YCWE - [Episode 4 - Part 2 is up!]

[Kōsuke Ueki]

How weird. I didn't make an appearance in that little conversation. It would have been funny as hell, right? Oh well. As long as I get a match, or have a chance to speak to the audience, I'll be satisfied for this episode. ;)

[Thar]

How weird. I didn't make an appearance in that little conversation. It would have been funny as hell, right? Oh well. As long as I get a match, or have a chance to speak to the audience, I'll be satisfied for this episode. ;)

 

And what if you don't? Will you kick and scream and boycott the fic? :/

 

Only kidding, but beggars can't be choosers.

[Kōsuke Ueki]

If I don't, I'll wait till next year when the next actual episode to be posted.

[Thar]

[spoiler=YCWE - Episode 4 *PART 2*]

 

 

Black was walking down a hallway backstage, wiping his forehead with a semi-satisfied sigh. As though he has dealt with several other new members in the past similar to this guy, he only shook his head and shrugged it off, clearing his ears of the ringing in his head from the caps. As he rounded the corner, another scrawny kid in a beanie hat confronted him.

 

“Look, mod guy,” he spat, “Get off your high horse. Before you manhandle us newbies, how about you actually take the time to-”

 

Black sighed and shook his head, chuckling, “Look kid, until you understand why I’m buckling down on you newbies, I won’t understand why I should give a f*ck about your stupid cards.”

 

The kid frowned angrily, tightening his fists, “what did I just say about you on your high horse?! You are bullying us. I should report you to Konami!”

 

Black burst into laughter, holding his sides. The kid lunged in frustration, wailing at Black but only in vain. Black held him in a headlock that weakened him and flopped him onto the floor, walking away as if nothing happened.

 

~

 

Flames burst out from the stage. C4 enters.

 

"We are back for another episode of YCWE after nearly five months of hiatus. This is pretty exciting for me to get back up and running, but all of my comrade announcers bailed on me, so I'm here by myself."

 

Arm is already in the ring, doing his thing. C4 watches Arm dance and scoffs while walking towards the contest zone. Arm kept eye contact with the guy in red, shimmying left and right like MC Hammer. C4 climbed over the top rope and flapped his arms around his shoulders, pumping himself for the match.

 

“This contest is set for one fall…” Arm perked up and slid under the bottom rope towards the announcing table, reaching under the ring. He pulled out a hose and re-entered the arena. With his hands bending the hose to stop the water flow, he was about to release it before C4 grabbed him in the throat, lifted him up and slammed him, slipping on the water that puddle up the ring. Both wrestlers were on the ground struggling to get up.

 

The bell rang as the two combatants got back up to their feet and locked arms, pushing into each other until C4 hooked Arm’s head, swinging him in an upward motion to slam him into the floor. Arm cringed in pain as C4 requested a mic.

 

"Oh man, I should've seen this coming..."

 

“Alright, folks, let me get right to the point,” boos echoed and chants broke out: FLAAAAMER~! FLAAAAMER~! C4 frowned, “I need everyone to listen! All this booing is pissing me off!” More boos followed. The audience was toying with him, “Whatever. I’m just gonna say it. I’m tired of being such a lost cause to some of you all. I’m tired of being left out of the big fights with the big superstars. I want the main event!”

 

Thar stood up with a mic of his own, “C4, didn't I tell you earlier? Beggars can’t be choosers.” C4 turned to look at Thar with a malicious look on his face. Thar held a hand up, “Whoa, now. If you’re gonna resort to violence to get what you want then you can kiss your role goodbye.”

 

“Violence?” C4 was dumbstruck by Thar’s accusation, “I’m not gonna hurt you, Thar. I wouldn't hurt anyone to get what I want. That’s foolish.”

 

“Point taken. But-”

 

“Also… ‘role’? Is that what I am to your sport, Thar? Just a character that was written to do whatever fits your fantasy?”

 

“Alright, C4, let’s not break the fourth wall now-”

 

“What fourth wall?! What the hell are you talking about?!”

 

Thar pondered. C4 was right: This was real, “Again, point taken. But let’s stay on track here. You want a match against the big guys, right?”

 

“Yes, but I also want respect. Everyone’s booing me.”

 

Thar facepalmed, “C4, if you’re gonna complain about the audience, do so in PM. Complaining to them only gives them a leeway into your nerves. It’s just not gonna work.”

 

C4 was done talking and was about to pin Arm, but Arm was already on top of the turnbuckle, leaping into a cannonball onto C4, crushing him. Arm pins:

 

1….. 2…..

 

C4 kicks out and immediately lifts Arm up by the neck, jumping to a lateral position in the air and planting his face into the floor in an RKO-esque fashion. Arm was limp and out cold, summoning the medic for whom declared a KO and ended the match. C4 rolled his shoulders back and gestured to the audience saying he was gonna rise to the top.

 

Desperado enters.

 

The crowd roars at the sight of the man in a brown trench coat and ten-gallon hat, shrouded in blue light and smoke blowing out from the curtain as he strutted out. C4 was hardly impressed, but stood still as the phenom eyed him with a mic in hand, ready to gun the red man down.

 

“So let me get this straight: I’m standing here right now, speaking to you, C4, one of the most pathetic people I’ve ever met, in another very pathetic person’s sh*tty ass fic that could’ve been and what should’ve been dead for good…” Desperado’s comment didn’t faze Thar, for he did not care for Desperado’s opinion. C4 wore a look of distain for the trash-talking gunslinger, “Not only that, but you actually expect everyone to cheer you on as you climb your way to the top, even though you’re about as deep into the pit of dumbassary as one possibly can be. What has gotten over that thick, tiny head of yours?”

 

“I’m not gonna argue with you, Desperado. Your opinion does not matter to me. I am my own man with my own morals, and I will follow them no matter what anyone thinks, you got that?!”

 

Desperado pinched the bridge of his nose with squinted, irritated eyes, “Your morals are stupid. You’re stupid. In fact, hearing you talk in general makes ME stupid. So how about you stop being stupid by not existing?”

 

“Like I said, Desu: Whether you consider me stupid or not, that is you opinion-”

 

“My opinion is right. It’s always been right.”

 

“SHUT UP! SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!” The crowd rumbled the arena with boos and more chants: FLAAAAAMER~! FLAAAAAMER~!

 

“I’d listen to the audience, C4. They know that I’m right. I’m always right. Me calling you stupid means you really are stupid.”

 

Agro enters, summoning mixed feelings from the audience as he grabs the mic from Desu’s hand, “For someone who can make fools of people, you talk too much!” Agro looked over at C4, “You wanna become a top-notch superstar, C4? Let’s see if you deserve it. Me and you are having a match tonight!” The crowd was indifferent to the idea, but Desu snatched back the mic and broke the silence with screaming fans.

 

“First of all, Agro… don’t take my mic from me if you value your life.” More cheering, “Second, even if he wins against you, it wouldn’t be saying much if anything at all. You’re just as pathetic as him.”

 

Agro snatched back the mic and looked the phenom dead in the eyes, “If I’m so pathetic, then how come I was able to beat you?”

 

Desu snatched the mic back, “Because that was not a victory. That was a lame excuse to be considered on the top. This whole sport is a joke. Victories are only half-assed memories that are used to rub in people’s faces. Then what? You get a rematch because they don’t wanna look like a pathetic loser which they've already been since forever? Oh, how dramatic! How suspenseful! This is so entertaining, how about you feed me more of this prime rib, Thar!”

 

Thar was confused for a moment, but absorbed the sarcasm, “C4’s right about one thing, Desu: Whether you like this or not is all subjective to you. If you say that whatever you think is stupid is just all-around stupid in general, then that doesn’t change anything other than the obviousness of it, nothing else.”

 

“Did I mention, Thar, that you do not sound smart at all but in fact even more stupid-sounding?”

 

"If I am, then that’s fine. I don’t really care. In fact, you’re only wasting your breath on me.”

 

“I’m gonna go under Creator’s wing here and say: Thar… shut up! Desperado, if you think you’re so tough, then let’s settle this in a match. C4 versus me… versus you, in a triple threat match!” The crowd went nuts at the sound of the main event.

 

Thar stood up, “Whoa whoa, hold on guys. If you guys want a match, that would mean I’d have to cancel Daemon versus Creator.”

 

“Honestly, who cares about those two?” Agro spat.

 

Desperado zeroed in on Agro’s face, “I do. In fact, they are part of the small handful of people that I actually like who aren’t girls. I accept your challenge if it means beating the living sh*t out of you. I could care less about C4, but I’ll rip him to shreds with no effort either way.” Desu dropped his mic and locked eyes with Agro. C4 raised his hands up and shot them down, releasing spurts of flames from the tops of the four turnbuckles.

 

“There you have it, folks. Agro versus C4 versus Desperado, up next on YCWE!”

 

*cut to black*

[/spoiler]