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| RAMPAGE BLOODY RAMPAGE 2/13/10 HOUR ONE; Only slightly late! | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 8 2010, 05:22 PM (1,285 Views) | |
| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 8 2010, 05:22 PM Post #1 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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[The Megatron stands silent, as if to express its disappointment. That or we have traveled back in time. We are in fact at the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum in Uniondale, New York and we are in fact in the main part of the venue well before any of the eager UWF and MBC fans have arrived or even been allowed into the building. There are, however, people sitting at ringside. Closer inspection reveals these men and women as the wrestlers and personnel of both federations. In the middle of the arena is of course the ring, still missing the skirt that customarily adorns it. It's early yet and the ring crew hasn't gotten that far, presumably kicked out by the man standing in the ring. UWF/MBC Owner and President Kyle Lee. He looks tired and perhaps a bit bitter. Whether that is normal, well, that's for history to decide. Standing nearby are his top two lieutenants, UWF Commissioner Allison Chambers and MBC Commissioner Becky-Carlisle Skullhead. Lee needs no microphone to express what he is here to say to these wrestlers.] KL: I suppose I should be happy that most of you decided to show up. I can see some noticeable absences, such as the Hand of Doom and the Industry of Hate. Show up. Don't show up. Either way. It just makes another dichotomy out of this situation that we don't really need. We already have MBC and UWF. We already have warriors and bastards, heroes and villains, content and disgruntled, monsters and slayers of monsters... [Lee stops and takes a deep breath. He obviously could go on with this tangent but there are things to cover.] KL: Listen, it doesn't matter what you are or how you feel. We all have to get along here with this merger. It's not going away. Whether one side doesn't get along with the other is of no consequence. This is what you must understand. And above all else, on the highest levels of comprehension, you need to realize that I will not let this merged company devolve into chaos. I worked my ass off and bled like crazy to end Marshall Law. And I'll be damned if I let things get to that point again. [Most of the UWF personnel erupt into hushed murmurs as they hear the two dirtiest words in UWF history: "Marshall Law."] KL: I understand there are hatreds amongst some of you. I understand that for the UWF side, your World Champion deceived you all... deceived _us_ all, faking a terminal illness just so he could get his shot at the gold. And now he prostrates himself as the big fish in the free agent sea. I should strip him of the title yes? I should. I could. But I won't. [And that doesn't make the UWF folk happy.] KL: But Trey... all this convoluted mess he went through to get what he wanted, it came down under the previous owners. It's their mess that unfortunately, I have to fix. And fix it I shall. But if any of you UWF people have learned anything about me, whether wrestling by my side or against me, it's that I don't do things the simple way. I do things _my_ way. There will be a lesson to be learned and Trey will learn it well. [Lee then turns his attention to the MBC side of the ring.] KL: And on the flipside, I understand the frustration the bastards of the MBC have. While your World Champion didn't fake cancer, he cost you your home so to speak. He took away your stability and altered your lives in a way you weren't prepared for. He is the man who willed his own home to burn. You must be asking yourself, what will he will upon you? I should strip him of the title. I should. I could. But I won't. Call me stubborn. Call me prideful. But Vengeance too has a lesson to learn. [Lee returns to center ring and catches his breath.] KL: The lesson you _all_ need to learn is that your World Champions are not the examples to follow. That should never be the case but it is. Look at your neighbors and ask yourself if they are the best examples to follow. Shall we look at last show as an example? Somebody simply showed up, brawled all over the arena and broke somebody's leg without remorse. That is simply not going to stand. The roster is filled with people who should be able to take care of themselves but when you gather your forces and premeditate the ending of somebody's career? [Lee looks at one specific person, sitting in the UWF section. Any guesses?] KL: Juan, I realize you hate everybody. And I have no doubt you hate me. In fact, you're about to hate me even more. I can't really fire you as much as many have called for it. Suspending you for what you did to Epstein just doesn't seem like enough. A suspension is nothing to you. But I can hurt you financially I think. Maybe I can chip away at that raw nerve of yours. Alex Epstein's medical expenses, all of them, are coming out of your next paycheck. In fact, anybody harmed during last show's brawl, will have their medical bills paid courtesy of you, Mr. Vazquez. Any property damage resulting from your wall to wall brawl will be repaired with a generous donation by you guessed it, you. And I hope they don't take the low bid on that estimate either. We'll take it the next step as well. All proceeds from your merchandise sales will go to various cancer charities instead of your pockets. And if that's not enough, well, don't expect any title shots any time soon. I'm not absent a dark side Juan. I understand your anger and your rage. But you attacked somebody on the UWF roster, _my_ roster. If only you had waited. DaMann wouldn't have been on the roster and you could have done anything you wanted. Cancer obviously didn't stop you. I wouldn't have to worry about it and anything you did to that son of a bitch would only be between you, him and God. [Murmurs come up again as Lee's anger is clearly showing through.] KL: Now, my intention here is not to endorse vigilantism. But I am clearly angry. I'm angry that people like Trey DaMann decide faking cancer is the best way to career advancement. I'm angry that people like John Vengeance go uninhibited in destroying the lives of so many people. Its vigilantism that made this place a nightmare during Marshall Law. Now we have "The Guard" walking around thinking they're judge, jury and executioner. They've taken championship gold that is rightfully the property of others. Unfortunately, I can't say that "The Guard" is a mess left by the old owners that I now have to deal with. This one came under the transition of ownership and was missed. Regardless, I will deal with them so that we don't have to worry about being attacked at a moment's notice. "The Guard" is not a jury, nor the judge nor the executioner. This has become a war on far too many fronts. But I'm not going to go into it uneducated. And neither should you. The lesson here is this. The war isn't being waged against the old owners. It's being waged against me. And in a war, no bastard is more inglorious than I am. [Fade away into the new opening sequence shared by both UWF and MBC wrestlers, "Sound of Madness" by Shinedown plays. Soon though it gives way to the opening graphics:] ________ __ __ ____ | ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ _____ _____ \ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___| \ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_ \ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _| \_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______ \_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\ ______ \_____/ | _ | __ ____ ____ _____ _ _ | |/ / / / / _ \ / _ \\ \ / \ / \ | _ \ / / / / / // / / // /\ \\ \/ / | |/ // /___/ /_/ // /_/ // /_/ / \ / |____//_____/\____/ \____//______/ | | ________ __ __ ____ | / | ___ \ ______ | \ / || _ \ ______ |/____ _____ \ \__| \ / ___ || \/ || | \ \ / ___ | / ___ \ | ___| \ __ // /___| || |\ /| || |_/ // /___| | / / /_/ | |_ \ \ \ \ \ ___ || | \/ |_|| __/ \ ___ || | ___ | _| \_\ \ \ \ \ | ||_| | | \ \ | || | |_ || |_______ \_\ \_\ |_| |_| \_\ |_| \ \___| ||_________\ \_____/ 02-13-10 Hour One [We mix through the logo like a modern day rapper ruining your favorite songs. Dissolve into the Nassau Veterans Memorial Coliseum where a crowd of almost 18,000 people are crammed in. Fans of both UWF and MBC are in representation tonight, with t-shirts and signs and placards too numerous to mention. A loud burst of pyrotechnic display really gets the crowd erupting, as over the top of it Billy "Scud" McKenzie greets the viewers. And that means you.] Scud: Long Island, New York, welcome to Rampage Bloody Rampage! We're ready to go! [Again the shot shifts over to the gigantic display that is the Megatron. Except unlike what we saw at the top of this show, it's anything but silent. Though it might still be disappointed, but you would be too if Starscream kept trying to usurp you. The pyro-related smoke begins to clear around the stage area, revealing the twin tunnel entrances meant for the two companies bound together by fate.] Scud: These are trying times for all of us, but Kyle Lee's message to the troops is loud and clear. Piss off. Moe Owens: Let's send you down to the Holy Trio, as it appears there's a situation brewing in the ring here. [But instead of heading up to the luxury boxes, we head down to the ring. Which isn't empty, as one would expect. Now another voice chimes in, that of UWF broadcaster Dave Rogers.] DR: Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, Nassau Coliseum in Long Island, New York and... Well, we'd do our usual introductions, folks, but as we aired the footage of Kyle Lee's address, Gamma Ray came to the ring. SS: He's just sitting on a chair, in the middle of the ring! AM: It begs the question... what does Gamma Ray want? [In the ring is the Virtuous Vigilante indeed, black mask, green cape, disheveled brown hair, a week's worth of dark stubble on his square jaw. Seated in the steel chair he brought to the ring, the self-proclaimed superhero seems meditative. Gamma Ray brings a microphone to his suddenly smiling lips.] GR: Finally, your favorite caped crusader has returned to his hometown state of New York! [There's a small hometown pop, but a prevalent sense of suspicion reigns.] GR: I had to come out here, amongst my Gamma Minions, to feel my people's vibe. Take America's pulse. And when you want to poll the will of the people, you come right here in Uniondale! [A bigger pop, now, though still quite modest.] GR: It seems to me that the World Champion we all thought we loved... turns out he's a pretty big prick, huh? [Now, there's no doubt the fans agree.] AM: I do believe that's the general consensus. SS: Nonsense. DaMann did what he had to. Of all people, Gamma Ray should know that! [The Irradiated One smiles as he rises from his chair.] GR: In fact, that Trey DaMann... turns out he's an evil bastard, isn't he? [The fan support for this line of thought only grows. Uniondale agrees, and they're not afraid to show their colors!] GR: And I've always been the kind of guy to think you need a man who's a bit of a jerk, a man who has a little bit of a mean streak... that's the kind of guy you need to take an evil bastard down a few pegs. [Pop!] DR: That's been Gamma Ray's stance from the very beginning, folks. AM: And frankly... I'm starting to see the appeal of that philosophy. That's the reason we cheer on guys like Serge Annis! SS: You poser. I'm an original! [Cardboard belt on his shoulder, the Irradiated One grins and points to the crowd in a circular motion.] GR: As all my Gamma Minions know, my friends... There was only one man who clearly saw the charade that was taking place. And now, I've got two choices. I can brag about it, and say "I told you so." [Hmm... The fans don't like that option very much.] GR: Or... I can take my Universal IOU Championship of the World... [He caresses his duct taped belt] ... and I can _DO_ something about it! [Now, some surprisingly strong cheers.] GR: So, I'm a little bit of a jerk, sometimes, but I'll tell you what. I'm upfront about it. I never claimed otherwise. I never lied to my Gamma Minions! SS: That's true, but... AM: You don't like the sound of truth anymore, Sam? GR: So I figure... I figure maybe I'm the kind of jerk you guys are looking for. Maybe this jerk is the superhero you need to save the day! [Pop!] GR: Maybe I can be the undefeated UWF wrestler that can rise up to the challenge. Maybe I can be the man that has not officially lost a singles match in over four years to step up to Trey DaMann, and tell him... "This will not stand!" [Bigger pop!] GR: Your Evil ends here, DaMann! [Even bigger pop!] GR: I will thwart your nefarious plot, I'll kick your dainty [BLEEP] and I'll take my World Heavyweight Championship! [Super-pop!!] GR: You know I can... oh... oh, what's this, now? DR: It's the Guard! AM: What do they want? [Clad in black riot gear from head to toe, the new UWF-MBC security guards, dozens of them, stream towards the ring, coalescing into one single, ominously oppressive entity.] DR: Already, countless numbers of this Guard are making their presence felt. SS: Well, it's about time someone came down to the ring to stop this nonsense! [Silently, the fully masked men encircle the ring, the fans booing their foreboding procession.] GR: Oh, that's how it's gonna be, huh? [As members of the dystopian security force scale the apron, Gamma Ray reaches for the steel chair he was sitting on earlier.] GR: A word to the wise, tough guys, SUPERHEROS DON'T GO DOWN EASY! [The fans pop and cheer as Gamma Ray drops the microphone to brandish his chair. The heavily padded security goons hesitate... none want to be the first to feel the impact of cold, hard steel on their head.] DR: And we've got a standstill! Who will act first? SS: It doesn't matter. It's one against... how many? Twenty five? Thirty? AM: Maybe so, but that one man has a chair! [Some of the Guards shuffle around... then a few step forth to create a new front line. Some have billy clubs, others have mace in their hand.] SS: The Guard came prepared, Amy! DR: This does not look good, folks. [A goon steps forward, and the fans hold their breath as Gamma Ray winds up for his first swing, and then... He drops the chair and pics the microphone back up.] GR: You stupid, stupid mother[BLEEP]. AM: What? GR: Why do you idiots fall for it every time? What kind of brainless, bleating herd of sheep are you? Don't you _ever_ learn? [And now, the New York fans vociferously boo.] DR: Oh, what a sick joke. [The dystopian Guards redeploy to protect the ring as the Irradiated One pats some of them on the back.] GR: I've warned you all that it would happen, and you never listened. You [BLEEP]ing morons always want to believe in fairy tales, and you blindly close your eyes to avoid seeing the truth. [The Uniondale spectators jeer. Clearly, they're still in denial.] GR: Get it through your microscopic little brains, [BLEEP]tards. Those "nice guys" you obtusely venerate... They're frauds, pretenders and fakes! They are _lying_ to you. Get it? Do you finally get it, now? [By the vociferous response he gets, it's obvious these fans still don't get it.] GR: Real heroes, like me, are [BLEEP]holes. Because only [BLEEP]holes are strong enough to take down Evil. The world doesn't get saved by weak- willed, mild-mannered little pussies, it never does. It gets saved by irascible misanthropes like myself. You can't do [BLEEP] in this world without a mean streak, you dip[BLEEP]s! The moment your Virtuous Vigilante turns meek is the moment America goes to the [BLEEP]s! [Really, you have to admire these fans' ability to stubbornly deny the truth.] SS: That's exactly what I've been trying to tell everyone for years but they just won't listen... AM: Because it's bull crap? SS: Keep telling yourself that, Amy. Keep digging your head in the sand. [The Irradiated One slowly begins pacing around the ring, weaving through members of the Guard as he disdainfully looks down upon the local crowd..] GR: First things first, you idiots have to realize who the real enemy is, because once again, you blindly refuse to see the truth for what it is. The enemy... is Kyle Lee! [The fans boo.] GR: Lee is the fraud that thinks he can buy his way to the wrestling hall of fame. He's the one feeding you the honey covered lies you so desperately want to hear. He's the one who just served you two big barrels of bull[BLEEP] in the vapid address he forced nearly everyone to endure. He's the one trying to infect the UWF with his MBC filth. He's the one who works day and night to make sure a hermetic, bullet-proof glass ceiling keeps the superb new talent down, and make sure his old boys' club is happy, maintaining the stale old faces of wretches like Annis, Kauffman, Epstein, Young, Osbourne, O'Connor, Whitecross, Rogers, Youth Gone Wild, and so on... and keep them on top, positions they have not deserved for YEARS! [The fans vehemently voice their disagreement.] GR: Through his plenipotentiary puppet, Alyson Chambers, Lee has maintained a staunch glass ceiling to make sure the same faces are in the same places year after year after year after year. Meanwhile, as all of my Gamma Minions saw, he blatantly forbade me, the most gifted wrestler in the universe, by far the most technically apt grappler of all time, the superhero that redefines in-ring perfection... he brazenly forbade me to use my well earned title shot at Gold Rush. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it; Gamma Ray should be your current World Heavyweight Champion. [The Uniondale fans now start to shower Gamma Ray and his Guard with detritus.] GR: There is no bigger proof of Lee's glass ceiling than that. You saw the lengths DaMann had to go through to circumvent that glass ceiling. Kyle Lee is wrestling's Lex Luthor, both petty and vindictive, corrupt and incompetent. His track record? Just look at the MBC. It's the sorriest excuse for a wrestling promotion I've ever seen. [The bastardites in the crowd strongly react to that offense!] Pinhead: Hey! That's not right! Tinkle: MEEP! Skullhead: Can he not see us? GR: So when I discovered Kyle Lee was intent on buying the UWF, I knew I had to act. And, it turns out, I already owned the solution. Over a year ago, I created a security company. In truth, it was just a way to deduct all of my superhero-related expenses when filing my taxes, but all the red tape had long been taken care of when Chambers started looking for a new security contract. I made sure my name was nowhere to be seen, and submitted a proposal that looked like it was much, much cheaper than any of the competition's and... what do you know? V. G. Lantey Security's contract was picked up by the UWF. [Gamma Ray wraps an arm around one of the Guards.] GR: Kyle Lee may own the place, but I own the security team. And my Guard is charged with a very important mission. AM: Oh, I can't wait to hear that. SS: Quiet! GR: The Guard... [Boos] is here to finally destroy Kyle Lee's glass ceiling once and for all. The Guard... [More boos] is here to usher in the new generation of wrestlers, and take out the hackneyed, tired old faces that makes up nearly all of the payroll. The Guard... [More jeers] is here to rid the UWF of the MBC virus that infects it. The Guard... [Still more boos] is here to put a definitive end to Kyle Lee's corrupt tyranny. [Uniondale fans don't like that.] GR: I assure you, however. The Guard will satisfy all of your security needs. You fans, you stupid, stupid fans... you'll be safe. I've always kept you dumb ingrates safe, and I won't stop now. And UWF wrestlers? They can expect even higher standards of protection than they've previously enjoyed. But the MBC [BLEEP]s? I recommend they stay home, as we don't want any their ilk around here. The MBC [BLEEP]tards should be grateful we so kindly tolerate their presence, and they best make themselves scarce if they don't want that to change. Skullhead: Isn't that good news. Pinhead: I can't say it is. But he'll find out that once a bastard, always a bastard. Slush: It can't be cured. Just like Herpes or Landisitis. Tinkle: MEEP! [Gamma Ray continues.] GR: But don't expect any of that Zero Tolerance here. Sometimes, the boys have a legitimate score to settle, and you've got to leave them a little bit of leeway. That's just how it is. But we will not let unjustified assaults and other heinous offenses go unpunished, let that be clear to all. You got that, Vasquez? [There's a rustle in the crowd at the mention of that name...] GR: Only one man has proved he has the foresight and judgment required to enact true justice. Me. Contrarily to what any one else may claim, the Guard *IS* Judge, Jury and Executioner. [He licks his lips and leers a self-satisfied smirk.] AM: In other words, he and his security team will only intervene when they feel like it! SS: It's worked out pretty well so far. AM: No, it hasn't, Sam. It hasn't! [Slowly, the Irradiated One extends his arm to point up to the entrance ramp.] GR: And then, remains the question of these... [A few more members of the Guard walk down the aisle, protectively carrying the stolen MBC and UWF title belts under the crowd's relentless heckling.] GR: ... These title belts... These four precious title belts... Due to... "security concerns"... we've had to *confiscate* them. I presume that Kyle Lee and the respective champions would probably like to have these back. And... they will. Kyle Lee doesn't have nearly as much control on his new UWF-toy as he thought he did. But if he does what I want him to do, I'm sure we, the Guard, will work much harder to dissipate all... "security concerns" involving these titles. Then, we'll gladly relinquish them to their distressed owners. Lee only has to do _exactly_ what I want. That's all. Easy as pie. [The Irradiated One sardonically grins.] GR: And now... you [BLEEP]ing dumbasses can sit back and enjoy the show. [Laughing, Gamma Ray drops the microphone and, surrounded by his countless goons in riot-gear, exits the ring and struts back up the entrance ramp, showered with loud jeers and boisterous boos.] DR: Things just keep getting worse and worse, here in the united UWF-MBC! AM: I can't believe it... SS: Worse? This is great news! We're in very capable hands, here. AM: ... How could anyone give that megalomaniac any kind of authority, any kind of power? DR: It was done quite unknowingly, it seems. SS: But it sure turned out for the best, though, didn't it? AM: It obviously did not, Sam. DR: Well as we try to process this new development, let's send things back up to our RBR hosts, Moe Owens and Billy "Scud" McKenzie. [And now at long last we head to a luxury box somewhere over the ringside area. Moe is dressed in more usual attire than last week's monkey suit, a pair of khaki pants and a black polo shirt with the UWF logo emblazoned on it. Scud however retains his "two sizes too big" look from last time.] MO: Wow, I can't believe Gamma Ray is the man behind the Guard! You can bet Kyle Lee's probably foaming at the mouth after seeing that. Scud: Didn't I warn you last time that hell was about to be unleashed? And since my warning we've got legs being broken, champions going AWOL, titles being held for blackmail. If Chris Courtade shows up or it starts raining blood, it's the apocalypse. MO: Who? You may have a point Scud, the transition to this working arrangement hasn't been the smoothest for either side. And tonight we have the annual Cupid's Revenge Blind Date Tournament, but with a twist this year. Kyle has made sure that all the random teams are comprised of one MBC employee and one from the UWF. Scud: So instead of getting a future title shot as a prize, it's a great big team building exercise. MO: Exactly. Scud: Koom-bay-ya, we're all dead. MO: For anyone who saw our Online Countdown to RBR, you already know some of the pairings in the tournament. You probably also know that these pairings were completely random, and in at least some cases could be explosions waiting to happen. Just before we send it back down to ringside for the start of the tournament, here's a look at another of the teams in contention. [The scene opens at Touch nightclub in New York. Music fills the air and patrons flock to the dance floor. But our camera lands on "The Shotgun" Stan Crawford, seated at the bar and with drink in hand. He wears a black suit on top of a black dress shirt and white tie. Standard mourning attire. There's a solemn expression on his face as he takes a downs a drink. He then turns to the bartender and requests another.] Voice: Drinking it away never works. Maybe short-term. But that's about it. Take it from someone that knows. [As the bartender slides him another drink, Stan turns to see Summer Blake, standing next to him. She's clad in a black, sequined, draped top and black slacks, completing the look with boots, a purse slung over her shoulder. Her black hair falls down her back in curls. She flashes Stan a smile before turning towards the bartender.] Summer: Ginger ale. [The bartender nods and fixes her drink.] Stan: Evening, Ms. Blake. Summer: Please, call me Summer. And a good evening to you, as well. Hope I didn't keep you long. Stan: Not at all. [The bartender hands the drink to Summer and she hands him a bill. The young woman then takes a sip, returning her attention to Stan.] Summer: So, what has you throwing ‘em back? [Summer leans against the bar, fixing her gaze on him.] Stan: In the locker room, when one of the younger guys has a problem, they usually come to me for advice. For guidance. I take pride in that. When an old guy likes me has a problem, he has nobody to turn to, except maybe Mr. Jack Daniel and his fine Tennessee whiskey. [Summer nods, a flash of sympathy and perhaps understanding in her eyes.] Stan: I've never doubted my abilities in the ring until the past several months. My toughness. My ability to overcome all the odds. Jerry Titus pretty much made a wreck of me in our Death Cycle series. I lost my title, and a chance at the World title, all in one awful night. Then I spent a few weeks licking my wounds in home, like an old broken down man. Summer: Yeah, I heard about that. And I'm really sorry. I can only imagine what you're going through. It wasn't that long ago that I was sorta in your situation myself. I had just beaten Donna Tetreault and won the North American Women's Championship, when this silly chick, Eveline Eriksen, comes out, attacks me, and steals my title. [Summer shakes her head.] Summer: I don't know what in the Hell she was thinking. I guess she thought that she could make a splash at my expense. Who knows? All I know is that I felt like [Meep] afterwards. But things turned around for me. Look at me now. I'm hitting one of New York's hottest clubs, with one of the MBC's best wrestlers, [smiles] while she's probably still in lock-up, fending off the advances of Big Bertha and ‘em. And the North American Women's Championship is back where it belongs, with me. [Summer takes another sip.] Summer: Of course, kicking her ass personally is still at the top of my "Things To Do Before I Die" list. But I'll take what I can get. For now. [She places a hand on Stan's arm.] Summer: And that's what Cupid's Revenge can be for you, the chance to turn things around. Stan: Can I turn things around? That's the question. It would be nice to be on the winning side of things. I'm so beat up, I'd hate to be an anchor around your neck. You're a young kid. What are you going to get out of a guy like me? [Summer eyes him in disbelief.] Summer: A guy like you? We don't know each other well, Stan, but I am definitely aware of your reputation. Aren't you like a three time Smash Bash Crucify Champion? Stan: Four time. Summer: That's my point. Proof that you're definitely no slouch in the fighting or toughness department. Your past speaks for itself. All you experienced is a temporary set-back. And you can prove that to all of the critics and haters by tearing down the house at Cupid's Revenge. And I'll be there with you, every step of the way. You can count on that. Stan: And what do you get out of all of this? Summer: Other than the satisfaction of helping a good man? [grins] Well, cash is always nice. And there are a pair of Louboutins that have been calling my name since December. So, you know that I'm definitely a partner that you can trust, because God help the man or woman that tries to come between me and my shoes! [The two of them laugh.] Summer: But seriously, I look forward to working with you. And think that we have a chance to really win this thing. Stan: I like you. You're honest. Not many people would care about the feelings of a guy like me. Plus, you seem to enjoy kicking ass as much as I do. Summer: I'll drink to that. Stan: I'm in. I can't promise you that you'll get the same Stan Crawford of ten years ago, but you'll get everything that I have. I'm not sure when my last day in the ring is going to be, I might as well go out fighting. A partner like you won't hurt, either. [Fade, down to ringside as Nassau is buzzing over the latest odd couple to be revealed. Though we're not talking about Summer Blake and Stan Crawford, we're talking about the announcers ready to call this match: Amy Marshall, Slush and Pinhead.] Pinhead: We're back, and ready to begin the Blind Date Tournament! Slush: Settle down there Pinny, you're more wound up than usual. Been a while since you last got some? Pinhead: You're one to talk. I'm not the one relying on sexts to get me through the night. AM: And already I regret this decision. Stan Crawford and Summer Blake were just revealed as the latest team in the tournament, and their chances look as good as anyone else's. Slush: So would their porno that invariably followed that scene. AM: Good god, Slush. Pinhead: [quietly] I'd buy it. [clears throat] Ahem, for journalistic purposes of course. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Mike Beeby |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage BLIND DATE TOURNAMENT 2010 - ROUND ONE: "Dead End" Derek Martin & Jan Delgado versus Summer Blake & "Shotgun" Stan Crawford versus "Up All Night" Pablo O'Connor & "The Seductress" Holly Hotbody ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [One by one each of the makeshift teams emerged from the locker rooms. Martin and Delgado entered separately, on different pages right away while Summer Blake and Stan Crawford entered together to "Hey Man, Nice Shot" by Filter. And last but not least, Holly Hotbody and her Queen's Court entered last. Trailing behind the procession was Pablo O'Connor, Holly's partner for the night.] Pinhead: That's weird, I don't see Stephanie Delacroix with her husband. Slush: Trouble in Paradise, heh heh. AM: Actually I talked to Pablo earlier tonight, Stephanie's feeling a little under the weather thanks to that pretzel from the Styx Carnival. Slush: Trouble in Esophagus, heh heh. [The match began with a chaotic fistfight, Crawford and Martin taking an instant dislike to one another as Jan and Holly renewed their heated family rivalry as well. Pablo and Summer, the odd ones out, tried to help their respective partners and gave them 2 on 1 advantages. Martin absorbed heavy damage from Stan as Summer tried to hold his arms behind his back, but a kick to the stomach slowed Crawford down and Derek caught the UWF Women's North American Champion with a side slam that curled the brunette up into a ball on the canvas. On the other side of the ring Holly took great delight in abusing her cousin, slapping her in the face while O'Connor kept Jan at bay. Sending her forward into an uppercut let Jan counter with a backslide, but Pablo responded by grabbing Jan and snaring her into a small package, gaining a two and three quarters count before she was able to break the pin.] Slush: Wait a minute, you mean you can legally cop a feel in these things? Why wasn't I invited to participate? AM: After the stunt you pulled on Taylor McKenzie last year I doubt very much Kyle's going to let you within ten feet of any woman on either roster. Slush: You see the way she dresses, she was asking for it! [Holly grabbed Jan by the hair and continued to abuse her after trapping her in one of the corners, as O'Connor crossed the ring and made a beeline to nail Martin with a flying forearm. He peppered Martin with more hit and run style tactics until being caught mid-bodypress, at which point Holly rushed over and dropkicked Pablo on top of Derek for a quick two count, ended as Martin kicked out. Crawford took over, pummeling Pablo with a spinebuster slam for a near fall of his own. Ducking a clothesline, Pablo sent Stan over the ropes with a huge backdrop. After following up by sending a charging Martin out the same way the smallest male in the match gestured to his partner and Holly released her grasp on Jan's throat to be gorilla pressed high over Pablo's head... and he tossed her over the top onto both Crawford and Derek Martin, the Seductress knocking down the two men like bowling pins!] Pinhead: Not the first time Holly's put a couple of guys on the floor, and probably not the last either. Slush: Just what are you saying?!? AM: He's calling her a slut. Slush: BURN FOR THOSE SLANDEROUS WORDS! [Holly rolled to her feet and celebrated with another shimmy for the crowd as back in the ring, Pablo left himself open with his back turned to Blake and Delgado. Summer and Jan looked at each other and nodded, before Jan dropped to her hands and knees behind POC and Summer bounced off the ropes and caught him with a surprise clothesline... sending Pablo crashing to the mat with both ladies attempting a pinfall. It failed when Summer and Jan both broke the count to battle each other again, as Holly was escorted back into the ring by Brawn in time to try a rollup on Blake.] AM: One! TWO! NO! Holly's about ready to pitch a fit over the count, but it was only a two count. Slush: The Queen demands better, and deserves better! [Both ladies rose up and started at one another, but a double clothesline from Jan knocked them both to the mat. Pablo in the meantime hurled himself over the ropes to try and again flatten Derek and Stan, but sadly this time they caught the aerial wrestler in midair and in the only time they'd ever join forces, nearly broke O'Connor in half by ramming him spine-first into the ringpost! As Pablo writhed in pain on the floor Crawford blasted Martin in the head and rolled him into the ring, following after to try and get a cover. But Derek escaped the pin attempt and soon they were again throwing punches at one another in the corner.] Pinhead: Holly and Pablo seemed like they were on a clear path to the finals, but now that they've been split up it's anybody's match now. Slush: Oh Pablo'll be up all night, begging the nurses for painkillers. Pinhead: That's not at all where I expected you to go with that joke. AM: We get it already, Holly's a slut. Get some new material, Pinhead. Slush: YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH. [Blake and Delgado began to double up on Holly, much to the chagrin of Brawn and Georgia on the outside. Satellite headscissors allowed Jan to fling a woozy Hotbody into the ropes where she collapsed through them to the outside apron, and a legsweep by Summer knocked her off the apron altogether.] AM: One team's been completely dispatched from the ring, Summer and Stan now battling Jan and Derek as a straight tag team match! Pinhead: If it's between those two teams, I like Stan and Summer's odds against a team that can barely stand each other. [The four remaining wrestlers inside the ring went for broke, as Jan attempted the Whippersnapper, but Summer broke her grasp and caught Delgado with the Blake Bomb instead. A sure pinfall was broken by Martin who grabbed Summer by the legs and pulled her off of Jan, but Crawford retaliated with a big boot that flattened Martin. Meanwhile on the floor, the team of Hotbody and O'Connor regrouped, watching as the other four competitors duked it out.] Pinhead: Hold on now, it looks like we're back to a three team race. Holly's up, so is Pablo. Slush: Hallelujah, she is risen! [Interjecting themselves back into the match O'Connor rolled into the ring and scooped his partner up over the ropes in an atomic drop style move and spun around suddenly, Holly's legs clipping an already dazed Delgado in the head and knocking her senseless to the mat. One by one they took each of their opponents down the same way, including a double face stomp that sent Martin through the ropes to the floor. Pablo finally tossed Hotbody onto Jan with a cross bodypress for another pin attempt, but her cousin gamely kicked out again just before the three count. Further punishing Jan with the Hotspot, Holly prepared to end the match but turned around and was met with a huge dropkick square in the chin from Summer.] Slush: NOT IN THE FACE! [Rattling the MBC Women's Champion, Blake set up to hit her with a shining wizard only for O'Connor to dive in front and take the kick in the temple, sparing his partner. Unfortunately for Pablo the shot left him woozy, and Crawford made short work of him with the 12 Gauge. Three seconds later, and despite a final desperate lunge from Martin to break the count, the match was over.] DH: Here are your winners... THE TEAM OF SUMMERRRRRRR BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE AND "SHOTGUUUUUUUUUN" STAAAAAAAAAN CRRRRRRRAWFOOOOOOOOOOORRRRD! [As "Trouble" blared over the PA system a jubilant Summer threw her arms around Stan Crawford, celebrating their victory while at the same time an enraged Holly screamed at the semi-conscious form of her partner before storming off.] AM: There's the first team to break through to the finals of the Blind Date Tournament, Summer Blake and "Shotgun" Stan Crawford! Two more teams will join them, but for right now Summer and Stan can sit back and watch how the rest of this night unfolds. Slush: Hey, anything that leads to more porn is okay by me! I smell victory sex. Pinhead: I don't know which part of that statement is more disgusting. AM: Well we're going to regroup here for the next tournament match, so let's go to... uh oh. Pinhead: What? AM: After Slush and all of his porn talk, this is terrible timing. [sighs] Let's catch up with Eveline Eriksen. Slush: SCORE! VO: Enter the female jungle of women's prison S.W.E.D.E.N; a seething hell of steel and stone where bodies behind bars ache with hunger for a man – any man... maybe even you! [Really?] VO: Hidden Deep beneath the Swedish Embassy, where caged passions ignite in carnal confinement and explode into violence... [... Especially when it's the SHOWER SCENE!!! W00t-w00t! Camera pans to reveal showering babe after showering babe! Unluckily, the shot is framed just above their waist lines, but they're definitely topless. Sure, all of the first girls either had their back turned or were conveniently soaping up their boobage, but we'll totally get some nipplage action for sure. What are the odds of panning to see naked woman after naked woman and not see a single actual boob? They're astronomical! A million to one. If we don't get to see any of the good stuff, might as well stock up on lottery tickets because we're defying the odds.] Angry woman's voice: Take that, dumb [MEEP]! [And... yeah. We're done panning through the prison shower, and we've seen are wet spines! Teases! You're in prison! Among other women! What are you shy about? No one's watching! Well... just pretend no one's watching.] Angry woman's voice: Next time, you show proper respect, freak! [Instead, we now see an angry female inmate, unfortunately dressed in the tight, tiny white camisole-prison uniform. But, at least, the faithful pimply teens of America get to see gravity at work as this angry woman animatedly stomps on a curled up girl in this braless world.] Angry woman: Now, you just make sure you get out of my way, next time! [And suddenly, Eveline Eriksen, exiting the showers herself, bumps into the aggressive bully.] Angry woman: Hey! You watch where you're going, [MEEP]! EE: No, _you_ watch where you're going, kjerring. Angry woman: I didn't even go anywhere! EE: So you figured out what your mistake was, huh? Angry woman: That's it, I'm kicking yo- [But the angry woman is quickly interrupted by Eveline's sucker punch and kick to the gut combo. The Viking Vixen then promptly scoops up her antagonist as if to powerslam her, but instead, she takes two steps forth, jumps and slams her head into the concrete with her 'Viking Hammer." It's safe to say someone's not getting back to her feet for a good while. The other imprisoned women who had gathered around in their various degrees of dampness scatter away. From the floor, a weak little voice:] Girl: You... you saved me! EE: I didn't save you. That other idiot got in my way. Girl: No one ever stood up for me before... EE: Just a coincidence, so don't get used to it. Girl: I knew I'd find a friend! EE: Hold on, now, don't put the carriage in front of... [Eveline goes silent. It's the girl. As she got to her feet, she just kept on rising and unfurling. Now... she stands easily over a foot above Eveline, who is nearly six feet herself. She has a foot over Eveline despite being hunched over in prudish modesty, trying to hide with her big meaty hands anything she might not want to show. Not that most would really want to see...] EE: ... Girl: My name is Lilly, what's your name? EE: ... You... you're huge... [Lilly? Who names a giant Lilly? Wait a second... This woman... Isn't that the giantess that had auditioned as Gamma Ray's new sidekick? Looks like it... In any case, she hunches over a little more, melting by about three inches.] Lilly: I'm not that huge... EE: ... You're a mutant... Lilly: No. I'm not. Acromegaly is a disease, but I don't have it anymore, I'm just like everyone else. EE: ... Why are you not in a sideshow circus? Lilly: Um, well, I was shopping at IKEA, and I was trying out one of their sofas and it sort of broke, and then, and then they sort of whisked me over here I'm not sure why... EE: How.... How tall are you, exactly? Lilly: About seven feet. EE: Feet? What's is it with you dumb Americans and your dumber imperial system? Use the metric system like every other logical and civilized human being, why don't you! Lilly: Oh, two meters and fourteen. EE: That's exactly thirty five centimeters over me! That's impossible! Lilly: Well, maybe I did the conversion wrong. I'm not so good with that metric stuff... Wow. I still can't believe I made another friend today! EE: No, no, don't get carried... Lilly: First, a girl asked to be moved to my cell, and now you... you save me? EE: ... away... What do you mean a girl asked to be moved to your cell? Lilly: Yes, there's a new inmate who insisted to move in with me. Isn't that nice? EE: Is... is your cell the really big one with the big bed? Lilly: Yeah! EE: Dritt! Pule, knulle, dritt! Nei, nei, NEI! Lilly: You speak German? It sounds angry... EE: It's Norwegian, and yes, I'm angry! That evil warden tricked me! Lilly: She's mean... EE: But that's alright. I won't have to tolerate you much longer, I'm should be getting out of here any minute, now. Lilly: Really? EE: Yes, really. My "Wallet" will make himself useful and get me out of here, he will. Lilly: You're lucky. I don't think I could ever get out of here... [Ah, dear freakishly tall Lilly the giantess, the audience can get out at will with a simple fade to black! Speaking of the devil... Fade. "This is Paula Valentino live outside a joint UWF/MBC event currently in progress, awaiting the arrival of New York's very own independent wrestling legend, Gaia "The Bullhead" Brasher. Sources close to the grappler have assured us that the grappler is planning to make her first appearance right here in her home state." [From black we fade into a side profile of the young blonde reporter standing in front of her cameraman, while various other reporters excitedly report the impending arrival. Suddenly, the crowd gets much more excited, as a charcoal Jeep Cherokee pulls into the lot.] PV: Oh my God, that's her! [As the Jeep pulls into a vacant parking spot, the mob swarms toward it. Mics raised, they clamor for a good view, readying a mad volley of questions. As the engine cuts off, a hush falls over the crowd in wait as the driver side door opens.] Mob: GAIA! MISSES BRASHER! WHAT ARE YOU-WHERE HAVE YOU-HAVE YOU BEEN-IS THE UWF---?! [Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on greatness. Forget "New York's Finest", this is "New York's Legend". Gaia "Bullhead" Brasher. At forty years old, Brasher is still every bit as beautiful as she was twenty years ago. Her naturally black hair is dyed a rich, chocolatey brown, and gently highlighted with blonde. Her dark complexion carries no imperfections, and her brown eyes betray both wisdom and toughness. Gaia is dressed in a black leather jacket left unzipped, a creamy white top that offers a glimpse of cleavage while keeping her respectable, blue denim jeans, and black boots on her feet. A "Brasher Athletics" gym bag is slung over her right shoulder. With her free hand, Gaia calmly silences the crowd, a warm, friendly smile on her face.] GAIA: I'll answer your questions, but please, one at a time. [The mob goes nuts again, trying to assert themselves, before Gaia points out a random reporter.] RR1: Thank you Misses Brasher for taking the time to speak with us. You've stayed out of the TV lights all your career, so why join the UWF now? [Gaia seems to have expected this question, and is quite comfortable answering it.] GAIA: I have accomplished everything I set out to on the indy circuits; and stayed away from the politics of the big shows. Now, at my age, I'm not concerned about politics. I have proven for the past twenty odd years that I am more than capable of taking care of any problems that arise. Now I'm ready to give something back to the industry that has treated me so well. There's a lot of young talent in the UWF and MBC that could learn a great deal from me. And I'm sure I can show the veterans a few things that they didn't expect as well. [The crowd clamors for the next question, before Gaia points out Paula Valentino.] PV: The UWF/MBC is infamous for its controversy. How will you be dealing with that, and the pressures that go with it? [Gaia chuckles, amused by the question.] GAIA: You should know me better than that by now, Paula. The UWF/MBC is much like every other wrestling promotion out there, only bigger. There's controversy no matter where you go. It's a dog eat dog world. And the only way to survive, is to adapt, and to overcome. Besides... [She smiles again, though this is a more devious one.] GAIA: I'll be starting some of those controversies myself. One last question. [More clamoring. More pointing.] RR2: Where are your students? Will they be competing in ACW or Bastard Stampede? GAIA: I told them to wait in the truck for the time being. [Turning, Gaia signals to the SUV. The back doors slide open, and five young women climb out - forming a wall behind Gaia.] GAIA: But they're not ready for active competition yet. I need to kick their asses into shape some more. [Turning, she surveys the five women, before stepping towards one.] GAIA: Stand up straight. Act like a woman for God's sake. [She then moves to another.] GAIA: What did I tell you about chewing gum? Spit it out. Now! [She punches the girl in the face so hard that the gum flies from her mouth. Shaking her head, Gaia turns back to the assembled press with another smile on her face.] GAIA: Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. I have another interview to attend to inside. [The crowd tries to get her to answer another question, but Gaia moves off with her students following in tow. We follow her in, to find Moe Owens waiting just inside the door to greet her.] MO: Hello Misses Brasher, welcome to the UWF/MBC. I hope those reporters out there didn't give you a hard time. [Smiling some more, Gaia shakes her head.] GAIA: Not at all. They're only doing their jobs. MO: I saw that little incident with your student here. Was that really necessary? GAIA: [nodding] It was absolutely necessary. Shauna needs to learn that you have to make sacrafices if you want to be successful in this business. And in my experience, pain is a very effective teaching tool. She won't be chewing gum with a sore jaw and busted lip. MO: Can't say I agree with you, but I'm not exactly training wrestlers. Nevertheless, I know that your school is a big part of your life, but what are your goals in the UWF/MBC? [Letting her the bag slip from her shoulder, Gaia tosses it to one of her students, who clumsily catches it.] GAIA: For now I have one single goal. And it is the one that all wrestlers should have. I'm here to win the Women's World Championship? MO: Wow. Already? But... you just got here. How do you expect-- [Gaia cuts him off, knowing where he's going with this question.] GAIA: I don't expect anything, Moe. I'm not here to fall back on my many past accomplishments to make my way here. This business has been a part of my life since I was a baby. I know how it works, inside and out. Everyone has to start at the bottom in a new company, and I respect that. So I'll start at the bottom, and slowly but surely, I'll work my way up. It may take time, but sooner or later, I _will_ be the Women's World Champion. MO: What about the North American Women's Championship? GAIA: It's on my list of things to do as well. Maybe I'll pick it up and run with it for a while before winning the big gold. Both titles deserve the caliber and prestige that I bring. MO: you're certainly very confident. GAIA: Yes, but I'm also a realist. I'm a patient woman, but very, very driven. I've wrestled throughout this country and abroad, beaten men and women alike. So if at forty years old, you don't know what you're capable of, then it's time to hang up the unitard. MO: The UWF and MBC bring together some of the top women in professional wrestling. you're obviously one of them, but what are your thoughts on the competition? GAIA: Some of those women are at the top because they busted their asses, and did whatever it took to prove themselves the best. I respect that. Others... they got to the top by whining, manipulating, preening, seduction, and other less honorable methods. Talk is talk, but unless you can back it up, you're just a fraud. And there are plenty of those around here. Nevertheless, it doesn't matter who you are: veteran, rookie, badass, or chickensh[BLEEP]t... when you step in the ring with me, you better bring your best. Otherwise, you'll be tasting buckshot. Take my word for it. Because afterall... [A smirk now crawls across Gaia's lips, as her voice grows slightly more stern.] GAIA: Mother knows best. MO: She certainly does. Thank you once again, Gaia. And back to you guys at ringside. [Fade, to the opposite side of the arena from where the last broadcast team was and to the side normally occupied by the MBC team. For the moment however, it's Skullhead joined by David Rogers and Sam Steeley.] Skullhead: Well I'd like to say with some certainty that this match should go a lot smoother than the last. At least as far as announcing goes. DR: Well said. SS: That Eveline Eriksen, she's really hot. The new girl though, not so much. Tinkle: MEEP! SS: I don't care if you like them older, she's not hot! Skullhead: Great, now you can talk to the rodent too? DR: It must be a 'lack of brainwaves' thing. Let's- |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 8 2010, 05:23 PM Post #2 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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Skullhead: Let's hear from one of the teams in the next match. [Fade in to the lobby of the Marriott Hotel in Uniondale, New York. There, dressed up in a black sports coat with matching slacks and a white oxford shirt, is one half of the UWF Tag Team Champions "Nighthawk" Michael Bonn holding a bouquet of irises. All things considered, he cleans up rather nicely. The expression on his face, however, makes one think he's got an upcoming death sentence.] VO: I don't know about this... [Stepping into the scene is one Virginia St. Ursula. She frowns thoughtfully as she adjusts Michael's collar. A half-second later, she readjusts the collar back to what it was, fussing about like a mothe--] VSU: DON'T finish that statement! [ --well, just fussing about. Michael sighs.] BONN: Why couldn't Ryu be doing this instead? VSU: Because according to Becky Carlisle-Skullhead, there was an incident in Bismark involving Trice and a Super Soaker and now no woman on the MBC roster wants to be within fifty yards of Ryu unless there's a large, blunt object applied to the back of his head involved. [She smiles, albeit a touch forced.] Just be friendly and polite and it'll be over before you know it. [Is that advice for Michael or for you?] BONN: [concerned, he reaches out for her] Ginny, you are OK with this, right? [Now it's Ginny's turn to sigh. She looks over at Michael wistfully.] VSU: I know, I know. Guess I'm just nervous about everything. BONN: You're not the one going on the date. VSU: Heh. It's just-- [The two are cut off by the roar of motorcycle engines, which draw close and then are choked off. Michael and Virginia both look to the entrance, and in from the rotating door steps Rose Malone, dressed in her flame- embroidered motorcycle leathers, her long dirty blonde hair hanging down her back to her waist. Rose is not looking at them; instead, she's looking back through the door.] ROSE: Get in here! [A loud, but muffled response through the glass.] ROSE: The sooner you start this, the sooner it's over. [Another response, quieter.] ROSE: I think you look great. So will he. Come on. [Rose crosses her arms and waits, and the rotating door begins to move... ...in steps Felicity Malone, dressed in a way no one's ever seen before. Gone are the motorcycle leathers, the boots, the tanktop, the fingerless gloves. She is dressed instead in a shimmering backless royal blue evening gown that drapes nearly to the floor. Her hair--short, and usually untidy--is styled in a chic bob. A clutch purse finishes the ensemble. She is beautiful, though she would be moreso if she were not so clearly out of her element.] ROSE: [smiling] There we are. And your date is... [Rose turns around, spots Michael and Virginia, smiles guardedly and escorts Felicity to them. Felicity manages not to stumble in her heels.] ROSE: ...right here. Hello, I'm Rose Malone, Felicity's sister. [Rose offers one still-gloved hand to Virginia. She's still smiling, but her eyes are fixed on Michael in a coldly assessing glare. Felicity gives Michael a brief, sympathetic "stuck in this together, huh?" smile.] ROSE: And you must be... [Michael opens his mouth to respond, but...] VSU: [taking the offered hand] Virginia St. Ursula, Michael Bonn's manager. [Virginia eyes both Malones intently. Then, spying on Rose's glare on Bonn, she locks her own sharp stare onto her. Michael shifts uncomfortably.] BONN: Felicity? Nice to meet you. [He offers her the bouquet of irises, returning her sympathetic smile with one of his own.] These are for you-- VSU: [interrupting] I just want to assure you both that this is _strictly_ professional. Just something that promotes both of our respective organizations. That's _all_. [Michael winces with embarrassment, then mouths "Sorry" to Felicity Felicity takes the bouquet with a pleased smile, and opens her mouth to say something --] FELICITY: Tha-- ROSE: If you're his manager and this is strictly professional, then it's a good thing I brought a list of terms. [Felicity coughs quietly into her fist as Rose pulls a folded sheet of paper out of an inside coat pocket. She clears her throat and reads, stealing glances at Virginia. It's as if Michael isn't even there.] ROSE: First, Michael is to return Felicity -- *promptly* -- to this spot in three hours. That's fair time for dinner and a movie. [Virginia nods, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she assumes a demeanor of all business.] VSU: Fair enough. The following restaurants, however, are unacceptable: any "chain" restaurants including, but not limited to: Applebee's, Chili's. Olive Garden, and/or T.G.I. Friday's; any place that serves barbeque; any place with a drive-through window. Lobster or raw oysters in any form is off limits. BONN: But I wasn't-- [Virginia presses on, oblivious to her charge's protests. She shoots a cold glance towards Felicity.] VSU: The following movies are not allowed as viewing options: "Avatar", "Valentine's Day", "Dear John", "Crazy Heart" and/or anything by Roman Polanski. Soda, popcorn and/or candy are bought separately, not as something to share. [Michael looks like he wants to say something, then stops himself. Instead, he just sighs. His gaze darts over to Felicity, then pointedly over to the exit. Felicity opens her clutch purse carefully, and pulls out the top of her key ring, with a slight nod toward the door in return, indicating the motorcycle. She fixes her gaze on Virginia and Rose, and then sidesteps back half a foot. Virginia and Rose do not notice.] ROSE: Fair. In return, Michael is *not* to solicit Felicity's phone number. They must part ways in full view of both of us, with a firm handshake. And--this is very important--if he makes eye contact with any other woman, aged 18 to 35, while on the date, Felicity is allowed to suplex him. [Virginia's expression hardens for a brief second. Meanwhile, unseen by his manager and Rose, Michael nods slightly and also takes a step back towards the exit.] VSU: What about in the case of having to briefly deal with waitresses, cashiers or other service workers? ROSE: Three-point-five seconds, tops. VSU: All right...conversely, Felicity is also not to solicit Michael's phone number *or* e-mail address. Should, during the course of the night, she bring up any previous non-family men she's known in her life or does nothing to discourage the flirting of any other men aged 18 to 50 who may come into contact with them, Michael is allowed to dump any nearby beverage over her head. [Felicity takes another step.. and another... and once she's satisfied that Virginia and Rose aren't paying them any attention, she slips out the rotating door with Michael.] ROSE: But not an alcoholic beverage! Combined with the hair product she'd be a walking fire haz-- [The two are cut off by the roar of the motorcycle outside, and Rose snaps her head around when the motorcycle tears away from the hotel. She can't help but grin, just a little.] ROSE: Well... I guess they were eager to start. VSU: Heh. [Ginny finds herself chuckling a little as she shoots a warmer look towards Rose.] I guess now would be a bad time to mention Michael's never been on a motorcycle before... [Fade out on the far off cry of a man trying not to panic.] Skullhead: I think- DR: Michael Bonn and Felicity Malone as a tag team may be an unlikely duo, but not one I'd want to face. They're both known for hard-nosed attitudes, both are seasoned competitors. Now let's hear from another of the teams participating. [Fade in: We are at a karaoke bar... where it is and what it is called is not important. What is important... well, certainly important to the person we are about to mention... is "The American Idol" Amber Rogers is taking the stage at said karaoke bar. And she's brought along her guitar... she's happily strumming along and singing... but of course, it's Amber, so she has to change lyrics. We cut in just as she is finishing, so what song she performed in her own style isn't known... but given the way people are reacting, it wasn't a version they wanted to hear. Not that it matters to Amber. The time, 8:52pm is flashed on the bottom of the screen.] AR: Thank you, thank you... I truly love you all! You've been a wonderful audience. [And then, up comes one of the waitresses to get Amber's attention.] Waitress: Your guest has finally arrived. AR: You mean... my newest fan? Waitress: Well... if you want to call him that, that's your decision. I'm not certain if I would call him that, though. But you really should go see him now... I don't know enough about him personally, but I know him enough that he doesn't like to be kept waiting. [She motions over toward the entrance. Amber glances over, a giddy smile on her face... but one that seems to mask a bit of apprehension. For as we pan over to the entranceway, The Epitome of Evil Serge Annis has arrived. With his cold baby blue eyes, he scans the room searching for Rogers. He is dressed in a black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top and black dress pants. Truth be told, he actually looks quit dapper, despite the scowl on his face. Once he spots her, he takes in a deep breath before making his way over to the table.] SA: Amber Rogers? AR: [giddily] Yes! And you must be... Serge? [He runs his eyes up and down Miss Rogers, sizing her up and taking her in. He eventually lets out an audible sigh of contempt.] SA: Hrmph. Let's get this over with. [Without even contemplating the gentlemanly thing to do, Annis takes a seat at the table.] AR: So... I've been here keeping myself entertained by doing what I do best... entertain other people! [The screen dissolves to a little later on in the evening. The timestamp states 9:27 pm. Amber is still talking.] AR: ...and that's how I achieved my platinum success! [At this point, the waiter has served drinks. Amber is quick to take hers and have a quick sip... but it isn't long before she starts talking again.] AR: You know, I've always felt bad about how things turned out with my last partnership... it seems my Idolizers didn't get along well with... [9:51pm. Amber is still going a mile a minute. But when she stops to take a drink, Serge gets his words in.] SA: Did anyone ever tell you what I did to my last partner? [9:54pm. Silence since then. Amber is starting to sense that Serge isn't... how shall we say... her latest fan.] AR: Your fans didn't get along with his fans, too? [9:59pm. Is Serge just letting things sink in?] SA: ...I dunno, there is something about the smell of charred flesh that you just kind of get used to after a while... [10:09pm. Serge has had his say, far less time than Amber has been chattering. But even in that short time, Amber now definitely feels awkward.] AR: So, tell me... what are your musical tastes? [Annis is staring a hole through Rogers right now, his eyes have never looked more annoyed.] SA: I prefer Jewel... [10:16pm. Evidently, Serge admitting to his musical tastes has given Amber all the reason to talk about heres.] AR: ... and then I was telling my drummer, "No, there is no drum solo in Foolish Games" but no, he was insisting that he get his moment in the spotlight! I mean... I'm the star of Idol Chatter! [Dissolve to a little later on, timestamp 10:23pm. The camera is on Serge this time, and he is actually smiling! He is in the midst of a clearly amusing story.] SA: Ohh... heh. And get this. So his girlfriend, KK was just standing there on the glass, begging him to climb out and win the match. But they didn't know I had a sledgehammer in my hands... [The excitement on Serge's face as he recalls this story is frightening. Sickingly frightening.] SA: So right before he gets out, I go BOOOOOOM, and smash the glass floor out from underneath her. Oh man, did she fall fast, right into that Hell structure and sure enough, right on top of like four or five of those C4 mines. Oh there was smoke and dust everywhere, and then he... get this... He dives on in after her! Like he could save her or something. Oh God, what an idiot... So of course, I left the structure, win the match and that KK girl... well she never healed properly, all scarred and disfigured and the like... but despite all of that, she wanted nothing to do with him ever since... [Serge smiles and chuckles to himself, reaching for his glass of red wine. He takes a sip and leans back in his chair, fondly remembering...] SA: Sigh.... Good times, good times. [Realizing he got too caught up in his story, he finally looks back across the table.] SA: Oh, I'm sorry... what was the question again? Happiest moment of my life... Yeah, that's probably it. [The camera pans back across the table to Amber, her mouth dropped in shock and disgust. 10:50pm. The two have left the table, and are unbelievably up on stage. Amber is the midst of singing... and this time, getting the words correct. And likely with good reason, as the number happens to be a Jewel song.] AR: Put on my coat in the pouring rain. I saw a movie but it just wasn't the same. Cause it was happy and I was sad. And it made me miss you oh so bad. [And then, who only knows what's going on through her mind when she turns to her Cupid's Revenge partner...] AR: Take it Serge! [Annis glances down at the microphone in front of him, and then shoots a cold stare at Rogers.] SA: Are you for real?!? [With that he abruptly leaves the stage and takes a seat back at the table. 10:59pm. These two are still together? Wonders will never cease.] SA: Well that is your opinion. AR: All I'm saying is that if you are going to really make it in the music industry, you should play your own instrument! SA: Ugh. Lee must really hold a grudge if he decided to make you my partner... [11:03pm. Amber is sensing things aren't going well, but this isn't stopping her from expressing her opinion.] AR: You know, all you had to do was just sing a little? Heck, Slush was more than happy to be my guest vocalist! And the last time I had a partner, we were the Psycho Driver champions and we were quite good at it! What is it with you and how you treat your partners? Why even take part in an event where it all depends on how well you treat your partner? [Taking a moment to soak that all in, The Epitome of Evil appears to choose his words carefully...] SA: Why am I competing? Heh... I'm competing because Kyle Lee likes to hold a grudge. [He leans in closer to Amber.] SA: I'm competing because I welcome the opportunity to bring pain and destruction at any chance I get... [Despite a quiet, low tone, a brooding anger is apparent in his words.] SA: I am competing because there is an off-chance that Lee just might have a sense of humor enough to put us in a match against Tumaffi. [He sits back in the chair.] SA: But I will tell you this. I am not competing because I am looking for love and need to be set up on a blind date. As far as I am concerned, my contractual obligation has been fulfilled. This date is over. [Serge rises from his chair. Amber, sensing something may be afoot, is about to slide back in her chair. Surprisingly, The Epitome of Evil is kind enough to reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet. He fishes through it and leaves a wad of bills on the table, covering the dinner. He turns to leave, but stops. Glancing back at Amber, Serge leaves her with parting words of wisdom.] SA: Fate was kind to you Miss Rogers by pairing you and I together. You have a wonderful opportunity before you. If you want to win Cupid's Revenge, then it is yours, because you have me as your partner... With, or without you, I shall be victorious... The choice is yours. [He turns back towards the door.] SA: It was interesting getting to know you Amber... But let's never do this again. [With that, Annis makes his exit. The camera pans over to Rogers, who looks a bit surprised. After a few minutes, though, she stands up. The waiter approaches.] Waiter: Please tell me you aren't wanting to sing some more. AR: No... that will be all, thank you. [But as she departs, a slight smiles crosses her lips. Fade out.] SS: Amber Rogers, you're as lucky as you are great singer. Your partner is one in a million, it's clobberin' time! DR: Some things just don't change. And Sam Steeley's fanboy crush on Serge Annis is one of them. Skullhead: And people say _we're_ [meep]ed up. [As Randall Osbourne turns toward the entranceway, some gentle musical strands cue up over the PA system. The musical strands in question? Those from "Black Water" by The Doobie Brothers.] DR: I don't recognize that. Skullhead: I do, it's the Doobie Brothers. DR: Well of course, I recognize the song. But who does it belong to? [And then emerging from the entranceway would be a young woman who is dressed in what would be called unique attire... ...said attire would be overalls over a white shirt... and said woman is barefoot. She has brown hair that is quite unkempt, hanging a bit over her face, but not enough to cover the friendly smile on it. This could be only one woman.... ...Tamara Jackson, but you can call her Tommy, because everyone else does.] DR: MY GOD, THAT'S TAMARA JACKSON! SS: Who? DR: Tamara "Tommy" Jackson! Tommy's a well known competitor in the world of wrestling, but I thought she was retired! Skullhead: Tommy Jackson was the first ever Bastard Stampede Women's Champion, for starters. SS: Wait a minute, this chick's name is Tommy? Skullhead: Oh god, not this again. This is going to end with you spying on her in the shower isn't it, Sam? SS: Hopefully! [Jackson makes her way down the aisle, occassionally slapping hands with fans. As she gets to ringside, she takes the mic from the timekeeper's table before she enters the ring. She then turns to her partner for the night.] TJ: I must say, you were quite the gentleman... but you can tell Tawni not to worry. I understand she's yours. Or would that be... you are hers. [Osbourns just cracks a grin.] TJ: Now then... just what could have brought little ol' me to this company? Simple enough... I needed work and this is where they say the best scrappers in the biz come to get it on. And hey, just as long as I can enjoy the simple things in life... because the simple things are all that takes to keep me happy... I'm gonna be a happy camper. [A nod.] TJ: I will say, though, that when I spoke to Mr. Lee about which company I'd be part of, I told him I'm flexible. So you can just consider me a roster member of UWF and MBC. And the way I see it... it just means that many more to choose from when it comes time to get to some serious scrapping. [A grin.] TJ: Actually, I take that back... we can get to some serious scrapping right now. Won't that be fun? [She then leans through the ropes to hand the mic back to the attendant.] DR: Wow! Tommy Jackson's come to the UWF, this puts the tournament on its ear, who could have expected this? Skullhead: Actually, if you listened, she said she's working for both UWF _and_ MBC. And since she's teaming with Osbourne, that makes her an MBC representative tonight. SS: Well it doesn't matter, because Big Death is about to put a hurt on everyone in this match. DR: Big Death? SS: New nickname for Serge. DR: It's terrible. Skullhead: Finally, something we agree on. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage BLIND DATE TOURNAMENT 2010 - ROUND ONE: "The Epitome of Evil" Serge Annis & "The American Idol" Amber Rogers versus "Dark Horse" Randall Osbourne & Tamara "Tommy" Jackson versus "Nighthawk" Michael Bonn & Felicity Malone ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [Osbourne and Jackson watched their opponents head to the ring, and much like the earlier match not all teams were unified in their entrances. Amber Rogers came out quickly, followed by the explosions and flames that signify the Epitome of Evil's arrival while another sly grin on her face proved that Amber really did understand what kind of a benefit having a partner like Annis could be. And then came Michael Bonn and Felicity, out together to "Fly From The Inside" by Shinedown, each one staring down at the ring with emotionless fury.] SS: Boy, that musta been some date between those two. Neither one has the energy to smile or blink. Skullhead: Felicity isn't the type to smile. Ever. [Once all six wrestlers were standing in the ring, the referee called for the bell to start the last of the first round matches tonight and without hesitation Tommy Jackson went after Amber Rogers, blasting her with lefts and rights before knocking her into a corner and unleashing kick after kick to the midsection. Felicity interrupted with a wild shot to the spine though, and soon her and Jackson traded blows. The men similarly brawled at the top of the match, as Annis and Osbourne hammered away at each other while the smaller but more agile Bonn preferred to hit and run both of them, taking Osbourne down with a dropkick to the knee and trying to work the leg over. But Serge lifted Bonn up and hurled him across the ring with a big fallaway slam, and tried to score quickly with the Epitomizer only to be countered with a huracanrana.] DR: And Michael Bonn takes down Serge Annis! Can't keep him down for a cover though, Annis benchpresses him off. SS: You'll never keep him down! DR: Tell that to Tumaffi. [As Bonn did his best to keep Serge from rising, the partner of the Lethal Protector did her best to take the knees of both her foes out with a double chopblock to Felicity and Tommy when their backs were turned. Hitting a bevy of moves off the ropes let Amber score a couple of near falls, but each time she went to cover one of them, the other would break the attempt with a lunge. Rogers chopped Felicity into the corner and tried a cross corner whip, but found herself thrown out with a reverse of the move... and collided with Serge Annis! As Amber staggered from the high velocity meeting, Annis sneered and grabbed her by the throat, lifting Amber up off the mat!] Skullhead: Jesus, he's going to lay out his own partner! SS: That's my Serge! DR: NO! Annis spun Amber around and levelled Felicity Malone with a double kick to the head! And tosses her into the air! SENTON SPLASH! What a tremendous doubleteam move! [A loud pop from the crowd as Annis resumed fighting with the Dark Horse as Amber tried to hook Felicity's leg for the pin. Again the count was broken, this time by Michael Bonn who grabbed her by the leg and pulled her off as gently as possible. Rogers got up and swung wildly at Bonn who simply ducked out of the way, and Amber's lack of focus allowed Tommy Jackson to scoop her up for a bodyslam. Following up with a series of moves to the face, Tommy reared back and blasted Rogers with a trademark left hook, dropping Amber like a ton of bricks! Then as she went for the Tommy-Dog, Felicity made it back to her feet and cut her off with a chokehold drop to the mat. Osbourne got the better of Serge after ducking a lariat from the ropes and doubling him up for a backbreaker, then applying a rather large camel clutch. Bonn let him soften up the Epitome of Evil, opting to wait for the last second to drive a knee square into Osbourne's back. With both men slow to get up, Bonn went to work keeping them off-balance with further dropkicks and running elbows.] Skullhead: Two former world champions laying waste to each other, the irony that the two largest competitors entered in the tournament would face off in the first round. DR: Those champions aren't faring so well against the Nighthawk at the moment, however. [Bonn used a leg splint on Osbourne but couldn't hold it for very long, as Annis returned to his feet and blasted him in the skull with a wicked kick. He reached down and pulled Bonn up by the throat, but a rake of the eyes allowed Bonn to head straight to the top rope where he came off and slammed into Annis with a flying shoulderblock that knocked the 6'8 wrestler back to the mat again. Another pin attempt gained a near fall but nothing more, and Osbourne quickly hoisted the Nighthawk up into a powerbomb position only to be thwarted as Felicity kicked away at his legs, taking the knee out from under the Dark Horse and letting Bonn down much more gentle than intended. Serge returned to his feet and grabbed Bonn by the throat, but then so did Osbourne as they heaved the unified tag champion up into the air and drove him into the canvas with a thunderous double chokeslam!] SS: You're so finished, Bonn! Pin him Serge! Skullhead: I'd say his work's not finished just yet, he and Osbourne are getting into it again. Neither one appreciated the other horning in on that kill. [As Bonn laid motionless on the mat Osbourne and Annis unleashed hell onto one another, while across the ring Tommy Jackson looked to set Amber Rogers up for the Tommy-Kaze. Felicity lay in wait however and nearly took off Jackson's head with a lariat, then for good measure kicked her in the stomach and threw her from the ring. Amber tried a rollup for the win, but Felicity held onto the ropes and sat down, scoring the three count out of nowhere, before Annis and Osbourne realized what was going on.] DH: Here are your winners... THE TEAM OF "NIGHTHAWK" MICHAEL BOOOOONNNNNNNNN AND FEEEEELLLLLLLLLIIIIIIICITYYYYYYYYYY MAAAAALOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE! [Felicity is pulled to her feet by a still dazed Nighthawk, and they raise their arms in victory to a loud pop from the crowd! Osbourne rolls out of the ring, holding his head as Tommy Jackson joins him, patting him on the arm.] DR: Wow, that has to be considered an upset! Felicity and Bonn were collectively the smallest team in the match, but they'll be moving on to the finals. SS: After suffering the wrath of Annis, Bonn's not in any shape to fight later. Easy victory for one of the other teams in there. Skullhead: Don't get ahead of yourself. Felicity has a history of being on the winning side of things more often than not from her time in the Hand of Doom. And Bonn's _your_ unified tag champion. Why would you count him out? DR: Michael's also previously been a world cruiserweight champion on more than one occasion, he's not a stranger to success either. Whatever happens, the 2010 Blind Date finals are shaping up to be sensational. [We open to a shot of a mostly empty corridor in the backstage area of the Nassau Coliseum - a large sign on one wall reads "Home of the New York Islanders - 4 Time Stanley Cup Champions!", directly underneath which is a small catering table holding a coffee pot and a few well picked over plates of fresh fruit and baked goods. UWF official Scott Ingraham stands at the table, sipping on a cup of joe and just relaxing between his assigned matches. At the other end of the hallway, a stagehand leans over to push a large plywood crate down the hall towards the locker room, straining at the effort. A quick look at the side of the crate reveals that it contains, and I quote "Hate mail for Trey - batch 4 of 17". The camera doesn't follow as the crate of letters are taken out of the scene, and for a moment there seems to be no particular reason why we're looking in on this mundane scene of backstage life at a UWF event. Until, that is, a head cautiously pokes out of a men's room door, furtively looking up and down the hallway, seeing only one person - Ingraham - who is paying little attention. With the jackrabbit quick moves of a fugitive, the owner of that head pops out of the men's room into the relative safety of the hallway, and starts a mad dash towards a new perch of safety. The man whose head it is? Former UWF announcer Daniel Kidd. Kidd, no longer bandaged on his head, but still sporting a big scar just under the hairline, moves like a man being chased - as well he may be - looking to shoot right past an unsuspecting Ingraham towards a secondary locker room where he might hide out. For a time, his plan seems set to work, too - Ingraham is too engrossed in his jolt of caffeine to hear the scurrying footsteps behind him, which ends up literally being Kidd's downfall when, unawares, the referee takes a thoughtless step backwards to get a better look at a plaque posted on the wall in honour of Islanders great and Hockey Hall of Famer Mike Bossy. He shifts his foot back just as Kidd, not looking where he's going, is about to dash right behind him. Kidd, of course, strikes the heel of Ingraham and almost upends him, catching the ref by surprise and causing him to lose control of his styrofoam coffee cup and send the lukewarm brown liquid spilling all over the table and floor in front of him. Kidd by far gets the worse of the collision, though, going sprawling to the ground with a loud thump. As fast as he can he pulls himself back to his feet, hair and shirt disheveled from the fall, to see a surprised Scott Ingraham turn to him. Before Scott can say anything, Dan - panic written all over his face - interrupts him with a far too fast flow of apologies.] DK: Ingy, old friend, I'm so sorry! But you have to help me! [Ingraham raises a single eyebrow in surprise.] DK: I'm not supposed to be here, you know, even though it's totally unfair... you can't tell anyone you saw me here. Job Holly's after me... and that wouldn't normally be a problem, but he has all these security guards with him, and if they catch me, I get thrown out of the building. Imagine, me, tossed out like some derelict! It's totally unfair! But Scott... we've always been friends, right? [The skeptical look on Ingraham's face suggests he never though Dan treated him particularly well and wouldn't classify the two of them as anything close to "friends", but Dan in his haste and fear ignores these obvious clues.] DK: So you'll do me a big favour, right? Not tell anyone you saw me, and then I'll just be on my way! After that it shouldn't be so hard to avoid Job Holly. The guy's a real loser, right? Not the brightest bulb in the lighting store, now is he? Why, Job Holly is so stupid, he couldn't find his own arse with both hands and an torch! And the guy's ugly too! I'm pretty sure when Job was a baby, his mother used to hang a pork chop around his neck so the dog would play with him! For that matter, talk about a loser! What's his career win-loss record? He makes... [Suddenly, Dan stops, having at length noticed that Ingraham is no longer looking in the eye, and is instead looking at a spot just behind his shoulder and smirking.] DK: He's right behind me, isn't he? [We pan out a bit to notice that, indeed he is. And he's not alone. Behind a smug looking Job Holly stand three positively gigantic men in riot gear, none of them looking particularly friendly. Dan turns around slowly, hoping to assess the situation - and we can see from his crestfallen expression that even he knows he's been well and truly caught.] JH: Mr. Kidd. You are a persistent little troublemaker, aren't you? Did you not learn your lesson back in Toronto? Do you need my associates here to be a little... [Job makes a fist with his right hand as his smug grin gets, if you can believe it, even wider and harder.] JH: ...rougher? [Before Kidd can even begin trying to talk his way out of this, though, a voice from just out of the shot surprises everyone.] ??: Hold on a sec', I wanna talk to Danny. [Our ever alert camera operator quickly adjusts so we can see this interloper walking into the scene - and as soon as we make him out, we can hear the crowd out front in the Nassau Coliseum erupt into a surprised nostalgia pop, as UWF legend and former World Champion Brett Greene walks towards the scene, clad in an old Pride t-shirt and faded denim jeans. Around his neck sits a laminated guest pass, which he holds out for the view of the security men.] BG: Job, good to see ya pal. Not sure what the trouble is here... but I'm sure y'all will agree my papers are in fine order to be backstage. [Holly's personality does a quick 180 as he shifts away from Dan and his menacing, smug outlook to staring in wonder at Brett, deference and friendliness the order of the day.] JH: Oh, of course Brett! Mr. Lee himself told me you'd be here, maybe for a few shows, said you should have the run of the place. Said he had nothing but respect for your place in the history of the company. BG: Well, that's very kind of him to say, considerin' HIS place in the history and the present of this company. Did he also mention that I'd have a guest? [Job, not sure where this is going, shakes his head to show he didn't know that.] BG: An' did he tell you my guest should get the same treatment I did? [As the potential implications of what's going on here slowly dawn on Holly, he shakes his head again, but this time a bit glumly, as if he realizes his quarry might just slip away.] JH: I didn't hear that. BG: Well, let me put it this way... [At this Greene turns to Kidd, his former stablemate from years ago. Dan seems like he's been considering bolting this whole time, using Brett's arrival as a distraction, but sadly for him the security staff have been keeping a watchful eye during the whole exchange and are clearly ready to squash him like a bug if he tries.] BG: Dan, it's up to you. I can leave ya here with these kind gentlemen, or you can come with me... as my guest... because we've got some business to discuss. DK: Business? [Greene chuckles a bit.] BG: I'll tell ya what I got in mind soon enough. Now, are ya coming, or should I just leave ya here? [With a finely-tuned instinct for self preservation, Kidd practically bolts to Greene's side and the safety of his backstage pass, shaking and giggling with gleeful triumph as he does. Job Holly, for his part, slumps his shoulders in defeat, and his security guards - sensing the moment of tension passing - visibly relax just a bit from their posture of heightened alert. Only Scott Ingraham, forgotten in the moment, reacts to the main issue.] SI: What business could those two have to discuss? [A harsh, excessively bright light illuminates Kiora Donavon's visage. Faceless, inhumane and sinister Guards surround her, armed with clubs and protected by riot gear. Still, calmly sitting at a stark table in a drearier room, she remains poised and unperturbed. In the shadows, a caped man paces the room, quite clearly the self- proclaimed superhero and owner of the Guard, Gamma Ray. Suddenly, he stops and turns towards Kiora.] GR: You'll have to forgive my men's zealousness, Miss Donavon. The Guard takes all potential security threats very seriously. This room may not be the most romantic, but it is where truth is uncovered. I hope you understand, and are eager to cooperate. KD: Well eager wouldn't be the word that I'd choose but as I seem to have little choice in the matter... [Casually Kiora looks around at the Guard and quickly realizes that she's got very little chance of getting away, what with the riot gear and billy clubs and all. Not that she seemed ready to make a break for it, perhaps she was just familiarizing herself with her surroundings for future reference.] KD: Heck it's not the worse date I've ever been on, sure I'll cooperate. [Hearing her answer, the Irradiated One resumes his pacing in the darkness.] GR: Excellent. How long have you been a part of MBC, Miss Donavon? [The disdain in his voice is especially audible when he vocalizes Mighty Bastard Championship's initials.] KD: A little over two years now, if I'm not mistaken. GR: Interesting. And yet, you seem to maintain that you are not, in fact, one of Lee's subhuman pawns? [Kiora arches an eyebrow in annoyance at that particular question. Being a longtime Hand of Doom fan as well as a member in good standing of that organization, she's naturally unamused to be considered one of Lee's allies.] KD: First off, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that subhuman comment. Secondly, as a member of the Hand of Doom I've been working with a man who's been Kyle Lee's enemy pretty much since MBC was founded. Crimson abhors Kyle Lee, as do I. [The Virtuous Vigilante shifts.] GR: So... You submit that there are some courageous insurgents within MBC's very ranks, is that correct? KD: You could say that. Every single member of the Axis of Hate has feuded with Lee and his allies in the past, in fact Vengeance was the one who got Lee kicked out of his own hometown. Crimson has been trying to eliminate Lee for his entire career and aided Fatality's takeover of the organization back in the day. I honestly can't think of anybody who's caused Lee more grief. GR: To be frank, Miss Donavon, this... "Axis of Hate" you speak of, it doesn't sound like a particularly wholesome outfit. With such a name, one would assume the "Axis of Hate" is in fact Kyle Lee's own ill-begotten brainchild! KD: I can provide you with evidence to the contrary, if you like? [Though clearly annoyed at being considered an ally of Kyle Lee's, Kiora is managing to control her temper rather admirably. In fact rather then looking annoyed, she seems to have a conniving air about her as if she's sensing an opportunity.] KD: The truth is, as I've stated several times already, is that Crimson and Vengeance have been fighting Lee since the MBC was formed. They formed the Hand of Doom and the Industry of Hate specifically to fight Lee and formed the Axis of Hate simply to make their war against Lee more efficient. If you've got beef with Lee, they're on your side. GR: Brave men and women, not unlike the Boston Tea Party or New York's Sons of Liberty, akin to the Resistance fighting the fascist Nazi occupation? Indeed, I suppose it's likely other noble souls have seen Lee's true nature, and are ready to oppose his tyranny. But what has the Axis done to topple the Doomsayer's regime, recently? What will it do in the future? KD: Anything it can do, of course. [Seeing the way the conversation is turning, Kiora leans forward in her seat a bit as she looks at the Irradiated One. Having initially expected a beating when she was dragged here by the Guard, she now clearly recognizes the situation as the opportunity it is.] KD: We have no more interest in putting up with Lee's tyranny then you do, Gamma Ray. There are no lengths the Axis of Hate won't go to in order to eliminate him and anybody who works with him. Vengeance burned his Bowflex specifically to get Lee kicked out of Dallas and pretty much anyplace else in the US. GR: But isn't that what lead to the UWF's current deplorable predicament of being tainted henceforth by Lee's ownership? KD: An unfortunate and unforeseeable casualty, I assure you. But take me, for instance, I've been fighting tooth and nail to prevent two of Lee's staunchest allies from forcing gender segregation upon our workplace. The Loves spat on tradition and I stepped up to fight them for it. However, I think the question isn't what we are doing to topple Lee but rather what are you planning to do to topple Lee? [Gamma Ray suddenly stops pacing. Instead, he steps out of the shadows as his eyes light up excitedly.] GR: AH! That is the question, now isn't it? It's a multi-pronged plan of attack, Miss Donavon, for we can strike at more flanks than Lee can defend. First, we must repair the damage his incompetence and corruption have incurred; we shall shatter his glass ceiling and repatriate the World Heavy Weight Championship. The confiscated title belts will be of great value in achieving this goal. And then... Well... Those are cards I'd prefer keeping close to my chest. [Kiora pauses in thought a moment.] KD: Well... then how can we help? [Smirking, Gamma Ray leans over on the table and adopts a more convivial tone.] GR: You know what I love most about this situation, Miss Donavon? It's that Kyle Lee and the UWF-MBC fund the Guard themselves. They signed the contract and their hands are tied. I'm using Kyle Lee's own opulence against him. Evil does defeat itself. True poetic justice, so beautiful the righteousness of it brings a tear to my eye. Not right now, but in general. Unfortunately, there's a limit to the Guard's budget. [He shakes his head.] GR: When I think of all the great deeds we could accomplish with greater means... There have been a few unfortunate lapses in security coverage so far, and access to more capital would be a boon. Heck! I could get the Gamma Mobile repaired - Something happened to the hood, I don't know what, but it obliterated the front suspension in the process, and don't get me started on that clutch - What am I saying? I could get a _new_ Gamma Mobile! [Once again, he leans in towards Kiora.] GR: And the best part, we can have Kyle Lee himself increase our budget again! I am the defending Cupid's Revenge champion, Miss Donavon, and this year, a whole lot of money is on the line. Kyle Lee's money. I expect the Guard and the Axis of Hate could both accomplish prodigious feats with that purse, don't you think? [Kiora grins broadly, nodding as she does so. Clearly, she at least thinks Gamma Ray's plan has merit and she's probably already working on her pitch to Crimson concerning a possible alliance between the Guard and the AoH.] KD: I think I like the way you think Gamma Ray. At any rate, annoying Kyle Lee is always a good cause in my book, you have my full support. [Kiora pauses for a moment, then pulls a business card from her pocket.] KD: As a show of good faith, here's the number for my mechanic. He does good work so he should be able to repair the suspension on the Gamma Mobile. He's the one who put the ram prow and machine gun on my father's RV, after all. [Naturally Kiora gets weird looks from everybody present the moment she mentions the machine gun. In reply she looks almost sheepish.] KD: We have a permit for that. GR: ... KD: Honest! GR: Of course you do. [He looks around inclusively.] Anyone else up for some Chuck E. Cheese? [The lamp on the interrogation table is shut, plunging the room in darkness. Cut back to the arena, where Amy and Dave have been reunited. However, seated next to Amy isn't Sam Steeley. It's Slush.] AM: I must have been very bad in a previous life. Slush: You wanna be bad in this life too? [SLAP!] Slush: Daddy likes it rough. AM: Ugh. DR: Now this is a dynamic I'm a little more comfortable with. Alright, this makes the final opening round match in the Blind Date tournament. And as we just saw, Kiora Donovan has obviously been paired up with Gamma Ray. AM: Poor Kiora. Slush: How'd that goofball wind up with the spicy delight? DR: It's all random, Slush. But Gamma Ray may not be the worst partner to have, he did afterall win the tournament last year with Laura Davis. AM: Sure, everyone knows he's a great wrestler. He and Laura were last year's winners, and he and Kiora have a good shot this year. That doesn't change the fact that he's nauseating. _______ ________ _______ _______ ______ ______ | | | | | | ___|----------------------| | | __ \ | | | | | | | ___| WRITER: | | __ < ---| |_______|________|___| Chris Shill |__|_|__|______/______| Rampage Bloody Rampage Rampage Bloody Rampage BLIND DATE TOURNAMENT 2010 - ROUND ONE: Corvette & Damien "The Omen" Williams versus "Dubba-V" Vinnie Vasquez & Dalbello Rage versus Gamma Ray & Kiora Donovan ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [The lights went out as Musskorgy's “The Great Gate of Kiev” heralded the arrival of Dalbello Rage, and she didn't come to the ring alone. Along for the ride was Rage's partner for the night, Vinnie Vasquez.] AM: That's not the likeliest pair, you have to admit that much. DR: I don't think Vinnie would much appreciate Dalbello's attitude or tactics, but he'll probably respect her ability. Slush: He's just happy he didn't end up with Snookie Landis for his date. AM: Snookie Landis? Slush: Yeah, you know... She's real annoying, gets men to punch her face? DR: He's talking about Brianna, Amy. AM: Clever. A Jersey Shore fan. That explains a lot. [The odd couple conferred in the ring while Sierra Browne stepped out to ringside. Coincidentally, that's when “Code of the Road” by Danko Jones resounded. Accompanied by her manager Brad Collins, the lightning quick red-headed Corvette came out to uproarious cheers, and the pop only grew bigger when her partner, the Omen, followed her all the way to the ring.] Slush: Can someone explain why that ginger girl is heading for the ring alone? DR: Alone? He partner is the Omen, who's in televised competition for first time since the stunning revelations that took place at SplatterNad. AM: How did the family reunion go, Slush? Slush: What are you talking about? AM: I'm talking about your son, Slush. Slush: Is One Winged Angel here? DR: No, Amy's talking about the Omen. Slush: What? I didn't quite get that. Did you say why Corvette doesn't have a partner? Or is that Brad Collins guy going to come out of retirement? AM: She has a partner! Slush: Where? AM: Right there! In the ring! Your son! DR: ... The Omen. Slush: Is the MBC running out of male competitors? Sucks to be Corvette, all alone on Valentine's day. AM: [groans.] [Then, the famous a cappella melody of Queen's “Bohemian Rhapsody” echoed in the Uniondale Arena, but instead of seeing Kiora Donavon emerge on the stage, the New York fans saw faceless security members of the Guard file out in pairs like a parade of black Stormtroopers to secure the ringside area, stage, and the aisle bridging the two.] AM: Oh, great. Slush: Nice! We finally get some tighter security around here! DR: And it looks like the Guard is doubling their numbers around Brad Collins... AM: Those guys creep me out, and I don't like seeing them at ringside. Slush: They have to be there, otherwise fans could jump the barricade and attack the wrestlers. Would you rather want to see that? AM: I want our old security back. [By the time the Guard was done securing the ringside area, Kiora Donavon finally appeared on the stage, a good two minutes into her own theme song. Behind her came Gamma Ray and more dehumanized Guard members in riot gear protecting the rear. The pair made their way to the ring to a chorus of boos, but even the Irradiated One took little notice, as the task at hand was clearly of too much import.] DR: First pin or submission gets the win. This one is going to be as confusing as it will be exciting, folks. They're on separate teams, but you've got your technical marvels in Rage and Gamma Ray... AM: Donavon and “Dubba V” are representing the brawlers... Slush: And Corvette represents the girls that got stood up, probably because she has some deep rooted latent issues. AM: No, her team are the high flyers. Slush: But she's alone. DR: Her date is your son, the Omen. Slush: MEEP! ... What was that, Tinkle? AM: The hamster's not even here. Slush: MEEP! ... No, I don't know what they're talking about either, my bucktoothed friend. AM: [Groans.] This is going to be painful. DR: It could also get painful for Brad Collins, here! [Four masked members of the Guard finally surrounded Corvette's manager and dragged him to the back.] Slush: Even her manager's abandoning her. AM: You know Gamma Ray is behind this! Slush: Corvette will be alone and celibate forever, because the two dozen cats won't count. DR: Neither the Omen nor Corvette are liking this, but it's too late to do anything as the bell has rung and the match is underway! [Indeed, the bell rang to officially start the match, but most of the competitors were still under the shock of the forced removal of a vehemently protesting Brad Collins. Knowing who was responsible for that turn of events, both the Omen and Vinnie Vasquez honed in on Gamma Ray. He tried to run away, but he has nowhere to go as the fan favorites quickly flanked him and the Irradiated One looked like a bouncing ping pong ball as he got punched from one man to the other. Things didn't go any better for Corvette. Distraught and distracted by the Guard's removal of her manager, she made the mistake of turning her back to both Rage and Donavon. The two vicious women immediately ganged up on the Lilliputian ginger.] DR: Vasquez powerslams Gamma Ray hard, and the Omen follows with a senton! AM: And Donavon's already headbutting Corvette into oblivion! DR: With Rage right there to German Suplex the leftovers. [Dubba V and the Omen continued to merrily dismantle Gamma Ray as the MBC women did the same to the small Canadian gymnast. The crowd was put in a tough spot, tempted to cheer like crazy every time the Irradiated One got kicked and bulldogged, but just as ready to jeer the merciless assault of Corvette at the hands of Donavon and Rage.] Slush: MEEP! ... Good idea, Tinkle! If Corvette gets implants, maybe she won't be alone next year. AM: No, that's just wrong, Slush. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Implants don't... Tinkle's not even here! DR: Vasquez with a _huge_ running lariat on Gamma Ray, crushing him in the corner! AM: The “superhero” is out on his feet, and he faceplants on the mat! DR: The Omen running the ropes, and... OOH! [A member of the Guard discreetly pulled down the ropes, sending the Omen crashing over the ropes. Trying to keep up with six wrestlers, the referee didn't see it.] AM: I still can't believe that Gamma Ray's in charge of security in the UWF-MBC! DR: Hopefully, things won't degenerate into another Marshall Law... Slush: I don't see what's wrong with a superhero being in charge of security. Seems logical to me. AM: Of course it would seem logical to you. Need I remind you that he and his thugs stole four title belts, including the MBC World Championship? Slush: If they say there was a security threat, I'm inclined to believe them. [The fans reacted with boos when the Guard caused the Omen to crash out of the ring, but it didn't stop Vinnie Vasquez from trying to capitalize on an opportunity, and he hooked Gamma Ray's leg for a pin that was broken up by Donavon. Mercilessly double teaming Corvette didn't prevent Kiora from noticing what was afoot and she darted across the ring to stiffly kick Dubba-V's melon. In so doing, she gave Dalbello an opening to try and sneak a pin on Corvette with a bridging suplex. Rage got no more than a two count as Kiora got back just in time to prevent another pin with her dangerous feet.] DR: And Dalbello's taking offense to it. Slush: Few of the Rages appreciate getting kicked in the head. DR: Donavon's not's backing down. Instead, she chops Dalbello and the two women are not exchanging blows! Slush: MEEP! ... Wrong type of blows, Tinkle. [Meanwhile, Vasquez had never stopped pummeling Gamma Ray. After throwing him into the ropes and nearly beheading him with a big boot, Vinnie dropped an elbow and applied a lateral press for a two count. In the other corner, despite a slight size disadvantage, Kiora's martial arts knowledge had given her the edge in her brawl with Rage, edge that got decisive when she managed to strike Dalbello in the throat with a palm thrust. Rage grabbing her windpipe, Kiora turned and eye gouged Vasquez. Blinded, the Californian did not see The Omen climbing the ring post, nor did he see him leap off, but he sure felt the impact of the missile dropkick that sent him flying out of the ring!] Slush: Why did Vasquez throw himself out of the ring? AM: Your s- Slush: MEEP! AM: ...son kicked- Slush: MEEP!!! AM: ...him out. Slush: The winter Olympics are starting soon, did you know? [Meanwhile, Donavon took down Rage with a Cup-Choi haymaker, but only got a two count out of it when Corvette broke up the pin with a low dropkick to Kiora's head. She continued her offense with elbow strikes, then flipping off the ropes to crash back into Donavon with a vaulting body press. When Rage got back to her feet, Corvette was there to dropkick her knees and somersault leg drop her when downed. The smaller girl used her greater speed to dart between both Kiora and Dalbello, making sure to hand both of them their receipts.] DR: And now, the Omen with a “Mark of the Beast” curbstomp on Gamma Ray, and he goes for the cover! ONE! ... TWO! ... ... [The Irradiated One got a shoulder up, barely. The Omen didn't let Gamma Ray catch his breath, though, and he quickly resumed his offense. But when he tried to bounced off the ropes, one of the Guard was there to hook his leg, unbeknownst to the referee. When the Omen turned around, the Guard was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Vinnie Vasquez was there to reach up and guillotine the Omen on the top rope, then pull him out of the ring to take the fight to the outside, where “Dubba V” ended up whipping the Omen head first into the ring post.] DR: Look at Corvette! She springs off Dalbello's back to land a jumping ax kick on Kiora Donavon! AM: Corvette gives the fans their money's worth every time! Slush: And yet, she's alone on Valentine's day. DR: And the handspring hurricanranas Rage through the ropes and straight out of the ring. Slush: MEEP!! ... You're right, Tinkle. Men usually like fast women. Beats me why it doesn't seem to work out for her... [With Vasquez and the Omen brawling outside, the coast is clear for Vette. She hooks Donavon's leg and tries to get away with the pinfall...] DR: ONE! ... TWO!! ... ... THR- DR: No! AM: Oh, so close! DR: Gamma Ray getting into this match, gutwrench suplexing Corvette like a rag doll to interrupt the count. Slush: That's why his team will be moving on to the next round. He's the defending Cupid's Revenge winner and, unlike Corvette, he has a partner. And unlike Dalbello Rage, his partner is trustworthy. DR: Speaking of Vinnie Vasquez... [Gamma Ray didn't have time to do much before he walked straight into Dubba V's reverse atomic drop. As the superhero was clutching his inner thighs in pain, Vasquez followed with a powerful clothesline, then his signature “Flip-Flop-and-Fly” jab combo. But he had to stall his offense to shoulder block the Omen off the apron and down into the barricades. Meanwhile, after leveling the score with Kiora, Dalbello Rage had once again taken advantage of Corvette with a series of three back suplexes. Hooking Vette's leg, she went for the pinfall...] DR: ONE! ... TWO! ... ... THREE?? Vasquez broke the count! AM: And he turned into a Kiora Donavon superkick! Slush: That looks like it dislocated his jaw! [Vasquez stumbled into Gamma Ray's Irish Whip, and Vasquez bounced back to get Double Goozle'd off his feet. A Wishbone from the opposing team left him reeling in pain. Meanwhile, Donavon kicked Rage back to the canvas as she honed in on Corvette with... ] DR: The CLAW!! AM: On no! DR: Corvette's trying to fight it, but with all she had to endure, she's fading fast. AM: But here comes Dalbello Rage... She tackles them both and... DR: Ankle lock! Rage with an ankle lock on Corvette... And Kiora's claw is still applied! Slush: MEEP! AM: Stop impersonating a hamster, Slush. Slush: Tinkle wants to know who wins if Corvette taps. DR: Frankly, I don't know. [Meanwhile, Gamma Ray had been getting some revenge on Dubba V. After a reverse Gamma Clutch leg sweep, the Virtuous Vigilante took down the Californian with a ring shaking scoop brainbuster.] DR: Neutrino Bomb! Slush: Vasquez is out like Tom Cruise! AM: Tom Cruise isn't out... Slush: Soon, Amy, soon... DR: Gamma Ray hooks the leg and... ... ONE! ... ... TWO!! ... ... ... THREE!?? ... Slush: Why didn't the ref count to three? DR: The Omen broke the pin! Slush: There's no reason to stop counting, there. AM: Your son got back to... You know what? Forget it, Slush. Slush |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 8 2010, 05:24 PM Post #3 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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DR: She collapses atop Rage and here's the pin! ... ... ONE! ... ... ... TWO!! ... ... ... ... ... THREE! AM: She did it!! Slush: No she didn't! One of the Guard helpfully pointed out that Rage's leg was on the rope. AM: Because that Guard put it there! DR: Nevertheless, the referee's waving off the count, now calling it a two. AM: That damned Guard! Corvette had this won! [Kiora gets to her feet and charges at Corvette, but she deftly ducks and drop toe holds Donavon face first into the bottom turnbuckle. But, still hampered by the effects of the two submission holds, unable to further her offense, 'Vette took a moment to regain some energy. Meanwhile, Gamma Ray got to his feet to stalk the Omen. But when the son of Slush popped up , taken by surprise, the Irradiated One took fright and rolled out of the ring. The Omen chased him out around the ring, and when the superhero rolled back in on the other side, the man in the red mask found himself detained by the Guard. Inside the ring, Gamma Ray punted Corvette's head, then speared a rising Dalbello Rage. Satisfied with his work, the Irradiated One turned and walked right into Vinnie Vasquez' waiting arms!] DR: SADDLE BREAKER! This one's over, folks! AM: And Dubba V's adding insult to injury, doing that “Giddy Up” dance of right over Gamma Ray! The fans are going wild! Slush: He should be pinning him if you ask me. DR: And now Vasquez with the cover... ... ONE! ... ... ... TWO!! ... ... ... ... ... THR- DR: Gamma Ray kicks out! Slush: See? He wasted his time dancing, and he gave Gamma Ray the time he needed to recover. AM: He gave the Omen the same chance. [Just as Vasquez arose, the Omen welcomed him with a few stiff shots, then bounced off the ropes to propel Dubba V right out of the ring with a flying headscissors. Alone in the ring, the Omen picked-up Gamma Ray, hoisted him on his shoulders and... DR: 6 6 6! AM: This isn't Gamma Ray's night! Slush: MEEP!! ... I don't see anything either, Tinkle. I think this monitor's not working right. DR: The Omen hooking the leg, and here's the count... ONE! ... ... ... TWO!! ... ... ... ... ... ... THR- AM: NO! DR: Kiora Donavon saves the day with an elbow to the back of the Omen's head. [Donavon took hold of the Omen's masked head and pummeled it with well aimed knees and kicks before stepping back and punting Slush's son into Morpheus' embrace with her Lovely Violence! But Kiora couldn't do much more before Dalbello struck her from behind to then perform her trademark chain of three successive salto suplexes. Rage then applied a headscissors to Donavon.] DR: Triangle choke! Slush: I wouldn't expect to see Kiora tap anytime soon, though. AM: But here's Corvette with the save! DR: She moonsaults on them both! [Corvette then hopped up to the nearby second rope and did a second moonsault on the pile of women! And when she climbed up to the top rope for a third one... a woozy Gamma Ray stumbled into the ropes, accidentally knocking off Corvette and sending her crashing all the way out at ringside.] AM: Oh no! I hope she's OK! Slush: She was stood up on Valentine's Day, Amy. No matter what, the emotional scars will be worse than the physical hurt. DR: Slush, honestly... How long will you stay in denial about this? Slush: As long as it takes to make the bad things go away. [Speaking of the Omen, he found his way back into the match and drop kicked Gamma Ray. He grabbed him, and attempted a second 666.] DR: GAMMA RAY COUNTERS WITH THE IONIZER! AM: The Omen landed right on his head! [But Gamma Ray endured too much and only collapsed next to the knocked out Omen. Which is also when Vinnie Vasquez rolled back into the ring. He grabbed an exhausted Gamma Ray and powerbombed him over the top rope and straight out of the ring, into a group of masked Guard to a thunderous crowd pop!] DR: Woah! AM: I think that takes care of Gamma Ray and his Guard! DR: And now Vasquez is free to hook the Omen's leg for the cover! ONE! ... ... ... TWO!! ... ... ... ... ... THR-! DR: Kiora Donavon prevents yet another pin! AM: That was so close! [Donavon hit Vasquez with a flurry of rights and lefts. She then darted into the ropes and lunged at Dubba-V, but the Californian brawler ducked, and Kiora flew over the top rope, taking down two more members of the Guard at ringside in the process! Focusing back to the Omen, Vasquez looked to bounce off the ropes and land a running leg drop, but as he leaned into the cables, Corvette emerged to pull down on the ropes sending Dubba-V tumbling out of the squared circle!] DR: Corvette runs across the ring and springboards off the rope, vaulting into the last of the Guard and crashing on top of Gamma Ray and Kiora Donavon! AM: She may weigh less than a hundred pounds, a hundred pounds that falls that high out of the sky is going to hurt anyone, superhero or not! Slush: Maybe that's why she's flying solo on Valentine's Day. She's not big enough to date, yet. DR: Is any member of the Guard left standing? I don't think so. AM: But Corvette is up, and she's climbing up the ringpost, Dalbello Rage still laid out in the ring! DR: Here comes the Supercharger!! The feisty redhead is calling for it, and... AM: SIERRA BROWNE! [The other Misfit appeared out of nowhere, right in time to divert Corvette's attention. As 'Vette looked in the wrong direction, Rage deftly stepped up the ring corner, hooked the diminutive Canuck, and brought her crashing down with a super-Cradle-plex.] AM: I can't believe this! DR: Dalbello keeps the Cradle-plex locked on for the pin and... ONE! ... ... AM: The Omen's up! ... ... DR: TWO! ... ... AM: The Omen leaps to break the pin! ... ... THREE! DR: The Omen got there too late! AM: I bet the Misfits are real proud of themselves! Slush: Dalbello Rage can boast about something, at least. She and the lame Vasquez are moving on in the tournament. DR: Indeed they are and... hold on... The Guard's causing trouble at ringside, now. AM: Kiora didn't want to stick around, but it looks like Gamma Ray and his Guard want to pick a fight with Vinnie Vasquez, out there, and they're solidly outnumbering him. [As Rage celebrated her good fortune with Sierra Browne inside the ring, at ringside, Gamma Ray and his thugs began to encircle Vinnie Vasquez. One of the Guard lunged at Dubba V, and the brawler knocked the man down with an uppercut, then another with a big boot, and a third with a cutter! But in spite of this, the situation seemed hopeless for Vasquez. That is, until The Omen vaulted over the ropes in a plancha to take down Gamma Ray and nearly all of his Guard in one fell swoop! [HUGE POP!] DR: Vasquez knocks down the last of the Guard! AM: He didn't have to do it, but I guess he had to do the right thing. Aren't you proud of your son, Slush? Slush: I'll always be proud of One Winged Angel, Amy. Always. [The Omen saved Vasquez' skin, and Vinnie Vasquez is no ingrate. He helps the man in the red mask back up to his feet. Knowing they're outnumbered four to one, possibly even more as more of the Guard could storm to ring side at any moment, Vasquez and the Omen decided to bail while they still had the chance, saluting the cheering crowd on their way out. But the cheers quickly turned to boos. In the ring, it appeared the Misfits idea of a proper celebration also involved taking advantage of an unconscious Corvette, stomping on the still unconscious former gymnast.] AM: This is disgusting!! DR: Dalbello Rage won, in no small part thanks to Sierra Browne's timely intervention, and now this? Slush: Call it practice for the next round. AM: I'll call it vile and cowardly, if you don't mind. [Rage held up a defenseless Corvette to let Browne land a few stiff strikes. And when Sierra took a running start to brain 'Vette with a running knee, the crowd's jeers couldn't possibly get any louder.] AM: Someone call security! Slush: MEEP!! ... Oh, you're right, Tinkle, security's already at ringside! AM: Not the Guard! Some _real_ security! [Gamma Ray and his crew regained their wits and took note of the brutal attack that was taking place in the ring. One of the men in black riot gear went to intercede, but the Irradiated One held him by the arm, shaking his head in contempt. The Virtuous Vigilante instead ordered his men back up the aisle and to the back, laughing at Corvette's fate as the Misfits kept on mercilessly assaulting her.] AM: How useless is this damned Guard? DR: They're only doing Gamma Ray's bidding and not much of anything else, that much is clear enough! AM: But who's going to stop this? Slush: Stop what? It's just a harmless little celebration... AM: Harmless? It's a vicious, sadistic attack! Slush: Better that than being alone on Valentine's Day, Amy. Oh, right... She _is_ alone. [In the ring, Dalbello Rage applied a rear naked choke and chicken wing on Corvette, then locked on body scissors. Trapped in the CTC, Corvette was quickly turning a deeper shade of purple.] DR: This is just... Someone needs to do something. AM: Anything! [Then, a hooded fan suddenly hopped over the barricade, armed with a chair, sliding into the ring unnoticed by the duo of bullies.] DR: A good Samaritan brandishing a chair! Slush: The fans are attacking! The fans are attacking! They've finally revolted! Help! HAALLP! AM: Yes! [Sierra Browne turns around just in time to see the chair swinging and dodge it, throwing herself out of the ring to a huge crowd pop! The unknown woman in a hoodie, held the chair up high, keeping it aimed at Browne in case she dared hop back on the apron.] AM: But watch out! DR: Here comes Dalbello! [Seeing her companion in crime bail, Dalbello Rage broke off her CTC and stalked up behind the stranger and steal the chair away!] AM: Uh oh... [Dalbello raised the chair, but she dropped the chair when the unidentified woman kicked her in the gut! POPPAGE! The woman then gracefully took Rage by the arm and wrapped it around Dalbello's own throat before planting her knees in her back to bring her down with a lungblower.] DR: The.. Outliner?!? AM: ... Could it be? [Rage bumped out of the ring where Sierra Browne helped her get the heck out of dodge as fast as possible, leaving the hooded stranger alone in the ring with Corvette. The woman raised her arm, reaching for her hood and peeling it off, revealing wavy blond hair and... a black mask!] DR: ... AM: SYLHOUETTE!! [TURBO-POP!] DR: SHE'S BACK! AM: SYLHOUETTE'S BACK! Slush: Who? [The Uniondale Arena came aloud with the vibrant sound of cheers, and the booming voice of Dame Shirley Bassey's “The Living Tree,” the small Sylhouette standing tall in the ring.] AM: I knew it couldn't end that way! I knew she'd be back! I always knew she'd be back! Slush: Who? DR: Gamma Ray's former sidekick, Slush, and Corvette's friend. The French girl that was abducted nearly a year ago, now. AM: I knew it. It just wasn't right, I knew it, I knew it! Slush: A French girl? Amy's crying over the return of a French girl? [Sylhouette, in the flesh, bent down to help her friend just as Brad Collins appear up the aisle, sprinting towards the ring in visible distress.] AM: She's back! She's back in her real home, back in the UWF, I knew it! Slush: These fans are going nuts over some French girl? DR: They are, Slush, they are. And frankly, I feel like going nuts, too! Slush: But... she's _French!_ [Collins reached the ring and got in as fast as he could, worry etched on his face. He and Sylhouette helped Corvette as best as they could, assisting her out of the ring and up the aisle, the New York fans on their feet to applaud and encourage the two former gymnasts the whole way.] Slush: MEEP!! That's right Tinkle! Who are these UWF people to call us weird. We're not the ones cheering French girls, _they_ are! AM: You're not ruining my moment, Slush. DR: Looks like Sylhouette is finally back where she belongs, folks! AM: And it's AWESOME! DR: Fans, we'll be back in a moment! Stay with us! [Fade to black.] |
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| KliqerT | Mar 8 2010, 05:36 PM Post #4 |
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Doughy
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Alright, this is redundant, but nevertheless: http://www.uwfcentral.com/cards/rbr0213.txt |
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| Picky | Mar 8 2010, 05:38 PM Post #5 |
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Now let us retreat wench, for tonight, we feast on snobbery...
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I had to be reminded I'm technically in this fed. |
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Have I told you how much I loathe your continued existence today? Proud member of the Quote Pyramid Builders Union Local #317 | |
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| ratrangerm | Mar 8 2010, 06:37 PM Post #6 |
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Aging veteran
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Damn that Kyle Lee... he just took away all the bounty money Juan put up in AWA. Me thinks it's time for Juan to ask the federal government to bail him out! |
| "Just as I discovered the meaning of life, it changed." -- George Carlin | |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 8 2010, 06:42 PM Post #7 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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As Vasquez told Scottie Saratoga during their Cupid's Revenge date last year...he's got at least "twenty million in the bank"(If Trey is a trillionaire, Winston is a billionaire, and Kyle Lee can pay the salaries of 60 wrestlers, then damnit, Juan can be modestly rich!). How else is he going to bankroll all those zany side projects like bounties and traveling to Dallas every other week? Besides, Kyle Lee's been bouncing checks ever since Gold Rush...what's taking away a UWF paycheck to Juan? ![]() EDIT: Actually, now that I think about it...Juan Vasquez just got levied the zaniest fine in e-wrestling history. I looked it up... 101 147 Treatment of fracture or dislocation of leg (other than hip or femur) $26,750 I also estimated that if Beeby's imaginary salary for Vasquez was still valid($2.5 million...yeah, no wonder UWF had to be sold) and he gets a weekly check...that's another $52,000 gone. Oh yeah...everyone else who got injured? Lets assume Brianna Landis spent the night in the hospital for observation...another $1500! Hmmm...Corvette has to replace a driver side window? $200 Gamma Ray has to replace his Fiesta? $2! The two ACW tag teams that Edwin Lopez beat up...lets assume they all got concussions and ended up in the hospital too...$6000! I'm going to assume a couple of other people got hurt backstage too and a couple more windows were broken, so lets put miscellaneous at $5000. Grand total: $91,452 Oh...merchandise! Lets say he gets 10% of each tshirt sold at $25 a pop. If 50,000 fans bought one over a course of a year...that's costing him another $125,000! So...Juan Vasquez just got fined $216,452 for breaking Epstein's leg.
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| Guest | Mar 8 2010, 08:15 PM Post #8 |
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Unregistered
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But you forget that this happened in Toronto, Ontario, Canada... Medical bills: $0, unless that bastard Epstein decided to shell out for a private room at the hospital. Then he paid. |
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| Kickair | Mar 8 2010, 08:26 PM Post #9 |
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Buttons aren't toys
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Oh, and don't forget any medical prescriptions... Those aren't covered. |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 8 2010, 08:27 PM Post #10 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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Who are you trying to kid? Of course that rat bastard Epstein got a private room! It's his parting cheapshot to Juan! |
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| Yo Its X | Mar 9 2010, 01:16 PM Post #11 |
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Macktastic
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He doesn't need a room there's a damn wing of an e-w hospital somewhere that has his name on it. He's been there often enough I'd think he gets the presidential suite at normal cost. |
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| synthetic67 | Mar 9 2010, 02:19 PM Post #12 |
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Not Really Semi-Retired
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Eveline Eriksen needs an instant title push. Seriously. How many people in recent memory have made such a huge impact in so little time? |
![]() E-Wrestling Twitters: Hannah Kristiansen: @BOOMKillShot Izumi Sato: @PureHeartWaryer K-USA: @KOKORO_USA Andrea Kristian: @ThePsychoSiren Darrin Kisler: @EvilFnBastard Halvard Vinter: @OddSonHalVinter Myra Benedict: @MyraBenedict | |
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| Overly_Critical_Jue | Mar 9 2010, 02:53 PM Post #13 |
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Amigo, I ain't anybody but Juan Vasquez!
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But she was already in a Women's NA title feud? ![]() Speaking of the women's division...there should be a Sylhouette/Corvette/Miyuki team of lady high flyers wrestling in a 6-woman tag match for no apparent reason. Miyuki: I saved you from your papa in France, Chloe-chan! We must now team up! Syl: Yes sir. Corvette: WHY AM I HERE??? |
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| MBCKyle | Mar 9 2010, 03:15 PM Post #14 |
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The Soda Dog Refreshment Squad
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Would we call the team "International Incident"? |
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Everything I learned about soccer, I learned from Dro. You are to refer to Katie as "The Duchess of Der Basterdmusen" as of June 2014. She'll get angry if you don't. You've been warned. | |
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| RedRajah | Mar 9 2010, 03:30 PM Post #15 |
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Shocked Woona is Shocked
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Slush needs to be on commentary for the full horrific effect.
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| And here's where I pretend to be a writer... | |
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3:31 AM Jul 11