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Day Eleven
Topic Started: Feb 15 2009, 02:11 AM (202 Views)
brlysis
Milk-Chan
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
12 Days
Day Eleven


‘HOTSTUFF’ STEVIE PORTER


"Your undefeated Champion of Christmas accepts his gold medal for all of
you ..."

[We cut to the famous mug of the one and only - "Hot Stuff" Stevie Porter.
The wrestling icon is in an obvious chipper mood today. Chewing on a piece
of gum with a giant smile on his face he leans back with a glass of scotch
and ice.]

"What do we have here? After months of going out there and defeating
superstar after superstar ... After exciting thousands of fans and making
headlines in the wrestling world. Stevie Porter has not only remained
undefeated but he now finds himself moments away from capturing a gold
medal."

[Undefeated? Someone needs to remind him about Allison DeTorre.]

"I would like to first dedicate my performance to my stalker Allison
DeTorre. I admit I wasn't sure after our date but after a night on the
town it didn't take long to notice that Adam's apple. Now I don't know
what DeTorre is trying to pull but ol' Stevie isn't a switch hitter if you
catch my drift!"

[Give me a break!]

"Now moving onto more pleasant thoughts. I bring my undefeated record to
this main event against three men. Clyde Kennedy and Matt Payne I've tried
sitting back and watching your matches. You both were in the "B" league in
this whole event. The truth is you both fed off lower tier talents. While
I brought highlights and creditability to this tournament you two almost
ruined it by acting like a massive dose of Nyquil to all these loyal paying
fans."

[Stevie nods.]

"So forgive me if I didn't jump for joy when I checked my fax machine and
found out I was booked up against Clyde "Sleeping Pill" Kennedy and Matt
"Snooze Fest" Payne. Kennedy you have a better chance of proving Allison
DeTorre has always been a woman then winning this match. Matt Payne at
least your name does hold true. It is painful to watch you wrestle. I'd
rather sit through a root canal then watch you attempt to wrestle."

[Stevie takes a drink of scotch to calm himself down.]

"Thankfully I do have one warrior. One worthy competitor. The mighty
Cyclops! Cyclops you and I we come from a league of our own. While we
have brought cheers of joy to this tournament our opponents have brought
yawns of boredom. You and I have battled it out before. You proved
yourself to me. While I had to _carry_ Cobra ... While I had to _carry_
Mark Adams Jr ... While I had to unpleasant opportunity to take out that
he-she ... You on the other hand actually showed up ready to fight. You
came ready to wrestle. I can respect that and I look forward to playing
the dance card one more night as you and I _carry_ these two stiffs to a
championship material match."

[Porter nods in total agreement.]

"This match will be my Mona Lisa ... Ol' Stevie has a great task at hand.
No it's not winning this match. It's only a matter of time before I do
that. It's turning chicken [bleeps] like Payne and Kennedy into chicken
salad. Some how ... Some way I will rise to the occasion like I always do.
The trumpets will blare and your Champion of Christmas will ride in like
the white knight he is and _save_ this event."

[Okay it's getting deep in here.]

"The Cyclops and I will rise to the occasion. Inside the center of the
ring with the spotlights shining down upon us we will eclipse to the final
moment of the match. With the fans on the edge of their seats biting their
nails. The evil giant of a monster and their white knight ..."

[Porter stares off into the sky as if he is envisioning it.]

"We have been here before. Cyclops and I ... Again I will lift him high in
the air showing my near super human strength. I will plant Cyclops in the
center of the ring as Matt Payne and Clyde Kennedy look on with awe and I
will for one final time give _everyone_

The

Highlight

of

Their

Career!"

[With that the camera zooms in on a satisfied Stevie Porter and we fade.]


.
.
.
.
.
CLYDE KENNEDY


(Backstage at the 12 Days tournament, a private locker room. Sitting on a stark, wooden bench is “The Policy” Clyde Kennedy. Sitting straight up, his eyes are closed, lost in visualizing the upcoming match, the finale of the tournament. He is outfitted in his wrestling gear: a black singlet and matching boots. His short black hair and goatee are pristine; no doubt the result of a $400 haircut. He breathes in, then out. In. Out.)

(There is a knock at the door. Kennedy doesn’t react, breathing. Visualizing. In. Out. The door cracks open and Cassandra Whitmore, Kennedy’s personal assistant, peaks in. Seeing her boss in his pre-match trance, she tip toes in, her stylish heels hovering precariously above the concrete. Miss Whitmore sits down in a black leather chair, crossing her legs. Dressed in a black pencil skirt, a blue blouse, and horn-rimmed glasses, her blond hair falls over her shoulders. She pulls out a clipboard from her Prada bag, and begins taking notes.)

Whitmore: Ready?

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: First, I will walk to the ring. The fans will boo me, as they always have, but it will not affect me. It never has. I will enter the ring and take in my opponents.

Whitmore: “Hotstuff” Stevie Porter.

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: He will try to cheat, do anything to win. He does not have my honor or my integrity. He recently appeared in TSWF, aiming for Mark Adams, Jr. “The Legacy.” Porter targeted Adams because he is easy to conquer. Easy to defeat. An embarrassment to his bloodline. Porter avoided the star of TSWF, its diamond in the rough. Picked on a lesser man to boost his ego.

Whitmore: Who is the diamond in the rough?

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: I am. Clyde Kennedy, “The Policy.” Stevie Porter believes that he can roll me up, hook the tights, cheat to defeat me. But that won’t happen. Not on the final night of the tournament. My tournament. The tournament that announces Clyde Kennedy’s arrival to the top of the wrestling world, marking my ascendency to the upper echelon. Who else?

Whitmore: Cyclops.

(Kennedy stifles a chuckle, a large smile on his face.)

Kennedy: I do not fear a gigantic freak. Size is not an immediate benefit. That does not make him better than me. His one eye should be focused on me during the match, because I will lift him up in my finisher, the most devastating version of the torture rack the world has ever seen, much more powerful and painful than his disgraceful move. Ask Roman Anderson. “Heartless” Jakob Volga. Angel Demente. Ask them about Kennedy’s Contraption. Ask them how much it hurts, how they cried out in pain and if they did not tap, if I did not stop, then they would be in a wheelchair to the end of their days.

Whitmore: Cyclops has three victories.

Kennedy: Those weren’t matches. Sideshow attractions, maybe. A circus act, probably. You can’t win a sideshow. There isn’t a victory at the circus. His size betrays his utter uselessness, and I will return him to his former career, scaring children and adults who make the mistake of paying a quarter to see his disfigured face. One that will be more disfigured after he steps in the ring with me.

Whitmore: You know who’s left.

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: The loaded boot.

Whitmore: Matt Payne.

Kennedy: As I visualize, go through the match from beginning to end, I keep trying to see Cyclops and Porter. But all I can see is Payne. His loaded boot smashing against my face, causing me to drop my only match of the tournament. Watching him match after match, using that loaded boot to defeat the worst of the worst. I defeated all of his opponents by making them tap out, the true way to acquire victory. He is the one that cheated, the one who brought dishonor to his name.

Whitmore: Did he have any honor to begin with?

Kennedy: Of course not. He talks, and talks, and talks. Never stops talking, cursing, considering himself clever. Considering himself talented because he is capable to put a weight in his boot naked to the untrained observer. He is the perfect competitor in a single elimination tournament: he strikes once, catches his opponent off guard, and gets the cheapened win. But the next time, the next match, his tricks are no longer a secret. I know everything he is capable of, and more importantly, everything that he is incapable of.

(Kennedy suddenly opens his eyes, focusing on Miss Whitmore.)

Kennedy: In a battle for the gold medal, I will not fall to any man. I am Clyde Kennedy.

Whitmore: Yes, you are.

Kennedy: I will put “Hotstuff” Stevie Porter in Kennedy’s Contraption. I will put the Cyclops in Kennedy’s Contraption. And I will beat Matt Payne within an inch of his life, and I will not be struck by his “Lights Out Bitch” disgrace of a finisher. His loaded boot will do no harm to me, and I will slide him over my shoulder, clamp onto his body, and bend his spine across my back. He will tap, because if he doesn’t, I break his body in two.

(Kennedy’s eyes close. In. Out.)

Kennedy: The slim number of people with victories of me is dwarfed by the number who has repeated that feat. The numbers are against Payne. “The Policy” is against Matt Payne. Against Cyclops. Against Stevie Porter.

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: Only one man will walk out of the tournament with the gold medal. I will settle for nothing less.

Whitmore: Who is going to win that medal?

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: I will.

Whitmore: Who?

(In. Out.)

Kennedy: “The Policy” Clyde Kennedy.

(Quick as a cat, Cassandra Whitmore leaps in front of Kennedy and slaps him as hard as she can across the face. In. Out.)

Whitmore: WHO?

(In. Out.)

(Kennedy stands slowly. His eyes open, and it is pure rage. To look into his eyes is to look into the eyes of Death himself.)

Kennedy: Kennedy.

(Cassandra Whitmore smiles as Kennedy walks out the door, towards the match, the end of the tournament. As soon as the door closes, she collapses into the leather chair. Exhausted. And frightened. Fade to black.)
.
.
.
.
.
THE CYCLOPS

[The big man has in front of him on a table a scale. He pulls out a gold bar and places it on the scale.]

Hrrrmmmph.

[He scribbles on a notepad, he scratches his head]

Gold good in bad economy. Keep medal under bed.

Porter, Kennedy and Payne.

Hotstuff, Policy and Dumbass.

Me Cyclops.

Payne is mouth, no substance.

Kennedy is mouth, no substance.

Porter is man who kicked Cyclops in private part.

[Cyclops nods his head as he takes away the gold and the scale]

This come down to Cyclops and Little Stevie.

Cyclops VERY excited.

Cyclops win gold AND get to kick Stevie in his hotstuff.

Will be good Friday night.

[fade]









PROMOS for the OPEN BATTLE ROYAL!!!!!



MARK ADAMS JR

(The scene opens backstage at Day Eleven of the Twelve Days Tournament as "The Legacy" Mark Adams Jr. stands in front of a wall-sized banner advertising the Day Twelve Gold Medal Match between Clyde Kennedy, "Hotstuff" Stevie Porter, Matt Payne, and The Cyclops. Dressed in black jeans and a red Vegas Xtreme t-shirt with his trademark blue steel Escrima sticks in hand, the second generation superstars seems almost contrite as he addresses the fans at home.)

ADAMS: When I signed up to compete in the Twelve Days of Christmas, I did so with the intent of doing honor to my father, my uncle, and my teachers at the Hurricane Academy by being the youngest man to ever take home tournament gold...

And, for that, I apologize.

You see, I made the mistake of believing all the hype that the promoters have created about me. After all, how could a second generation superstar like myself - the legacy of a proud wrestling tradition like the one that produced Mark Adams, Jason Storm, and Amy Vickers - possibly lose in a tournament of this nature?

But lose I did, and, in so doing, I have managed to let down my friends, my family, and my fans.

So what, you may ask, is young Mr. Adams going to do about this?

(Adams pauses to smirks that trademark Adams Smirk™.)

ADAMS: Young Mr. Adams is going to enter the Open Challenge Battle Royal on Friday, February 13th, and he is going to win a title shot against Wild Bill Ian, the newly-crowned VXW 24 Hour Champion, that's what.

And while Friday the 13th is traditionally known as a day of bad luck, for me it will be the turning over of a new leaf, both here in the Twelve Days Tournament and in Vegas Xtreme Wrestling.

Because Mr. Ian, a man who fancies himself to be quiet proficient with a fork, has never...

And I mean ever...

Experienced the level of punishment that a true Escrimador can inflict using _his_ weapons of choice.

And while my skills are still far from being on the same level as the man who trained me and gave me these...

(Adams raises his two Escrima sticks and crosses them into an "x" in front of his chest.)

ADAMS: I can beat a sick f<BLEEP>king redneck with a fork any day.

(And, on that note, WE FADE.)
.
.
.
.
.
MAMMOUTH GENE HOWARD


[Scene opens to a black screen.]

*Mmmm*

[A gravely low male voice speaks up.]

Voice: Wild Bill Ian must be longing for the cold embrace of
the afterlife!

*BOOM*

*FLASH*

[Thunder followed by a flash of lightning briefly illuminate
the darkness but all we see is a MASSIVE shadow across a
wall of a very large looking man.]

Voice: On Day Twelve, of the Twelve Days Tournament, there is
an open challenge battle royal where anyone, any living being
at all, can waltz into a ring and toss out everyone else and
earn a shot at Wild Bill Ian's 24 Hour Championship. Ian must
have a death wish because surely.. SURELY he knew.. One day..
A man like me would show up and answer a challenge such as
this!

*BOOM*

*FLASH*

[Thunder again! Lightning again! And once more.. the massive
imposing shadow across the wall!]

Voice: A man like me who will gladly grab every other person
in that ring regardless if they be man or woman.. Young or
old.. Adult or child... And toss them over the ropes and into
the abyss of defeat. A defeat that will swallow their souls
and leave empty husks for the wind to whistle through! A man
like me who is willing to do anything to answer a challenge
like this just so he can grab VXW's 24 Hour Championship
and send Wild Bill Ian to shuffle off this mortal coil!

*BOOM*

*FLASH*

[Thunder! Lightning! Scary Massive Behemoth Shadow!]

Voice: Some say I'm not really a man. They say I be a myth.
A legend. A great unGodly pestilence that breaks opponents
into pieces and throws their bones into the fire. Tall tales
I say. Everyone with their ridiculous.. Silly.. TALL tales!
Always Tall tales. No.. I'm not a myth. I'm not a legend.
I'm not an unGodly pestilence. I am very much a man. I am
very real and I am walking this Earth.. Pounding the dirt
to make my way to Day Twelve just so I can point the barrell
of my weapons.. My hands.. And rip from the living the
opportunity to rip a belt off of a man I have never met but
will dig a six foot hole for all the same.

*BOOM*

*FLASH*

*WOOF*

[Thunder! Lighting! Scary Massive Shadow now with a BEASTLY
Shadow with jagged fanged mouth!]

Voice: Quiet boy! I will be sure to toss the remains of
all who stand in that ring for the battle royal into your
waiting mouth! Your belly, my war mongrel pet, will be FULL
of the shattered dreams and souls of men and women who only
desired an opportunity to have a chance to put an Axe between
the eyes of Wild Bill Ian and lay him into the cold grave
of dirt that awaits him!

*SCRAPE*

Voice: My pet.. He's.. EAGER to be fed.. Just as I am eager
to feed him your carcasses as I wrench the very life from
all of you to feed him! Yes I am a man, a man who will break
and demolish and destroy everyone as I toss them over the ropes
into the waiting maw of my war mongrel and then I will walk
over to Wild Bill Ian and split his body in two and pour his
life onto the pavement and raise VXW's 24 Hour Championship
belt over my head and look up the sky and proclaim my victory!

*BOOM*

*FLASH*

[Thunder! Lightning! Scary Massive Shadows!]

Voice: Beware the striking of the gong and the name that
is sure to set all lips to quivering as then you'll know..
The end is coming for you. All of you. Beware the name of..
Mammoth Gene Howard!

*WOOF*

[Scene fades without so much as a single glimpse of the
speaker.]
.
.
.
.
.
ROMAN ANDERSON

[The man who should have won the Gold Medal stands in front of the VXW banner]

Lets see. On one hand is the Gold Medal of the tournament and on the other is a chance to defeat Wild Bill Ian for the VXW 24 Hour Title.

Hmmm. I’ll take the title thanks.

[Anderson shrugs]

Don’t get me wrong, a gold medal is nice but this is wrestling. A title is much more than a medal.

So whoever wins the gold, Payne or Porter or Kennedy or that giant freak, congrats.

But the man who is on notice is Wild Bill Ian.

Billy Boy, I am winning the battle royal and then I am taking your title and becoming KING of the VXW.

[fade]
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texanspaniard
Member Avatar
The Luther Burger
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Fun flash show! Cyclops is AWESOME! Stevie Porter was great, Kennedy was strong, too bad Payne couldn't participate but I understand that totally! Looking forward to Day 12!

Top 3 Favorite Promos:
00-The Cyclops [So awesome he's above 1!]
01-Stevie Porter
02-Clyde Kennedy
03-Mark Adams Jr
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