The Walking Apocalypse

@trggrhppy

Okay, so, here the wrestler was, right? Just sitting in a Starbucks minding his own business, drinking while he was thinking what sort of temporary line of work he could take until he could reach a higher position, when, all of a sudden, he saw a man who should, by all accounts, be dead. His ex-boss, Phillipe, had more or less implied it.

…Then again, the no longer living Belgian wasn’t always that truthful, he supposed. But, either way-

“So, Johnny Gat came back from the dead, huh? I mean, I guess who doesn’t want to be Johnny Gat, even if just a little, but, still-”

“How did this so called resurrection happen, huh? Was there a cross involved? Was Phillipe not up for it after all?”

He chuckled.

“Or, does the limo company here do dead people too?” Sure, the cars weren’t really limoes, but, he was honestly feeling pretty proud of that last one anyway.

Gat grumbled as he glanced to his phone. This purely digital crap was getting on his nerves. Nevertheless, as he managed to get himself a pure dark coffee, the Saint hears someone talking to him. Shade-covered eyes glanced over his shoulder to the hulking figure staring at him. For a moment, he was going to ask who they were.

Then they heard ‘Phillipe’ and he put the pieces together.

“So, y’ one of Philli’s fuckbuddies? Didn’t know he was into BDSM. Can’t say I’m all that surprised, though.”

The talk of him being dead, however, raised a brow.

“Ya really think that chucklefuck could kill me? Man, I was kickin’ his ass before I ended up here. Poor bastard only survived because of that, probably.” 

Nevertheless, he made his way over to sit opposite the masked man. May as well chat while he was here.

“If by ‘fuckbuddies’, you mean that I fucked people up for ‘im, than, yeah, I guess I was sort of his fuckbuddy.”

“I fucked up a lot of people with these fists alone. There are lotsa times I fucked up someone’s head, in same the way factory presses would fuck up apples into apple sauce.” Okay, he might have been using the F word way too much here. It was incredibly likely the Saint would get the wrong idea about him.

“Anyway, as for what my name is, you can call me Killbane. I basically became king o’ Steelport, after your lil friends squished Phillipe like a pancake.” He was not kidding, there was basically a bit of flattened human flesh that they assumed was Phillipe, whenever the hell that giant sphere had stopped rolling.

“Definitely fun. It was like Zeus, up on Olympus~” ...If Zeus had to constantly deal with purple maniacs, who put Dionysus followers to shame, but, like hell he was going to mention that to Gat, regardless of if he respected the not dead anymore Saint.

“Course, I wasn’t just king o’ Gangland Steelport-”

“I was the number one freaking wrestler in the city~! Every single person in Steelport knew the name of the multitime champion of Murderbrawl, the Walking Apocalypse himself~!”

“Wonder who I could make a fight club with…?”

Well wasn’t this a charismatic looking guy?  Was that a mask?  Some Luchador pulled from his ring and to an island?  How amusing that was!  What more, he wondered how someone like this would fair in Dressrosa’s tournaments.  A question better asked for another time as he didn’t even know the skill of this wrestler.  What more, he would rather know the possible use he could have.  A small laugh leaving Doflamingo as he approached the masked man with plenty of curiosity to him.

As Eddie walked along the beach, a cup of joe in his right hand, he took a rather decent-sized sip. Ahhhhhh, nothing quite like a tasty cup of joe, fully black, just like his heart was. Ha! He wished. He would have killed Matt if he was that heartless. Nah, he just had to keep in shape, especially if he was going to become the monster he used to be again in the future.

Killbane. Eddie ‘Killbane’ Pryor. Former partner of the schmuck Angel De Lemuerte, before he made the Luchadores all his. He could just see the crowd chanting his name, right before he broke all the bones in yet another hopeless amateur’s body. That was amazing.

He really had to find out if Radiale had a wrestling league, or, some sort of fighting federation, at least. But, then, he heard a laugh, and turned his head. Wow. That was quite the outfit the other man had. He had to admit, though, this guy had flair. He especially liked the boa. Though, whereas Eddie had liked to accessorize pink with his usual green, this guy seemed to prefer all pink. Not that that was bad, of course. Definitely eye-catching.

As he listened to this guy talk, he found himself kind of surprised. This guy had a gladiator working for him, huh? Eddie hadn’t really seen any of those in a while, since Murderbrawl 2008. Though, he was pretty the last ones he saw were just greek-themed wrestlers. And, it turned out, those guys were wimps. God, had it ever felt good to crush the life out of them, crowd cheering his name~

Course, as the man asked if he was any good at what he did, he felt surprised, and admittedly a bit insulted at first. But, this guy had his own style. He’d let it slide.

He chuckled incredulously.

“Am I any good at what I do, he asks? Bud, you’re talking ta Eddie ‘Killbane’ Pryor here. The guy who wrestled five lions at once. Waaaaayyyy more than Herc ever did. They call me the ‘Walking Apocalypse’, because I killed soooooooo many guys during my Murderbrawl debut, that Pluto himself came in person, and politely asked me if I would stop, cause they were overbooked in Hades.”

“That’s right. I completely filled the Underworld with amateur garbage in less than one hour. That’s how good I am~”

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Killbane!

You’ll be housed in Apartment 334!

You’ll retain your strength, though it will be reduced so that you can only barely lift a car at most. You may also keep your mask.