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| RAMPAGE BLOODY RAMPAGE HOUR TWO; Abandon all hope... | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 10 2010, 06:12 PM (625 Views) | |
| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 06:12 PM Post #1 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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[Moe Owens is standing backstage, doing his best to contain his ebullience under a failing lid of stoic professionalism.] MO: Ladies and gentlemen, we witnessed, just a few minutes ago, the return of Sylhouette to the UWF. In a surprising turn of events, she intervened to save her friend Corvette from the unwarranted assault of Dalbello Rage and Sierra Browne! And... well... I've been scouring the backstage areas in search of the two former gymnasts. And... uh... [He nervously loosens his necktie.] MO: I didn't... find them. Instead, the Guard... intercepted me and... performed a cavit... err... in depth search of my person. It's conjecture at this point, but it could be that the women can no longer be found on the prem... [Spotting something behind the camera, Moe's eyes suddenly widen and he bolts in that direction, giving the cameraman a hard time in trying to follow.] MO: Sylhouette! Sylhouette!! [Running up a corridor, Moe spotted her. She was interrupted in the midst of opening and stepping through a door way, but now, Sylhouette turns to smile at Moe. As the door closes shut, we get a glimpse of those on the other side: Brad Collins protectively overbearing his client with ice packs as an annoyed Corvette bats him away, as if to say she's alright.] MO: Sylhouette! -gasp!- Syl... -wheeze!- ...ouette! [Moe caught up, and now, finally standing next to the French girl herself, he's too winded to ask anything.] Syl: Hi, Moe. [He wheezes as Sylhouette reassuringly smiles.] Syl: Don't worry, she'll be alright. She's in good hands. Il y a eu plus de peur que de mal. MO: -gasp!- Syl: I don't think she's ready to talk to you yet, though. MO: I... -wheeze- Syl: Hmm? MO: ... wanted... [Under the strain, Moe practically collapses, and he bends forward, resting both hands on his knees to try and finally catch his breath. He needs to renew that gym membership, pronto. Sylhouette grins as he finally rises again, once again able to enunciate complete sentences.] MO: I also wanted to... [There's a... strange look in the green eyes behind the mask, an undefinable twinkle. she bites her lip... then wraps her arms around Moe in a warm embrace.] MO: ... I... [Hugging Moe, she closes her eyes, sighs, and smiles.] MO: ... Umm... [Exactly the kind of affectuous gesture that make Moe happily ill at ease.] MO: ... wanted... Syl: Tu m'as manqué, Moe. MO: ... Err... Syl: I missed you, Moe. [Moe doesn't know what to do and, pathetically enough, starts to awkwardly pat Sylhouette's head with his free hand.] MO: It's... it's... Syl: I missed everyone so much... [She raises her head to add a nuance.] Syl: Well, _almost_ everyone. MO: I just wanted to... Syl: Remember the time I gave you fake French pick-up lines? MO: Yeah... Syl: I'm sorry I played that prank on you. MO: Oh, err... you know, you can... [Sylhouette breaks her embrace and resolutely nods.] Syl: But I'm back, now. That's all that matters. I'll see you soon, right? Take care! [As fast as she appeared to stop the Misfits, Sylhouette vanishes behind the nearby door, leaving Moe alone.] MO: You can... play pranks on me anytime... [Waking up from his daze, Moe's eyes dart back towards the camera.] MO: I mean... She's back, folks! Yes, she's back. [Moe smiles as he tries to straighten his shirt and the image fades...] ________ __ __ ____ | ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ _____ _____ \ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___| \ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_ \ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _| \_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______ \_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\ ______ \_____/ | _ | __ ____ ____ _____ _ _ | |/ / / / / _ \ / _ \\ \ / \ / \ | _ \ / / / / / // / / // /\ \\ \/ / | |/ // /___/ /_/ // /_/ // /_/ / \ / |____//_____/\____/ \____//______/ | | ________ __ __ ____ | / | ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ |/____ _____ \ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___| \ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_ \ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _| \_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______ \_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\ \_____/ 02-13-10 Hour Two [Dissolve through the graphics again to the Nassau Coliseum, where the sounds of "Reach Out" by Hilary Duff are just dying down over the mixed crowd noise. A pan across the front rows of the crowd shows off some more of the fans' homemade signs, and one female wearing a luchador themed mask with a distinct donkey look to it waves at the camera.] DR: Fans, we're back and during the break Brianna Landis come to the ring and asked for a microphone. You might remember that she was a casualty in the brawl last week between Juan Vasquez and Alexander Epstein, and she actually suffered a slight concussion. SS: And now she is coming out for an apology? Are you kidding me? AM: There's been wild rumors about her coming to call out Juan Vasquez, but even she isn't that stupid. And word is, she's not coming alone. SS: If she's calling out Juan, she better be bringing an armed police officer. Or a Russian. AM: A Russian? SS: They're unstoppable. DR: Go to ringside, please. [Cut to Brianna Landis standing in the ring, holding a microphone. She has a noticeable lump on the side of her head, but looks to be in good spirits. She is dressed down, in jeans and a t-shirt, and has a pensive, worried look on her face.] BL: As you all saw on the previous Rampage, I happened to get caught up in the backstage fight between Juan Vasquez and Alexander Epstein. And it's true, I suffered a mild concussion from it, and spent a few days in bed recovering. I've had a concussion before, and I'm sure I'll get one again, so I was just going to let it go and continue on. AM: I think the damage is worse than she's letting on. I don't want to choke her... [Brianna looks around at the crowd, who aren't sure where this is going.] BL: The last thing I wanted was some kind of legal case against Kyle Lee, the UWF, MBC and whoever else has their name on this promotion. I just wanted to move on... but someone didn't. My husband didn't want to move on. [The crowd murmurs restlessly, while some give a questioning "Huh?"] AM: SHE'S MARRIED?! SS: Didn't see that coming. BL: He knows how dangerous the wrestling business can be, and I tried to tell him that it was just a meaningless errant punch, but he wasn't buying it. All medical bills were paid for by... whoever, Kyle Lee, I guess, it's not like they were callous about it. But's he's insistent that something be done, that I take legal action or file some sort of claim. And he's the kind of guy that lets his temper take over when it shouldn't. But I asked that he let me take care of it, I asked that he respect me enough as a woman to handle my own business... and he relented. [Brianna widens her eyes and takes a deep breath, as if she can't believe she's doing what she's doing.] BL: So I'm here to ask Juan Vasquez to come down here, so we can settle this nonsense face to face. [The crowd groans at Brianna's request, as the announce team does much the same.] DR: Oh no, no no no no no. Nothing good can come from this. AM: Someone needs to go get her and drag her out of there. ["Head Like a Hole" by AFI begins to play, as instead of Juan Vasquez they get his newest associate, Gavin Cassel. Cassel is a youthful looking man with stringy blonde hair, and a sneer that can only be attached to a person whose two major attributes are contempt and wrecklessness. He slides into the ring, wearing ripped up jeans and a sleeveles black t- shirt with the Arizona State Sun Devil on it. He gets a microphone and grins at Brianna, rubbing his hands together.] DR: Fans, to give you a little background on this individual, he's the only person on Earth who would ever claim or brag to be trained by Luke Kinsey, and since he's been a professional he's taken Kinsey's legacy of obnoxiousness and irreverent, uncouth behavior to another level. It's my understanding that he would have debuted in the UWF earlier, but couldn't get out from under house arrest. SS: Rumors, Dave, all rumors! [Gavin walks toward Brianna, who backs away. Gavin calmly takes two more steps toward her, and then reaches out to pat her head.] GC: Seems like we're a little busy back there, tootse, so Juan sent me out here to shut you up. Anything you need to say to him, you can say to me. [He goes to pat her head once more, and Brianna shifts underneath his arm and backpedals towards the far ropes, giving herself some space.] BL: Please, Gavin, I don't think you're the person for this. Please go back and tell Juan he needs to come out here. [Cassel is taken aback by Brianna's brush off, and is immediately indignant.] GC: What, I'm not good enough for you? You can't settle this with me? BL: You weren't involved, Gavin, you weren't there! It doesn't make sense for you to be involved now! Now please go ask Juan to come out, I don't want my husband involved. [Cassel, who was facing the crowd, snaps his head around at the mention.] GC: You know, bitch, you've mentioned this husband of yours an awful lot, like he's someone to fear. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that whatever meth fiending, drug addicted, emo punk bitch that decided to get hitched to your nasty ass probably isn't a threat to me, or anyone else in this arena. So I'm gonna call your bluff- BL: Don't do that. GC: -and tell you that if you want this s[BLEEP!] settled with you and Juan, you better start talkin' _now_ because the next time- [With this, Gavin grabs her by the back of her blonde hair and bends her back so he can look right at her, speaking through gritted teeth.] GC: - the next time you get knocked the f[BLEEP!] out, it won't be an accident. [Brianna, rightly scared, can only answer in whimpers.] BL: Gavin, please. just get Juan. Don't get involved. GC: I'm involved now, whore, I'm all the way- BL: Gavin stop, you're hurting me, please- GC: LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU BITCH! [Gavin raises his hand, not sure what's going to happen next, but gets no chance to figure it out as he's driven to the mat, both literally and figuratively, by a blur who sprints into the ring and tackles him, wailing away at him with fists... and by six little words...] #I JUST SAID UP YOURS BABY!# DR: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! [The music of White Zombie is barely audible over the crowd, as they are whipped into a frenzy by the scene in front of their eyes: Brianna Landis, sitting in a corner and watching as Gavin Cassel is being pummeled not three feet before her by a rage filled blur, who rifles right hands into the forehead of Cassel and then grabs him by the head, SLAMMING Gavin's cranium into the mat again and again and again and again, not even stopping to take a deep breath before picking him up and throwing him into the corner, grabbing the tag team rope and wrapping it around Gavin's throat, then booting Gavin in the gut and using the tag rope as a pully to squeeze the life out of the young Cassel.] SS: LUKE KINSEY! KINSEY IS BACK IN THE UWF! DR: And he's on the verge of putting Cassel out permanently! We need some help down here! What the hell is going on?!?! AM: He's defending Brianna Landis, you idiots, that's what's going on! _HE_ is who she was talking about! HE'S HER HUSBAND! [Security comes streaming into the ring as an enraged Kinsey whips his shirt off and proceeds to lace in right hand after right hand into the side of Cassel's face, then rearing back and burying a fist right into Gavin's throat, making Gavin explode in coughs as he grabs for his throat. One of the security guards tries to pull Luke off, and gets laid out with a punch, and then another. Kinsey leaps back into the corner, grabs Cassel and hurls him to the mat, then dives on him as security tries to pull him off.] DR: They need to get Cassel out of there, he needs medical attention! AM: Bull! He wants to act like a tough guy, he gets what he deserves! They should let 'em go! SS: That's his only student, that's his protege! Cassel is Kinsey's successor! AM: BRIANNA IS HIS WIFE! THERE'S SOME LINES YOU DON'T CROSS! DR: SOMEONE MARRIED BRIANNA! [As Luke is pulled away, he eases up for a second and lets them help Gavin to his feet. As the security guards call for medical back up, Kinsey deftly pulls his belt off and...] "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" [...whips his former student with it, the belt buckle bloodying Cassel's face and tearing at his skin. Luke charges at his protege and knocks him out of the ring, which actually helps the medics, who load Gavin onto a stretcher as quickly as they can and cart him off. Luke rages in the ring, stomping around like a bull as the fans chant at him, and Brianna (Kinsey?) tries to calm him down.] "WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK!" "WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK!" "WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK!" "WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK! WEL-COME BACK!" [Kinsey turns around and engulfs Brianna in an emotional hug, as David Rogers tries to make sense of it all.] DR: I cannot believe what has gone down here, folks, I never expected this. When the press release about Brianna came out last week, no one on Earth expected THIS to happen! Luke Kinsey has returned, he's stunned all of us, and has decimated Gavin Cassel because he put his hands on Brianna Landis -- Kinsey's wife! This is a shock. SS: Shock isn't the word, Rogers, it's -- SOMEONE MARRIED BRIANNA! AM: Well think about this, Brianna said all along that she wanted to settle things with Juan Vasquez before her husband got involved... and now we know who her husband is! Juan Vasquez's best friend, the person whose honor Vasquez has been fighting for! DR: Good Lord, what a personal situation this has turned into in a short period of time. LK: THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS! [That'd be Kinsey, who has commandeered a mic. He grunts more than speaks, but takes a second to calm himself down, with Brianna's help.] LK: That's what happens when you f[BLEEP!] with a man's family, Gavin. I taught you... I gave you everything, man. When you were on the street, I took you in. I made calls for you, I made connections for you... and I could have sworn that I told you a thousand times to not mess with someone's family unless you could handle it. [Kinsey leans over the top rope toward the ramp.] LK: You damn sure can't handle what happens when you cross mine, little man. That's your last lesson, Gav. Think about it tonight... if you're still conscious. [Luke paces from side to side, wiping a streak of blood from his face.] LK: I didn't want this. I never wanted this to happen. I was happy being away... I was normal. I was a human being again. And then she accidentally ends up backstage on a business trip and ends up getting punched in the head? Getting knocked out? I did _not_ want to come out here, but it looks like I didn't have a choice. If she isn't important enough to come out here like a man, then maybe I am. And if you don't come out here, Juan, then as God is my witness I will come back there and find you. I'll tear the whole dressing room apart if I have to. Now get out here. [We don't have to wait long, as a now familiar six words are heard over the PA system, drawing an almost Pavalonian-response of immediate hate.] # It's dark... and hell is hot # [HUGE HEEL POP!] DR: This probably wasn't the type of reunion Juan Vasquez was expecting, but here he is, face-to-face with the man that he's spent a year trying to avenge! Luke Kinsey and Juan Vasquez have a history as storied as any in all of wrestling. Vasquez himself just spent the last year of his life trying to end Alex Epstein's career in a twisted attempt at vengeance for Kinsey. SS: Trying? He broke the man's leg! AM: There's no way this can end well. There's just no way. Whether the two reconcile or whether they have a falling out, either outcome is going to be ugly. ["Ain't no Sunshine" by DMX begins to play as the crowd becomes unglued, as they see the most despicable man in all the UWF, Juan Vasquez step through the entranceway flanked by Edwin Lopez. For a man finally coming face-to-face with the friend that he'd fought so hard for, Vasquez is oddly expressionless. Lopez makes a move towards the ring, but Juan stops him, indicating to him that he's got everything under control. Vasquez makes his way down to the ring, ignoring the deafening amounts of hatred being showered on him, his eyes focused directly on an angered Kinsey. Stepping through the ropes, Vasquez boldly strides right up to his long- time friend, seemingly unfazed by the beating he just administered to Gavin Cassel. When he steps through the ropes, he's immediately greeted by a less than admirable chant from the crowd...] "ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE!" "ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE!" "ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE!" "ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE! ASS-HOOOLE!" [Vasquez just smirks, amused by the crowd's response. He turns to Kinsey.] JV: Welcome back, Luke. [The crowd shouts for blood. Vasquez doesn't seem to be too worried. In fact, he's smiling...it's always nice to see an old friend again.] JV: I told him to treat the little lady with some respect, but... you know how Gavin is. [A shrug.] JV: Seriously though, you didn't have to air the dirty laundry out in public, amigo. Facebook, Twitter, Myspace, Blackberry, text messaging...I know if you had something to say to me, you knew how to get in contact with your old friend, Juan. But...I understand why you'd be so angry about this. [Juan looks over Kinsey's shoulder and waves at Brianna. Meanwhile, Luke just stares a hole through Juan, not looking happy at all.] JV: And you're right, Luke...she *isn't* important to me. But she obviously means a lot to you, man...so if I've offended you with my actions, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get her involved in any of this. [Strangely enough, Juan actually seems sincere with this apology. Kinsey meanwhile, remains silent, visibly annoying Vasquez.] JV: Come on, what's with the silent treatment, Luke? We're friends, right? I know you had something to say to me when you called me out here. You didn't beat your only student half to death just to get an apology outta' me, so if you got something to say, then go ahead and say it! [As the old saying goes...actions speak louder than words... *SMMAAAAAACK!!!* ...as Luke Kinsey floors Juan Vasquez with a haymaker!] DR: Kinsey just punched him! Luke Kinsey might've broken Juan Vasquez's jaw with that one! AM: You don't mess with family! Hit him again, Luke! If you get rid of this jerk, you'll be a hero for life in the UWF! [The crowd absolutely explodes as the blow connects, sending Vasquez right to the mat. Kinsey doesn't make another move however, as Juan slowly gets back to his feet, rubbing his jaw. Surprisingly enough, Juan doesn't even seem angry about it, instead he's...laughing?] JV: Oh God... [He bends over and holds his jaw in pain, but shakes it off.] JV: Okay...okay...maybe I deserved that. Oh man... [Moving his jaw around to make sure nothing's broken, Juan finally stands straight up, motioning for Edwin to stay away from the ring.] JV: So, are you feeling better now? Did you get it outta' your system? I mean, s[bleep] man, you actually hit me! [Juan wipes some blood trickling from the side of his mouth. Meanwhile, Luke seems to have calmed down...a little.] JV: God, who knew you were willing to take it this far...and for a woman. Oh man... [He laughs.] JV: ...I always knew that bitch was gonna' ruin your life. [HUGE HEEL POP! Kinsey stops his seething and look right at his best friend, eyebrows raised.] LK: Excuse me? [Juan, ever smirking, looks right back at Kinsey.] JV: You heard me. That bitch ruined your -- [And that's as far as Vasquez gets, due to Kinsey tackling him and trying to kill him. The former Life of the Party members roll on the ground exchanging punches as the crowd erupts. Kinsey finds his way on top of Vasquez, wearing him out with right hands until Edwin Lopez grabs him around the waist. Vasquez rolls out of the ring and hits the floor at a dead sprint, while Kinsey gets out of Lopez's grasp and hits him square in the face... to no effect.] "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!" SS: Uh oh, that didn't work. Plan B! [Edwin just looks at his one time pal with detached disdain, then calmly fixes his collar and grabs Luke around the throat with one hand, then lifts him up as if he were nothing... ...and then gets kicked right in the nuts by Kinsey! HUGE POP! Even Edwin feels that, and as he bends over to cup his jewels he finds himself being kicked right in the chops, courtesy of a Luke Kinsey superkick. Edwin topples over the ropes, to the floor and the crowd comes unglued as Kinsey, the former cool, calculating and confident World champ, nearly deadleaps over the ropes to get after him.] DR: I've never seen Kinsey like this, I don't think I've seen anything like this period! Kinsey's lost it, he's plum lost his mind! AM: Juan Vasquez just _ran_ from the ring, and he was followed by his own bodyguard. And that was minutes after Gavin Cassel, the newest member of Vasquez's little inner circle, was stretchered out. SS: And the people are loving Kinsey like he just got back from the war. Did you ever think you'd see the day? DR: Strange times folks, that's all you can say in moments like this. [The camera fades away for a moment, to catch a glimpse of the seething, heavy breathing Kinsey looking at the crowd, who for the first time in the history of ever are cheering their lungs out for him. He snaps out of it and grabs the microphone again, looks at Brianna and then addresses the entrance ramp.] LK: Before I say anything else, let me make one thing perfectly clear: I don't care that we came up together, I don't care that we took over the world together. I don't care about RCW or EMWC or GLCW or whatever else, I don't care about Ego MAX or the LotP. You put hands on my wife, you called her a bitch on national TV. Juan Vasquez, you just signed your death warrant. [The crowd pops as Kinsey paces.] LK: I'll find you. In an alley, in a bar, in a gym. I'll hunt you down somewhere, and it might not be in this ring, but I'll find you mother[BLEEP!]er and I'll put your ass out of commission. You better live like there's no tomorrow, because your days are numbered. So help me God, you're on borrowed time. [Kinsey rubs his head, anguished at the thought of it.] LK: Does Marisol know about this Juan? You were the only people who knew we were married, you were _there_. Does your wife know you punched Brianna in the face? Do your kids know you punched Uncle Luke's wife? Does your family know what a f[BLEEP!]ing scumbag you've turned into? Does your family know that you've lost your focus, that you lost your goddamn mind? Do _YOU_ know? Are you aware of what you've turned into, amigo? Because I know you, man. This isn't you. You let this whole business with avenging me sink you lower than you've ever gone, lower than I've ever gone. And I invented breaking people's legs, brother, I know what low is. [Since last we met, Kinsey's changed a little. He cut his hair shorter and let it go back to it's natural brown, and grew a little stubble, making him look a bit older and more mature.] LK: I let the UWF World title consume me. I needed that thing in the worst way, and I was going to get it, rip, s[BLEEP!] or bust. Any obstacles in my way, I knocked 'em down. Scott Daniels' daughter? Rearranged her face. Jamie Underwood? Ran him from the sport. Becky Byers, Jessica Marshall, used and abused and discarded the next morning. All so I could get what I want. And in the fifth month of my title reign I found myself alone on a goddamn bus, and I realized that I sacrificed my dignity and my pride and my family for a piece of gold. I hadn't seen my kid in months, probably years. No chance to patch it up with his Mom. Everything I had was focused on that world title and I let it beat me, I couldn't control the hole I'd dug myself into. I let it cloud my judgment and make me do things I didn't normally do, including getting tricked by Alex Epstein. I was a beaten, broken, defeated man. Long before I lost my title. And I warned you, Juan, I warned all of you to _not_ do what I did. Don't let it bring you down, don't let that title push you over the edge. Be patient and let it come to you, because you _are_ that damn good. I intentionally stayed away from everything because I needed to clear my head. I needed to reconnect with reality and dig myself out of the hole I put myself into, I needed to take care of _me_. And this is what I come back to. My wife's got a shiner and a concussion, and I've got to kill you for it. All because you didn't listen to me. [Kinsey points at Brianna, deadly serious.] LK: The only decent man left in the damn promotion just had his leg broken, and some spineless little kid paid millions of dollars to make people _think he had cancer_ because he was jealous of me, and he somehow won the World title as a result. [Luke just shakes his head.] LK: Everything that has happened in the UWF, up to and including Brianna getting punched, can somehow be traced back to me. The burden of responsibility, in some strange way, lays with me and I blame myself. I blame _myself_. And I'm sorry for it. To all of you fans, to the people I disrespected. To Scott Daniels and his daughter, Becky Byers, Jessica Marshall. To the UWF and the wrestling world in general, all I can say is that I'm sorry for this entire mess. None of this would have ever happened if I would have been a better champion and a better man. I never wanted it to get this far, but now that it has, I'm the only guy who can fix it. As it is, there's a whole lot of shoveling to do to get out of this mess, and I'm going to take the lead. One by one, day by day, match by match, I'm taking the UWF _back_. And it starts with Juan Vasquez. [Luke looks at the crowd and for the first time lets his face uncurl from it's snarl, and even manages to squeak out a half grin.] LK: Chin up, little soldier. Daddy's back now. And he's gonna make everything all better... ...ain't that a bitch? [Luke simply drops the mic as the crowd roars a thunderous ovation of approval. He holds his hand out for Brianna and pulls her to her feet, then sits on the middle rope to help her out of the ring. The masked fan in the front row pats Luke on his shoulder, and as they both walk to the back, his arm over her shoulder, the crowd actually cheers for Luke Kinsey.] DR: Well this has turned out to be one surprising evening afterall! Sylhouette returns from exile to rescue Corvette from a brutal attack and now Luke Kinsey has returned to the UWF to avenge his wife... that's right, his _WIFE_ Brianna Landis... and the devastating injury she suffered at the hands of Juan Vasquez. AM: I'm absolutely reeling at this! I can't believe we just saw Kinsey and Vasquez at each other's throats, after their history. After Juan just spent the last several months stalking the man who retired Luke! He did horrible things all in the name of revenge _FOR_ Luke Kinsey! SS: I still can't believe someone married Brianna! DR: Long Island is abuzz ladies and gentlemen, we'll be back in a moment! [We're in a room, a wall covered with little TV monitors, relaying images from all over the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum, from the parking lots, to the concession stands and the infamous boiler room. Maybe, just maybe, the washrooms are still a secret place. Seated on a nearby wooden desk and turning his back to those screens is Gamma Ray, tightening his laces and adjusting his elbow pad for his upcoming match. But suddenly, two masked and padded Guards shove a distraught Job Holly through the door and down to the floor. Holly lands awkwardly enough but, in an untypical show of resiliency, gets back to his knees. Before he can stand, however, the Irradiated One disdainfully addresses him.] GR: No need to get up. Groveling is much easier to do on one's knees. [Holly looks up in distress, but doesn't get to speak yet. The masked superhero does.] GR: And begging is what you'll need to do. They tell me you've been making a nuisance of yourself outside, screaming to be given a second chance. Well, here it is. But keep in mind that I'm extremely busy tonight, so keep it brief. [Holly gulps, hesitates then pleads his case with sudden determination.] JH: I... I just wanted to say, sir, that I only did what I was asked. And I didn't fail at a single task I was given. The boss wanted to keep Mr. Kidd out, and I did exactly that. This job is important to me, sir, and I'd like to have it back. GR: Well done. [Gamma Ray sardonically applauds Holly, the eyes beneath his mask remaining cold.] GR: You can rise, son, and heed my words. [Holly gets to his feet, and the Virtuous Vigilante wraps his arm around the man's shoulder, though it feels more like a slithering snake's cruel embrace.] You're right, here. It's good of you to note that I do not tolerate failure and incompetence. JH: That's right, and you shouldn't, either. GR: Quite so. Failure begets failure and inadequacy breeds ineptitude. That is why Kyle Lee's ill-obtained authority cannot continue unopposed. And it's also why you shall never again be in my employ. Because your failure is unforgivable. JH: Wh... What? I didn't fail. I did exactly what the boss asked of me! GR: And who exactly is the boss, may I ask? JH: Kyle L- GR: *I* AM THE BOSS! *I* rule the UWF, do you understand? *I* am the Judge, Jury and Executioner sent to set this wretched place right again! Do you understand? JH: I... I... GR: Your utter and complete failure was in not realizing that Kyle Lee isn't the boss, he's the mother[BLEEP]ing ENEMY! And if you don't see that, you stupid little [BLEEP], then you are the enemy, too. JH: But I wasn't – GAAAH! [Before Holly can say another word, the Irradiated One crushes his nose with a lightning quick elbow.] JH: My nose! I think you broke my nose! [Just as fast, Gamma Ray bends forward and pulls Holly over his shoulders as if to perform a back body drop, but hangs on to the man's legs. With Holly upside down on his back, the Irradiated One sits down, dropping Holly's head straight on the floor. Thankfully, a thin carpet may have softened the Ionizer's blow. Getting back to his feet, Gamma Ray signals to the Guards keeping watch at the room's entrance.] GR: Throw this piece of [BLEEP] back out, I have some serious business to attend to, now. [The men in black riot gear take hold of the unconscious Holly and take him away as the image fades.] AM: You make me sick, Gamma Ray! DR: This evening clearly not going well for Job Holly, first Brett Greene shows up and prevents him from keeping Daniel Kidd out of the building and now it looks like he's the one who's being shown the door. SS: I said he should be tossed out on his ass years ago, but nobody ever listens to me. Except for you, baby. AM: Who the hell are you talking to? SS: Relax Amy, not you. My girl here. [Sam holds up his cell phone] AM: Not that again. Are you going to spend another evening tapping that thing? DR: That's what she said. AM: DAVE! DR: Come on, that one was a gimme. Now let's send things over to the MBC crew for the next contest. Skullhead: And we're back to an all MBC team. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: I'm getting sick of this constant moving. Pinhead: Maybe if you did a little exercise once in a while. Slush: Maybe if you weren't such a bitch! Skullhead: Gentlemen... and Slush... please. Simmer down. We have a match to get to. Slush: I'd rather be texting. Pinhead: I don't see anything stopping you. Slush: Maybe my belt buckle. Damn these pants! Skullhead: Tonight, Nina Grimsson and Tesla St. James will defend their Psycho Driver Tag Team Championship against two sets of challengers. First from the MBC, Luna and Aurora Cordova, known as the New TMK. And from the UWF Taryn Weller and Fiona Cassidy. Pinhead: I take it that Weller and Cassidy aren't exactly pleased to be fighting for MBC gold. They'd rather be going after UWF championships. Slush: Gold is gold, especially when you can recycle it like Ed McMahon's golden toilet. Skullhead: Now to the UWF fans at home scratching their heads as to the reason why the MBC has a title called the Psycho Drivers, well, the belts are named for a legendary North Texas team in 80's and early 90's. In fact, one member of that team just so happens to be the father of Amy Marshall... Pinhead: I... uh... wouldn't bring that up. Kind of a touchy subject. Slush: Going to file that one under "Crap to Irritate the Redhead With." Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Yes, I know it it's a full drawer. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Kyle Lee __|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage THREE-WAY DANCE FOR THE PSYCHO DRIVER TAG TEAM TITLES: Tesla St. James & "Mockingbird" Nina Grimsson[c] versus The New Throbbing Mattress Kittens versus Taryn Weller/Fiona Cassidy ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [Danny Elfman's "The Little Things" began to play over the PA system, prompting the crowd to launch into immediate chants of "TMK! TMK! TMK!" It didn't matter if Luna and Aurora Cordova did the unspeakable, they were loved as Throbbing Mattress Kittens, a fact that Kathryn Elyson was well aware of. Leading her charges to the ring, Kathryn wore her trademark red leather body suit while her students wore attire that hinted at New York Islander hockey. Once the TMK were in the ring, out came the next set of challengers. Taryn Weller and Fiona Cassidy had their own guest with them for the match, Deanna Orlofski. The luchador masked fan hi-fived Fiona, but had a different gesture for a mildly irate Weller who was quickly calmed down by Deanna.] Pinhead: I don't think Cassidy exactly likes Orlofski being there. Skullhead: But Orlofski seems to be coaching Weller up all the way down to the ring. I can't really attest to Orlofski's advice but she did guarantee that Weller and Cassidy would walk away champions. Slush: I have to agree with the Saratoga lady, Orlofski has great shoes. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Maybe you could nest there. I don't know. [With their respective teams in the ring, Orlofski and Elyson exchanged curious looks at one another, trying to measure the other up. They were looks that would launch a thousand bits of fan fiction but before the poetic types could put pen to paper or finger to keyboard, the reigning champs arrived. Tesla St. James and Nina Grimsson both charged the ring, dropping their belts before sliding into the squared circle. Nina made a straight line for the New TMK while Tesla St. James surprised both Cassidy and Weller. Few would expect that this match would quickly escalate into a massive brawl.] Skullhead: The champs set the tone early with aggressive brawling. That's not really St. James' style but it's certainly Nina's. Pinhead: St. James is a planner. And somewhere in her game plan it probably includes catching Waller and Cassidy by surprise. Skullhead: Grimsson meanwhile is not a planner. She sees the New TMK and she's goes after them. Slush: I'm thinking Nina may be turning cannibal. Pinhead: What makes you say that? Slush: If the MBC and UWF roster crashed their plane in the Andes mountains, I have no doubt Cute Demon known as Nina would be the first to eat somebody. Pinhead: That doesn't really answer my question. Slush: Instinct Pinhead. Instinct. [The referee's own instinct was to back off and allow some of the chaos to settle, most notably in regards to Nina Grimsson. She had a long storied history with Kathryn Elyson and her new TMK. Though they had clashed before, one could never unleash all their fury. Amidst the brawling, Nina dumped Luna to the outside and shoulder tackled Aurora into the corner. Meanwhile, Cassidy and Weller managed to turn the tide on St. James, double teaming the redhead, much to the pleasure of Deanna Orlofski on the outside. Weller and Cassidy hit the reigning champ with a double back body drop, allowing Cassidy to go for a quick cover. But St. James kicked out and managed to slap on an armbar. Before St. James could really ratchet it on, Weller made the save with a kick to the side of the head. Hoping to gain some order, the referee sent Weller away while trying to get St. James and Cassidy to the outside of the ring.] Pinhead: Looks like our legal women are Aurora Cordova, Nina Grimsson and Fiona Cassidy. Skullhead: Nina more than happy to take on both women. Slush: I think Kathryn Elyson and Deanna Orlofski are having a staring contest. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Well with those two, I wouldn't be staring at their eyes either. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: You're right. They may not even be staring at each other's eyes. Pinhead: Cassidy with a flying clothesline on Grimsson but Aurora is right on top of her with a reverse chinlock. Nina right back to her feet and a dropkick to take both down. [Action remained aggressive and frequent tags were scattered throughout the match. Despite her devotion to trying to disfigure one of the Cordovas, Nina Grimsson tagged out to Tesla St. James. St. James however had a similar objective, but in more of a "break your damn leg" sort of way. To their credit, Luna and Aurora held their own and mounted an offense that only aggravated their opponents more. Cassidy and Weller meanwhile, struck where they could, being opportunistic at every chance.] Pinhead: Neither Grimsson nor St. James are forgetting that Taryn and Fiona are there. However, the New TMK seem to be doing their best to absorb the focus. Skullhead: All part of Kathryn's strategy I'm sure. Look at her. She's watching Weller as intently as she is her own wrestlers now. Pinhead: Deanna seems to be taking offense to that. Slush: They should have a make out fight. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Yes. Yes it would. Pinhead: The Cordovas are double teaming Weller now. Cassidy trying to come in and make the save but the referee backing her off... Skullhead: St, James tags out to Grimsson and.. DRAGON SPIKE OUT OF NOWHERE ON LUNA CORDOVA... or was that Aurora.. this is the issue with twins. Pinhead: Nina can't capitalize as Weller is right on top of her, probably before Nina can nail her with the Spike as well. [The match came dangerously close to erupting into another six woman brawl but the referee was quick to keep St. James at bay and then Cassidy once again. The one twin to was in severe pain was pulled out of the ring by the other. The unharmed twin did the classic twin switch and joined the fray with Grimsson and Weller. Grimsson dumped Cordova over the top rope but the twin held on and landed onto the apron. Nina tried to go after her but Weller hit a neck breaker that put Nina to the mat. Cordova then catapulted herself over the top rope trying a cross body splash. Grimsson put her knees up, welcoming that twin to a ton of pain.] Skullhead: Luna.. Aurora... whichever Cordova that is... is hurting. Weller going for the pinfall! One.. Two... Grimsson pulls Weller off! Pinhead: Grimsson now going for the pinfall... One.. Elyson reaches in and pulls Grimsson out of the ring. Skullhead: Referee ignorant to the fact it was Elyson. The other Cordova is out there and it looks like it was her. [Kathryn backed away, allowing her student to brawl with Grimsson. Elyson smiled with delight as the other twin bolted over the top rope and came crashing down on top of Nina. Tesla went to assist but was cut off by Cassidy. The twins then rolled a hurting Grimsson into the ring and attempted a pinfall. Taryn Weller however made the save thanks to Orlofski quickly calling her attention to what was happening. Nearly losing his mind, the referee broke up all the action and once again tried to regain order.] Pinhead: This referee is having a hell of a time here. Slush: Isn't this the sort of thing that RUTABEGA is supposed to help with? Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: You're right. I should be the one making the vegetable joke. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Right, especially in a sexually explicit manner. Skullhead: St. James tagging back in. I'm just going to flat out say it's Luna she's fighting with now. Taryn Weller hanging back somewhat, letting the other two work it out. Slush: Pfft, she obviously doesn't know the rules of a good three way. [The presence of both Deanna Orlofski and Kathryn Elyson was making the referee nervous. Orlofski was barking constantly, all the while looking fabulous in her designer shoes. Elyson was slithering around the ring like a snake, which would make Nina Grimsson ever the perpetual mongoose, ready to clamp her jaws around the cold blooded sneak. Meanwhile in the ring, St. James and Weller were in a heated exchange. St. James broke out of everything Weller came at her with and out of nowhere, Tesla executed a Gone to Texas. However, before St. James could cover, both Cordova Twins struck St. James with a double spinning heel kick. Nina had enough and went to go after them, but Elyson yanked Grimsson off the apron before she could do anything.] Pinhead: Nina and Elyson brawling on the outside while the Cordovas make the cover on St. James. Skullhead: Weller and Cassidy pull them both off and now those four are brawling! Pinhead: Cassidy dumps Luna... or Aurora... whoever... over the top rope but Fiona is jumped by St. James. Slush: Jump those bones! JUMP THOSE BONES! Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Your momma! Pinhead: And there goes the other Cordova Twin! Skullhead: St. James trying to hit Cassidy with a Gone to Texas... WELLER WITH A CHICK FIT! Pinhead: Devastating move! Weller with the cover and Cassidy is keeping the Kittens at bay! One... Two... Nina Grimsson slides back into the ring to break it up! Skullhead: But it's too late! [Before Grimsson could break it up, the third count was made, making Weller and Cassidy the new Psycho Driver Tag Champs. Orlofski wisely pulled Fiona and Taryn out of the ring and pushed them up the ramp. The referee had to play catch up in order to give them their belts. Meanwhile, the New TMK slipped into the ring to try and get some cheap shots on St. James and Grimsson.] DH: The winners of this match by pinfall and NEEEEEWWW MBC Psycho Driver Tag Team Champions... TARYN WELLER AND FIONA CASSIDY! Skullhead: We have new champions... well the UWF has new champions. Pinhead: A definite blow to the MBC side of the roster. Skullhead: Nina Grimsson has a chair! She's going after The Kittens and Elyson! Pinhead: All three are escaping into the crowd. I'd dare say they're just as happy seeing Grimsson and St. James lose their belts if they can't win gold themselves. Skullhead: I wouldn't be happy either quite frankly. Slush: Let's see if she cannibalizes anyone out of anger! The Cute Demon craves the flesh of humans! Pinhead: How about we move to another segment? Without the violence. Skullhead: But more sex. Pinhead: ... Slush: ... Tinkle: ... Skullhead: You're going to apologize after you see what the segment is. [Pause.] Skullhead: [MEEP]holes. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 06:14 PM Post #2 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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VO: SWEDEN, where caged passions ignite in carnal confinement and explode into violence. Hidden behind walls of concrete desire, women who live to hurt and maim are reprogrammed... into love slaves! [Really? Hmmm... Odds are guys could rally behind that idea...] EE: Wait? What are we doing, now? [Eveline Eriksen is still a prisoner of that nightmarish and illicit women's prison hidden in the depth of the Swedish embassy, and, luckily, is still forced to wear only white underwear that's clearly a few sizes too small. Beside her... and above her... is that seven foot freak now known as Lilly. Seems she follows the Viking Vixen everywhere, now. At least, she can answer her questions...] EE: Why are we forming a line to that door, over there? Lilly: Ah, yeah... well, see, to turn a profit, every few months this place sells some of the prisoners as slaves to the highest bidder. That's how they make vacancies for new inmates. EE: What? I don't want to be a slave! [The door opens and two inmates step through before it closes again.] Lilly: Oh, don't worry. I never get sold. They only like the pretty girls. No one has ever placed a bid on a freak like me... EE: I wasn't worried about you, idiot! Of course nobody would spend a kroner on you! I'm worried about ME! Lilly: Oh... right... [Again, the door opens, and the line leading to it shrinks.] EE: This can't be happening... Lilly: Maybe if you make ugly faces? EE: Look at my flawless features, støgging, ugly is impossible! [That's true for sure. With Eveline, there's only hot, hotter and hottest.] EE: All of this can't be possible. Am I stuck in some sort of bad- Warden: MOVE! Lilly: EEEEE! [Out of nowhere, the semi-hot, ambiguously lesbian dominatrix Warden and her prison guards appear.] Lilly: You startled me, warden! Warden: Zere vill be no holding up of ze line! EE: Listen, I'm about to be sold off as your highest grossing slave of all time, so be quiet, already. Warden: Ha. Ha. Ha. You shall learn respect yet, yah? EE: Hee! Not from you! [Instantly, a billy club arcs through the air to smack Eveline in the back, and she winces in obvious pain.] Lilly: Hey! Be nice to my friend! [Just as quickly, the guards club Lilly as well. Except they reach up to hit her on the head, probably thinking it wouldn't make the merchandise any worse...] Lilly: Ow!! Warden: I sink you vill not be sold yet, Prisoner Evileen Eriksson. I sink you vant to stay anozer monss, yah? Vee shall pair you up viss ze freaky girl! Ha. Ha. Ha. Lilly: Who, me? Warden: Yah, you, Prisoner Leeli Fon Durshley! Lilly: [In a deceptively small voice] It's Fawne-Dorsey... Warden: Now, go look pretty before ze cliyants! [The guards forcefully shove the pair of women through the door, and they stumble upon a stage that looks like belongs to an alternate universe Sotheby's, surrounded by prison guards. Behind a small and classically varnished pulpit, a sharply dressed host addresses his dimly lit, anonymous audience.] Auctioneer: Next on the block, the _lovely_ pair of *Eveline* and *Lilly*... the Beauty and the Beast, ready to make your... freakiest fantasies become reality! EE: Nei. Auctioneer: Oh, yes! Your seediest dreams can come true with a simple starting bid of 100,000 Swedish kroner! EE: NEI! There will be no fantasies coming true, don't believe this Swedish liar! Auctioneer: 100,000 kroner... only 100,000 kroner! EE: NEI! NEI! NEI, Jævla Svenske!! Auctioneer: The big one can take care of the garden, maybe, or lift some heavy objects! Only 100,000 kroner... YES! Tall man with the glasses, 100,000 kroner to the tall gent with glasses! Do I hear 125,000 kroner? 125,000 kroner anyone? Bidder: Fuh-F-Five huh-hundred th-thousand kuh, kuh, kroner! EE: William? Auctioneer: WOAO! 500,000 kroner, gentlemen! 500,000 to the fat little man in the second row! WH: Y-yes! It's me, Leena! Auctioneer: Do I hear 525,000 kroner? Anyone? EE: Oh, Big Bill... I knew you'd come for me! [Is... is that a tear she's wiping from her cheek?] Auctioneer: 500,000 kroner going once... Lilly: Some... someone wants to buy me? Auctioneer: 500,000 going twice... WH: Ev-ev-Everything will be ah-alright, hunney! Auctioneer: And... SOLD! For 500,000 Swedish kroner! Lilly: Did you hear? Someone bought me! EE: Shut up, støgging, he bought me! [William Houlder excitedly waddles up to Eveline.] WH: Ev-Everyth- EE: What took you so long, Wallet? Huh? This place was horrible! How could you make me stay here this long? How could you! WH: Wh- Buh... I-I just, I just... EE: I'm very disappointed in you, William. Did you actually think I'd be anyone's slave? Is that what you thought? WH: N-n... buh... EE: Well, fat chance of that! Now, take me to a spa, I need to forget this traumatic experience as fast as possible! WH: Oh, uh... OK... I just have to make a check and... [But there's no point in ending that sentence. Eveline has stormed off towards the exit the guards pointed to her while others approached William Houlder in order to obtain payment.] Lilly: So... what happens with me? WH: You? Hmm... Have you ever work as a bodyguard? [Aaaand roll credits. Err... rather... make that fade to black.] DR: I suppose you could call that a happy ending. SS: I don't think that's in Lilly's bodyguard contract. Then again, it was signed in Sweden. And those people are freaks. AM: Right, _they're_ the freaks. Not the Nordic Narcissist. [The scene opens up to a shot of Juan Vasquez, seated in a chair inside his dressing room. He sits hunched over, with his elbows on his knees and his head held low. The room is apparently empty, except for Juan, the chair and the camera. Juan just sits there in silence for a few seconds, staring at the floor, before he begins to speak...] JV: I ain't even gonna' ask you why, Luke. [He doesn't bother looking up.] JV: I already know why. [He's calm so far, but Juan is clearly restraining himself.] JV: Ya' always do this to me for the same goddamn reasons. [Finally, he lifts his head towards the camera. His face doesn't really reveal any sort of strong emotion, but it's pretty clear he's unhappy.] JV: Jealousy, guilt and selfishness. [His eyes narrow just a bit, his calm facade quickly fading away.] JV: It hurt, didn't it? It hurt you to know that while you went out like a bitch against Alex Epstein...I ended that bastard's career and never looked back. It hurt you to realize that while you had friends that were willing to go that far for a worthless scumbag like you...you're such a wreck of a human being, that you wouldn't piss on that brat kid of yours if he was on fire. It hurts you to know that no matter how low I sink into the darkness...I was, am and always will be a better man. [He pauses and lets those words sink in. In the silence, we can see Juan's anger visibly rising, his breathing becoming heavier, his expression dark and cold.] JV: You, Trey and Alex? You all deserve each other. You're all cut from that same cowardly, selfish cloth. It's in your nature to be ungrateful, entitled wastes of skin. [Suddenly, he leaps out of his chair, his fury contained no longer. He screams into the camera...] JV: We were fighting for _you_ ya' stupid son of a bitch! _YOU!_ Me, Edwin, Gavin...even Tommy...we all fought for _YOU._ And look where it got us... ...look where... [His words trail off as just as suddenly, all the fight seems to have left his body. He slumps back down into his chair, staring straight ahead with an absolutely miserable look on his face.] JV: Use the wife as an excuse, but I know you better than anybody else walkin' on this planet. Seeing how easily you were able to throw away twelve years of friendship, you think I'm gonna' believe for a second that you value and cherish that stupid c[bleep]t? [A faint smile forms, almost as if he's trying to taunt Kinsey through that camera lens. Each word is filled with nothing but the intention to hurt, to infuriate and to enrage.] JV: I ain't sorry I hit her and I don't regret it, because it finally opened my eyes to the truth, Luke. It finally made me realize what a self-centered, selfish little f[bleep] you really are. You think I crossed a line by putting hands on your "family?" [Juan lowers his head and laughs. He just laughs, because the whole thing sounds so ridiculous and stupid to him.] JV: Newsflash, Luke...I _am_ family. Your brother ain't some failed wrestler from Syracuse that got his back broken by a drunk Texan in St. Louis...your _brother_ was the man that traveled with you on the road for a dozen years into every godforsaken town in America to collect a paycheck. Your _brother_ was the man that stood and fought by your side against all odds and against all reason. Your _brother_, was the man that just spent a year of his life fighting, ruining and sacrificing everything good in his life to avenge _you._ [When Juan says this, a look of regret briefly flashes across his face as he immediately stares down, almost as if the remorse for his actions has hit him fully...completely. But when he looks back up. there's a disturbingly calm look on his face. When you look into his eyes, you see they burn with nothing but rage.] JV: And you just buried a knife right into your brother's goddamn back. [He closes his eyes and chuckles to himself.] JV: I always knew that bitch was gonna' ruin your life and I was right. [Juan pauses momentarily, almost as if he's hesitating to say his next words. He glances downward for a split-second, before looking back up, throwing away all regrets with his next words.] JV: You're not Luke Kinsey. You're not my friend and you're not my brother...not anymore. [As he shakes his head, he takes a deep breath, almost as if he's fighting against himself from saying any more, but he spits out the next words, regardless.] JV: Luke Kinsey is dead...and you killed him. [He's silent now, just staring directly into the camera for a good long while. It may only be a few seconds, but that intense glare makes it seem like an eternity.] JV: I just ended a man's career for Luke Kinsey. [A pause as a dangerous smirk forms on his lips.] JV: Just what the hell do you think I'm gonna' to do to you? [Fade out. Kyle Lee's office is more utilitarian than prestigious looking. After all, he has to move it from arena to arena, now, so a lot of it is conceived with practicality in mind. Still, there a desk, and there are chairs. One of those chairs hosts the self-sufficient looking masked superhero Gamma Ray. Behind him stand faceless men in black riot gear from head to toe, save for the word "Guard" written on their chest in block letters, and an orange armband with the security company's logo. The Doomsayer sighs, and sits in the opposite chair, while perusing through a dossier.] KL: Vincent Gerard Lantey Security Inc. I can't believed we missed it. V. G. Lantey... Well, at least it's not some stupid acronym, for a change. Just when I thought I had enough problems to deal with... [Lee finally raises his head and looks across the table.] KL: You come along and become my new chief of security. GR: I'm the owner, yes. Are you saying you regret signing that contract? KL: Absolutely, yes. GR: So you're left wishing you had time to examine that security contract further before signing it all? These things are always easier to do in hindsight. Fact is, Ms. Chambers didn't have a chance. Overseeing the day to day operations of a wrestling company while handling all of the ownership transfer papers and all of the sub-contracts from individual talent to catering to security, constantly being interrupted by irate wrestlers, righteous or otherwise, as she desperately attempted to keep bolting on that thick glass ceiling she'd been instructed to install... no, she never had the chance to notice anything could be amiss. KL: I should just fire you right now. GR: Fire me? Not unless there's a breach of contract, you can't. KL: Your Guard is an abomination. GR: Really? We've done an astounding job so far. The security is tighter than it's been in years! We stopped a whole lot of brawls at Gold Rush. We managed to control Martinez and Axis! We've protected everyone, kept the undesirables out... KL: You STOLE four titles! Or, at least, you had these goons do it! [Lee points at the inhuman, unfeeling Guards standing behind the Irradiated One.] GR: We didn't steal anything. We simply confiscated them, something we fully have the authority to do. Securing the Women's North American Title and handing the thief over to the proper authorities is exactly what you pay us to do. KL: What about the UWF North American Title? The MBC Smash Bash Crucify Championship? The MBC World Heavyweight Championship? GR: We received a tip that... KL: Bull[MEEP]! GR: We... simply couldn't ignore it and... [he clears his throat] we had to act. KL: Just hand the belts back. GR: Certainly. First, I'd respectfully ask you to dismantle that glass ceiling you have firmly in place. KL: What glass ceiling? GR: Don't be difficult, now, I asked respectfully. Insulting my intelligence isn't a good way to start these proceedings. You've had your Chambers puppet install this old boys' club of wrestling for months! You never ran out of creative ways to keep the most talented members of the roster down. Meanwhile, you couldn't unfurl a red carpet long enough for all the stale dinosaurs like Epstein, Annis, Whitecross, Kauffman, Vasquez... the list just doesn't end. KL: The UWF-MBC gives everyone a fair shake. GR: Oh, really? The freshness date on these fossils expired years ago, yet they're still here rehashing decade old [MEEP] like anyone still cares, being constantly handed unjust privileges, undeserved main events, unmerited title shots and unwarranted bonuses. Meanwhile, what do you do to your superlatively talented newcomers? Heck, the only one that managed to circumvent your glass ceiling had to fake cancer to pull it off. Don't pretend your glass ceiling isn't there, Lee. We feel its presence every week! KL: Are you done? GR: No! I haven't broached the fact that your plenipotentiary, Ms. Chambers, has already cost me the World Heavyweight Championship three times so far. As per your instructions, I assume. But I won't be denied my right anymore. I hold the solution to all of the UWF's woes. KL: Right. GR: You want some belts back, including the one DaMann holds hostage. No problem. As it so happens, I'm the only legitimate number one contender you have. I have been for months! So, here's what were going to do; you give us four blank match contracts, and we'll save the day for you. KL: A blank match contract? GR: Yes. UWF-MBC blank match contracts, we we can put in the name of the challenger, the opponent, the stipulations, you name it. And once filled out, they're valid and official matches. So we'll take four of them and everything will be alright. KL: Is that so? GR: Absolutely. It's the solution to all of the UWF's woes, really. In my blank match contract, I'll scribble in my name, and Trey DaMann's, see? KL: Yeah... GR: Then, I add "for the UWF World Heavyweight Championship," you follow? KL: Sure. GR: On the next line, I add in the stipulations. I don't want him to take the easy way out, so I make it a No DQ so he can't disqualify himself to keep the belt. KL: Thing is, he can't currently wrestle. GR: No problem. DaMann doesn't have to wrestle if he's too chicken[BLEEP]. Just pencil in that the Champion loses his title on a forfeiture and your problem is forever solved. KL: Essentially, you think you'd just get the title handed to you, then. GR: It's an option. But if he shows up, my immeasurably superior talent will take care of it. There's a reason I have not officially lost a one on one match in over four years. I'm the most gifted wrestler in the universe by far. KL: Out of morbid curiosity, why would you need three other blank match contracts, then? GR: Because I'm not negotiating solely in my name, here. I have allies to consider as well. [He thumbs over his shoulder, designating the masked men in black behind him.] KL: You have allies? GR: Of course. KL: Not underlings, but allies? GR: Quite so. KL: Like... Wrestlers? GR: Quite capable ones, if you ask me. KL: Who? GR: You'll see. KL: Who? Who else is involved in this plot? GR: All in due time. Meanwhile, we'd need a few more than four blank match contracts, in truth, but one blank match contract per confiscated title seemed more reasonable. KL: OK, forget about blank match contracts right now, let alone four. It'll be a cold day in Hell when I start granting people blank match contracts. GR: Alright. We could settle for two of them. KL: No! None! GR: What if I used my Universal IOU Championship of the World for one of them? You just make it a no DQ match where DaMann loses the belt with a forfeit, and your problem goes away forever. KL: It would love if I could actually book such a match, but I can't. My hands are tied. But even if I could, I wouldn't. You know what would be worse than a champion that deceived his way to the top? A champion that didn't actually fight to win his title. Under my watch, ALL champions will have fought for their titles, understand? No one is winning anything by forfeit. GR: Now, you're just being stubborn. KL: Welcome to my presidency.. GR: In that case, strip him of the title, I cash in Whitney, and as there's no champion to face, I inherit the World Heavyweight Championship. KL: I'm not stripping the guy of the title. GR: What? I recall you said something to that effect in your tedious address, but I assumed it was just another one of your failed jests falling flat! Why the [BLEEP] would you not vacate the title? Does he have a UWF contract? KL: No. I'm working on that. One way or the other, he will. GR: Meanwhile, without a valid contract, he can't be the champion. So strip him of the title and give it to me. You'll get your very first worthy champion in the UWF's storied history, and see the return of four other championship belts as an added perk. Everyone wins. KL: I'm not stripping DaMann of the title. [Gamma Ray's trembling hand slowly rises up to massage his forehead.] GR: Are you insane? What motivates you, here? Corruption or incompetence? Or is it both? I don't have any personal issue with the guy, but you have no other choice than to strip him of the title. Not doing it is indefensible! No valid reason on this earth could exist to support such a ludicrous position. KL: Obviously, I wouldn't be able to convince you. GR: So basically, you're saying you want to cost me the World Heavyweight Championship for the fourth time, is that what you're saying? [Gamma Ray's not making any threatening gestures, but you can tell he has become quite irate. He says everything in a loud, over-articulated whisper typical of passive-aggressive restraint.] GR: Trust, me, Lee. Costing me the World Heavyweight Championship a fourth time is not the route you want to take. That can only be a path that leads to a lot of blood and a lot of tears being shed, all of them yours. Do you understand? KL: I'm not the lunatic that somehow thinks he's just going to be handed a title, you are. [Gamma Ray is positively seething, and a foreboding feeling says that any threat he makes is anything but idle.] GR: Don't think I'll let you cost me my due championship for the fourth time without consequence, Lee. You think you can buy your way out of anything, but when you set your sights on the UWF, you set them too high. Did you actually think you could monopolize wrestling unopposed? Well guess what, Lex Luthor, Superman showed up to tear down your fascist little empire. KL: I'm shaking in my boots, over here. Hand over the four title belts you stole, and I will be lenient. GR: No. No deal. You are corrupt and incompetent, and I can't let you ruin the UWF like this. Strip him or sign him, I don't care which, but I expect you to have solved this situation before the next time we meet. [Gamma Ray rises and heads towards the exit, surrounded by members of his Guard. Reaching the door, he turns back for a moment.] GR: You've only had but a glimpse of what the Guard can do, Lee. So when you finally decide to stop protecting DaMann, you'd best remember that the Guard is bigger than you are, and you'd better remember who the UWF's sole legitimate number one contender is. [In an almost inhuman orderliness, the masked men exit the room, leaving Lee, shaking his head in disbelief and frustration.] DR: I don't think negotiations are a strong suit for Gamma Ray or his personal army of security personel. SS: What about Lee? His refusal to cooperate is going to get us all killed! Or unemployed. And I don't know which is worse! AM: I'm confused, did Gamma Ray say he had allies? SS: DAMMIT, I'M NOT GOING BACK TO ACW! I'M NOT! [In the backstage area Cain and Saul Morningstar sit upon a wooden bench. Cain is pulling on his boot and slowly begins to lace it up as his brother sits there staring off into space for a few moments before realizing the camera is in the room. Saul looks at the camera and begins to speak.] SM: I'm sorry Pablo. What we did was wrong. I tried to stop Cain, tried to tell him .. [Cain glares at his younger brother who bites his bottom lip and begins to lace up his boots.] CM: What is it about you Pablo? What is it about you that makes everyone, including my own brother love you? I don't understand ... I mean for the longest time you were nothing but a low down dirty cheat ... [Saul looks shocks by that statement.] CM: You were no better than a man who punched a cancer patient. But suddenly with that old man Brett Young by your side you are holier than thou and it's a sin to lay your ass out in the center of the ring. SM: Pablo couldn't have been dirty Cain, he just couldn't have been. [An exasperated Cain looks at Saul for a long minute before speaking to him.] CM: What is it about Pablo that makes you think he couldn't have been dirty Saul? SM: He carries Irish Spring in his bag, which means he showers ... so he can't be dirty ... well at least not all of the time. [Cain smirks for a brief moment.] CM: Well there you have it Pablo, you can't be dirty all of the time. But Pablo once again you got what you deserved. Oh I can see the dumbfounded look on your face and I can smell the gears in your brain overheating as they turn, trying to grasp that fact. Pablo, if you see an angry dog on the street do you provoke it? When you see a bee hive do you poke it with stick ... SM: I did! [Saul's face quickly becomes laced with fear as he pounders that horrible memory.] SM: Never again ... never again. CM: Even my brother can learn Pablo. But not you. NO! You demanded an apology from us ... you demanded to have a card I tossed in the trash ... SM: It was a nice card ... [Cain continues to speak as if his brother didn't say anything.] CM: Just as we had done to you. My problem wasn't with you Pablo, personally I could give two [bleeps] about you ... SM: SWEAR JAR! CM: I mean seriously we took you out of action once, what do you really think I'd have a problem watching your carcass being carted out of the arena again? I'm not going to apologize this time Pablo, there isn't going to be another card for me to throw in the trash can. You see, you picked a fight with two angry dogs ... .two dogs who were humiliated by an old man and a man who will never live up to the hype he constantly receives ... Tommy Stephens and John Shock ... two men who won by luck ... SM: Wasn't it a steel chair? CM: Luck and a steel chair. Stephens, Shock ... trust me when I say this isn't finished. I know the brass is going to push you to glory beyond that of what you deserve and when they do we will be there to knock you from the heavens ... to show you just how mortal you really are. [Saul smiles and nods his head in agreement.] CM: This week though we serve penance by taking on Alex Martinez ... the Last American Bad-Ass, the bully of the play ground. [A serious look falls upon the face of Saul.] SM: I hate bullies ... CM: Martinez, we know you're the tough guy ... an old guy but still a tough guy. While you're television championship is up for grasps ... SM: I love shiny titles ... CM: We know the brass wants to put us in our place. Wants to shut me up and wants to punish us for taking out their poster child of rehabilitation Pablo O'Connor ... but know this A-Mart ... SM: Are we going to the store? If we are I need a new hat ... CM: You're taking on two brothers who need to prove a point to the world ... [As Cain finishes his last words the scene slowly fades to black.] DR: Heaven's Hunted is perhaps the most underrated tag team in the UWF today. They haven't had a lot of luck since arriving, but they're a formidable duo who are capable of very bad things. AM: Just ask Pablo O'Connor about that. SS: Let it go, they apologized. Sort of. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Kyle Lee |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage HANDICAP MATCH FOR THE UNIFIED WORLD TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP: "The Last American Badass" Alex Martinez[c] versus Heaven's Hunted ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [The brothers Cain and Saul headed to the ring first, garnering a little fan support if only for the fact that they faced the Last American Badass, who isn't high on anybody's list these days. Martinez stood across the ring from his two opponents and waited until the referee was showing them the strap, then made a beeline for Cain and blasted him with a closed fist that quickly led to the start of the match. Dealing with the bigger of the brothers resulted in Cain being kicked in the stomach and tossed from the ring, leaving Saul all alone with the monstrous LAB.] SS: WHOA! Alex may set a landspeed record here! DR: Martinez trying to turn this into a regular match right out of the gate, headbutt on Saul Morningstar! With a series of elbows to follow, my god! [Cain slowly got up on the outside, as the fan in the donkey-themed luchador mask screamed in his face and berated the tag team wrestler. Inside the ring Martinez scooped Saul up and slammed him into the canvas, stopping only to prevent Cain from getting back into the ring with a deadly knee to the face through the ropes, and then drove that same knee into Saul's chest gleefully. The champion abused him with his usual power attack, getting a near fall off a hotshot in the corner only for Cain to put his brother's leg on the ropes for a ref break. Alex attempted to cut his re-entry into the ring off, but got crotched in the ropes by his second opponent who then after a series of forearm smashes delivered a hooking clothesline that brought Martinez stumbling to the corner.] DR: I know it's a two on one situation, but even so it's been a while since Alex Martinez has had the odds against him like this. We'll have to see how the champion can respond to this. SS: You mean other than 'with murder in his eyes'? [Despite the vocal booing of the fan in the luchadore mask, the Morningstars managed to regroup before taking on Martinez again and this time it was to better results with a two on one attack. Heaven's Hunted laid in good on Martinez, hitting him with a balanced speed and power attack including a double neckbreaker into the mat that came close to a pinfall.] AM: Here's a question, if Cain and Saul can end up winning this match, which one of them becomes the new champion? Is it whoever gets the pin, or do they both sort of become champion? SS: I wouldn't worry about situations that probably aren't going to happen, Amy. Besides, if that situation does come to pass, I'd be more worried about Martinez tearing the building apart with his bare hands in anger. DR: Then you _WOULD_ have to go back to ACW, Sam. SS: NOOOOOO! [Saul attempted to pin Alex, which was broken up with a benchpress toss by the LAB. Cain tried next, to basically the same result except a stomp to Alex's head from Saul afterward. The brothers lifted the champion up and went back to work doubleteaming him, however an attempted spike piledriver didn't get off the drawing board thanks to the massive size difference between Saul and Alex. Martinez finally got in some offense to turn the tide, ducking a double elbowsmash and coming back with a freight-train like lariat on both opponents. This drew a large chorus of boos from the crowd, but a standing ovation from the donkey luchador.] DR: Martinez has at least one fan here in attendance. AM: Es Carne De Burro. SS: Nice to meet you too, Amy. [A standing backbreaker on Saul once Martinez got back to his feet split up the team again, leaving Cain to be pummeled by the champion and laid out with a crushing avalanche in the corner. Saul picked himself back up and tried to save his brother, but instead was met with a giant boot to the face and a spinebuster slam to the canvas. Alex quickly dragged Saul to the ropes and proceeded to tie him up, allowing him to watch as Martinez unleashed hell once more on Cain, choking him down right in front of Saul.] DR: Oh this is uncalled for, the man is helpless to watch his brother get mauled by this lunatic! AM: Saul's not quite right in the head, I can't imagine what this is doing to his psyche to watch Cain be manhandled like this. [Alex sneered as he lifted the bigger of the Morningstars up and prepared for the Firebomb Chokeslam. But as he readied him, Cain fought back and poked Martinez in the eye and then capitalized with a huge wrist-clutch suplex that dumped Martinez on his head! The crowd was shocked and let loose with a pop, but when Cain tried to climb to the second rope for a follow-up he was forced to duck as an object came sailing past his head, and fell off the ropes as a result.] AM: What on earth was that? DR: That fan in the mask just threw a soda can at Cain Morningstar and knocked him off the second rope! AM: Great, well if we had decent security here they'd be tossed out of the building, but something tells me Gamma Ray would probably just promote them to his new sidekick or something. [The fan scurried away through the crowd as Cain picked himself back up, unfortunately it was just in time to be caught by the throat and smashed into the mat via a Firebomb Chokeslam from a now even more enraged Martinez. Again, rather than end the match there Alex smashed Saul in the face again, freed him from the ropes and gave him a Firebomb as well. The two brothers laid out side by side, Martinez stood on each of their chests as the ref counted to three amidst the booing of the Nassau Coliseum.] DH: Here is your winner, AND STILL UNIFIED TELEVISION CHAMPION... AAAAAALLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEX MAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRTINEEEEEZ! |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 06:15 PM Post #3 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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DR: Martinez retains the championship here but I think Cain Morningstar may have a complaint here! That fan threw a can of soda at him and caused him to become distracted, certainly long enough for Alex Martinez to deliver his patented Firebomb. AM: Maybe, but I wouldn't get that worked up over it. Heaven's Hunted aren't exactly popular guys, I doubt many people will shed tears over this. SS: Alex sure won't. His reign of pain survives another day! DR: Well, as we're coming close to the main event tonight, Moe Owens is standing by with Tumaffi earlier about the incident that took place at the end of this week's House of Throwdowns. For anyone who missed it, Tumaffi was leaving after his victory in the main event, when he had a run-in with Serge Annis and a wall of flames. SS: Ain't that always the way? DR: Well after the assault he put down on Annis last time on Rampage, Tumaffi didn't expect to see the Lethal Protector anytime soon. What he got was a fired up Serge, looking for revenge. Here now is Moe's interview. [Cut backstage. The gargantuan figure of Tumaffi fills the view. He has showered and dressed from his epic match earlier in the evening. And if that confuses you, you should probably connect the phrase "epic match from earlier in the evening" with the phrase "dark match squash you didn't see because it was a dark match, silly". Wearing a baggy black silk floral outfit, the four-hundred-plus pound Samoan is minding his own business. It is hard to gauge what he's feeling, because his wild long hair and full beard make his face hard to see. So Moe Owens is probably risking his life about now.] MO: Tumaffi! Can I get a comment from you about what happened on House Of Throwdowns? You seemed to think that Serge Annis was done for, but he came back and assaulted you at the end of the program... [Moe's sentence slows down a bit at the end. It's one of those situations where you know basically what you want to say, but when it comes out, you realize that you should have paid more attention to how you said it. So now that Moe has basically told the monstrous Samoan 'you were wrong, and now I will tell you about it in detail as if somehow you weren't aware', his voice trails off and he turns sideways in preparation to flee if need be. Tumaffi stopping in mid-stride is also not a good sign.] MO: I, uhh, maybe should have worded that a lit... [As Moe was afraid of, a loud outburst from Tumaffi cuts him off in mid- sentence. But to his surprise, it isn't blood-curdling rage; no, Tumaffi is laughing.] Tumaffi: Mainlander fool, of course you should have! Indeed, were this not such a welcome occurence, Tumaffi may well have dealt with you as you deserve! But it pleases Tumaffi to show mercy this day. For though Tumaffi is rarely wrong about an assumption, this is a case where I am most pleased to be incorrect. [Moe blinks. It's one of those 'say whaaaat?' blinks usually reserved for statements that cannot be resolved logically. Like most anything Gamma Ray says. Or Miyuki Ozaki. Or... well, half the roster, really. He's probably got that blink on standby at all times.] MO: Wha? Tumaffi: Tumaffi warned you to pay attention to my words, mainlander! There is no glory in defeating a worthless opponent! If Serge Annis has survived Tumaffi's assault, then perhaps he will be the worthy adversary I had anticipated. Excellent! Tumaffi eagerly awaits his next move. Though it is also likely that Tumaffi will simply strike first and crush him beneath my heel. Either way. Tumaffi is not picky; whether I attack him and destroy him without mercy, or whether he attacks me and I destroy him without mercy, the outcome is inevitable! MO: So you have no interest in the state of our World Championship? Tumaffi: Tumaffi agrees with the mainlander Martinez; the World Championship is now meaningless. Once Tumaffi has crushed Annis and proven my power, then Tumaffi will seek other meaningful battles which I will also easily win! But for now, only the battle at hand matters! The splattered blood of Tumaffi's defeated opponents are a far more glorious covering than any tarnished gold, and I shall wear Serge Annis' blood with dignity! That is all! [And so it is, Tumaffi exits as we cut back to the arena.] DR: The war between Annis and Tumaffi keeps escalating from week to week. When it finally explodes in the ring, I can't even begin to imagine the carnage and collateral damage those two will cause. SS: Remember Descent Into Hell? Because Caliban sure doesn't. [Cuts to backstage where a disappointed and nervous Pablo O'Connor leans against a wall in a very empty looking hallway.] POC: [sighs] I just can't seem to do anything right lately... Lady's Voice: You hatched the perfect plan! [Pablo shakes his head.] POC: But I didn't win that trophy.. I wanted that trophy! It was going to be the perfect Valentine's present! Lady's Voice: Tsk.. [Suddenly the woman in the donkey themed luchadore mask walks on screen and up to O'Connor.] Donkey Woman: What's a trophy next to sweet... [The woman starts removing the mask, a dark smile starting to grow on Pablo's face.] Donkey Woman: Sexy... [The mask comes off to reveal.. STEPHANIE DELACROIX!] SD: Revenge! [Their eyes light up with excitement, like junkies getting their fix after way too long without their elixir of choice!] POC: Mmm... You were GREAT out there! [Delacroix holds up the mask and smirks.] SD: Happy Valentine's courtsey of "Platero"! POC: Happy Valentine's! [They start kissing passionately! Too passionately as we fade out from this quickly!] AM: It was Stephanie in the mask?!? But why on earth would she get involved in the match with Martinez and Heaven's Hunted? DR: The Morningstars were the people who put Pablo on the injured list for months, and she certainly helped set them up for the loss tonight. I have a feeling this is far from the end between Pablo O'Connor and Heaven's Hunted. [Cut to the locker room, where we find Scottie Saratoga quietly checking the progress of the various matches on a nearby monitor and taking notes. Suddenly, the quiet is shattered by the slam of a door.] VO: WHERE THE [BLEEP] IS THAT [BLEEP]ING BITCH?! [The voice is shrill. And nasally. And petulant. And it leaves no doubt that the owner of said voice is one rather pissed-off Nikki the Cat, who is now making a beeline for Scottie.] Nikki: Where the [BLEEP] do you get off in calling me "sloppy"? What the [BLEEP] does that even mean?! Your [BLEEP]ing FACE is sloppy! [Scottie just ignores the rantings. This only enrages Nikki further.] Nikki: HEY! I'm [BLEEP]ing talking to you, bitch! Who the [BLEEP] gave YOU the right to put all that [BLEEP] on the internet? You can't even get my [BLEEP]ing NAME right, you [BLEEP]ing hack! You only got the job 'cause you're a no-talent [BLEEP]ing DYKE! [Scottie was turning back towards the monitor when the last word was said, and she turns around to face Nikki, an angry look in her eyes.] SS: Say that again. I dare you. [Nikki now takes a step back, a brief look of fear crossing her face as Scottie gets closer. Then the anger and disgust pops right back up.] Nikki: Anyone could write better than you. Hell, _I_ can [BLEEP]ing write better than you! That [BLEEP]ing garbage you post online sucks as [BLEEP]ing bad as your wrestling! SS: If my wrestling is that bad, Nikki, why don't you prove it? Let's have a match. I'll be glad to wipe the floor with your face. Nikki: Pfft! Why should I waste my time kicking your skank ass?! You're just some [BLEEP]ing LOSER! The only reason anyone pays ANY attention to you is 'cause you got that piece of [BLEEP] internet rag. You'll just whine about everything again to the web once I got you lying flat on your back! [She sneers.] But I bet you're [BLEEP]ing used to THAT already. [Scottie doesn't say anything -- just reaches out and grabs Nikki by the throat with her left right, raising her right hand into a fist. Nikki suddenly shrieks in terror, trying to pull away -- and failing.] Nikki: DON'T TOUCH ME! HALP!!! HALP!!! [Yes, that's "HALP", not "HELP" Nikki is screaming right now.] SS: Let me put this to you as bluntly as I can. [Scottie's voice is calm -- dangerously calm] I can cave your face in right now OR I can cave it in in the middle of the ring. [Despite Nikki's sheer undignified panic, she actually manages a defiant snarl in between struggles.] Nikki: I'm not on tonight -- I don't hafta waste my [BLEEP]ing time with YOU! You're just a [BLEEP]ing fake writer on the internet who can't wrestle for [BLEEP]ing [BLEEP]! And if you don't [BLEEP]ing let go, I'll have ya [BLEEP]ing suspended! [Scottie just smiles. It's not a very pleasant smile.] SS: Tell you what... [She releases the hold she has on Nikki, who stumbles back.] ...if you think it's so easy to write what I write and that I'm such a bad wrestler, I'll make you a deal. You face me _tonight_. If you win, you write the next House of Throwdowns show. When I win... well, I'll just have the sheer satisfaction of leaving you a greasy smear on the canvas. What do you say? [Nikki rubs her throat, then slowly nods.] Nikki: Yeah...yeah! You're on, BITCH! [Nikki reaches out to jab a finger at Scottie's chest to punctuate the point home. Scottie, however, suddenly grabs Nikki's wrist and drags her out the door.] SS: Good. We're doing this NOW. [As Nikki starts hollering in panic again, cut back to the commentators.] DR: Well, I'm not sure... AM: There they are! [From the backstage curtain, Scottie Saratoga is dragging Nikki the Cat down to ringside. As they get near the ring, an official starts running down to catch up.] SS: This looks official! At least, that's what the last text I got says. AM: How is that official? SS: Okay, it's not official. It's just hot. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Katie White |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage IMPROMPTU MATCH: Scottie Saratoga versus Nikki The Cat ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [Saratoga throws Nikki under the ropes and starts smacking her upside the head with forearm shots. Nikki reaches the ropes in an attempt to escape, and when the referee gets there, he's able to get Scottie away at the four and a half count.] DR: Nikki's mouth may have written a check that she can't cash. AM: They go to lock up... Nikki with the rake of the eyes! [Sneering, Nikki places Scottie in a side headlock and attempts a bulldog. Unfortunately for her, Scottie still has enough forethought to plant her feet firmly and isn't going anywhere. Instead, Scottie counters with an atomic drop! With Nikki staggering and gripping her rear in pain, Scottie follows through with a bulldog of her own. She quickly drops a elbow into the small of Nikki's back, then rolls her over for the pin. To the disappointment of the crowd, Nikki kicks out at one and scrambles again for the safety of the ropes. With the official trying to push Scottie back, an angry Nikki gestures wildly towards her opponent, demanding that he disqualify Scottie!] AM: What the hell is Nikki going on about?! DR: I think she's claiming sexual harassment! SS: [shaking his head in disbelief] ...OK, even I'll say THAT'S a stretch! [An enraged Scottie steps forward- and is caught by a throat punch from Nikki. Stunned, Scottie is an easy target as Nikki plants her to the mat with a Rocker Dropper, then covers for a one count. Nikki whips Scottie into the ropes and goes for a back bodydrop, but Scottie drives a high knee into Nikki's head, then grabs her by the hair and begins slamming Nikki face-first into the corner, finally breaking at the four and a half count from the referee.] DR: The referee is having his hands full here- these two don't like each other. [Scottie picks up Nikki in a fireman's carry and completes ten revolutions of an airplane spin, and falls back, causing Nikki to land back first! Saratoga stalks over to the woozy Nikki and grabs one of her legs, twisting the hold for a standing ankle lock. Howling in pain, Nikki's fingers frantically claw at the canvas, trying to reach for the bottom rope. Scottie pulls Nikki back away from the prize and twists harder as the referee asks if Nikki is giving up.] AM: Nowhere to go for Nikki the Cat! She has -- OH COME ON! [What has Amy hollering now in disgust would be the fact that Nikki is now clinging to the referee's leg like a desperate barnacle in order to try to break the hold. Trying to do his job properly, the referee orders Nikki to let go of him. This just has Nikki clutching at him harder, much to the jeers of the crowd. As the official tries to shake and pry Nikki off him, a fed-up Scottie Saratoga releases the ankle lock, then reaches over to tear her craven opponent off the referee herself.] DR: Scottie's managed to pry Nikki off the official...she's got Nikki lifted! Belly to back suplex! [1.. 2... Kickout! Disappointed pop! Nikki quickly rolls out of the ring in an attempt to get her breath back. Scottie also rolls out of the ring, and Nikki starts running to get away from the recapper.] AM: That coward! SS: She's not retreating! She's just advancing in another direction! [Scottie chases Nikki to the other side of the ring, where Nikki rolls under the ropes to re-enter the ring. As Scottie follows, Nikki greets her with a pair of boots to Scottie's side, then drops a knee to the back of Scottie's head.] SS: And it worked! [Nikki starts to choke out Scottie, only breaking at the four and a half count. She grabs Scottie by the ponytail and whips her to the corner, then charges in... and Scottie moves, causing Nikki to charge into the corner! Scottie drives a forearm into Nikki's throat and raises her other arm into a fist.] DR: The crowd is encouraging Scottie to pummel Nikki the Cat. SS: So is our colleague. AM: GO SCOTTIE! [Scottie rears back- and the referee holds back the arm! Scottie and the referee start arguing, allowing Nikki a chance to slide under the ropes to escape again. She shakes her injured leg out, then turns to flip off the crowd calling her out on her cowardice.] Nikki: [BLEEP] YOU!!! SS: Nikki, I think you need to ease up a bit on the swearing there. AM: You never had an issue with someone like Michael Augustine swearing back in the day, Sam. SS: Yeah, but Augy could legitimately tear off my arms and feed them to me! Also, Augy didn't have a smokin' hot ass. DR: Point. AM: DAVE! [As Nikki continues to berate the fans, Scottie reaches through the ropes and grabs "the Cat" by her hair, pulling her up back to the ring apron.] DR: The referee is calling for a break... [At the four and a half count, Scottie drives a forearm into Nikki's face. The referee forces the two apart, pushing Scottie back into the ring while Nikki falls off the apron and catches her breath.] AM: The ref is getting very frustrated with both contestants. He and Scottie are exchanging words... [Scottie goes to get Nikki, who grabs Scottie's ankle and trips up the Throwdowns Recapper! Still clutching Scottie's leg, a now-sneering Nikki drags her over the ring post, then slams Scottie's knee against the unforgiving metal. HEEL POP! The referee warns Nikki to get back into the ring, who finally does so -- but only after giving Scottie's knee two more slams against the ring post. Nikki lifts Saratoga up, applying an inverted face lock as she does. She suddenly lets go and spins around, driving her elbow into Scottie's chest and sending her crashing back down into the mat.] DR: From what I've been told, Nikki calls that move the "Honey Trap". SS: Effective. Crude, but effective. AM: If it's effective, it's probably another move she stole from her brother. DR: There's the cover! [1.. 2... Kickout! Nikki rakes the eyes and then drops a quick fist into Scottie's throat. She attempts the pin again, but this time with her feet on the ropes for extra leverage. However, as the official moves into place, he sees where Nikki's feet are and refuses to count!] AM: HA! DR: Now it's Nikki's turn to argue with the ref! She -- INSIDE CRADLE BY SCOTTIE SARATOGA! ONE...TWO...THR--NO! Kickout at the last second by Nikki the Cat! AM: And Scaredy Cat's rolling out of the ring to escape again! SS: Hey, don't knock a solid strategy that's worked so far for her! AM: What strategy?! She's running away! SS: Details... [Scottie moves to go after Nikki, but the increasingly harried official pushes her back, preventing her from leaving the ring. By the corner, Scottie Saratoga and the referee exchange even more heated words again, standing face to face as they argue. Meanwhile, Nikki slides a chair under the bottom rope, then rolls back in herself. The Nassau crowd tries to shout a warning to the bickering duo in time...] AM: Turn around, Scottie... TURN AROUND!!! [...too late as Nikki charges into the corner, knocking Scottie into the referee and stunning the hapless official! A grinning Nikki then eagerly picks up the chair... ...goes for the swing... ...and the chair is suddenly YANKED from her hands by one very, very pissed off Scottie Saratoga. Cue the violence pop!] SS: Um, Nikki? You might wanna go back to that "running away" strategy again. Like... [looks at his watch] ...now. [Nikki backs away in terror, begging for mercy. But Scottie is having none of it. With the bloodthirsty fans crying out for Nikki to get her painfully just desserts, Scottie raises the chair... ...and suddenly the bell rings! Now recovered and spying Saratoga with the chair, the referee signals for the disqualification! HEEL POP!!!] Ring Announcer: Here is your winner by disqualification... NNNNNNNNNNNNNNIIIIIIKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII THE CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT! AM: NO! [Both the Nassau fans and Scottie roar their disapproval about this miscarriage of a decision, but the official stands firm. Meanwhile, you've heard of a poor loser before, yes? Nikki the Cat demonstrates on how to be a poor winner by mocking and jeering at Scottie and rubbing it in Scottie's face that now she gets to write House of Throwdowns -- "YEAH!! SUCK IT, [BLEEP]ING BITCH!!". And then she realizes Scottie still has the chair. Scottie angrily pushes aside the ref to try to embed the chair into Nikki's skull. The Cat, now acting more like a jackrabbit, bolts in terror out of the ring and back up the aisle to escape her enraged opponent as the crowd rains down the boos.] AM: That was... that was a mockery of a match! Scottie Saratoga was robbed, pure and simple. DR: That may be, but unfortunately Scottie's temper during the match didn't help her case at all. The official had his hands full with both of them. That was just the final straw that broke his patience! SS: It's Scottie's own damn fault. She's the one who wanted the match so badly. A win's a win, even if it is by DQ! AM: And now Nikki the Cat gets to recap the next House of Throwdowns. [She grimaces] God help us. SS: Hey, who knows? Maybe Nikki'll surprise us! Maybe she's actually a modern-day J.D. Salinger! AM: Salinger's dead, Sam. SS: Then the bar doesn't have to be set that very high, now does it? DR: House of Throwdowns next week should be an... interesting... read, to say the least. But just moments away from the finals of the 2010 Blind Date Tournament now, we have more footage from one of the participating tag teams and just how their night out on the town went. Here's a follow-up to the date of "Nighthawk" Michael Bonn and Felicity Malone. [We cut to the lobby of the Uniondale Marriott Hotel, where we find Rose Malone and Virginia St. Ursula each slumped in a chair. Waiting. A pile of magazines and newspapers thoroughly-read several times over lies between them. Ginny drums her fingers against the arm rest while Rose shoots a look at her watch. Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle jolts them from their lethargy. After a few moments, Felicity Malone and Michael Bonn enter the hotel, each smiling and laughing a little. Bonn's walking a little funny, but to be fair, that's only to be expected if one's never ridden a motorcycle before.] VSU: Where the hell have you two been?! [Michael just gestures eagerly back towards the exit where Felicity's ride is.] BONN: I need to get me one of those! FELICITY: Well, it was going to be dinner and a movie, but on the way we saw a big, empty parking lot, and Michael said he'd never driven a motorcycle before, so... [Rose stands up, rigidly straight.] ROSE: Felicity! He could have gotten himself killed! FELICITY: [laughing] I made him wear the bi-- the spare helmet. He was fine. [Rose crosses her arms.] ROSE: And then you went to the movie? [Felicity coughs quietly into her fist, and looks at Michael.] FELICITY: Well... BONN: We took a detour down to Jones Beach instead. VSU: [in disbelief] The beach?! It's the middle of winter! BONN: it's not like we went swimming or anything. VSU: Again, it's the _middle_ of _winter_! BONN: But the view, Ginny! No one else was there, waves crashing against the shore, and you look up and you could just see the stars. Everywhere, stars. No city lights blocking them out. It was just... [Michael's voice trails off as he simply nods.] VSU: Ok, fine. [She folds her arms across her chest] It's a half-hour to get to there from here. How long does it take to go stargazing?! BONN: Well, then we kind of... [Michael scratches the back of his head, looking over at Felicity.] FELICITY: And then we went to a favorite little hole-in-the-wall bar of mine, we got some drinks and got ourselves a quiet corner booth and... [Rose's eyes widen and she starts to open her mouth--] FELICITY: --and discussed our favorite submission moves! Well, some. I said I'd been watching some of his reels and he said he'd been watching some of mine, you know, just to get acquainted... and it's very... [Felicity looks at Michael, eyes narrowed as she considers the right word.] FELICITY: ...soothing, I guess, to meet someone with some of the same-- ah--anger management issues as me. I forget anything, Michael? [Michael shakes his head, chuckling.] BONN: That's pretty much it. Sorry we lost track of time...it was kinda nice being able to just talk shop for a while! You've got one heckuva sister, Rose. Is it OK if I call her? [Rose raises an eyebrow, casts a glance at Virginia, but shrugs.] VSU: MICHAEL! BONN: About what would be a good starting motorcycle for me! Sheesh.... [Virginia looks over at Felicity, then back to Michael. The tension has eased slightly, albeit _just_ slightly.] VSU: [to Felicity] You see what you've started? I can already feel the insurance premiums getting raised... BONN: I'll be careful. VSU: And what's going to happen when Ryu finds out? BONN: Simple. If he touches it, I'll break his legs. [He grins a little.] Please? FELICITY: He's got a natural talent. I can even give him riding lessons? ROSE: You might be pushing it, Felicity... VSU: [tart but not unkind] Fine. Fine! It's been very nice meeting you, Felicity and Rose. Goodnight. BONN: Night! [Felicity grins at Michael with a little twinkle in her eye, and is pulled away by Rose, who forcefully walks her out the door. Michael waves.] BONN: That was fun. [to Ginny.] I don't know what you were worried about. [Virginia gives him a look. Shaking her head in disbelief, she exits while muttering.] VSU: ...a motorcycle... God help me, a motorcycle... [Fade out on the rare sight of an amused Michael Bonn for a change.] Skullhead: Main event time, and this one's anybody's match to win. DR: All three teams have been in action tonight, so from a fatigue standpoint nobody has an edge. AM: Although you could point out the fact that Bonn and Felicity had the larger opponents to face. Or Stan and Summer have the size advantage overall here in the finals. Or Vinnie Vasquez and Dalbello Rage... well, I guess they're a team this evening. SS: Serge was robbed! He and that angel-throated partner of his should be here. Slush: Daddy's home, Amy. [SLAP!] Pinhead: Wait, all six of us are commentating here? Slush: And Ann B. Davis too. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: I don't care, Sam the Butcher was a pussy. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 06:16 PM Post #4 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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| | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Mike Beeby |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage BLIND DATE TOURNAMENT 2010 - FINALS: Blake & Crawford versus Bonn & Malone versus Vasquez & Rage ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [With the exception of Vinnie Vasquez and Dalbello Rage, the final teams made their way out to the ring together, the crowd severely split between the teams of Stan and Summer, and Bonn and Felicity. Vasquez got a good response from the crowd as well, but poor Dalbello was the single entity in the match who drew boos from the audience. Irritated but not surprised by the reaction, Rage strode up to Felicity and slapped her across the face to officially begin the match as the bell sounded moments later.] Pinhead: Dalbello's got a lot of nerve to do something like that. Slush: That's not nerve, that's confidence. Confidence in having a porn star quality ass. AM: Alright, porn has come up entirely way too much tonight. Can we give it a rest already? Slush: Maybe if you co-star in a TMK video. AM: Ugh. Slush: Well you aren't going to be the star with that attitude. [Malone and Rage went for each other's throats, leaving Summer Blake to hang back for a moment and choose her spots. She delivered a russian legsweep to bring Dalbello to the canvas, but was duly stomped in the back of the head before a cover by Felicity. The men engaged in a three way brawl, Crawford managing to fend off attacks by both of his opponents and quickly sent Vasquez over the top rope with a back bodydrop. Bonn targetted Crawford's knee with precise dropkicks to chop the Shotgun down, and while there went to work with a submission styled attack. Stan grimaced as Bonn applied a standing grapevine, but Vinnie returned to the match with an inside cradle to Bonn.] DR: One! Two! Kickout! Almost a stolen win, but Michael Bonn escapes! Pinhead: That's good, because if he loses I think Felicity'll string him up by his fingernails. [Vasquez lifted Bonn up by the head and used an arm-wringer to set up for an inverted atomic drop and then a clubbing forearm to knock him down to his knees. Crawford blocked a Vasquez lariat for Bonn, catching Dubba-V with a shouldertackle and wheeled around to drop Bonn with a short-arm clothesline as well. An attempted 12 Gauge is stopped as Felicity grabbed her teammate and pulled him free, and when Stan turned around he was greeted with a double sledgehammer blow to the face from both Malone and Bonn. This staggered him backwards into a rollup attempt by Vinnie, but Crawford kicked out. Across the ring Dalbello and Summer battled on the ropes, Blake catching Rage with a quick shot to set up and bring her crashing down with an elevated neckbreaker off of the turnbuckles, then rolled Rage over and slapped on a rear naked choke with a scissors hold.] Skullhead: Snared by Blake! DR: Quite literally, that's what Summer Blake calls that submission hold! Skullhead: I know that... it's why I said the move's name. DR: Dalbello isn't going anywhere- but here's Felicity with the break! AM: The Women's North American Champion was close to winning this tournament, and what a feather in the cap that would be! Slush: Feathers, that's a fetish I'd like to know more about. [As Malone pulled Summer up and off of Rage, a quick kick to the gut set up a shot to the throat and a single leg crab to the brunette.] Skullhead: The Motor City Maelstrom applied! DR: Rage back to her feet now... The CTC on Felicity! Double submission going down here, who's going to tap first?!? [Summer and Felicity each struggled to avoid tapping out, trapped in their painful holds. In the end, it didn't really matter as Bonn and Crawford grabbed Dalbello and pried her off of Felicity, who in turn released her own grasp on Blake. Neither man assaulted Dalbello, who furiously shoved her way past them to try and reapply the hold. But when she grabbed Felicity, the former Hand of Doom mainstay responded with an arm wrench hip throw to the mat. Summer pulled herself up by the ropes and attempted a cross bodyblock on Felicity, who ducked the move and Summer landed in the grasp of Vinnie Vasquez instead.] DR: Vasquez caught Summer... STRAIGHT KICK TO THE HEAD BY FELICITY! Skullhead: Boy, that turned out Blake's lights. AM: Sam, you're awfully quiet. SS: I'm busy with my baby. Slush: You're not completely awful. We should double date sometime. Tinkle: MEEP! Slush: Fine, triple. You big baby. [With Summer now completely limp and still in his arms, Vinnie chose not to spike her into the canvas, only to let her down gently on her hands and knees, completely dazed by the efforts of Felicity Malone. Of course, he proves not to be entirely a gentlemen by what happens next.] SS: Big Wiggle! Big Wiggle! This may be the only time I've ever liked that guy! AM: Classy, Dubba-V. [Crawford came after Vasquez for embarrassing his partner, levelling Vinnie with a huge lariat and then several atomic drops later delivered a piledriver straight into the mat.] Slush: That's what happens when you touch Stan Crawford's squaw! [Crawford lifted Vinnie back up and continued to abuse him in the corner with repeated chokes, as Dalbello tried to sneak in a submission over a still dazed Summer Blake only to again have Felicity thwart her efforts, grabbing Rage and sending her crashing into the turnbuckles shoulder- first. Crawford kept up the pressure on Vinnie, but a quick elbowsmash right to the face put him on rubber legs for the moment. Vinnie grabbed Stan and hit the Dusty Trails combination, putting Stan down with a slam and then trying for a cover of his own...] DR: ONE! TWO! THR- BONN FLYING ELBOWDROP BREAKS IT UP! AM: Ryu would be proud. SS: He'd be more proud of the Big Wiggle, knowing that guy. [As Bonn rose to his feet, Summer likewise began to come out of her own fog. Felicity battered away on Dalbello with chops in the corner, then lifted her up to a perch on the top rope where she prepared to choke lift her off. But Blake roared back into the middle of things with a spinning leg lariat on Malone, and then stepped up and used her as a platform to drop Dalbello on the top of her head with a Super Blake Bomb!] DR: That was incredible! Could Summer Blake manage to pull off the victory here and win this tournament?!? Skullhead: She's headed back to the top rope again, could be a mistake with the damage she's taken... DR: THE TROUBLEMAKER CONNECTS! BLAKE COVERS... ONE! TWO! THR- Skullhead: FELICITY BROKE THE PIN! [The crowd gasps in dissapointment as Blake's surefire pin attempt is broken up by Malone, as the three males in the match made it back to their feet, continuing to pound away. Crawford set up for a 12 Gauge on Vasquez, but a kick to the stomach from Bonn free'd Dubba-V and together they hit the Shotgun with a legsweep-clothesline combination. The team- up was inadvertent though, as Vasquez clipped Bonn with the Flip, Flop and Fly series in the corner, and tried to follow things with the Saddle Breaker.] DR: Dubba-V with the Saddl- STILLDIVE! BONN HIT THE STILLDIVE... ONE! TWO! THREE! It's over! [Shinedown hits the speakers as the bell rings, and all six exhausted combatants collapse if they haven't already.] DH: Here are your winners of the 2010 Blind Date Tournament... THE TEAM OF "NIGHTHAAAAAAAAAAAWK" MICHAEEEEEEEEEL BONNNNNNNNN AND FELLLLLLLICITYYYYYYYYYYYYY MAAAAAAAAAAAAAALOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE! [Felicity rolls from the ring, exhausted but triumphant as she raises her arms in victory as the sounds of "Fly From The Inside" play over the PA system. Soon afterwards Bonn joins her, enjoying the moment and hugging his partner before he stops and composes himself.] Skullhead: Bonn and Felicity make one hell of a team, and they've proven it tonight by winning this team-building exercise. AM: They pick up the cash prize and trophy for winning tonight, I wonder who'll get to keep it? SS: The cash is probably straight out of Juan Vasquez's paycheck. [Upon being presented with the giant trophy, the winners head to the back to a loud chorus of cheers. Passing by them is a new stream of masked security guards, which makes its way down the aisle to flood the ringside area. Surrounded by an additional dozen men in black riot gear, Gamma Ray contemptuously strolls towards the ring as the New York fans boo as loudly as they can.] AM: Gamma Ray, _AGAIN?_ DR: Did we travel back in time to Gold Rush? SS: There can never be too much Irradiated One. AM: One Gamma Ray appearance is one too many, if you ask me. [The numberless, dystopian Guard storm the ring, forcibly shoving out any wrestler foolish enough to stick around, and encircle one Vinnie Vasquez. He, in turn, is foolhardy enough to dare the Guard to come at him.] AM: Surprise, surprise. Sour grapes from Gamma Ray. SS: Sometimes, people need to be taught a lesson. A matter of principle. DR: Vinnie Vasquez won their first round match, and it looks like the Irradiated One is a bit of a sore loser. AM: Gamma Ray only wants some petty revenge, Sam. What kind of principle is that? SS: It's as valid as any other! [One of the Guard lunges at Vasquez, and he runs into a hip toss. Another follows suit and Dubba V greets him with a Lariat! POP! A third tries his luck and, armed with a billy club, swings at the tough Californian. Vasquez ducks, grabs the Guard's arm, disarms him, then propels him over the top rope and out of the ring. When Vinnie starts wildly swinging his newly acquired nightstick, the masked thugs surrounding him step back hesitantly. The fans are fully supporting Dubba V as the men in the ring reach a tense stand-off.] AM: Ha! Vinnie has a weapon, too. How does the Guard like those apples? SS: He's only delaying the inevitable, Amy. There is no escape for Vasquez. The ring is completely surrounded. The whole roster would have to unite to face the Guard on an equal footing. Even if he takes a few of them down, Vinnie Vasquez can't beat them all. No one could. [A new wave of Guards tries to take down Vasquez in pairs and, again, the Uniondale fans come alive with cheers when Dubba V beats down the first duo, and then the second! But then, the third wave's attack begins with a jet of mace to Vasquez's eyes, blinding the man. Like sharks smelling blood, the rest of the Guard forget their fears, and they all join in to kick at Vasquez when he's blinded and down. It's a deluge of nightsticks, a preposterous, overbearing twelve on one beating. The fans are appalled.] SS: See? I told you. It was inevitable. AM: It's disgusting. And now, Gamma Ray deems it safe enough to get in the ring. What a courageous superhero he is. I'm sure everyone is quite impressed with his valor. SS: I am indeed, Amy. He left nothing to chance, making sure the job would be done. AM: They're over a dozen against him, Sam! And Vinnie already wrestled _twice!_ [The fans boo as the Irradiated One parades in the ring, contemplating his thug's handy work. At this point, Vinnie Vasquez seems mostly unconscious, but every once in a while, if it looks like he's beginning to stir, a masked Guard steps forth to kick him back down to howling boos. Gamma Ray raises a microphone to his smirking lips.] GR: Had you paid attention to my instructional speech at the beginning of this show, Vasquez, you would have noticed I enlightened everyone about how things will work, henceforth, in the UWF. You would have heard me explain that the Guard is the judge, jury and executioner, around here. [He struts up to Vasquez, then places his boot on Vinnie's back, then turning to address the crowd.] GR: The Guard is the law, now. [Then, the Irradiated One crouches, and grabs Vasquez by the hair to lift his head.] GR: I had warned you, Vasquez, that you would not escape justice. Tonight, an example will be made of you, so that the unruly bastards hiding in the locker rooms know what happens when they break the laws the Guard enforces. [He disdainfully drops Vinnie's head.] GR: You, Vasquez, have been judged by a jury of your betters. You have been judged by the Guard. And you, Vasquez, have been found guilty of _unjustifiably_ assaulting a fellow wrestler, last week. [As the crowd boos, Gamma Ray crouches next to Dubba V's head again.] GR: And tonight, _justice_ will be served. [The Virtuous Vigilante takes the microphone, and bashes it down on Vasquez's cranium. __THWAACK!__] GR: And now, Vinnie Vasquez, meet your executioner. [One of the Guard steps forward, hoists Vinnie up and takes him crashing down to the mat with a devastating exploder suplex. HEEL POP! The Guard gets back to his feet and ominously stand over the unconscious Vasquez. He raises his hand and clutches his black mask. In a swift gesture, he pulls it off.] DR: IT'S OZ RIVERA! AM: Rivera is a part of this?? [The Uniondale crowd boos as Oz stomps on Vasquez, and a few of the Guard join in as Gamma Ray sardonically laughs at his misfortune. Jim Tunney struts down the aisle, enters the ring, and takes over the microphone from the Irradiated One. The chubby manager leans down close to Vasquez, smiling at the fallen grappler.] JT: Sur-PRISE, sur-PRISE! [Vinnie lunges for Tunney, only to catch a knee to the side of the head by stoic Oz Rivera for his troubles.] JT: Oh no, Vincent. I think we had quite enough of you putting your hands on me already for one year...I mean, did you REALLY think that I was going to let you get away with that? Did you honestly think that you could set whatever terms you wanted, run around messing up MY plans and not end up in a pool of your own blood? NO! You DIDN'T think! That's the point! [The crowd boos lustily as Vinnie struggles to his hands and knees, only to get punted in the ribs by Rivera. Deliberately, Oz picks up his foe, but before he can do anything, Vasquez elbows him in the face, sending him reeling backwards.] AM: Yes! Don't give up, Vinnie! [While Vinnie stumbles around due to palpable exhaustion, his sudden regeneration takes many of the nearby Guards by complete surprise. He clotheslines one straight over the top rope and out and manages to clean another's clock with a big boot to the masked face!] DR: Vasquez still has some fight in him! SS: Pointless. [But even as he back body drops another charging Guard, the man Vinnie really wants to put his hands on is obviously Oz Rivera. One by one, he decks the Guards that stand in his way, to protect Rivera and Tunney.] DR: But Gamma Ray strikes! AM: From behind! With a nightstick! SS: And once again the day is saved. [Brained and disoriented, Vasquez stumbles into Rivera's waiting arms. Oz locks on the Ozphyxiation, leaning back into the turnbuckle and holding the sleeper. As Vinnie's struggles wane, Tunney readjusts his collar before resuming his diatribe.] JT: You see, Vinnie? No one can stop the Guard, especially not you. So now you and everyone else in this miserable hell hole gets a front row seat while my clients...that's right..plural...while my CLIENTS finally get what they have coming to them. People like YOU keep managing to get deserving men... GREAT men like Gamma Ray... like Oz Rivera... you get them passed over, Vinnie. You get in good with the front office, you schmooze 'em with beer and your lame 'aw shucks' act, just like you do to these mouth breathers out here. You do all that and then leave them behind! Oz Rivera is an up and coming GREAT in this business. He's a machine. An animal! You're trying to get him turned into a joke...hell, the front office didn't even bother to put him into the Cupid's Revenger tournament this time! You've done everything you can to get him made into a mockery...well...now it's time for him to show you what happens when you threaten his livelihood...and just how far he's willing to go to get what's his. Oz, do something terrible to him! [Rivera lurches out of the corner with a semi-conscious Vinnie still locked into the Ozphyxiation, then arches his back, hitting a modified belly to back suplex out of the hold, and leaving Vinny lying with his legs up on the turnbuckle.] DR: NO! Oh my God! We're gonna need help out here! SS: Don't worry! Security is on hand to take care of the problem. AM: Security _is_ the problem! SS: This is genius! The Irradiated One and Tunney pulled off a coup, here tonight! [Proud of his man's handiwork, James Tunney hands the microphone back to Gamma Ray. The Virtuous Vigilante pats the manager's shoulder with prideful warmth, then raises the microphone to superciliously address the nearest camera.] GR: Did you think those trapped beneath your glass ceiling wouldn't unite, Lee? With the wise guidance of Jim Tunney, Oz Rivera and I did. We came together, and we are not alone. We are the new guard of wrestling, we are the future. None can stand in our path. Not Vasquez, not you. [He snarls at the camera, a malevolent look of spite flashing in his maroons eyes.] GR: The Guard has made its first demands, Lee. As I'm sure you'd like to see the safe return of your four precious title belts, you'll start taking them a little more seriously. As I suppose you'll want to spare others from the same fate as that of burdensome anchors like Vasquez, here, you'll want to meet our demands with greater diligence and assiduity. [Now close to the camera, the Irradiated One threateningly raises a finger towards the lens, then points at the bruised and bloody Vinnie Vasquez behind him, Oz Rivera menacingly looming over the hapless Californian.] GR: Heed this initial warning, Lee. Heed it as you pray. Pray that the Guard needs not send you another. [The image fades as the camera zooms in on the sole of Rivera's boot as it grinds Vasquez's bloodied face into the ring canvas. Fade to painful, bruised black.] |
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| DaveG | Mar 10 2010, 07:16 PM Post #5 |
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Bushido Brown
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A Simpsons reference during my match. I don't think it'll ever get better. |
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| Flouzemaker | Mar 10 2010, 07:56 PM Post #6 |
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The Luther Burger
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I feel I have to apologize... As Mike and/or Kyle omitted one of the segment from the show it might be that it feels like something's missing from the hour 2 Gamma Ray stuff. Well, it shouldn't be so bad, but there is a missing segment of Job Holly getting fired/kicked out of the Guard. Keep that in mind, and be forgiving, lol. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 08:01 PM Post #7 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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Wait...Job Holly already gets beat up in one segment. There's ANOTHER Job Holly segment? And ftr...Miyuki getting mentioned in a Tumaffi action description block? She's officially more legendary than Gaia Brasher now. Not that she wasn't already...but now it's official.
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| Flouzemaker | Mar 10 2010, 08:14 PM Post #8 |
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The Luther Burger
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Yes... there's a missing segment before the one where he gets beat up. Doesn't matter much, though. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 08:20 PM Post #9 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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Trey DaMann bribed Mike to leave that segment out. |
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| KliqerT | Mar 10 2010, 08:23 PM Post #10 |
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Doughy
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Wait, the first segment was supposed to go alongside the second one you sent in? Did not get that whatsoever, I thought the whole point of the piece with GR was to replace the other one, not wacky stack on top of it. Either way, I doubt very much anyone would describe the hour two Gamma Ray stuff as missing something :-) |
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| Flouzemaker | Mar 10 2010, 08:25 PM Post #11 |
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The Luther Burger
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I did say it was OK. It's just that GR talks like Holly has already been fired and was making a nuisance of himself outside the arena, begging to be admitted back into the group. But it's barely noticeable, so it's not nearly as weird as the Guard being completely misrepresented in the Cassell/Kinsey altercation, for instance. It just a really small omission, nothing major. Or... I think the Heaven's Hunted apology, just prior to the Martinez match... I think that was a rerun... That seems like a bigger blooper. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 08:32 PM Post #12 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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I'm going to say the Guard took a coffee break during Kinsey's rampage. or Oz Rivera fell on his back and couldn't get back up. You know, with all that "Vasquez" being thrown around in the ending segment, Juan might take it the wrong way and use his vast resources for good! Hmmm... [Next week...] Telecom: "Hello, angels." [Cut to a shot of International Incident] [in unison] "HI JUAN!" Now then, who would play Bosley...hmmm... |
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| Flouzemaker | Mar 10 2010, 08:35 PM Post #13 |
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The Luther Burger
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That's what they normally would have done - that or throw out Kinsey because he doesn't have a contract and he's a stale old "legend" and part of the UWF old boys club. What they would not have done is do humanizing things like... worriedly call over medics like they actually care about Gavin Cassel. So long as he doesn't die, the Guard doesn't give half a turd about Cassel... he doesn't even have a contract. Security's involvement in the whole segment made absolutely no sense... Again, not the end of the world. It's quite visible no one told Andy or yourself to make corrections... and you can't blame people for what they don't know! Still, it would probably be wise to write a few guide lines to help people not misrepresent the Guard in future. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 10 2010, 08:38 PM Post #14 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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Cassel wrestled on a house show and beat Tom Landis. He obviously had a contract. Or...Kyle Lee used all the money collected from Vasquez's fines to have a separate sneaky ninja force of medical staff. This is apparently a battle between Gamma Ray's resources and Juan Vasquez's laundered money. |
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| Flouzemaker | Mar 10 2010, 08:41 PM Post #15 |
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The Luther Burger
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Ah, true. Cassel had a contract, you're right. Ah, well... then they would have thrown out Kinsey as he's part of the enemy. As that would have been bothersome to the Vasquez-Kinsey feud, I would have avoided any security involvement altogether to avoid grotesque misrepresentation. |
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3:31 AM Jul 11