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Green vs. Norris vs. Gallows vs. Frost; IPW Championship Ladder Match
Topic Started: Apr 3 2008, 01:40 AM (1,037 Views)
Josh
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[ *  * ]
IPW Uprising
April 9, 2008
From Continental Airlines Arena in East Rutherford, NJ


Quest For The Gold Tournament Finals
Four-Way Ladder Match For The IPW Championship

Adam Green vs. Julian Norris vs. Frank Gallows vs. Vixen Frost

RPing Rules: Each participant may RP twice a day with a maximum of six RPs for the week. The deadline for RPs will be 5:00 PM CENTRAL TIME on Tuesday.
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AdamGreenDaddy
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[ *  * ]
- The Dirt Sheet, with Dave Michaelson -


We open our eyes in front of Amazing Dave Michaelson. Michaelson sits there looking our way with a couple pages of paper in his hands, apparently going over them one last time. Behind him, a rather elaborate backdrop, full or bright colors and gold accents. A flashy “Simply Amazing” sign hangs just behind him as well. As we focus on the area Dave occupies we notice there is one empty chair to his right, our left.

Am I on?

Not yet.

A man from the background replies, just out of the scene. Dave quickly straightens his watch on his wrist, and cuff on his shirt.

10...

9...


I’m not ready yet you asshole!

We’re going live!

8...

7...


Dave stuffs the paper behind him quickly and prepares for the show to go live. It’s apparent this is “The Dirt Sheet”.

6...

5...

4...

Queue intro music.

3...


Audience begins to clap and cheer.

2...

Dave gives us a Hollywood smile.

1...

Welcome everyone to Dave’s Dirt Sheet. I am your host, Amazing Dave Michaelson and tonight we have a very special quest on the show. Someone deserving of the shows very first broadcast.

Before I go any further I’d like to remind you that this show is broadcast live via webcast on IPW.com. So log on and start streaming the ONLY talk show that matters in professional wrestling today!

Before I bring our guest out for the evening I’d like to introduce myself to those who may not know me.

I am a former IOV Intercostal Champion, and a current IPW Legend. I've seen the rise and fall of many great superstars including your beloved Mikel Sweeten, Bear Lee Alive, and even Kevin Frost. With my background in some of the greatest federations that have ever hit the wrestling world, I, Amazing Dave Michaelson has given each and every one of you to learn the dirt on your favorite wrestlers.

Now, without further anticipation I present to you, “The Dirt Sheet’s” very first guest. The MAN!


“Looking back at me, I see that I never really got it right…”

Cold’s Crossfade plays softly as the lights turn a shade of green.

The Hollywood Hitman himself! Ladies and gentlemen the man that this Tuesday goes for the IPW Championship of the World…the ONE…THE ONLY….ADAM….”ANARCHY”…GREEN!!!

Adam walks out onto the stage, in a nice three piece. Dave meets him in front of the two chairs and shakes his hand, before the two take their respective seats and the music fades.

Adam raises his Oakley’s to his forehead as Dave begins to speak.


So Adam Green, how have you been?

Dave, I've been great. I have to say. I've been doing really good for myself and it only looks like it's going to get better. How have you been my man? How’s the retired life treating you?

Life has been great. The Dirt Sheet has gotten to a slow start, but that's just because I'm out doing things that most people only wish they could do. And that means almost anything that comes to mind, I'm sure you know what I mean, Adam. But as for the retired life, I don't really like to think of it that way... I think of it more as a hiatus.

I'm worn out, you know. Being Amazing tends to catch up to you. But enough about me though, what about you? How's Hollywood been?


Well I have to say, you've done well for yourself. The set is all flash and shit. Wait, can I say shit? Never mind. I'm Adam Green, I can say what I want, and do as I fucking please. As for Hollywood. I've got big news. I was going to tell the world on TRL tomorrow, however since I'm LIVE and in living color on the greatest talk show going today, I'm going to give you some "dirt" for the "sheets" Dave. This summer, god willing, and with Michael Bay's approval we start shooting for Bad Boys III! Co-Starring yours truly!

Fucking right! I've heard some of the rumors, but I didn't know what to think. That's huge news Adam and I'm sure that you're going to do great. Speaking of Hollywood, what about the new Hollywood Hitmen? You're not trying to replace me, now are you?"

We both know in the bottom of our hearts the Hollywood Hitman himself would never feel more comfortable than with the Amazing One at his side. Fact of the matter is, just like you said....you're on this hiatus. I had to do something. So I scouted the roster and found the two best prospects I could find. Julian Norris and Scott Johnson. Now this isn't just any normal group. You see we are a team. There is no leader. We are as one. I truly believe this is the best group yet. However I do fell we are missing one..."amazing" piece of the puzzle.

Well, hopefully that piece of the puzzle will be there to help you through some tight spots. I'm sure he'll show up at the right place at the right time. But what about Blaze Templeton? Now that we're on the subject of the Hitmen, I just couldn't avoid it. I have to know Adam, is it your child... I'm kind of worried about how the results are going to turn out, if you get my drift.

It's not my child. Period. I mean, I'm honestly surprised the American population can't see through the web of lies. Granted with Vixen backing all this I know the Canadian fans support her, that's because Canadians couldn’t see though clean glass with an x-ray machine. However...it's nothing more than a gold diggin’ scheme. Blaze Templeton is out flat on her ass, she got knocked up, and since she's broke she figured I'd pay for all of it and everything would go on happily ever after...EH EH. Ain't going to happen like that. It ain't mine. And truth be told, if she's buddy, buddy with Vixen it could be any American male who pays for sex, because we both know what their side jobs consist of! If you catch MY drift.

Of course, it's only obvious that the two of them are hookers. I mean... let's get real, before and since IOV, have you ever heard of Blaze Templeton? I mean she was a mediocre wrestler at the best, but you couldn't help but wonder why she seemed so lost in the ring when she was in the ring. It's not the type of wrestling with men that she was used to day in and day out. Haha, but enough about that, we don't want to hear the drama and spark anymore rumors... What I want to know is what happened to that hot Brittany girl. You didn't really fire her... did you?

Exactly. She was a hell of a wrestler, just like Vixen...only in the sack. But as for Brittney. Yes I fired her. Fact of the matter was she's only a 9. I'm Adam Goddamn Green. I should only be with 10's or better! God knows I can have any woman I want. I wouldn't even doubt it if Vixen get's wet panties thinking about me.

Yes... you do deserve 10's or better... it was living proof when you were with.... what's your ex-wife's name again?

Christina Lee, fucking bitch.

That she was Green... That she was. Anyway... I don't want you to pull a hamstring before your big match this week. Let's get to some more light-hearted notes, like how was your time at Wrestlemania?

Oh man. Dave, I tell you. It was simply amazing. The face that I could go to an event like that as a fan...it was so refreshing. It reminding me why I do what I do. Ya know. I know the fans can't stand me. But they need people like me. The have to have someone to hate, because if there's no one to hate, there's no reason to cheer for the character less pukes that roam the halls in IPW! But honestly the only reason I was there was to see Flair. I just knew in my heart the dirtiest player in the game would ride one more time. I still can't believe he didn't pull it out. But seeing that live and in person was 10 times better than seeing it on TV. Honestly...Ric Flair is the second best, second to only yours truly. So I had to see his final match ya know?

Yeah, that had to have been one hell of a show. Speaking of Flair, he was an idol to many wrestlers and fans alike. Is there anyone Green that you had looked up to? Don't be to modest now...

Dave cracks an arrogant grin.

Well, now no. I look up to myself, and push myself to get better, and to greater things. Granted when you've done what I've done it don't get much better but fact of the matter is there's always world titles to win, and asses to pin! As a child I looked up to the usual. Harley Race, Dusty Rhodes. But my idol would have to be Flair. He was in his prime, what I am today. Only I'm a little bit better.

Yes, of course. Nobody could ever match up to you, big guy. But who are some of the people that you would like to wrestle anyway? Of course, we all know you would win, no problem... but hypothetically speaking, who is a wrestler that you would be honored to step into the ring with?

There are a few guys I'd like to take out to the wood shed. Simply because what they are known as ya know. Batista for starters. He's the big bad "animal". Yeah right. I'd tame that beast, no problem. Then you got Stone Cold Steve Austin. "The toughest son of a bitch ever". I mean honestly. I'd make Austin sale all his can's of whoop ass for a 2 for 1 special. The Rock, simply because I'm the ONLY "Great One". Then you got the Hogan’s, Piper's, Hart’s, Sting’s and so on. They aren't Icons...I'm the ICON. But honestly the one man I've love to face is the Undertaker...at Wrestlemania. I would jump at the chance to give the dead man his only defeat at the big dance. Because god knows he's got one foot in the grave, and I'd be holding the other!

Haha, of course, of course. Now Adam, I don't want to stray to far off of IPW, Majors is going to try to cut off my dick for talking about other wrestling shows, so let's just get straight to it, Adam. How are you going to prepare for this match? I know you have some tricks up your sleeve... and is Julian Norris going to effect this match at all?

I'm going to prepare for this match the same way I do for every match I've ever had. That's the only way Adam Green knows how to prepare. I'm going to push myself to the limit, and then a couple miles past it every single day. Noone Dave...NO ONE will be more prepared than Adam Green. As for Norris. Think of it as insurance. The IPW championship is going where it belongs around my waist.

But didn't you say there were no leaders?

There are no leaders. However...we both know, the world included I'm the greatest professional athlete this pathetic shit stain for a planet has ever had the pleasure to see. There's no one better than me. NO ONE. GODDAMNITT NO ONE! At Uprising, Hitmen member or not, friend or not, Julian Norris or not...when the bell rings you're gonna HEAR and SEE history because my friend you will HEAR "Cold by Crossfade" and you will SEE "Adam Green with the IPW Championship.

So I take it you have words for your opponents this week?

Of course I do.

First and foremost Vixen Frost. You got your little wish. You get Adam Green, and you get a chance for the IPW championship. But it’s just what it is Vixen…A CHANCE. Only a chance. I hope you were watching closely during our tag match two weeks back. I hope you remember how those ribs feel after that End of Dayz. I hope it’s all fresh in your head because at Uprising I’m going to bring it all back. I’m going to give you a physical reminder of just what you are dealing with. I’m doing to show you, America, and the rest of the world just what is means to be Adam Green, and more importantly what it means to be against him.

Vixen. I noticed last week you gave Hopkins at Swanton Bomb. Now…unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know that’s my finishing move. I want to point this out simply because it’s the best way I was explain the difference between you and I. You give Hopkins the same move I’ve won World Titles with, the same move I defeated you with…and you didn’t even get a 2 count. Doesn’t that tell you something? You can’t do it like me bitch. You just can’t.

You’re not on my level. I’ve proven it, but more importantly you’ve proven it Vixen. You’ve tried to steal my moves, then last week you did the only thing you thought you could do. A low blow. A cheap shop. Because fact is…taking cowardly shots at my genital area is the ONLY way you would ever hurt me you little bitch.

Take my advice Vixen…leave little Lexi at home because I’d hate to see her face while I’m beating the shit out of Mommy. While I’m making mommy scream for her pathetic life. Safe yourself the disappointment of explaining to little Lexi why Mommy didn’t win the title like she said she was going to do, and just tell her the truth. Adam Green is better.

As for Frank Gallows. The kid is hot. He’s won his first three matches. So have I. I mean honestly. I’ve heard his shit the past few weeks. About how he’s going to bring a fight. How he’s a fighter. I’ve heard it from him, and I’ve heard it a thousand times. It’s the same story from everyone Dave. They all think they can compete with Adam Green, and they are realize the same thing…I’m just that much better. The sad thing is…guys like Michael Hopkins…and the guys and girls in THIS match are the same. They don’t see reality until is whip kicks them in their asses! I guess when I stand up, my music plays and I’m holding the IPW Championship they will then know. They will have to.

It’s like this people.


Adam stands from his seat, now sweating like a hog.

I’ve won world titles. I’ve won awards. I’ve been in magazines. I’ve done it all. I’ve put more people down than aids! I’m more dangerous than a gun. That IPW Championship belongs to me. I just haven’t walked up that ladder and taken it yet. That’s exactly what I’m going to do Tuesday. Walk straight up that ladder than take what’s mine, take that I deserve, the IPW title. Once I’ve done that…every can get in a single file line. I’ll defend it against the entire roster if they want. I’ll blast though them like I always do. And leave a pile of battered bodies in my wake. THIS IS MY TIME…MY WALK…AND MY GODDAMN LINE. Truth is…There ain’t enough darkness in hell it’s self to keep me from shinning.

I’M THE MAN!

It’s like this. Julian Norris, Vixen Frost, Frank Gallows, the camera crew, the IPW suits, the fans in attendance…THE WHOLE MOTHER FUCKING WORLD will be "witness protection" after Uprising. Simply because in the ladder match I’m going to MURDER three other competitors and claim MY title!

GET RIGHT WITH GOD…YOU’RE END OF DAYZ ON THE UPRISE!

I’m Adam Green…Dave. THEY CAN’T WIN BECAUSE I SIMPLY CAN’T LOSE!


Adam looks at Dave who is visibly shaken at the intensity of the Hitman. Dave pushes himself as far back in his seat as he can get.

Calm down Green! Jesus Christ... you're going to have a god damn heart attack... Well, that looks to be all for tonight folks... until next time!

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Aaron
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What You've Already Heard

Then you're driving again. The sun is out and the summer shade from trees tiger-stripes the road. You are together again and you are heading home. You relate to the world through smells. Oak campfires smell like beach-fires in San Diego. Incense, car carpet, and cigarettes smell like being 18 and in love.Drying dog shit, black on green Kansas lawn, smells like summertime. Water and river brush smells like summertime in Arizona, Colorado River. Hot buds of weed burning smell like being 15 and sober while your friends laugh and grin, slant-eyed and high. Rosewater on bare skin smells like your woman when you're heading home with her from weeks away, apologies made and nothing resolved—nothing is resolved—life is still a big hanging sulk of mystery or futility or repeating patterns or hurt feelings of too much damage done maybe. But together and heading home—you are heading home. Shadowed reapers crouch on wheelbarrowed mine tracks or lie lurking in mine cars, phantom great-grandfathers, black-eyed, Slavic, square-faced, grey-haired, beckoning with crook of finger saying, "What's taken you so long?"

Roll The Tape...

London; England - Heathrow Airport - 3:22am

Frank Gallows, red eyed, acne faced and jet lagged rolls through Heathrow Airport hooded with Justice by his side. The paparazzi flash their cameras in the face of IPW's NEW "Hot Property". Frank flicks his boogers at them, no time for interviews, before stepping inside a black cab. The camera sits shotgun with the driver.

FG:''Kilburn, please mate.''

Frank reclines back into the piss stained leather, kicking off his shoes for the ride home. But for some reason, were not moving. Frank sits up, tapping on the plexi glass that separates him and the driver.

FG:''Oi, mate. Did you hear what i said? Come on, lets go. What's the matter with you?''









''Nothing, little brother..''



The cab driver turns around. Frank didn't recognize the face that starred back at him, but he knew that voice. But I'm sure you, Adam Green and Vixen Frost did. Tell me, was it like seeing a ghost? The personification of evil, in all his glory, in the last place you ever expected it? I'm sure you remember him Adam. The skeleton in your closet. It was UCW. You were at the top of the mountain. Biting at your heels was he, under rated and rarely given the opportunities to follow his dreams or show his potential. But through you, he made a statement that very few of your opponents have ever been able to do. He made you tap out. He made Adam Green, tap out!
And Vixen. You may never of had the pleasure of being in the ring with him. But you've shared cells and rings with his spawn, his illegitimate son. Do you may remember his name? That's right ladies and gentleman. For weeks, he has hidden behind a mask. Concealing his identity, to the brother he never knew he had. But now, he is in plain view for us all to see. Don't call it a comeback, or a return. Classify it as your demise because, he, he is...















Trey Deep.



TD:"...It's me little brother...It's me, Osiris."

FG:''Wh..Where's your mask?''

TD:''I threw it away. I thought you should finally see my face. I'm not as ugly as you imagined am i?''

FG:''Nn..No. Its just that this is gonna take some getting used to. You're my brother. My brother, Osiris."

An evil smirk crept across Trey's face. That smirk that brought the end of the world kicking and screaming by its hair.

TD:''Osiris, isn't my name. My name is Trey. I used it as a cover up..."

FG:''Trey...''

TD:''Listen, Frank. I understand this is all going to be a bit hard for you to get your head around, right now. But don't worry, I have the solution, to everything. Ive been here all before."

FG:''So, So where are we going?''

TD:''I think we should pay Mother a visit, don't you?''

FG:''Mother?"

Frank shudders. The memories of his mother were not fond ones.

TD:''She holds the answers, Frank. To all of this. You want to find out everything, don't you?''

FG:''Yeah, i guess.''

TD:''You'll be ok. You have me now.

The cab starts up as Frank clutches onto his seat in fear. The paparazzi flashes cover the cab in a haze of white as it drives off and the scene fades out.

Beep, Beep, Beep.

The scene fades in. The room is dark. Cluttered with various antiques handed down through the ages. Cobwebs, fresh and rotten hang from wall to wall. Untouched for some time. In the center a bed. A slow breathing apparition of a being lays quiet and still under dusty blankets. The camera zooms in closer. The beeping gets louder. From a heart rate monitor that stands beside the bed. A crow hobbles about the place, picking at anything it can consider edible in its frustrating state of starvation. A pale skull peered back into the lens from behind a clear breathing mask. Trey Deep and Frank Gallows appear at the foot of the bed. Their mother lay bed ridden in front of them. Incapable of her torture anymore. She looked back at her two sons, expressionless. She knew that some day they would find each other and her time in suspended animation let her come to expect it. The pesky crow found rest upon the headrest of the bed, perching himself there like a king to his throne. Trey brushes the bird from his mothers island, whilst Frank stays frozen to the spot. Trey pulls the tattered curtains. Almost like a Vampire in sunlight, Mother shields herself with her skeletal hands. Flies cover the glass.

TD:''..Mum''

Mother, pulled the mask down from over her nose. Her lips were dry. Her teeth yellow. She took a deep breath before her raspy voice could begin.

Mother:''So you finally found him."

....................................
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Cristy
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[size=4]Number One[/size]


…………….. The sound of airplanes passing overhead echo through the lively Boston International Airport terminals. The camera zooms around, pure witness to tearful goodbyes, cheerful greetings and one man’s first step on the road to the Impact Pro Wrestling championship. Among this area of populous excitement is the man with the world at his fingertips. With the sun shining off of his black designer sunglasses and a good magazine in hand, nothing could make this day more perfect for Julian Norris. And maybe it was just a significance that Julian was on flight 93 at 9:11 AM. Sometimes life is full of mysterys that cannot be explained.


…Now boarding Flight 93…

After uncrossing his legs and gently sliding his magazine into a black carry-on bag, Julian stood up and adjusted his shirt. He then proceeded to gather his belongings and begin his walk towards, what could possibly be, his last flight without gold. As he strutted confidently and with a slight bit of arrogance, towards his plane, he noticed a man crying to his left. The man appeared to be rather upset, hugging a woman dressed in black. Julian could only think to himself… “What a little bitch… crying like that. A man is supposed to be strong for his family. What could cause such a scene by this pathetic man?” After the brief pause and thought, Julian continued on with the long walk. He continued through the mass of people, who seemed to unnecessarily be getting in his way. One larger gentleman in particular was slowing up the crowd of people, while munching on his burrito.

Julian Norris: Where the hell do you get a burrito in a place like this?

…Julian quietly mumbled to himself. Yet the sound of food quenched his appetite. Thoroughly he jeered around looking for a quick pick-me-up before departing and being left to eat watered down potatoes and rubber meat. Besides a few candy bars, nothing looked too appealing to him. So, with a rumbling tummy and growing impatience, Julian walked into a glass-windowed shop. Although the airport was packed, this small shop was completely empty. Therefore, Julian had no problem picking up a Snickers bar and placing it on the counter quickly. The store attendant, a burly woman with blue-tipped blond hair, snatched the bar and rang it up. Julian couldn’t help but snicker himself (no pun intended), at the fact that this woman reminded him very much of Vixen Frost. But, this woman was much bigger and could possibly over power the petite fox. Julian continued to chuckle, thinking to himself, as the woman peered up at his lavish appearance.

Store Clerk: Is there some sort of problem sir?

Julian’s quick smirk turned to a drawn-out frown as he realized this woman could possibly kick his own ass. Amongst thinking about his answer, he grinned at the woman. And after leaning in close and grasping the candy out of her firm grip, Julian replied snidely.

Julian Norris: No problem.

The store clerk ficticiously smiled back at Julian, almost forgetting to collect the money. Julian began to walk out of the store, thinking he had distracted her and worked his way out of the overpriced amount. Yet this woman was no brood and screamed out to him.

Store Clerk: Excuse me sir. That’ll be $2.50.

Julian’s face cringed as he reached inside his small-fit pockets and pulled out a five-dollar bill. He unwillingly placed it on the counter and began, once again, towards his flight.

Store Clerk: Do you want your change?

Julian Norris: Keep it.

With all distractions now behind him, Julian focused on his destination. …Not even stopping to throw away his consumed candy wrapper. Finally, after what turned out to be a 15 minute journey, he arrived the Flight 93 boarding gate. Julian dropped his bag and somewhat began to stare off into space. He began to think about what the long week ahead would bring. A … daydream… of sorts. He imagined himself standing tall with the IPW Championship over his shoulder. A dream he has had since his first days in professional wrestling. He thought about how far he had come, how many he has beaten and stepped on, on his way to the top. He thought about all the pain and ha ha yes… all the pleasure. He thought about the struggles and successes, and how he felt literally… invincible. Everything led up to this moment. He had never felt more alive and he honestly had a feeling that this is his time. …This is his destiny. Yes… everything that day had seemed like some sort of fate or destiny. As if, it were all meant to happen. And as Julian slowly faded back into reality, his real dream was about to begin.

…….


…….


…….


…….


…….


……. life to lifeless to eternity, life to lifeless the cycle repeats


……. life to lifeless to eternity, life to lifeless the cycle repeats


…….


…….


…….


……. Julian quickly snapped out of it and shuffled through his bag, searching for his cell phone. Things flew everywhere, as he rapidly tried to find it. … Knowing it was a very important call. Suddenly he remembered that he had tucked it into his pocket, in case Mira called. Fumbling with the buttons, Julian finally opened it and answered the call.


Julian Norris: Hello? … Hey baby. How’s everything. Yeah I can imagine. Look babe, I have a flight to catch here, I’ve really got to get going. …. Can it wait? Mira is it that important? I can’t miss this flight babe. Ok ok. What’s going on? ….. What? …. Wait what? …. Did Johnny take you? …. Is the baby ok? …. What do you mean you don’t know!? …. Which hospital? …. Mira what am I suppose to do here? …. No…. no…. look…. No. This I the last flight today. ….Well I don’t know? …. Ok. …. Do you want me there? …. Mira…. Mira…. No… I’m not selfish! Mira… No…. babe… listen!! ….. Hello?

The phone went dead, with Julian left in a panic. Steadily, he shut the phone and placed it into his black bag. His bright blue eyes glared, fixated on someone… something else. His breath began to rapidly increase, becoming heavier and faster with each release of air. No longer was a smile present on his gleaming, chiseled face. No longer was there a presence of confidence and cockiness. And then something rather unusual happened to this strong, unemotional man. …. A single tear accumulated in his eye. Inside of which held his true inner-feelings. Feelings that the two other men… hell… even the other woman… would never display or admit too. This feeling was not only fear of the unknown, or the anxiety of everyday life. This feeling was not only anguish for the decision he was about to make. This was a feeling of being a human. A feeling that many professional wrestlers, keep hidden deep inside. Julian is no superman, nor is he the almighty god.

And while finally coming to a conclusion and collecting his things, Julian realized for the first time in his life that… he does not control all. And it seems that everything can be snatched away in a matter of seconds. Life can be turned upside down. Julian walked past security and boarded the plane. The doors shut behind him. You see… Julian Norris may not choose to show himself as being weak at times. But one must realize and recognize that Julian isn’t some professional wrestler who happens to be a guy. No no…. Julian Norris is an average guy who just happens to be a professional wrestler. And no matter what role he is portrayed in, no matter what persona he takes on… at the end of the day… he’s still a guy.


…. A guy… just trying to achieve the American Dream.

--Scene Fades--
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--Damn Greendaddy--<select name=which style="font-Times:Bold;font-size: 7.5pt;background-color:black;font-weight:Bold;color:white">
<option>The Records
<option>----IPW--- 8-3
<option>----PRO---- 7-0
<option?-----IPW(2)----2-0
<option>---Overall--- 16-3
<option></select>
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Cristy
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[size=4]Number Two[/size]


With a few hours past and a full-fledged chili cheese dog digested, Julian Norris wasn’t feeling so hot. One little known fact about the submission ace is his semi-somewhat addiction to dairy. Cheese, milk, yogurt… it doesn’t really matter, if it’s in the dairy category… he’ll have it. And really, there is no real significance in knowing this, except for the fact that Julian is semi-somewhat lactose and tolerant. In most cases, dairy causes Julian to plummet over in pain and spend the evening with his lovely friend, Mr. Toilet. :) …. Today was no different.

Julian Norris: …. Oh my god…

Julian mouthed as he stumbled out of the hotel bathroom, pants hanging below his knees. Luckily there was a queen-sized bed set straight in front of him. So that when he tripped over his suitcase, he landed face first into a nice cushy pillow. A gold shiny title and preparing for a ladder match was the last thing on Julian’s mind as he let out a deep breath and moan into the flowered-material. It would seem at this moment that the only thing Julian would even think about doing is passing out or taking a very very powerful laxative. While the thought did pass through his mind, Julian didn’t have a chance to act upon it.


…….. Ring ……..

…….. Ring ……..

…….. Ring ……..



…The room’s phone began to shake and make noise. Julian kept his head planted in the pillow and attempted to reach up to stop the pounding headache. After shoving some pointless items off the desk, his finger happened to catch the phone’s cord. Pulling the receiver up towards his partially-covered ear, he answered in a monotone voice.

Julian Norris: Hello?

…………

Angered that no one appeared to be on the other end, Julian pulled himself up to a sitting position and tried a bit louder than before.

Julian Norris: HELLO!?

…………


Still no response. Instead of wasting another gasp of air, Julian decided to throw the phone onto the pink-colored carpet. He just couldn’t understand. Impact Pro Wrestling is suppose to be the elite wrestling promotion around these parts. The owner is a millionaire, there are millions and millions of viewers and fans. The products sell off the shelves within seconds, the tickets are almost impossible to buy. Yet here Julian Norris was, one of the most prominent names in wrestling today, sitting in a 2-star hotel with pretty pink carpeting, a grimy black-ringed shower, and sinking sandpit-like bed. Just wanting to end the overall… shitty day… Julian fell back into the headboard and flipped on the television.

Television: “This is JEOPARDY!”

Julian Norris: “This is Hell!”

The annoying voice of heart-attacked Alex Trebek was not a good fit for Julian Norris today. Instead he flipped the channel to ESPN, to catch up on some of the latest NCAA news. Meanwhile, as his mind started to numb, a visiting guest had arrived at the Days Inn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hotel Clerk: Welcome to the Days Inn. How may I help you sir?

Man: I’m looking for a Mr. Julian Norris. Is he here?

Hotel Clerk: Yes sir, he just checked in about an hour ago. Would you like me to phone up to his room?

Man: No thank you. I think I’ll go pay him a visit myself.

Hotel Clerk: Ok no problem. He is currently staying in room 114. It’s up the stairs and right around the corner.

The man dressed in blue jeans and a white-long shirt nods at the peppy clerk and works his way towards the steps. Slowly he climbs them one by one, using the handrail with each motion. His curly black hair sways as he stops at a door and proceeds to look up at the number.

Man: Room one fourteen.

The man rolls his sleeves up and knocks on the pale-paint chipped door. Inside Julian Norris is distracted by the beautiful women of Baywatch on the television. Instead of attempting to greet his visitor, who could very well be an enemy, Julian decides to take his chances.

Julian Norris: It’s open.

Figuring and knowing Julian might say something along these lines, the man has already pried the door open. His massive figure encompasses the entire doorway. And with one hand set along his hip, the man lifts an eyebrow at Julian.

Man: ……

Julian can only glare at the man, his eyes set in one place. Unsure of what the man has to say, but fearing it… Julian takes a hold of his pants and pulls them up. He then settles back comfortably, eyes still fixated on the man’s angered expression.

Julian Norris: …. What are you doing here?

Man: I think you know very well why I’m here.

Nodding slightly and finally pulling his eyes away, Julian stands up and motions for the man to shut the door. The door slams shut briskly and the man steps inside, arms now crossed. Trying to remain calm, Julian reaches into his mini fridge and grabs two beers.

Julian Norris: Beer?

The man shakes his head “no.” This causes Julian to take a seat in one of the blue-side chairs. Sulking and sucking on his beer, he waits for the man to speak or at least make some sort of move. However the tall, dark man refuses to break from his set position.

Julian Norris: So… how’s Mira doing?

Man: ……. She’s in the hospital Julian. What the hell do you think?

Julian Norris: …. How’s the baby?

Man: …. The doctor said the next few days are critical.

Julian Norris: ……….

This unpleasant news eats away at Julian. His rough fingers grasp at his eyes, trying in some ways to wipe a nightmare out of them. Once re-opening them, we can see the red-streaked marks within the whites of his eyes. No sleep and stress have obviously taken a toll on him the past few days. And when he finally decides to look back up at the stern face of the man, he begins to fall apart inside.

Julian Norris: Well fuck Johnny… what am I suppose to do? I’ve got to be here. The biggest match of my life is coming up in the next few days. I need to prepare. I have to stay focused or I’ll break Johnny. … I’ll break. You know how long I’ve waited for an opportunity like this. I’ve worked my fucking ass off!

Johnny Rose: You need to be prepared Julian? Prepared for your match? …. ? …. You need to be prepared for your child!? You need to be prepared to deal with a possible miscarriage! You’re breaking Julian? What the hell do you think Mira’s going through right now? She’s up in a hospital in Boston, by herself, wondering if your baby is going to die! … And wondering why her future “husband” has chosen wrestling and a BELT… over her!

Julian Norris: A belt!? A belt!? Johnny… this is my fucking life. This is … EVERYTHING! Yes, I love Mira more than anything. I love our baby more than anything. But Mira will be ok! The baby will be ok! I have faith in that. I just think it’s best for me to stay here and fight for our future. It’s for the best….

Johnny Rose: …. So are you telling me that you are choosing that title over your own baby? … Over Mira?

Julian Norris: ……..

Johnny goes into shock, disbelief at how inhuman Julian seems right now. He can see that nothing he has to say is going to change this egotistical, bastard’s mind. He turns around, finally breaking his position and grabs the door handle. Julian can see his displeasure and walks over towards the door.

Julian Norris: … I love Mira. I do. You just need to realize that I’m doing this, for Mira and the baby. I’m doing this for my family. Do you understand that?

In continued disbelief, Johnny pulls the black sunglasses onto his head. Steadily, his eyes go from the floor to Julian’s face. A brief smirk appears and then disappears. Julian smiles back, assuring Johnny that everything will be ok. Johnny shakes his head “no.”

Johnny Rose: I understand. …I understand what type of man you are. Go out there Julian. Kick some ass. Beat the living hell out of three individuals. Prove that you are the best fucking wrestler this business has ever seen. Prove that you are the next best IPW champion! Feel that energy and aura of the crowd as they chant your name. Stand tall… as the confetti falls all around you… Feel proud of your accomplishments. Hold that title high above your head. Don’t EVER forget that moment Julian. ….Because you will never experience a moment like that again. … That will be the moment that will live on in your mind for the rest of your life. …. The night you became IPW Champion, the night you realized your dream, and the night… you spent alone. … No Mira. … No child. No one.

The man gently patted his hand against Julian chest as he opened the door and prepared to leave. Julian’s face goes blank as he takes everything in and watches as Mira’s brother walks down the hallway.

Johnny Rose: Remember that.

The scene fades with Julian standing in the doorway. Well, I guess standing wouldn’t exactly be the word. More like… hanging on. Hanging on to whatever he has left inside.


"....As human beings, we are endowed with freedom of choice, and we cannot shuffle off our responsibility upon the shoulders of God or nature. We must shoulder it ourselves. It is our responsibility. It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities….”

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Aaron
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[ *  * ]
Beep, Beep, Beep

Roll The Tape...

Trey looked over to his brother in the icy light. Frank still stood at the bottom of the bed; eyes fixated on his Mother, as he stood there and shivered. His misty breathe cascading from his mouth. Opening the draw to a bedside table, Trey retrieved a small syringe already filled with a red solution. He took Mothers arm. Finding a big enough vein like finding a needle in a haystack on her skinless arm. She didn't flinch or whimper. All she knew was pain.

FG:''Wh.Wha.What's that for?''

TG:''It thins her blood. Can you pass me those bandages."

Trey pointed to a roll of bandages on the other side of the bed. Getting them would mean that Frank would have to move. It would mean being inches from Mother. Frank kept his eyes to the floor as he shuffled over to where the bandages were. He felt a light tug at his jeans. He turned around. Looking up at him was Mother. She cleared her throat.

Mother:''How are you son?''

FG:''I.I.I.I'm doing O.K.''

She cackled.

Mother:''You've just met your brother after 23 years and found out that your mother is dieing, but you're doing ok. You always had your fathers sense of humor".

FG:''Dieing?''

TD:''Were running out of medicine.''

FG"Well can't you get anymore?''

For the first time in his short life, Frank realized that faced with the situation he was in, he may have actually still loved his mother; The woman who would make him sleep and eat with the pigs in their stye. But still Frank was moved by the news that she was in essence laying on her death bed. Finally Frank was about to get some answers to the questions he had been asking, but time was running out.

TD:''It's not as simple as that...''

FG:''She should be in a hospital somewhere, not here. Look at this place, you can't properly look after her Trey. You're not a doctor. This is madness.''

TD:"I've done more then you ever did. Swanning off to your comfortable life in New Jersey, having a great old time, leaving her here with no one to look after her, or so you thought. I've risked everything to get her what she needs to stay alive. Do you understand that Frank? And yet the only thing she wants is for you to be here. I'm the one that had to come and find you because she wants you here Frank.''

FG:''Why do you want me here?''

TD:''Because..''

Mother sits up in bed. Both Trey and Frank turn to look at her. She had that look on her face. The one that came just before Frank was about to get in trouble.

Mother:''Because you two need each other! Now sit down, because i have a lot to get through.''

Fade Out.

"She's sleeping."

The scene fades in. Trey and Frank sit on the balcony of the old manor house, over looking a flock of Canadian geese, resting on the freshly cut lawns after their Atlantic flight. Frank chugs on a cigarette, almost at the butt.

TD:''It's not your fault. You shouldn't blame yourself for all of this Frank. It's just one of those things."

FG:''You were right, what you said back there. I did run away. I've been running away since i knew how. But it was different for me, you never had anything like that done to you, did you?''

TD:''Why do you think i wasn't around when you were growing up? I got taken away. Boarding School, the lot. I tried to come and see you, but they wouldn't let me."

FG:''I remember you now."

TD:''You do?''

FG:''At dads funeral. You were the kid that mum said i couldn't talk to. Remember? You stood in the corner all night and i brought you cake at the end."

TD:''Yeah, Yeah that was me."

FG:''You know I knew you were my brother that day."

TD:''How?''

FG:''I don't like current cake either.''

Trey and Frank wipe away their tears away as they laugh at the joke.

TD:''You don't need any of this right now. You've got bigger things to worry about."

FG:''Do i? You think The Hollywood Hitmen and Vixen Frost are people i should be concerned about? I'm not painting this unrealistic picture of how its gonna be oh so easy for me just to climb up that ladder and grab the belt. Is he just going to sprout wings and fly? I'm not buying into that. And I'm not buying into this fairy tale of an ordinary guy achieving a dream, because it's so far fetched. How literal are they going to take this Hollywood name because right now they're coming up with story lines for blockbusters when they promo, but their forgetting this 'ain't the movies.

And you know, what ever you've done to Adam Green in the past or who ever you've trained to defeat Vixen, Trey. That dosnt matter to me. You're my brother and you're gonna have my back. But the name on that marquee isn't Deep, its Gallows. And its there because as of right now I am one of the best this company has working for it. If not the best, because I'm focused on one thing and one thing only. I'm not shooting movies, I'm not giving interviews; basking in false limelight and I'm sure as hell not counting my chickens before they've hatched, because I've come too far to simply be called "hot" by some guy who thinks he can ignore the actualities of this match and make up his own rules based on the fact that he's graced a few magazine covers. I'm not in this for the fame. I'm not here for the money. I'd never let any of that shit go to the top of my head ever because that's what removes you. That's what sidetracks you. That's what leaves you waking up, not knowing where the fuck you are, a gram of Charlie up your nose and headache swimming in Tequila from the night before.

Adam Green, Vixen Frost, Julian Norris, they all have something in common. They're familiar with each other. They might like to think that I'm the same old story. But that's because they don't won't to accept me as a danger to their win. The fear of the unknown. They might even say that they've done exactly what i have, in the same amount of time. But naturally I'm going to disagree. I know that the 4 guys i beat were nobodies. Trying to make a statement by beating worthless opponents is kind of hard. But i didn't just walk all over them because i could. I never threw my weight around to make me look good. I showed you all a piece of things to come, because whether you like it or not, none of you are any different to a Battery, a Pauli Mascona, an Extreme demon or even Steven Jones. No gimmicks could stop me from beating them; no gimmicks will stop me from beating any of you. The only difference between you and them, is that they all knew when to give up. You won't take my word for what it is, because you believe in what the media tells you, so i'll have to show you, with a 10 foot ladder in my hands.

I don't claim to want the IPW Title, because it'll look good along side others in a trophy case somewhere. I claim to want the IPW Title, because for me, it will be my first! This will be the one that counts. This might not be another title win for me. It dosnt feel like something i have to do to keep my name it's credibility. Its something i must do because it's what i was born to do, no matter how cliche that is. You can be a 4 time, 8 time hell even a 16 time world heavyweight champion. But maybe, there will come a day when you realize that you just aren't cut out for it anymore. That's the day everything you've worked so hard for in the past becomes nothing but a useless token of what you gave up on. So Adam Green, you want something fresh and new around your waist because really, IPW is cool and its the in thing. It's another reason for a new car or a new house. But me, I want this title because it's heritage defines who i am.


and that


is


A Champion!"


Cut.
.....................
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Cristy
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[ * ]
[size=4]Number Three[/size]

Two days after the confrontational visit from Johnny Rose, there was only one thing on Julian Norris’ mind. …Uprising… It was on this morning, April 6, 2008, that Julian lye in bed regretfully remembering his promise to take part in one IPW.com interview. The thought of this task hampered Julian, as he rolled onto his back and let out a moaning sound. With eyes full of sleep and a congested chest, Julian reached his right arm over towards the side table and grabbed his phone. A click of a button let him know that it was now 10:31 AM and he was yet again… late. 10:31 AM? That couldn’t be right… Julian once again wiped his eyes and peered at the clock.

Julian Norris: …Shit…

Yes, it seemed, the constant mind fuck was taking a toll on Julian. There was so much to do before Uprising. Along with preparing mentally, it had been quite a few days since Julian had lifted. And on top of everything, Mira was still in the hospital and their communication was limited. However, this was no time to think about his never-ending to-do list. IPW was not a patient company and in their words, “Time is money.” With that, Julian quickly rushed out of bed and threw on yesterday’s clothes that were laid out on the floor. A quick hand-run through of the hair and he was on his way. He whipped the hotel-room door open and..…

Jessica Vail: Good morning Mr. Norris. My name is Jessica Vail, IPW Exclusive reporter. It is now 10:33 AM. Your interview was at 9. Therefore your interview has been cancelled.

Speechless and spent, Julian could only nod at everything this beautiful woman was saying. Being that he hadn’t really had too many female guests throughout the past few days, he was more interested in her professional appearance. Missing an interview? Doesn’t seem like a big deal considering how Julian wasn’t looking forward to it anyway. In fact, this may in fact be a blessing in disguise. Julian decided at this time that he would say a few parting words and move on to other things.

Julian Norris: Well thank you for letting me know, Miss. Vail. I apologize for making you wait.

Jessica looked rather … I guess “pissed off” would be the word. It seemed like all of Julian’s recent guests ended up crossing their arms and glaring at him. Use to it, Julian shrugged it off and began to shut the door. Hoping he would invite her inside though, Jessica threw out the last word.

Jessica Vail: …Julian.

Julian rolled his eyes at the tone of her voice and gradually opened the door. He waited for her response.

Jessica Vail: I really don’t have anything else going on today. If you’re still up to it, we could set something up in here.

It looked like Julian spoke to soon and now had no choice but to let her inside and continue on with the interview. With a shake “yes” of his head, the two walked inside along with a cameraman. He happened to notice that his room wasn’t exactly in neat order. So he rapidly threw some clothes aside and pulled the covers straight on the bed.

Julian Norris: So where would you like to do this bad boy?

Julian said as he sat down on the bed. Jessica smirked at the sexual implication and took a seat in one of the blue chairs nearby. Embarrassed by his lack of charisma, Julian’s face turned bright red and he also took a seat in a chair.

Jessica Vail: Have you done an interview before?

Julian Norris: Do you honestly have to ask me that?

Jessica Vail: … Sorry.

Julian Norris: Let’s just do it.

Jessica Vail: Alright. IPW interviews Julian Norris take one… Hello and welcome to IPW.com exclusive interviews with me, Jessica Vail. Today we are interviewing one of the competitors in IPW championship ladder match. He is the former PRO TV championship, IPW alumni, and self-proclaimed “Submission Ace.” Mr… Julian… Norris!

Julian Norris: Thank you for the illustrious and politically correct introduction Jessica.

Jessica Vail: This Tuesday you will be competing in a 4-way ladder match for the IPW championship. What are your thoughts on being in the main event?

Julian Norris: My thoughts on being in the main event? My thoughts are those that any person would have going into the biggest match of their career. …. I’m excited. I’m nervous. But most of all, I’m ready.

Jessica Vail: What are your thoughts on possibly winning the IPW championship?

Julian Norris: Well first of all, there is no possibly about it. I will win the IPW championship. And for me… it’s not just about winning a title. It’s about winning the most illustrious and historic title in professional wrestling. It’s about knowing that I am the best. It’s about my name being included with the all-time great champions. Seth Jerman… Trent Hawk… Aeson… Heavy Metal Hero. These are names that everyone recognizes, even to this day. I want people to look back and see “Julian Norris,” and remember the impact I had on this business.

Jessica Vail: I can see the passion you have for this. But, let me ask you a more personal question.

Julian Norris: My favorite kind.

Jessica chuckles as she tried to stay professional.

Jessica Vail: Rumors have been spreading rapidly around the web that your girlfriend, Mira Rose has left you and the business. Can you confirm this as true?

Julian Norris: Ha ha ha ha. Well Jessica, let me clue you and the rest of the world in on something. Rumors are exactly that… rumors. False information, not completely true. And if you or any other internet jerk knew me at all you would know that NO ONE leaves Julian Norris. So if…

Before Julian can continue on with his spiel, his pocket begins to vibrate. Jessica’s eyes go wide as he reaches down and pulls a red cell phone out of it.

Julian Norris: Oh shit. Can we pause the interview for a second?

Jessica isn’t given a chance to answer, because Julian immediately opens the phone and answers. The camera continues to roll without Julian’s recognition.

Julian Norris: Mira? Hey baby. How’s everything going? …. And what did the doctor say? Deliver!? You’re only 6 months in? No baby, we can’t do that. …. No I meant… can’t we wait until after the pay per view? MIRA! I’m not being selfish. You know how important this is to me. I know but…. Don’t yell. Mira! Do not yell. Mira…. Are you ok? …. Mira?! What do you mean we’re done with? What about the baby? Why are you doing this to me right now? Why!? ….. Hello? …. Mira? …. Hello?

Unsure of what to do, Jessica twitches nervously. Julian’s face has turned beat red. He slams the phone shut and throws it towards the floor. He takes a few deep breaths and attempts to regain his composure. Still having not realizing that the camera is rolling, he covers his face with both hands. Jessica tries to comfort him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jessica Vail: I’m sorry Julian. We can finish this some other time.

She stands up from the chair and begins to walk out of the room. The cameraman reaches up to flip the switch on the camera. However, Jessica grabs his hand and whispers to him.

Jessica Vail: Keep rolling on the way out.

The frail state of a man who seems to have lost it all, apparently, makes for good television. The two IPW workers stumble backwards out of the room. With a zoom of the lens, the camera can make out one final shot before exiting the room.

Jessica Vail: Thank you for your time Mr. Norris.

Seeing Julian’s appearance brings out some form of human emotion in Jessica, because she finally decides to pull the cameraman out of the room. We are left with one shot, which echoes words that could never be spoken. Droplets of water once again roll down the rough face of Julian. Never has he seemed more weak and inhuman than in this moment. He gently wipes the water from his eyes and stands up…. Ready to continue on with his list of irrelevant chores.

The scene fades.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
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Aaron
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[ *  * ]
Miscarriage of Misjudgment.

At night, at clubs and bars, you drink with friends. They buy you drinks because your name is in the magazines they read. But she's off with the older kids across the club, in the back of the bar, the ones who've figured it out, while you seek the dark spots and rotting, doomed faces destined to grow old and sit in hospital beds connected to tubes and wires, yellow piss bags, sludged shit, coughing a paint can rattle, wondering if it was worth it and whether they could've done better.You go home and drink more. Drink 'til everything goes muffled and warm and good and you sing to yourself and rock happy and alone on the couch. Then comes chill of dawn with light over purple hills to the east and you pull the covers back up; your face is a swollen mess. You look for something to lead you from the dark. You wear the pants and sweaters and shirts of an old man. You shake your pill bottle and toss it in your jacket pocket. Your muscles fade and flesh falls off the bone, drops like fruit gone to rot.

"I won't do it."

Roll The Tape...

A face? Distorted features appear through the glass of a half empty pint. Half a slanted eye blinking back into the camera. In a sea of rusty brown. The liquid blur disperses as we come into focus with Frank Gallows drowning his sorrows or peraps fueling his appetite with a crisp spring beer, fresh from the barrel in the cellar. Frank shaved the frothy foam from his upper lip.

FG:''I'm not going to do this Julian. I refuse. I'm not going to leave your un-born son or daughter fatherless and your wife widowed. I can't bring myself to imagine the grief that will be caused if metal and flesh collide. I just simply won't give myself the burden of knowing I've torn apart someone else's family, not matter how much this might matter to me. So I'm going to tell you, what everybody else has been wanting to say. Instead they're telling you to put yourself out there and give it your best shot, like you have nothing to lose. These people are instilling false hope into you Julian, their trying to take your mind away from the troubles at home and give you a confidence boost. The worst part is, is that you're taking this advice because nobody is going to tell Julian Norris that this isn't his night, right? But for once, you need to understand that this isn't about you, its about your child and Mira.

Any good friend would tell you the exact same thing. But you don't see your Hollywood buddies giving you the support you thought you would receive. Instead it comes from me.

Does that mean I'm your friend Julian? No, it certainly doesn't. Whether you chose to take my advice or not, is your choice and I'm not forcing your decision. I don't want Mira to be left holding a dead fetus as well as a dead husband, but if you decide to pick your life over that of your unborn child, then i will be obliged to correct your selfishness.

So you take this lucky break Julian. You go and you sit by Mira's bedside and you tell her how much you love her and you promise her that everything will be just fine. Know that you got of likely and that now you'll be able to play games with your child without being confined to the restrictions of a wheel chair. And Julian, i bet you that Mira will be pleased. Pleased that her husband put the family before his job. Pleased that her husband figured out that real love is stronger then the love for a hobby, that gives nothing back but a non-living perk. I won't think any less of you.

Being a man isn't all about the scars, the broken bones, the stitches. It's about knowing when to call it day. When to admit that you're no longer the better man. Right now, that's not you. Today, is not your day. And if you should so wish to entire into the main event this Wednesday then you shall find out then, that it is not your time."

Frank takes a swig from his glass. His cheeks filling up like a Puffer Fish.

FG:''So that leaves me with someone who we all seem to be forgetting. Vixen. Perhaps that old trick of keeping your head down,hoping to go un noticed only to then snatch the gold right from under our noses was working for you, up until now. The most important match of your career and yet you have nothing to say and nothing to prove.

I find that odd.

I never questioned your heart or your skill, up until now. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, just like i did Steven Jones last week. Previous impression lead me to believe that both of you were passionate, determined and unquestionably brave. Though now, with the lashings of many a tongue, you appear to have recoiled back into your shell, with no reason what so ever. Perhaps the truth hurts. Adam Green said some horrible things about you. A publicity stunt no less. But I'm afraid that this isn't the school yard. We could go tit for tat all week but we'd get nothing done. Though thats the mentality I'm having to deal with here. But i can't complain. If it means on less obstacle in my way, well then that just suits me fine. Your silence only reflects upon your confidence and any reply now, would only conclude your fear. So say anything you like Vixen, but i won't be listening...

Frank flips the camera the bird.

Cut.
................................
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Vixen Frost
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[ * ]
The USO, a nonprofit organization that brings moral boosting tours to the troops. Bringing fun and famous people to the military personnel as they defend freedom. One such tour took place recently as a couple of superstars toured Iraq on a whirlwind one day tour.

Getting on the transport plane the night that she had won her way into the ladder match at the Uprising pay per view, Vixen slept like the dead until a tap on her shoulder woke her in what would be early morning. The airman grinned apologetically as he motioned to the window where the sun was slowly setting over what looked like the desert. Stretching the sleep and pain out of her body, she gets to her feet and grabbing her bag, deplanes.

"Welcome to Iraq," says the young noncom as he reaches for her bag and escorts her towards a bunker where they will be staying that night to do the show later. "You don't know how much we've been looking forward to this," he adds as he opens a door and leads her inside.

Vixen can only smile half heartedly as she rubs a hand over her eyes. In reality she knew that she shouldn't have booked on to the whirlwind tour. After her win at Ignition, she should be back in the States preparing for the match of her life. A chance to finally overcome the pinnacle and win her first world championship. Instead she was here in Iraq.

"I appreciate the warm welcome. It's just been a long night, so to speak," she says with a bigger smile. "Is this where I will be getting ready?"

Nodding as he sets her gear on the bunk then backs out of the room leaving her to look over the room. Sighing, she smiles in rememberance of a room just like this...only it had been in the former Yugoslavia instead as she had taken part with her fellow soldiers in a peacekeeping mission there.

"I guess things never change," she jokes to no one as she opens the bag and pulls out a pair of ice blue camoflage tights and halter...

(You shouldn't be watching her change...you Pervs...)

The stage is lit up, a makeshift ring set up near it, as the base commander moves along it as the troops, free for the evening, are stomping and cheering. Reaching the microphone, he taps it lightly as the soldiers salute him. Motioning for everyone to sit down, he smiles as he leans into the microphone.

"We got a treat for you tonight," he starts out, his voice booming all over the mess hall where the show is taking place. "The USO has provided us with some class entertainment and for all you he men out there, a special challenge. IPW superstar Vixen Frost is here tonight to entertain you by offering one of you a big chance to step in the ring with the woman that could make history. So let’s not waste any time and bring her on out. Here she is...Vixen Frost.“

Tinny music plays over the speakers as Vixen steps out into the room to shouts and cheers. Smiling, she waves as she makes her way to the stage and stands with her hands behind her back. The crowd shouts louder as the commander looks over the group wondering who is going to be a volunteer for the match. Arms shoot up everywhere bringing a laugh to Vixen’s face. Finally a volunteer is chosen and heads up to the stage.

“I promise I’ll go easy on you,” says the lieutenant as he flexes and plays to the crowd as the two of them make their way to the makeshift ring. Vixen gently pats him on the shoulder before she slides into the ring. “I mean it,” he adds, “because I’m like a big fan.”

Vixen nods and teases the soldier, “You sound so confident. Let’s see what you got.” Moving to the middle of the ring, Vixen stretches out and waits for the soldier. “You ready?”

Bouncing on his toes, the soldier takes a few swings and warms up and nods as somewhere a bell sounds and the soldier moves towards Vixen with bad intentions written on his face. Standing her ground, and meets the charge with a monkey flip that sends the soldier to his back. Rolling with the soldier, both make it to their feet and the soldier throws a punch towards Vixen who catches it and gently rolls the arm around the soldiers back and holds him immobile before asking him if he gives up.

“I ain’t giving up to a hammerlock,” he says with a small grimace as Vixen wrenches it tighter. He manages to get her off her feet to break the hold then turns it into a hammerlock on her. Smiling, Vixen commends him then reverses it again. Pulling away from the soldier, Vixen rolls her shoulder then charges in intent on finishing the match, but is caught and picked up by the soldier. Using her momentum however, Vixen manages to take him over with a crucifix and hold him down for the three.

“The winner of the match...Vixen Frossssttttt!” exclaims the commander. Bringing her to the stage again, he holds up her arm in the age old image of winners everywhere. Vixen smiles as she waves to the soldiers and makes her way backstage as Larry the Cable Guy walks out on stage.

Backstage, the blonde shakes out her long ice blue tipped hair and grabs the bag that is lying on the floor. Moving towards the doorway, she meets up with the airman again, smiling as she points towards the airstrip where there is a transport is waiting to leave with soldiers that are going home again.

“I don’t suppose I could catch a lift back to the states huh?” she enquires. “Got a match to prepare for and I ain’t going to do that if I can’t get to the US.”

The airman looks Vixen over and nods slowly. “I think we might work something out,” he offers with a leer. Vixen recognizes the look and shakes her head.

“I’m married and I don’t pay for rides like that,” she says with a laugh. “Besides, I could offer my services to entertain the men on the way back. Answering questions,” she adds quickly when she sees the leer of the airman.

“Ok ma’am, transport leaves at 23:00, be ready,” he says as he takes in the woman who smirks back.

“I’m ready now,” she replies as she brandishes the sack. The soldier can’t believe her and looks around for more luggage, still the chauvinist that believes that a woman couldn’t travel with less than 3 suitcases. Vixen sighs and holds up a hand. “Let me save you the trouble. Only luggage I have is this bag and that is it. As a former soldier, I tend to pack light.”

Vixen laughs as she spies the outrageous look on the soldier’s face. Shaking her head, she glances at the watch that is on her wrist and then at the soldier again. “Look, flight takes off in about twenty minutes. Think I could go find myself a seat for takeoff?

Waving her through, the soldier nods and smiles as she moves by him. Climbing on the transport, she stows her bag near an empty seat and smiles at the soldiers on the flight. Standing on her seat, Vixen looks over the group then opens her arms and raises her voice knowing that she will be barraged by questions but it will keep her mind off what is going to be happening at the Uprising pay per view. And maybe just spending time not worrying about the match will help in the long run. And knowing her opponents, they are probably verbally bashing each other and her time and time again.

“So...anyone got any questions before we takeoff?”
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Cristy
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[ * ]
[size=4]Number Four[/size]





















… Where there is liquor, there are bars.

… Where there are bars, there are washed-up, drunk dumbasses.

… Where there are drunk dumbasses, there is…. Frank Gallows.


The scene opens…. Fuck that… the scene doesn’t fucking matter in a situation such as this. What matters is the words that are about to leak out of Julian Norris’ mouth. So if you really need a picture in your mind to be content, go ahead imagine Vixen undressing. The image doesn’t really matter. … His words… do.

Julian Norris: …Well who else did you expect? Santa Claus? A drunkard punk decided to make it his business to call me out? And how did you think I would respond to that?


…………….



……………..



……………..




(these are dramatic pauses)



………………



………………..



(just go with it)



……………….



Julian Norris: Well to be honest with you. … I’m flattered. You see, I can only see one reason for you to take personal attacks at me. I’m obviously the biggest threat in this match. I’m obviously the man you fear most. No? Not true? Then explain to me why you so badly want me out of this match? You want me to go home? You promote it. You are my biggest supporter. “Go home,” you say? You can say anything you want Mr. Gallows. You can give me all the advice you want. I’d love to hear it. I’d love to hear a lifeless bar-dwelling scumbag’s analysis of what’s right and wrong for me and my family. Trust me Frank, if I were to listen to anyone, you sure as hell would be the last person on my list. I don’t need your “moral” take on life.


……. Julian takes a deep breath and continues …….


Julian Norris: You want to make this personal? You want to talk a big game? You want to go on a drunken rampage and portray yourself as an underdog? You think you're going to take us all by surprise? Adam Green, Vixen Frost, Julian Norris. Those are recognized names. Frank Gallows? Who the fuck is that!? You're a no one Frank, and you couldn't care less. Yeah... keep talking Frank. Go for it! No one is listening to you. No one is taking you seriously. And I’ve got news for you… underdogs NEVER prosper. They get their 15 minutes of fame and go back to living their filthy lifestyles. “But, you’re different,” …. You say. This is your destiny? … Your time? You want to make a name for yourself? Tell you what; I will meet you face to face in the middle of that ring. And from here on out Frank Gallows will be remembered as the man who tapped out to Julian Norris, the night I became IPW Champion. … That’s enough of you for now. You got your airtime. I think I made my point and I could very well be done. Instead, I plan on addressing EVERYONE out there who has some sort of judgment to pass on me. Just like my buddy… Frank… here.


….. (this is another dramatic pause) ….


Julian Norris: I’ve heard it from everyone out there. You aren’t a man Julian. You should be there with your wife and your baby! You are a sorry, inhuman, piece of shit. You will never be a champion! You will never be enough. So this message goes out to all the fat-ass, gossip-filled fans. This message goes out to all of the wrestlers in Impact Pro Wrestling who think I’m an immoral bastard. This message goes out to my three opponents. …. You DO NOT know Julian Norris! You will NEVER know Julian Norris. And if you think you are friends with me, you surly must realize that there are no friends in wrestling. You think any of you have any right to tell me what I should or should not do? You’re incredibly mistaken. I have ALWAYS done what I've wanted. And I am not you, your neighbor, your brother, your friend down the street, your favorite wrestler, your role model, your champion. I am Julian “FUCKING” Norris. …And I….


…. Julian chuckles rather intensely, mocking the world. …Almost as if he has lost all senses….


Julian Norris: … I’m not going fucking anywhere.

……



……



…….


Cut
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--Damn Greendaddy--<select name=which style="font-Times:Bold;font-size: 7.5pt;background-color:black;font-weight:Bold;color:white">
<option>The Records
<option>----IPW--- 8-3
<option>----PRO---- 7-0
<option?-----IPW(2)----2-0
<option>---Overall--- 16-3
<option></select>
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AdamGreenDaddy
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[ *  * ]
Adam Green stands in the doorway of a local gym in Jersey. Dressed about as casual as a man could be, jeans and a TapOut shirt Adam just stands, back leaning against the door frame in the dim light.

I’m going to be very blunt with you people. Because unlike Frank Gallows…my mother has already passed away, god rest her soul, so I don’t have to wipe ass and fetch soup. Unlike Vixen Frost…I’m not over there promoting gang bangs with the troops in IRAQ. You’ll get no sympathy from me towards them. They did it because they are men, and goddamnitt Bush deserves his own national holiday for doing the right goddamn thing. Unlike Julian Norris, I’m not battling inner demons. I’m not arguing with my slut girlfriend. And I could give a shit less about his newborn, unborn, never born, might be born, or what ever the hell it is. Unlike you three fools…I’m doing what it takes to win the IPW championship. That’s keeping my eye on the ball. That’s training every day, harder and harder. While Frank Gallows mends lost time with Trey Deep and changes his mothers soiled bed sheets, I’m running my ass off building my endurance. While Vixen is blowing our troops, I’m hitting the bags. I’m working on combinations. IPW Title worthy combinations. I’m doing speed bags. I’m doing sit ups. I’m doing it all. While Julian Norris has his mid life crisis…I’m pumping weights. Why? Because THAT is what wins championships people. Not helping the sick, supporting the troops, and damn not worrying about whinny bitches in the hostipital. Yeah, it’s not very ethic…but it’s what gets the job done. You see while you three idiots are so consumed with your lives…I’m preparing to win the IPW Championship. So trust me, after Tuesday…you’ll have plenty of time to be ethical.

Adam walks inside the door way, getting a better view of a generic ring in the middle of the building.

Frank. First and foremost if you think Trey Deep being your bother has any effect on me, you’re as out of your mind as your profile on IPW.com reads. Simple and very blunt fact, you’re in this match, not him. However, trust in my words, I’d do to him, the same I’m going to do to you.

To elaborate a bit more, he neglects to mention that when we faced I had a partial tear of my right ACL. So yeah, he beat me. 3 years ago. Let me make sure you know is has no matter in the events that will take place at Uprising. I promise you that.

Now, as I move on, because trust me…I have a lot to say to you. So like I always say, when Icons speak…bitches just like you listen. So lets start with something you said, which I thought was humorous…considering every single one of my many, many, many opponents have said to me. “This ain’t a movie.” No fucking shit Frank. I know exactly what this is, because I’ve held more titles than you’ve had matches. Don’t insult my intelligence you pathetic drunk. You see, yes I make movies. Yes I’m famous. But you see my friend, I became famous in the movie industry because they noticed I was on the top of the world in the wrestling profession. My wrestling dominance is what got my break in Hollywood. So don’t get it twisted, I’m not here because of movies, I’m in movies because my entire career I’ve done the same thing I will do at Uprising, that’s win titles. I was winning world titles before I ever made my first movie. I was destroying opponents before my first endorsement deal. Don’t you see Frank, I’ve been doing this LONG before I was famous in other walks of life, and Frank…news flash my red haired friend…I STILL AM!

You talk about a false limelight, please explain to me why it’s a false limelight. You say I’m ignoring the actualities of this match? Not in it for the fame, the money. Blah blah blah kid. Let me guess…now you’re doing this for your rotting mother, and I will get to her later. Listen Frank, please for your own good. I’m already famous. I already have enough money to support my lifestyle 10 times over. I do it for the thrill. The thrill of knowing I’m the superior athlete. I get a kick out of it sunshine. Standing there, standing tall, standing ABOVE the fallen bodies of people JUST LIKE YOU…the better man. As I look down at all those beaten bodies…something just works for me. I love it. I don’t give a damn about the fans, I don’t give a damn about my opponents, and I don’t give a damn about anyone’s respect. I give a damn about being the best…and that’s something I’ve been for a long time, and something I will be for a long time to pass.


Adam slowly moves towards the old wooden steps that lead into the ring, taking a seat on the middle step.

You said earlier this week in reference to you 3 victories, that you didn’t walk all over them, but you could…and that you don’t throw your weight around to make yourself look good. Then WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE? What are you trying to prove? That your opponents can take you to the limit? I mean Jesus F’N Christ son…do you not understand the idea of victory. You have to go out there and try to dominate your adversary Frank. You can’t make it in this world taking it easy. You simply can’t. Yes you’ve made it this far, but I gaurren-goddamn-tee you that “taking it easy” won’t win you a world title, it’ll just leave you face or back down, however I decide to leave you, drowning in your own pool of despair and defeat.

It’s funny you mention the media and things of this nature. You insinuate that I believe in my own hype. Well to be perfectly clear Mr. Gallows…I CREATED MY OWN HYPE. The way you speak I feel off a fucking hay truck and landed in this match. You act like I’m slipped and stumbled into what I am today. I’ve worked my ass off, harder than any other athlete in this world to be who I am, so damn me if you like for enjoying my life. Because it’s apparent it’s a lot, better than yours. The fact of the matter is very simple, you should be less concerned with what I believe in, and more concerned with what everyone else says about me and my “hype”. Vegas has me a 6 to 1 favorite this Tuesday. You think that’s a miss-print? A typo? An accident? When people tell you don’t have a chance, they say it with legitimate reason. There’s honest backing on all the statements. That’s because I am who I am, I’ve done what I’ve done, and more importantly you ARE who you ARE.

I don’t have to do this to keep my credibility Frank. It’s forever cemented in wrestling history. You make all the false claims, this title defines who you are? How so? You’ve never been a world champion? You want a title that defines who you are? Try out for the Prue Wrestling title, or what ever second rate titles this federation has to offer. Because trust me, there is absolutely nothing about you that says World Champion to me or anyone else for that matter.

I don’t need this title to prove to myself I’m the best. I need it because it’s a symbol. Because of hard-headed ignorant and self-arrogant assholes like yourself I have to have this symbol. Because I could tell you I’m the best until I’m blue in the fucking face and you wouldn’t believe it, and you don’t have to. But when I stand tall, and I hold that title…you can’t deny my greatness, my superiority. You will have to bow to me, and recognize me as the best…as the champion.

Before you say what defines you, make sure you understand the definition of the thins you compare yourself to my friend. Because I promise you, you’re further from championship material that all 4 of us. At Uprising I simply can’t wait to prove it.


Adam pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

Now…about your mother. As I said earlier…I don’t have to worry about wiping my rotting mother’s ass all week. You see Frank…you need to put that old bitch to sleep and concentrate on what matters….that’s the IPW championship. Because whether you like it or not…taking care of your pathetic mother doesn’t pay the bills. It doesn’t get you A-list status. It don’t do a goddamn thing for your future. You need to leave her to rot in that stinking bed with your washed up brother and get your head in the game…because if you don’t you’ll find yourself down late in the fourth quarter with no chance of a comeback.

I certainly hope you haven’t promised her a title win in her honor. Because is that’s the case not only will your mother know her son as a pussy. A weak human being. A man who runs from his problems. But she’ll think of you just before the croaks as a LIAR. As I said…I don’t give a rats ass about your mother, I don’t care about her condition, however her condition with life, is about the same as your hoping of winning the IPW Championship…THEY ARE BOTH ON THEIR FUCKING DEATH BED!

Just like you said, you’ve been running you’re entire life. Keep running. Because I’m telling you Frank…standing up now will be the biggest mistake you ever made.

So Frank, bring Trey Deep, bring your mother, dig up your fathers rotten bones, bring your grandparents tombstones…BRING IT ALL…I will put you down, smack your brother up, out your mother out of her fucking misery, and piss on your fathers remains and your grandparents tombstones if that’s what it takes to be the next IPW…champion.


Adam smiles arrogantly into the camera.

Now. Julian Norris. You need to get your priorities in order. You’re either a Hitman member, or you’re not. Trust me, health insurance will be a lot cheaper if you’re a member.

Frank said we didn’t give you the support. He’s just trying to con you Julian. He doesn’t want you there because he knows one way or another I’m walking out the champ…and I guess with you not there…his chances go from exactly none…to about 3 percent.

Regardless…I’m telling you the truth, and exactly what you need to hear. Fuck Mira, fuck the baby. GO out there and do your job. Because if you don’t, that means no pay check…that means no baby formula, no diapers, and not roof over your goddamn head. Now you tell me, you don’t want Mira working in Vixen’s line of work do you? Fucking total strangers for enough money for the next meal? You don’t want your child laying on the floor covered in a blanket while Mommy fucks some dirty black guy (NO RACISM INTENDED) for enough money to make it this week. You don’t want that. So I’m telling you now, you’re either with the Hitmen…or you not. Get ya mind right.


Adam stands, and enters the ring, standing in the middle.

In closing guys, I want to point out one last thing. You three are playing the average card. The American dream. The truth is…there’s nothing “average” about this business. You have to be great. The dreams of an average man don’t come true in this world. Especially not under my watch. It just proves none of you belong in this match. You can’t separate your lives from work enough to even prepare. So how do any of you expect to be ready? Really. Fact is…when you decided to left your personal lives become so involved with your work this week…you pretty much handed the title over to me. If I don’t win this match it will be the biggest injustice in wrestling history. Because I’m the ONLY athlete in this match who’s preparing for the match.. I’ve shut myself off from the outside world, while you have shut yourselves off from this title match. This ain’t “Joes vs. Pros” so scrap your dreams. This is reality, and this is the real world…and I’m your fucking wake up call.

So like Frank’s dying mother…like Norris’ dying retarded premature baby, and like Vixens’…well career…take refuge in my words. The pain won’t last much longer. Because I’m going to put each and every one of you out of your misery. You’re End of Dayz is coming…SOONER THAN YOU THINK!

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Vixen Frost
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[ * ]
The flight back to the states was a fun filled even though the tour in Iraq had taken away two days of training with the flights to and from Iraq. And even though she had not gotten any training in, Vixen was preparing well for her match. She had gotten lots of advice from the soldiers and she took the many wishes and many suggestions to heart. And now it was getting closer and closer to putting them into practice.

Once she had made it back to the States, Vixen knew that all her movements would be under a microscope. Her three opponents would be watching close for sure. She had already gotten the call from friends who had a chance to see just what it was that her opponents were saying and what had been going on since her disappearance...

Back in Houston, Vixen decided that if she was going to prepare, she would have to get the proper equipment to train. Thus she found herself at a Home Depot as she looked for the hardware section. Approaching her, one of the staff has the goofy ‘I am going to sell her everything’ smile that all salesmen wear when they see an easy mark.

“Hello ma’am,” he says with the smoozy voice that most females would fall for. But Vixen isn’t most females. “Can I help ya with what you might want?” he adds with a smirk.

Vixen turns and smiles as she nods. “I’m looking for the ladders actually.”

The clerk smiles and nods as he looks over to the hardware aisles. “Oh...doing some home renos are we?” he says in a voice that grates on the nerves of Vixen but she bites her tongue as appears calm for the moment.

“Something like that,” she replies, tongue in cheek. Better she just keep it simple and on the QT. “I’m looking to see what kind of ladders are on the market. I want to get the best.” She needed to know what kind of damage she could cause with the ladder.

“Oh, well then let’s take a look at some of the equipment we have...any specific size in mind?”

Well...here it is. The size question, and of course, Vixen holds her laughter back. “Size doesn’t matter really. Just as long as it stands straight up and won’t go down easily,” she says with a wide eyed look. “Let’s see what you have in 7 or 8...feet.”

The clerk takes her towards the display of ladders. Leaving her there for a moment, he heads to answer a call that had come over the intercom. Walking along the row of ladders, Vixen lets her fingers trace along them.

“This is it. The weapon of choice for this match. The steel that we will have to climb to claim the gold in IPW. I am I ready for this...” her thoughts ran riot as the cool steel chilled her slightly. “I have to get into the ring with the three men that were looking to prove that I wasn’t ready to step toe to toe with the big boys in IPW. Lord only knows what they are going to do to me in that ring. Lord only knows what I am going to have to do to get to the top of the ladder and get the gold. Sure I could be talking down my opponents but truth be told they are all bigger and tougher than I am.”

Sweat trickles down her back under the dark shirt she has on as she looks over the selection. Fear grips her slightly as she can visualize just what might happen when that steel meets her flesh. Suddenly, she pulls her finger away quickly and looks dispassionately at the bead of blood that rises from her finger that had caught a sharp edge on a ladder.

“First blood,” she whispers, “and I am not even in the ring yet.” Laughing softly, she places the finger in her mouth, sucking gently to clean it of and then moves further along the row of ladders, watching as each gets slightly bigger. Finally she is joined by the clerk again.

“So, we made our choice ma’am?” he says as he clutches his hands together politely like some politician contemplating some very big kickbacks. He sees the sale that he is going to make.

“I think so,” says Vixen as she points to three separate ladders, one eight foot, a ten foot and a fifteen foot ladder. “Those three definitely. They look about right.. “ she adds with a smile. Moving to grab a second ten foot ladder, Vixen picks it up with her hands and grasps it like a weapon and swings it slightly bringing a look of worry to the clerk.

“Ummm...ladders aren’t weapons miss,” he chokes out as Vixen begins to use the ladder to do quick bicep curls. “So how will you pay for these?”

Vixen has the grace to blush and sets the ladder down to reach into the back pocket of her jeans and pulls out a small leather wallet and slides a slim piece of plastic out and hands it to the clerk. “Credit card please. My boss Mr. Green sent me here with it.”

Taking the card, the clerk rings up the sale, and bringing the receipt and card back, he holds it out for her to sign. “Congratulations miss, you just spent a great $235 on some very great ladders. And thanks for shopping here at Home Depot.”
Vixen takes back the card and signs the receipt with a florish. “No, thank you for all your help today. I would just like to have these delivered to my ranch...”

With that, Vixen provides her address and then walks out of the store. As she does, her clerk is joined by another who slaps his friend on the back.

“You lucky dog...that was Vixen Frost yanno. Man, I am her biggest fan!” he exclaims as the first clerk looks down at the receipt and wonders if it matters that he pay for the ladders so he can keep the autograph as the scene fades out.
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Vixen Frost
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[ * ]
Finally Vixen had managed to make it to a gym where she began to stretch in preparation for training finally for the match that was fast approaching. She seemed to be running late on everything and of course, all her opponents have taken her to task for not speaking about them…in general, treating them like they didn’t even matter.

To some extent, they really didn’t matter at all.

Vixen moved away from the door and reached the free weights as she set water and a towel down on a bench. Looking over the selection, she pulls off two weights and moves towards the bench intent on losing herself in a workout. If you asked her, this hoopla surrounding the biggest match in IPW this week should just be forgotten. Granted that it was for the IPW title but still…all it is, for all intents and purposes, is a match. A rather dangerous and specialized match but a match none the less.

Laying the weights on the bench, Vixen straightens and pulls an I-pod from the pile of towel and water. Inserting the buds into her ears, she slides her thumb over the touch pad as she begins the playlist and then picks up the weights once more. Getting into position, she begins with a light set of bicep curls as music tries to drive out thoughts of Uprising and the title match.

Unsuccessful at losing herself in the exercise, she begins to ruminate on what is about to happen in this match and looks over the strengths and weaknesses of her opponents. Silent as the grave, she continues to work out as her mind works.

Adam Green, Frank Gallow and Julian Norris, the three men in this match at Uprising. Any one of the three would be a helluva champion in IPW. All of them have the skillset and the mindset to win this match. And probably will if you let them beat you Kit.

Even in her mind, her psyche uses the endearment. To the others in the gym, the grin that crosses the lips of the woman is a mystery.

I can’t believe some of the things that I have heard about what everyone is talking about. Either ignoring everything including their personal lives for focus on this match, or off on some kind of family quest, or denying everything and training and preparing for the match. And then there is me…stepping into the background, watching and learning. Preparing without seeming to or just letting it go and not preparing at all, I could be doing either.

If they only knew what I was going through to prepare for this match, they wouldn’t be so quick to judge me as nothing more than a nuisance with delusions of grandeur. What my opponents don’t get is that I am a private person outside of the ring. I don’t do movies or have the life of a soap opera…I ain’t looking to fulfill any guilt ridden family quests…I have my family priorities well in hand. The only thing I have to focus on is the match and climbing that ladder to get the gold.


Letting the free weights falls slightly as she stands and shakes out her biceps then begins working on her shoulders. Again, she loses herself in thought as the mindless lift and drop of the sets is secondary.

I know that Frank Gallow sees me as a coward. Like he knows what I have been through…what I have or haven’t done. The life I have led shrouded by mystery because I don’t think that anything in my life needs to be public fodder for everyone and their brothers to see. I caught the talk he did from behind the dutch courage of alcohol. I really think he should just worry about himself and not worry about the private lives of people that don’t involve him.

But I know he is on a hot streak and I know that he is undefeated so far in IPW. But that isn’t what he needs to rest his laurels on. He needs to remember that we are as hungry to wear the gold and we will walk through him to get it if we have to. And by we, I mean each person that is in that match. I suspect that some unlikely alliances could happen for the moments in the match…


The song changes as Vixen finally finishes with the free weights and moves to set them back on the rack then grabs the towel to wipe the sweat off her neck as she moves towards the treadmill and steps aboard it and begins to run with the gentle speed of the track. Once again, her mind wanders, leaving the subject of Frank Gallow consigned to the immediate past and moving onto another in the match.

I wonder if what Frank Gallow was talking about was true. That Julian Norris is letting Mira go through what they are going through. I know I really can’t get involved with that. It’s bad enough I got dragged into the Adam Green and Blaze paternity thing just by being an innocent bystander. But I do have to think that Julian is letting too much get to him. He is acting like the title defines him, and in the process losing everything that could really define him the best. And if you ask me, I would rather lose the match than lose that. I couldn’t put a title in front of my family.

But knowing that he is sacrificing his family for this title means that he is a desperate man. And those men are dangerous because they don’t let things like emotion or compassion guide them. Of all the men in the match, he might just be the one to fear the most. However, on the other side of the coin…he might be letting the emotional baggage weigh him down and that will make him easier to beat. Or at least manage…


Vixen’s train of thought is derailed by the loud beeping and sudden stop of the treadmill. Blushing furiously, she grabs the towel and moves off as she can hear the chuckles of the staff nearby between songs. Taking a long sip of the waterbottle then setting it down on the bench near the heavy bag, she stretches her neck as she pulls on half gloves then flexes her fists as she begins to work over the bag.

Then of course there is Mr Blowhard. Adam Goddamn Green. Sometimes I think someone should take a very big pin and burst that bubble he is living in. To listen to him is to hear how he is so much better than anyone in this world. Big deal…he’s a former champion…a former movie star…

You know, that word seems to come up a lot where Adam is concerned…former. Like past accomplishments are going to get him the gold handed to him. Like I am going to let that happen…


Vixen doesn’t realize it but her anger at Green is fueling her punches into the heavy bag and setting it to swinging. Mindless of the crowd she is drawing, she slams fists and the odd occasional kick into the canvas of the bag.

I CAN’T believe him at times. The way he talks to me totally peeves me off. And lord forbid that he have a civil tongue in his head. I don’t know why he has taken such a strong dislike to me. Whatever have I done? I thought we were friends before but that seems to have gone right out the window. And why was he harping so much on me forgetting Kevin…he sounded like a guy that wanted me to move on…

At this point, Vixen stops and catches the bag as she breaths heavily, her mind scrambling at that thought.

He wants me to move on because he has a thing for me? How silly you are Kit. He hates you with a passion and that is the only passion he feels for you. He would love to put you down and out and would probably nut himself if he could stand over your prone body as he is holding the gold. You just get that thought right out of your mind and let’s get this work out finished. You got things to do at the ranch that are more important that what might be.

Letting go of the bag, Vixen grabs up the towel and the waterbottle as she flees to the locker room to change, a smile on her face as she ponders just what later will bring at the ranch, all thoughts of the ladder match at Uprising being left on the gym floor.
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Vixen Frost
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[ * ]
Relaxing in the setting sun of Texas as Vixen takes a slow sip of coffee. Sitting on the hammock strung between two trees, she lifts her feet and lets the netting sway as she looks up at the night and the stars blinking into existance. From inside the house, the soft sounds of Nascar programming can be heard but not clear enough to intrude on her thoughts.

Wrapped in a blanket, she gently sways as she ponders the match coming up at Uprising. Four people will walk into that ladder match intent on winning the the IPW gold. So intent that they will do almost anything or would they?

"Adam would," she says to no one in particular. "Julian and Frank Gallow too if truth be told. Am I that bad?"

Self doubts eat at the confidence of the blonde woman who will step into the ring this week at the Uprising pay per view with a chance to walk out the IPW champion. Doubts that for most people are viable but for Vixen, only feeds the fire she has banked, waiting for the night of Uprising to show the world just how good she really was.

See, she knew the score. Vixen was the ultimate underdog in this match and that just means that she is going to have to overcome odds that seem insurmountable. But it isn't anything she hadn't done before. Or will again. Her mind goes back in time to her childhood where sometimes survival was the goal.

"Vixen!"

The papery voice of a woman echos off the walls of the dingy apartment as a small statured girl stares at herself in the mirror hanging on the door of what could only be considered a closet...not a room by any means of the word. Long blonde hair hangs lank around her head as she wipes her hands down a pair of raggedy jeans. The man's button down had seen better days but it was clean and worn to the comfort point.

"Vixen, time for school," says the old woman who was leaning against the railing of the kitchen, a cigarette hanging from her mouth as she scratched herself slowly and coughed. The rattle in her throat indicative of a life long smoker, she turns back to the stove, and shovels eggs and stringy bacon onto a plate and slides it across an old fifties chrome table gotten from some garage sale.

Vixen moves into the room, a tired look on her face as she smiles at the lady at the stove. "Do I gotta go?" she asks, hopeful that the old lady would have sympathy on her. Hating school like she did, Vixen would do almost anything to miss it. It wasn't that she wasn't smart...rather it was the whole school dynamic. To say that Vixen didn't fit in was like saying the Titanic was a rubber dinghy.

Coughing, the lady pulls the cigarette from her mouth and nods. "Course ya have to go girl. It ain't like it's gonna kill ya or nothing," says the old lady with a cackle.

Mumbling that it just might, Vixen grabs a couple of slices of bacon and a piece of toast and makes her way out of the apartment and down the stairs, her bag flung over her shoulder. Racing to the bus stop, she barely catches the bus and flops into a seat, sinking down to almost hide behind a book that she rushes to open. The ride is uneventful as she sighs along with the hydraulics of the air breaks as the doors of the bus are opened and the rush of students hits the pavement outside of the high school.

Dragging her feet, Vixen joins them, slowly making her way to the front doors and down the hall towards her homeroom. Hoping to make it without running into anyone that could ruin her day, she has those hopes dashed by a rather punkish looking fellow that is holding court in front of the door to her locker.

"Excuse me," says Vixen, her voice tinged with a strange mix of fear and anger. The boy gloats at his friends, his bad Billy Idol look missing the mark as he strikes a more aggressive pose. Rolling her eyes, she moves closer against indicating he should move.

Leaning up towards the blonde, he smirks. "Gonna have ta make me Vixen," he whispers into her ear, his voice confident and menacing as he smirks at his friends. "Besides, I was here first." Angrily, Vixen shoves closer and elbows her way into the locker and opens it as the boy motions to his buddies how he let her in then leans against the locker and slams it shut, almost catching her fingers inside it. "Time's up," he says as he moves her back and begins to ignore her like she is nothing.

Heading away from her locker, Vixen moves into the classroom where she slid into a desk that was at the back of the room. Sitting there, she has her head down, intent on a piece of work for math class when she is interrupted by someone bumping her desk causing her pencil to skip down the paper.

"God...thanks for that," she starts angrier before looking up into the intense eyes of the school's star wrestler. He leans over, cocking one eyebrow at Vixen who backs away for the moment but then leans forward again. "Do you mind?" she adds with a touch of foolheartness that just pushed his buttons.

Putting his hand on her desk, he smirks as he slides it and the math book to the side and off the desk. "Nah, don't mind at all," he says cockily as Vixen's hands clench angrily. With a laugh, he sits down and starts reading a wrestling magazine that he pulls out, leaving Vixen to silently fume.

So far she was having a really good day...if you count the harassment and total treating of her like she was nothing to worry about a great day. What else could happen she wondered with a sigh of frustration. And it wasn't too long until she found out.

"Bitch move," said a voice from behind her as she stood near the fountain. Turning to find the guy that ruled the school. Think about it...he's the one that drove the nice car, flashed the million dollar smile, you know...basically was the man. And from the looks of him, figured that he was god's gift to existance. Vixen's skin crawled as she bit her tongue and stood her ground. The boy just glares at her and lowers the daddy bought oakleys and motions at Vixen. "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I heard you," she replies softly.

"Then why aren't you moving? Listen when guys like me, bitches like you should listen," he says with a smirk before brushing past her, sending her into the lockers beside her. Vixen puts a hand on the locker and pushes herself off the locker and gritting her teeth glares after the retreating back, cursing under her breath in french.

There are days when she would wish to be able to just once...just once she would be able to give back what she has had to take from the guys here...


Vixen lays back and wipes a hand across her face as the door to the ranch house opens and a figure stands in the light and calls out to the woman on the hammock.

"You comin' in darlin?"

Vixen smiles and nods as she swings her legs over the side of the hammock and stands before walking into the house.
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The scene opens on a face, the smile on it indicative of a rather impish wit and goodnatured humour. As the camera pulls back, the face is framed by blonde curls that are tipped in ice blue.

“I thought that it was time that I do the expected for my opponents and give them what they have been wanting me to for this whole week,” Vixen says with a smirk. “Now I could have just sat back and said nothing and all that would have done is make them think that I wasn’t going to put up any fight and that the fatal fourway ladder match would be a triple threat with you three big strong men. And you know I said to myself… ‘Self, do you really want to do that to Julian, Frank or Adam?’ and it made me think.”

Vixen crosses her arms over her chest as she relaxes to talk to the camera, finally opening up about the match to the public.

“I have sat back and watched as my opponents deal with the pressure of the upcoming match and I just have to wonder if it is all worth it. I saw Julian Norris ready to risk everything for this shot,” she says, slowly, sadly shaking her head. “I’ve seen Frank Gallow stage an intervention for Julian from behind the dark gold liquid of beer. And I have seen Adam Green at his Dave the Barbarian best, talking trash and putting everyone including yours truly down. If that is what stepping into a title match means then by all means, you guys can have it.”

What could this proud woman be thinking? Sounds like she is admitting defeat even before the match starts. That isn’t Vixen is…is it?

“Now before my opponents get all uppity and think that I am throwing in the towel and won’t show at the match, they have another thing coming,” she states with a grin. “I am not ready to lay down for any of you but I also have put things into perspective and if you ask me, I think that I am the only one that is showing any kind of intelligence about this match.”

Now that is the Vixen that we know and love…

“I’ve been getting ready, and trust me, I haven’t been skimping on the training. But where Adam is open and braggadocious,” she says then stops before smirking. “And just for you Adam, that is a big word meaning overly proud and bragging in excess.” Brushing her hair back as one curl softly caresses her cheek, she continues on her rant. “Where was I…oh yes, defining big words for Adam Green. When it comes to training Adam, I am nowhere near as dedicated to strength training or bulking up. See, I set my training for endurance…stamina…speed and agility,” she rhymes off as she quickly counts on her fingers. "In this match, strength isn’t what is needed. You would have to pull that big bulky frame of yours up a ladder to take the title. But bulk makes you heavy and strength makes you slow. Sadly that means you are slow and heavy…two things that are disadvantages in a ladder match when speed and quickness are better assets.”

Shrugging she holds her arms out then leans forward, her hands placed in front of her it appears.

“Oh and Adam,” she says with a smirk. “I love how you keep referring to me as a whore. You really have to get your mind out of the gutter. Just because you tend to associate with that kind of eyecandy, with one exception, I just have to wonder if you want to include me in that group. I know that I have beauty…or so I have been told,” she admits with a slight blush before adding, “and I have read what has been said about me in the top five this week. Begs to wonder why people can’t talk to me when I have such a nice rack that would get their attention.”

Vixen uses two fingers and motions over her chest drawing the camera’s view then moves them upward to point at her eyes.

“This is where you need to focus Adam. I am more than my T&A….Well, I can still use T&A to describe it…but they stand for talent and assets…two words that you probably discount when it comes to women,” she says. “But think back Adam. Think back to the one time you got to team up with me for a match. You didn’t doubt my ability then so why are you doubting it now…oh that’s right…I just might use that ability to beat you in this match. Don’t worry Adam, I won’t use big words when I tell you that I am not going to give you the chance to doubt me because I will put you down in the middle of the ring and then let you watch me as I open the ladder over your prone body and climb it ever so slowly to pluck the title down and claim the championship. And with that, I am going to change focus for a minute to address your little buddy.”

Vixen stretches her hands out in front of her, cracking her knuckles like some kind of piano prodigy preparing to play a concerto.

“Listen Gilligan…I mean Julian,” she starts with a chuckle before her face registers a more serious look. “Before I continue in my comedic vein like I always do, I have something that I want to say. I am sorry to hear about Mira being sick. And I am sorry that you are so willing to lose it all just to win. I went through that and trust me, it wasn’t worth it. And not to be cocky or anything but what happens if you lose? Have you taken that into account hmmm?”

Looking saddened, Vixen wipe a hand over her eyes then sighs and straightens once again.

“I feel for you Julian, I really do, but when it comes to this thing we like to call careers, you have to make choices. And your choices aren’t the right ones in some people’s opinions. I am not going to ram my morals down your throat about it,” she adds, “but piece of friendly advice…just think about what you are doing and what you are doing it for.”

Vixen turns to the side and brings one leg up to cross over the other as she again begins to smirk. Swinging the leg, she once again glances at the camera.

“And then there is you Frank Gallow,” she starts with a patently false smile. “I am sure that right about there, you clicked off the television that you are watching this on and believe me I don’t blame you. Who wants to sit and listen to someone that has kept their head down and stayed out of the spotlight only to come out now, a day before the most important night of our careers and show each and every one of her opponents up as laughingstocks? Trust me Frank, I am not taking you or Adam or Julian lightly. Sure I may sit here and joke. But in all seriousness I am counting the hours…no, the minutes until that bell rings. Because once that bell rings, it isn’t a battle of the sexes or a battle of tit for tat. It is going to be an all out fight for the IPW gold.”

Vixen’s humour flees as seriousness crosses her face once again, this time not sympathetic but real angered seriousness.

“I am prepared, fully prepared to do what I need to in this match…” The camera pulls back to find Vixen sitting on the top of a ladder. “This is going to be my Everest and just you wait. Once I reach the pinnacle, I am going to take that title belt and I am going to make history. I will climb up that ladder as only one of four, and then I will climb down as the IPW champion.”

With that affirmation, Vixen turns and begins to climb down the ladder as the image fades.
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