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Team Majestic vs. Team SCW
Topic Started: Jun 29 2007, 11:19 PM (531 Views)
Mr. D
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The SCW Owner and Leader of the Nation of Moderation
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Matt Hodges, James Exeter & Michael Jay St. Claire vs. Loki, Mr. Showtime & MV

Teaser to be added later...

6 RP Limit PER TEAM
Deadline: 11:59 pm EST on Saturday, July 14, 2007
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1Fall
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[align=center]OOC NOTES:
(ALL READ)

Ok… here are some notes that I have left so that SCW Readers who are yet to be bewildered by one of my RP’s can better understand what exactly is happening.

1. MJSC through the stress that wrestling has put on him, has turned to heroin. Please note so that you don’t look like douche bags in your next few RP’s, that quite obviously, no one knows. It’s not like MJSC is snorting it on camera.
2. Rachel Thompson is Michael Jay St. Claire fiancé, there wedding is scheduled for November. She is also pregnant…
3. There are a LOT of anti-American comments in this, please don’t take them seriously. I don’t hate any denomination of people that live in America, nor am I biased or discriminate due to race, skin colour or heritage. In Character, Michael is. Hell there is a 99% chance that you are not Australian, tall, well built and good looking. So in character, Michael hates you too.

And as always; Enjoy.[/align]

----------------------------------------------------------------------

[align=center]Team Majestic vs. Team SCW
Six Man Tag Team Match
Rise Too Greatness
RP #1:

A Cynical View… of SCW…

=======

PROLOGUE
A Cynical View… of SCW…

=======

We see subgenre’s of different stereotypes all the time today, and thanks to the American Media in conjunction with MTV and VH1, there is no such thing as originality anymore. And what’s even sadder is the fact that people think they are being different, by dressing the same way as everyone else. What affects me most is that not only have MTV destroyed society’s viewpoint on stereotypes, and used propaganda too make Children listen to certain types of music, but now a days adults are doing it too. And it shows when you take a look at today’s wrestling world. We have factions of people who walk, talk, dress and act the same, and that draws money from teens that like the look. It’s a very smart business ploy, that in my opinion is only used so more teenaged boys and girls will buy their T-Shirts, and hold their signs up at events. The Cherry Pit Crew, The Dynasty and the New Blood Rebellion… God damn it when will it end?

Now I’m not saying these people are any less of athletes because of their ring attire when they walk to the ring, and I’m definitely not trying to change anyone’s opinions on their Mat skills. Because my words won’t do as much as my actions in the ring. Put any of these people in the ring with a superstar who’s presence is validated only by the way they perform every week, such as myself, Nathan Kaye, Matt Hodges or even James Exeter, and you will see that they are nothing less than a practical joke on the world of wrestling, that overshadows real talent and deprives the REAL fans of wrestling of what they deserve. Decent Storylines, wrestling matches, and REAL wrestlers… because if any of the classic Wrestling fans that grew up in the 80’s could see the 18 year olds that are breaking onto today’s scene only because of their fringes, or their baggy pants and Basketball jersey’s, they’d probably call up Ric Flair and Dusty Rhode’s and ask them to come down and teach them a lesson.

See whenever I come to SCW, I’ve always got to bitch. Why? Because it’s my duty to bitch, and complain until justice is served. Until the fans see my point of view, until every asshole backstage agree’s with me and see’s me for the modern day prophet I am. I don’t expect much from Team SCW, knowledge wise. No doubt they’ll keep denying their own beliefs of my opinion, and just how right I am, until I am forced to leave this company for its sheer stupidity. But behind all the complaining, which as transparently obvious as it is, I do have a certain respect for some people in this company. Xander Valentine, Greg Cherry, Chad Evans… God the names that this company holds. Al equally cocky, each and every one of them equally skilled with the mic and in the ring. See when I do come to SCW, and there is finally an Australian with some talent their, everything will change. I will mould the obscure champion of today’s TV Ratings into my own image, and then… and ONLY then… can SCW truly become free of its sins against wrestling fans everywhere…

If the Wrestling business was a physical entity, capable of realizing what it has become, then I’m sure Shorty Jr. wouldn’t be the only one that has tried to kill himself…

=======

PART 1
A Cynical View… of SCW:
Addiction.


=======

WARNING[/size]
The following contains;
Drug Use – Because we can…
Course Language – Like ‘Fuck’, ‘Cunt’ and ‘Lenne Perez’
and
Violence – Which adds to the ratings…
Thankyou, Come Again…


Michael’s head was spinning, and the laughter of the room grew and grew, echoing off the walls of the dank basement of the local Irish pub in Las Vegas, Nevada. The room itself seemed to be rotating back and fourth, as chest anecdotes and comments caused laughter among them group of men who couldn’t seem to contain it. They were sitting around a table, pints of beer for each of them and cigarettes in hand, as well as a large stash of white powder in the centre of the table, which the men had mowed through in the two hour period. Among the men was Michael Jay St. Claire, current roster member of SCW’s Wrestling Developmental territory, known as Majestic. Also there were the drunk Irishmen that Michael had met last week. The suppliers of his newest addiction, the people that little did Michael know, were taking his life… piece by piece…

“That fucking kike lawyer almost got me sent to prison,” said the leader, Patrick, “Too bad that he suffered a horrible ‘Accident’, before the hearing… postponing it until I could pay off the loyal citizens of the Jury…”

Laughter filled the room again, as Patrick slapped his knee and laughed along with the rest of the men, and Michael. Michael couldn’t see straight, hell he didn’t even know exactly what was happening, but he was laughing. Why? Michael couldn’t tell you. Michael was just going along with it, laughing because he didn’t understand, because whatever he heard was distorted and didn’t make sense. He was enjoying himself, or so the drugs made him believe. He brought his head closer to the glass bench, and pinched down on his left nostril as he inhaled some more of the white crystals on the table. He sniffed, rubbed his nose and leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply on the cigarette in his hand.

“I got a story for you,” Michael said, drawing the attention to the only man in the room that wasn’t wearing some form of green, “Well. I was in high school right, and me and my friends have gone to the toilets for a cigarette break. My friend pulls out a joint, the purest stuff you will ever see, farmed in Queensland, Australia. And he lights it up, and after 15 minutes of not sharing, he is high off his fuck. I see to that he gets a cigarette off one of the boys, who like me is angry that he didn’t share. After the cigarette, the guy shat his pants.”

The room howled with laughed, as Michael and the rest drank, smoked, and sniffed some more. Michael looked around before continuing, “Turns out that nicotine and marijuana have diverse effects, for some people resulting in a bowl movement!”

Patrick crossed his legs, everyone around him still laughing. Michael finished off the rest of his glass and placed it on the table as Patrick started talking, “So Michael… you’ve never told us what it is exactly, you do.”

“Really? How rude of me!” said the delusional Michael Jay St. Claire, “I, my good friends. Am conforming to the latest sensation of male pussies in the entire nation! I’m a professional, fucking, wrestler!”

“A rassler? Me gran’ pappy was a rassler! Damn fine one too, back in Ireland he was champ!” said a random man on the table.

“Shut the fuck up Ryan,” ordered Patrick, “Really? Got any matches coming up?”

“In fact. I do.”

“Really? Anyone I’d know of?”

“Just pussies man… just pussies…” Michael said, laid back, the heroin truly starting to relax him, “Ahh fuck I forget there names… uhh… MV… Don’t know much about him… he’s some guy in some tag team that did something to earn themselves some title that means shit to no one…”

They all started looking at him funny as he stood up. He looked around and spoke, “Gentlemen. I’m gunna bleed the Goanna…” Michael started walking back as he got mixed confused reactions from all of them, “…I’m going to take a piss…”

He started walking away, before he tripped over his own feet and hit the side of his head on a trash can, knocking them all over. Everything went black…

=======

PROLOGUE PT. 2
A Cynical View… of SCW…

=======

In my dreams, everything is unreal. My entire life is moulded in the exact manor that I envision it, and I have complete control of who comes into my world, and who goes out. Unfortunately though, the world is never the way we depict it to be in our heads. The world is a cruel, twisted place where no one ever gets what they want. It is run off Karma, which always sides with the good guys. Which leaves the ambitious people like myself, Greg Cherry, The Real Speed, Matt Hodges and so many other out to dry. When karma, and fate work as one, it is the people like me who work relentlessly for what they want, only to have it stolen from them only a matter of weeks later. It is disgusting, seeing exactly what true evil is… I’m not evil, my point of view on the world isn’t evil, the substances I take aren’t evil, FATE is evil… Fate is a cruel beast, who’s cockiness is complimented by its power…

Oh how the forces of nature fuck us all in the ass…

=======

PART 2
A Cynical view… of SCW…

=======

“Holy shit, last time someone got a deal this sweet at SCW they had to suck Oleska’s cock! MV? Loki?! Mr. Showtime? It’s like I’ve gotten you a match with a jungle freak, a fucking sports commentator and some creepy French Bastard! Wait… that’s EXACTLY what I’ve done!!”

Laughter rang from the mouths of Michael Jay St. Claire, and his red-haired, stocky agent Ronnie, as they made their way down a busy street in Las Vegas to grab lunch. Ronnie was small, slightly wide shouldered and chubby, with a wide grin and red cheeks. He was the complete opposite of the six foot six, well oiled wrestling machine known as Michael Jay St. Claire, so the pair got a lot of looks from passers by. Michael stared around at the American trash around him, shaking his head at the homosexuals and the larger people in their cars, tearing away half the Big Macs in their hands with one bite. He shook his head, evidently disgusted at them as they made their way past, most of the homo’s looking at him biting their lips as if they had a chance with a man who’s figure could have been carved from ancient Greek stone and featured in Art Gallery’s and Museums all over Europe.

Michael and Ronnie took a seat out the front of a posh looking café, Michae putting his feet on the metal table infront of him after sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. Ronnie, already ahead of him, flicked the end of his cigarette making the used ash on the tip fall off into the ash tray. Michaels straight leg grey jeans, complimented by the Anger MGMT shirt he was wearing seemed to get a few break off pieces of ash on them every time Ronnie ashed his cigarette, and Michael took his legs off. A man approached them both. He was wearing heavy mascara on his eye lashes, and he shooks his hips femininely as he walked. He was wearing female Levi’s, and he was most likely the size of a female supermodel. His skin was slightly bronzed, obviously applied, not a natural tan, and his hair was bleach blond and short, his fringe not going past his eyebrows but brushed to the side to reveal as slight bit of forehead.

“Hey there,” he asked, pulling a pad and pen from his back pocket and standing with one leg straight, and one leg rested, bent at the knee slightly so his hip moved out too one side, making himself look impossibly more like a woman, “What can I get you two boys today?”

“Hey look Ronnie!” Michael said with a vicious smile on his face as he lowered his black shades, staring up at the man with a look of hate across his brow, and a sadistic smile that seemed to ready the boy for prejudiced malice, “It’s a living fucking Q-Tip!”

Ronnie laughed, slapping his knee’s and rolling around on his chair, he ashed the cigarette again and then took a drag, he pulled out his wallet and threw a ten dollar American note at the boy and laughed, “Don’t mind ol’ Michael, he’s just a bit beat up from-”

“Losing?” said the young, bleach blonde male who was obviously just out of his teens, now with a replica of Michael Jay St. Claire cocky, full toothed smile on his face than shone arrogance. He smiled even harder when he saw the look on Michael’s face drop too nothing more than a confused parting of the lips, “What? You didn’t think I watched Majestic? Oh come on, hot, greased up guys wearing spandex? Like I’d miss that… and yeah, I did see you lose your title after a week you fucking loser. Next time you want to play the cocky game with a gay guy, realize that we like it… and by the way, keep your money, and get your own fucking cof-”

The boy’s last words were muffled by the boy being lifted onto the balls (excuse the pun) of his feet, as Michael hand lashed out and wrapped around the boys throat, his middle finger and thumb closing in on the holes in the throat that gave direct access to the breathing chords. Michael looked the boy in the eye, his facial expression was enough to send the boy running, but there was no escape, “You fucking little punk…” said Michael as his gigantic hands closed in a bit tighter, “If I kill you right now, not a thing happens to anyone in this town except that theres one less faggot prancing around these God Forsaken American Streets.”

Michael stopped talking, and spat in the boys face, letting go of the throat so violently that the boy was thrown back. Ronnie was already on his feet looking at Michael as if he was crazy, “Michael your nuttier than Squirrel shit!” he laughed, “I’ll get the coffee don’t worry…”

“Sit down Ron, we’ve got to talk about this whole SCW mess,” Michael said, watching the little homosexual with glee as the boy started crying and ran down the street, “Now… as fun as it is, beating up the bottom feeders of the SCW Roster, I want more of a challenge. Now I was thinking about that proposal you had for me last week, and I want you too do your best too get Drachewych too ass a few more zero’s to the final figure, before I accept. But in the mean time, I want you too persuade Adam Allocco too make me Number 1 on the call-up sheet, that way if Drachewych changes his mind, I have a scape goat to getting in. And if he doesn’t give me the current figure on my pay cheque, plain and simple; I’ll sue.”

“You make my job fucking easy Mikey, that’s why I like you man. You aren’t as stupid as most the talent I have on me at the moment. You don’t need me for much, yet you still pay me. God life is simple!” Ronnie laughed, “But don’t listen to that little fag Michael! That loss was probably the best loss I’ve ever seen anyone lose anywhere! It was an amazing match…”

“Amazing match or not I lost! I was weaker than him at the time, but I’m getting stronger every day… Next time we go head to head, I’ll completely destroy him!” Michael said

“But Nathan Kaye is-”

“Don’t you ever say his name in my presence! You hear me?! NEVER!” Michael screamed, standing up and flipping over the table. Michael turned around and walked off, leaving Ronnie to trail after…

=======

PART 3
The Promo

=======

Life is like everything else that you must build up, there are steps involed. The steps are simple with life, unlike most things.

STEP 1: Birth
STEP 2: Live
STEP 3: Death

There is no fourth step, there are no short cuts, and there will never be a way out. I guess I could over exaggerate my latest encounter with Nathan Kaye and tell you I came within an inch of my life, but truth be told I was never going into that match with the belief I’d nearly be dead. I can tell you though, for a fact, that by the end of it I was running off nothing but adrenaline, and the will to win. It’s an amazing thing having all your energy at one moment, then 25 minutes later collapsing from blood loss. Nathan Kaye took my title, even though it was evident that we were evenly matched. The fact that he walked out with the belt is disgraceful, since he is not more deserving than I and he will never be a better fighter, not wrestler than me. He will never come within reach of my talents, and my absolute strength. I am the perfect unit, a well oiled wrestling machine, and a God to Australians everywhere. At least I didn’t lose to an American…

Heaven was Hell, especially for me. What was meant to be the biggest night of my life, my ‘heaven’, did turn into Hell when I woke up, looked at the bedside table next to the thin hospital mattress I was laying on and didn’t see my belt there. After a while the memories came back to me, the belly to belly suplex that Nathan botched… God… that was it wasn’t it? I lost due to blood loss, via a botched belly too belly suplex. Now two things have become accidents in Nathan’s life haven’t they? His birth, and winning the Majestic Lionheart Championship. I am pissed off too say the least, but I’ve put his and my own entire history behind us, and I’m here to pull out a fresh page. Honestly I’m glad to be at another SCW Pay-Per-View, but this time I’m not happy to represent Majestic. In fact, I hate Majestic and SCW, they both make me sick. Filled with Americans, with cliché gimmicks that all revolve around them being arrogant.

USA
U Suck Ass


Rise too Greatness? What an ironic name, because since coming into Majestic, I’ve done nothing but Rise too the top. Make a name for myself, and completely annihilate all who stood in my path. I’ve teamed with Hodges, I’ve beaten James Exeter, I’ve beaten former Lionheart Champions and I’ve shocked the world, narrowly coming short of a Taking Hold of the Flame win alongside my Majestic brother James Exeter. Fuck it, I’ve even knocked Nathan Unconscious with a sleeper hold. And so Drachewych and Allocco both see the same thing, three men known as Team Majestic, that are the future of the company. And what have they done? They’ve decided to test the future of the SCW waters, by sending us opponents that are more like sacrificial lambs to Cult Leaders. By that I mean, we are going to tear them apart like a gladiator to a Lion back in ancient Rome. This isn’t even funny anymore, those people are ankle deep in shit and we are going to completely annihilate them.

I’ve never been more excited, yet deeply saddened about any match in my life. James, Matt and Michael… three future SCW greats are going to be competing against the bottom feeders of the SCW Jobbers. Mr. Showtime? What can I say about you? You aren’t an ignorant man, no. I’ve heard you speak of being underestimated before, so at least I know that you know that everyone thinks you suck. You aren’t living in denial, in fact your mere presence feeds my ego, and you should know that you aren’t worthy of tying my wrestling boots. I’m a former Lionheart Champion, I’ve beaten the best Majestic has too offer, and what have you ever done? What have you ever accomplished worth acknowledging? What will you ever do worth looking forward too? Absolutely fucking nothing. You are a disgrace, the fact that Drachewych ever let you into this company completely baffles me. It keeps me up at night, just wondering how people like you get into the big leagues, when people like myself, Matt Hodges and James Exeter have to work for it.

Cruelty to mankind…

Loki… the Jungle Boy, except now he’s got a suit to wear to work. How are you? How’s the big city going? I guess it’s weird now that you have too go to the Zoo to see monkey’s, but count yourself lucky, if I was President of the United States I’d do two things. One, I’d get freaks like you, Xander Valentine, Caleb Andrews and the rest, and put them in cages… Secondly, I’d re-name the country Australia II. But that’s not the point, I’m going to go easy on you Loki. I don’t not like you, I don’t have anything for you but sympathy. It’s obvious an ape dropped you on your head as a kid so I’ll spell this out for your monkey ass. If you don’t lay down for either me, James or Matt, we will have to destroy you. Completely, obliterate every bone in your body and crush the powder that’s left with the heels of our shoes. So that was all that needed to be said, and Loki I know you haven’t learnt English, so I’m sending a Zoologist over with a tape of this promo to translate it all into Ape…

MV…

….

…well…

…ummmm….

…I hate you…

-END-

========================================[/align]

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Dresser Boys
Karma's Warrior
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Dresser Boys RP | SCW Presents Rise to Greatness | Returning to Greatness
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James Exeter
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James Exeter versus Nature.

The curveball, One of the many great phenomenon that the game of baseball holds. It’s truly unbelievable. It’s my favorite pitch, out of the plethora that you see at any baseball game. The pitcher pulls back, his hand curved expertly around the ball… he motions forward, the trained batter’s eye can eliminate several pitches that it isn’t… but that doesn’t matter.

The pitcher releases the ball, curving his hand downward, putting a spin on the ball. The batter uses whatever timing mechanism they’ve developed in order to hold up on it as the ball floats through the air. The batter waits until the time is right… and then, pulls the trigger. He takes a swing, attempting to pulverize the ball into next week. However, that isn’t what happens, oh no. As soon as the batter goes into their swing, something incredible happens. The ball, which had been at the numbers, miraculously begins to fall. The spin put on it by the pitcher makes the baseball dive to the ground. The batter can’t stop himself now, he’s putting all his force into a swing. The bat goes through the zone with a mighty “whiff”! …And a strike is recorded, because the batter missed the ball completely. Not only has a strike been recorded, but the batter has been made to look like a fool. What once looked like a ball that could be slammed into the cheap-seats turned into thin air and became an awkward looking swing at nothing. It’s beautiful, and one of the many ways a pitcher can make an exceptional hitter look like a minor leaguer.

Well, McKenzie Hart… Majestic fans… Majestic wrestlers… whatever the hell Bane is. You were all made to look like minor leaguers at Heaven is Hell.

Matt Hodges and I conspired to deliver a Major League curveball to all of you, and just when you thought we were going to completely destroy each other in the ring… that is, just when you thought it was the perfect time to swing at the pitch… the ball took its dive. It went all the way into the dirt, and you all struck out swinging.

I’ve got to admit; the one who looked the most foolish was you, Miss Hart. You had so much faith invested in me. Enough so that you were willing to fall into Allocco’s trap and accept the offer for a bet. Naïve and stupid. You knew full well that there is a great deal of history between Matt and myself. We know each other inside and out… and like many great Major League pitchers… we know how to throw a curveball. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t know how to hit it. And even worse for yourself, you didn’t know how to hold up and NOT swing at it. Tsk, tsk. I’m sure you’ll be more cautious next time, well I mean… you’ll never be able to forget striking out at Heaven is Hell. How could you? I am fairly positive that Mr. Allocco won’t let you forget. Hahah. I hope you enjoy your time as his slave. I know I’ll enjoy watching whatever he makes you do.

Anyhow, that is Heaven is Hell, and that is last week. Now I move on to bigger and better things… such as Rise to Greatness. Ah yes… the flagship pay per view of Supreme Championship Wrestling. An event that I was one elimination from headlining. Such a damn shame that my feet slipped off that wet top rope and Damian Angel was able to win. Oh well, though. No sense crying over something that I could have avoided.

However, I do feel the need to voice my displeasure with the choice making abilities of Supreme Championship Wrestling’s management. When Damian Angel, the man who won Taking Hold of the Flame backed out of his Number One Contender’s spot to settle a score with The Canadian Heart Break Kid, it would have made complete sense to give his shot to the runner up. I’m nearly positive that that is standard protocol in Battle Royal situations… but this wasn’t the case. Oh no. They gave the title shot that was rightfully mine to… who? To Jason Wheeler, a man that ~*I~* eliminated at Taking Hold of the Flame. If you are sitting and asking yourself how this makes sense, know that you aren’t alone.

The “reasoning” for this… this highway robbery being…? I wasn’t an SCW Superstar. I was from Majestic.

Well isn’t that just balls?

Incredible. You know, I think this is right up there with forcing people of a different skin color to sit in a separate section of a public transport vehicle on the injustice scale! So because I was a part of Majestic and not SCW, I lost out on an opportunity that was rightfully mine?! You’d be grasping at straws to try and justify that way of thinking.

If I could pronounce his name, I’d tell you that I personally believe that… Ole…. Ol… Alex Draken…whatever, is… he is Company-Racist. That’s right. He has discriminated against Majestic by taking a title shot away from me on the grounds that… well, I am from Majestic! That is so wrong!

I just thought of it right now, but I could TOTALLY sue the hell out of him and SCW management… but on the other hand, I have a really poor legal record at the moment. Hmmm. That’s it! I’ll get Matt Hodges to sue them! Where’s my phone, I need to call him right now and have him get his lawyer to…

Oh, right… where was I? Oh yes. Rise to Greatness… the show I should’ve been Main Eventing. Of course I’m still part of the show, in fact, I’m probably the reason half of the people are going to come to the show in the first place.

Who am I facing? Well first off, I’m teaming with my old buddy Matthew… and my new buddy Michael. Who are we facing? Tarzan, Afro Man, and Peppy Le Pew.

Okay, so those aren’t their real names. They are… Loki, Mr. Showtime, and MV. Not exactly Xander Valentine or Greg Cherry… or… well… a challenge, but let’s continue. I know my partners had a rather adverse reaction to whom we’re facing. Matt, well… he is an extreme case of someone who really needs to not over-react to things. Seriously, Matt, if you’re listening to this. Calm the hell down. And Michael… well… I don’t know if he really had a reaction, because it seems like he’s angry at everything. I mean, I think the guy wakes up, gets the newspaper, and then goes outside just so he can beat his neighbor’s dog with it. He’s probably a menace to society. I’m kind of glad that he’s on MY team.

So anyways, while my two partners were busy being angry and… over-dramatic about our opponents, I took a different approach. You see, you never know what’s going to happen when you face new opponents. Especially ones like our opponents at Rise to Greatness. So this week I decided to take some precautionary measurements… you know, to make sure I was ready for what Michael, Matt, and myself are getting in to. I know, I know, it’s Matt Hodges, it’s Mike St. Claire, and it’s “THE EXTRAORDINARY” James Exeter, what possibly could catch us off guard?

Well I like to have control of things, as you may know… and I like to get a good grip on exactly what I’m up against. So, I went out into the wild. That’s right. The Extraordinary One was jungle bound. That’s why I’ve been so quiet this week. It is a long trip down to South America and then back to here. Now, I know you’re probably thinking, “All that, just to prepare for one opponent?” Well, that’s why I’m so damn Extraordinary. I go the extra mile. But really, I did this so I could attempt to prove to myself, and THE WORLD, that I can beat Loki, even in his natural environment. I figured, if I give Loki every advantage in the world… immersing myself into his home turf, the wilderness… the jungle… and if I can defeat him there… then there is nothing stopping me from defeating him in MY environment. The squared circle. Take a look at James Exeter versus nature.


-------------------------------------------


Time: 9:00 AM
Location: Base camp, The Amazon jungle in South America
Status: Ambitious


The scene begins with a black screen flickering on… immediately we see the familiar face of James Exeter. He’s got a quizzical look on his face, and he is wearing a ridiculous looking hat, and has a pipe in his mouth.

“Is it on?”


“Yeah.”

“Is it ON?!”

“Yes!”

“….Good. Hello ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you to a special broadcast brought to you and paid for by Extraordinary Productions.”

“I thought you said Matt Hodges was going to pay-“

“SHUT UP! ... As I was saying, welcome! As you know, I am the Extraordinary James Exeter, and I have something very special for you today! First I’d like to introduce you all to my cameraman, a freelance film student from Green Bay Wisconsin, Mr. Scott Kennedy!”


The camera turns around and we see a kid who looks to be about eighteen or nineteen years old, wearing a Green Bay Packers hat, along with a brown t-shirt. He waves, a complete look of un-amusement on his face, and turns the camera back around at the star of our show. We see now that not only is he wearing a ridiculous hat, but he’s also dressed in complete safari gear.

“Scott and I are here today to accomplish one thing. Well, I am here to accomplish one thing, anyways; Scott is just going to film it. What am I here to accomplish, you ask? Well, isn’t it obvious? One of Team Exeter’s… and no, that’s no an official team name, but it has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? One of Team Exeter’s opponents at Rise to Greatness is called Loki… and he goes by the moniker of “The Lost Boy”. Well, I have come all the way to his natural habitat… the jungles of South America, to find him. Not only am I going to find him, but also I am going to defeat him in a battle. Not really unlike the battle that will be taking place at Rise to Greatness.

And once I have defeated this “Lost” boy in his own environment… I will have proven that he stands no chance against me in a wrestling ring, and he should therefore convince his team to forfeit the match and save themselves from getting brutalized.

So that’s the general idea as to why I’m here. And if you’re ready, Scott, I’d like to get started!”


The camera shakes a little.


“…Whatever man. Let’s go.”

Exeter picks up a large backpack and hooks it around his arms as the two begin to walk off into the lush jungles of South America… as the camera cuts out.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time: 9:12 AM
Location: About 20 yards away from base camp.
Status: Overheated


“Augh… it’s so damn hot.”

The scene cuts back in to James Exeter leaning against a tree, panting, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“Scott… I’m afraid we’re in deep trouble… we’ve been out here for hours, and I think we’re lost.”

“…we’ve been away from camp for twelve minutes…”


“…”


Exeter has a blank look on his face… before standing up and pulling a water bottle out of the backpack that had been sitting on the ground at his feet. He promptly chugs it and then wipes his lips.

“Well in any event, Scott, this Loki character is harder to find than I thought he’d be. I mean, I haven’t even seen a SIGN of him being around here.”

The voice from behind the camera sounds extremely un-amused.

“…Can I ask a question?”

“Certainly.”

“…have you ever even… SEEN this Loki guy that we’re looking for?”

“…”


James looks at him blankly for a moment.

“No more questions, Scott. Let’s keep moving.”


“Augh…”


The camera cuts out again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time: 9:45 AM
Location: Deep in the heart of the Amazon Jungle.
Status: Setting up an ambush.


The camera cuts back in, and we see James Exeter kneeling alongside the stump of a large tree, he’s fidgeting with something that we can’t see. The camera turns around and we see Scott’s face. He speaks quietly.

“I can’t believe I agreed to go on a trip with this assh-“

“What’s that, Scott?”

“Nothing.”

“Well shut up. You’re probably scaring Loki away!”


Scott remains silent, not bothering to tell Exeter that he just yelled twice as loud as anything Scott had said. Exeter finally reveals what he was fidgeting with. An extremely large fire arm. We can hear Scott gasp, sort of, as Exeter loads the gun.

“What the hell is that?!”

“An elephant gun.”

“….Wh-where the hell did you get an elephant gun?!?!”

“The black market.”


Exeter answers each question with emotionless precision.

“…when… when did you go to the black market?!”


Exeter promptly spins and aims the elephant gun at Scott.

“SSSH!!! THE LOCATION AND HOURS OF OPERATION OF THE BLACK MARKET ARE NEVER TO BE KNOWN BY ANYONE!”

“ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! FUCKIN…. STOP POINTING THAT THING AT ME! JESUS!”


James lowers his gun… but points it back at him again suddenly… and then lowers it again and turns around, setting up his aim, using the stump for leverage.

“Wh-what are you aiming at?”


The Extraordinary One doesn’t answer.

“Mr. Exeter?”

“Ssshh, Scott. I learned how to do this in The Departed. I need total and complete concentration.”

“Okay, but… I don’t see anything out there…”

“You will. In time.”


…the camera cuts out, with James keeping his eyes locked on whatever it is he’s aiming at.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time: 12:06 PM
Location: The same place.
Status: Discouraged, but not defeated.


“We’ve been out here for over two hours!”

The camera isn’t being held by Scott anymore. He has it set down on the ground, facing Exeter and himself. Exeter is still sitting by the stump, aiming at absolutely nothing, while Scott is leaning with his back against a tree.

“Patience.”


“For what!? You don’t even know what you’re looking for! Can’t believe I agreed to go out here in the middle of the damn jungle with a friggin’ psycho! I’m not getting paid enough for this!”


“You won’t get paid at all if you keep that attitude up. I know we’ve been out here for a long time, but trust me…soon. Loki will be here, soon. I can feel it.”


“And what are you gonna do when he gets here?! Shoot him with a fucking elephant gun?!!? I thought you said you were going to battle him, not murder him?!”


“Fool! The gun isn’t for shooting him, it’s for immobilizing him and forcing him to engage me in battle!”


Scott looks at Exeter in disbelief.


“…won’t immobilizing him… you know what, never mind, forget it.”


The camera cuts out as Scott slaps his palm against his forehead.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time: 12:23 PM
Location: The same place.
Status: Determined.


“Taco Bell, Taco Bell, product placement with Taco Bell. Enchurrito, Much burrito!”

The camera cuts out with Scott staring at Exeter, an eyebrow raised.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time: 12:50 PM
Location: No different than before.
Status: On the cusp of defeat.


The camera cuts in with Exeter still aiming off into the jungle. Scott is fanning himself with his hat, and looks at though he’s ready to pass out.


“…can we… please… go back… we’re out of water… this Loki thing isn’t showing up.”


Exeter turns and glares at the forlorn camera operator.

“Yeah, Scott. Let’s just give up. Give in, after we’ve come so far, and worked so hard. Yeah… it’s not like you have anything to lose by quitting now. It’s not like YOU are in a wrestling match with this guy, and need to prepare. It isn’t as though YOU are expected to perform at the highest level on SCW’s flagship show! No, all I asked of you is to come with me for ONE BLEEDING DAY and film me trying my damndest to prepare as best as I can for an extremely important match, and you can’t even do that, Scott! You know, I shouldn’t have expected any different from a FILM student. You know, I could’ve gotten ABC, MSNBC, or ESPN to cover this, but NO, Scott, I chose you, because I saw something in you. I saw ambition. Spirit. PRIDE. But apparently all it takes is a little time in the heat and all that melts away into the real Scott… and I gotta tell you, I’m very disappointed. I can’t even begin to tell you.”


As Exeter has been rambling on, a bird has walked into the area where he was previously aiming. The bird looks around for a little bit, and then flies off, startled by Exeter’s tirade. The bird’s take off makes the leaves around the ground russle, and James’ eyes widen. He whips around and fires his gun, hitting absolutely nothing.

“…CURSES! He’s here! God damn you for distracting me!”


“Uhh… I think that was actually just a bird.”

“…No… no bird…”

“Well then what was it?”

“It was him….”

“Oh yeah? Then where is he? I don’t see anyone out there, James.”


James remains silent… leering out into the jungle where he fired his shot.

“…. Cloaking device.”


“What?”

“He’s obviously using some sort of cloaking device. Incredibly brilliant.”


Scott’s face contorts into a look of complete disbelief, once again.

“…you… you are out of your mind. You’re bat shit insane. You have absolutely no-“

“Ssssh… he’s like the Predator. Lethal when invisible…”

“I can’t believe you.”


Suddenly, a sound is heard from above. Leaves rustling up in a tree branch. Exeter wastes no time as he points his gun upwards and fires! He hits nothing of course, and Scott falls backwards, terrified that Exeter is swinging the gun around and firing at everything he wants.


“He’s in the trees!”


Scott reaches out and picks up the camera.

“Screw this, you’re on your own! I’m out of here!”

Exeter pays no attention to his camera man. His focus is completely locked on the tree above them. His gaze is a rather humorous one, wide-eyed, looking nearly directly upwards.

Scott begins to walk away, the camera shaking, sort of, with each step. He looks down into the camera.


“This was perhaps the worst idea I’ve ever had, and I am NEVER looking in the newspaper for jobs ever again.”


We hear two more gunshots being fired, back where Exeter was. Scott turns and aims the camera in that direction, and we see nothing. Silence… for a moment… and then…

“GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RUN!!!!!!!”


“…what?”


We see James Exeter come sprinting into view. He’s not carrying his gun, or his backpack. Through horrified gasps of breath, he manages to yell at Scott.

“GET TO THE CHOPPAAA!!!!!”


“…what chopper?!”

“NEVERMIND, JUST RUN!!!”


Exeter has now caught up to Scott, and without giving the young camera man a chance to re-act, he shoves him out of the way and to the ground. The camera goes with him, and upon hitting the ground… it cuts out.

-------------------------------------------


So as you can plainly see, I defeated Loki in his own environment. The jungle was a very taxing place for me to be, but as you all know… I am Extraordinary. Part of that means I am able to adapt and excel in any environment… whether it be the ocean… the jungle… the desert… the arctic. Hell, I bet I could beat Loki in outer space!

Anyway. The fact of the matter is, I won the battle in the jungle. I won because Loki refused to show himself. I don’t blame him. He obviously used the instinct given to him by whatever pack of wolves he was raised by to determine that he was no match for James Exeter, and he didn’t show his face. A smart decision, I think. He may have spared his own life by not confronting me in that jungle, and Loki, may I advise you that it would be wise to not confront me on Sunday, either.

Pass that advice to the rest of your team as well. None of you are a match for James Exeter. And you never will be. Showing up… will be a mistake.



END.
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Matt Hodges
Advanced Member
[ *  *  * ]
HODGES TV

The Following Is A Promotional Video, Paid For By Matt Hodges.

Well, well, well…this is certainly a rather humorous situation we find ourselves in, now, isn’t it? I’m sorry that I’m forced to introduce myself under such…well, embarrassing circumstances. I always pictured my Supreme Championship Wrestling debut as much more glamorous. However, thanks to a certain trifling owner, it just isn’t in the cards.

Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Matthew Christian Hodges, born and raised in Miami, Florida. My Majestic Record is Five and Oh. My over-all professional wrestling record is twenty-two and oh. And unless you’re a Canadian, you know EXACTLY what that means. Yes people, I have yet to be defeated inside a wrestling ring.

Now, this may be surprising to you. But, see…the Majestic fans and I haven’t exactly taken to each other the way I had initially hoped we would. They don’t seem to respect the talent, the charisma, the beauty, the POETRY that I bring with me night in, night out to the ring. And to this, I have to say…I just don’t give a damn. They can boo me, jeer me, hate me all they want, the fact remains that I know the truth. They’re jealous that they can’t be like me, and let’s face it. There’s no cause for blame there. If I’ve said this once, I’ve said it a thousand times. I’m the prototype of human existence. I’m what every single man wants to be, and what every single woman out there wishes their man could be.

I can’t help that I’m so perfect. Sometimes, it’s a real burden to have all these people live in constant jealousy of you. So, I’ll more than understand if you people choose to hate me, too.

Natural jealousy aside, I have much more meaningful things to share with you. You see, I’m one of the very best Majestic has to offer. That’s the reason Adam Allocco chose me, alongside my buddies James Exeter and The Great White Shark to be a part of Team Majestic. Now, conventional wisdom and common sense would both tell you that if Allocco chose two of the brightest up-and-coming stars the business had to offer, and the single most entertaining and talented man in Majestic HISTORY, yours truly, Mr. D…Darkwitch, would choose somebody of note to face us. But see, Darkwitch is too smart to play Allocco’s game. He knows that if he picks anybody who’s any good, and the so-called “development” overtakes some of his best, he’ll never be able to live it down.

So there I was, expecting somebody like David Miller, Jordan Webb, or Christian Savor. Somebody with actual talent. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to imagine my chagrin when James called me the other day to inform me that our opponents for Rise To Greatness were some uncivilized piece of crap, some ex-theatre major, and a guy who can’t properly pronounce words that start in ‘th.’ Losers, every last one of them. Learning this actually made me wish we would even be facing The Real Speed. Yes, people, I had actually become that desperate. I was genuinely hurt when I learned we were facing virtually nobody, as I probably should’ve been. I was even admittedly a little bit depressed. God, what an embarrassment it is for Majestic’s finest to be matched up against men who are barely even on the roster as it stands. Can somebody say ‘cakewalk?’

I know what you’re probably thinking. You’re probably thinking that I’m underestimating them. This couldn’t be any further from the truth. The truth is, if anything at all, I’m overestimating them. Giving them a fighting chance in hell is overestimating them.

Loki probably won’t find his way back to civilization again, Mr. Showtime is probably too busy struggling with his sexual identity to even prepare for such a match, and MV is too busy being foreign and butchering the English Language to think about what lies before him, and that’s the last blow to a dwindling, fading career. I don’t care that he’s been a four-time SCW Champion, I don’t care if he’s been successful as a single’s competitor, and I damn sure don’t care if he’s pinned Greg Cherry, because I wipe a donkey’s fat ass with the Greg Cherry’s of the world. Nothing’s going to change the fact that at Rise To Greatness, your futile attempts to ‘break Majestic’ will be in vain. And then, when you realize that you can’t even touch the ‘undeveloped’ wrestlers down there, as you so bluntly put it, you’ll finally, MERCIFULLY, decide that enough is enough, you’ll cry all the way back to Russia, or whatever third-world hell-hole you crawled out of.

Let me tell you something, guys. Majestic is jam-packed with some of the finest wrestlers around here. Of course, the obvious, there’s me, there’s James Exeter, there’s Michael Jay St. Claire, there’s Nathan Kaye, there’s…uh…there’s….Farmer Kid, there’s Darrin Draconis, there’s…uh…Kelly Street, or whatever our Champ’s name is…oh, let me tell you, those last three are competitors of the highest extent. There’s hardly anybody around here who can hold a candle to those guys. They’re serious professionals.

This, believe it or not, probably isn’t a dumb move on Darkwitch’s behalf, at least, business-wise. I know, I know…a Canadian doing something half-intelligent is somewhat paradoxical, but in this case, accurate. Having wrestlers from the development territory soundly defeat anybody of note would apparently cause hell to freeze over. It would create total pandemonium for every single ego in that entire locker room. Well I have some news for you, Darkwitch, and I want you to listen really, really closely. Your idea for Team SCW was a flat-out joke, and I’m very, very offended by this. And when you offend a star like me, buddy, well, you just frankly don’t know who you’ve messed with.

I’ve got the power, the influence, the money, and the time on my hands to bring this entire organization to it’s knees.

I’ve decided that I’m going to fund a little bit of a movie, if this is at all possible. With my most recent production, sending James to South America to battle Loki being a complete and total success, I can’t see any reason why I should miss with this one. It’s pure, unadulterated genius, as far as I’m concerned.

You’ve really gone and done it now…


====================
12:31 PM
Lifetime Headquarters, New York City


“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times that my answer is absolutely not. It just doesn’t make any sense for us to do this at all.”

The look on Matt Hodges face is one of particular disbelief, as he stares at the man behind the desk. The man is a bald, forty-something executive, that Matt Hodges had just got done pitching his so-called ‘bulletproof’ idea to.

Matt Hodges: What? Come on, you guys can’t reject my idea. You’re Lifetime. You’ll accept anything, you guys suck! Besides, I’d be the one funding it, anyways.

Lifetime Executive: I’m sorry, Mr. Hodges. But at this point in time, it wouldn’t make sense, nor would it be beneficial, for us to even host this so-called ‘kick ass movie idea.’

After the executive is done using those ever-annoying quotation mark hand gestures, Hodges throws in a nod, which signifies that he’s not yet ready to give up on this.

Matt Hodges: Oh, so now, you’re making fun of it? Why I oughta…

Lifetime Executive:Not at all, sir. I’m just remarking on the title.

The executive holds out what would appear to be a script. The very front page reads ‘Kick Ass Movie Idea: The Matt Hodges Story.’

Matt Hodges: Oh…yeah. But come on, man, I already told you that was only because I was rushed and wasn’t feeling very creative this morning. If it’s the title that you’re worried about, then I can rework it a little bit! How about…

Though Hodges’ eyes are shielded by his sunglasses, you can tell that he’s approaching a ‘deep’ thought process by the way his hand strokes his chin, back and forth, and back and forth.

Matt Hodges: …how about ‘Conspiracy in Wrestling: The Matt Hodges Story’? Is that one any better?

Lifetime Executive: *bluntly* No, it’s not. Listen, Mr. Hodges, It’s not-- .

Matt Hodges: Okay, then…how about ‘Mr. Darkwitch Breaks Majestic’s Hearts By Being A Total Ass Queen: The Matt Hodges Story’?

The executive rolls his eyes as he removes himself from the comfort of his big, leather chair. He picks the script up off the table and starts to pace back and forth.

Lifetime Executuve: *sighs deeply* Look, Mr. Hodges. It’s not just the title that I’m concerned about.

Matt seems to be a little bit taken aback and confused by this recent information.

Matt Hodges: Oh? What else could it possibly be, then?…

The executive quickly flips through all the pages, quickly, in less than a second.

Lifetime Executuve: Okay, well, for starters, it’s called Lifetime: Television for Women for a reason. There’s not even a woman included in the whole script. Another reason is the script is only four pages long. Most scripts are hundreds of pages long, so length is obviously an issue here.

Hodges seems to be taking note of this as he nods his head a little bit, curling his lips up into the inside of his mouth.

Matt Hodges: I told you, this was just a rough draft. I mean, I know there are some revisions that need to be made. I can add a few more scenes if you’d like, maybe throw in a couple of ladies in the background to fix that problem…

Lifetime Executive: Please, let me finish.I’m also curious as to how it’s even possible for the people on your cast list to do this movie. You have Leonardo DiCaprio playing yourself, and you have Marlon Brando playing Oleksa Drachwych.

With a perplexed look, the writer begins to pace back and forth throughout the room.

Matt Hodges: And what’s wrong with that?

The executive, before placing the script on the table, looks at Matt, wide-eyed, ostensibly in complete mortification.

Lifetime Executive: Mr. Hodges, Marlon Brando has been dead for three years!

Matt Hodges: Okay, well, then scratch that and put ‘Clint Eastwood’ down there, then, if you‘re going to be so picky. Sheesh.

Lifetime Executive: Okay, you know what? There are so many things wrong with this. You do realize, that the first three pages are all Oasis Lyrics and opening credits?

He throws in a highly dramatic shrug before he responds.

Matt Hodges: Look, If you don’t like Oasis, then you can just get the hell out of my office, buddy.

Lifetime Executive: This is MY office. And that’s really not what bothers me the most. What does bother me the most is the fact that the entire last page, the only actual part of the script, doesn’t make any sense at all.

Hodges pulls his sunglasses back over his head, revealing a little bit of sorrow in his eyes.

Matt Hodges: What do you mean it doesn’t make sense? Because personally, I thought the concept was brilliant.

Lifetime Executive: Well, Mr. Hodges, the entire back page describes a scene where you morph into a dragon and, believe this, you actually bite Oleksa Drachewych’s head off. And then, that‘s the end of the movie. It even says right here, roll credits. There are no lines, no nothing. Just that description. This isn’t even technically a script, I don’t know why I even called it that. Simply put, this is unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything so poorly constructed in all of my life. First of all, I want to stress to you that that one scene alone, would cost hundreds of thousands to pull off. Second of all…I want to ask you, just what would make you think we would host this movie idea of yours in the first place?

Clearly hurt by this statement, Hodges takes a step back and places his hand over his mouth as if to say ‘how dare you.’

Matt Hodges: Because what has been done to me is an absolute travesty in every meaning of the word. It’s an absolute travesty, I tell you! First, I receive little or no competition in Majestic, which is fine! No, I swear, as depressing as it was, I expected it. Why? Because I am just that exceptional. But when my first SCW event rolls around, what happens? I get screwed! Loki, Showtime, and MV? You tell me that jerk Oleksa did right by me! This is a great injustice that’s been done to me, and since you people generally cover movies about injustice, I figured it’d be a perfect fit for this.

He’s clearly starting to get riled up now, and the Lifetime Executive makes his way over to Hodges. He holds his script out in front of him to take, but he hasn’t done so just yet.

Lifetime Executive: I’m sorry. We can’t do this for you. I trust you understand my reasoning.

The sorrow visibly turns from sorrow and confusion to anger.

Matt Hodges: You know what? Screw you! This network traditionally makes movies about injustices, and that’s exactly what this is. You’ve done the Elizabeth Smart Story, the Laci Peterson Story, small things like that. But when it comes to a real tragedy, what do you do? You shove it to the side, and you hide it from the public. And why? Because I’m not a woman! Well I have news for you, just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t overcome adversity. You should be ashamed of yourself for not doing your job. I hope you realize he opportunity you’ve just let slip through your grubby little fingers.

He quickly snatches the script out of the Executive’s hand and turns his back on him. He starts to make his way toward the door, he opens it up and walks inside, slamming it viciously behind him.

Lifetime Executive: Uh…Mr. Hodges…that’s the closet…

The door slowly opens, and Hodges walks out, biting his bottom lip. He readjusts his sunglasses as he makes his way back across the room and out the door.


====================

9:58 PM
Undisclosed Bar, New York City


“They wouldn’t know a good idea if it slammed them in the mouth.”

The bar is loud with the sound of those oh-so-stereotypical sounds you hear in bars at Ten PM on a Friday Night. It’s a socialite’s dream, the perfect place hang out tonight-- very active, lots of people out, looking for a good time. Well, that is, all except the man who our *real* focus is, Matt Hodges. He sits, looking miserably at all the people out having fun tonight. These are the people that hadn’t had their hopes dashed. ‘The lucky ones’ he thinks to himself, as he raises his hand, as if to call for another cold one. In doing this, he nearly slips out of his chair, which would indicate that Matt is already feeling the effects of the alcohol he had consumed since his arrival. His agent, Pete, sits to his right, clearly unknowing of what he should do in this situation.

Pete Ingram: Matt…I…uh…I think you’ve had enough already.

A very depressed looking Matt Hodges slowly turns toward Pete.

Matt Hodges: Why? I hate my life…I’m facing three losers on Sunday, my movie script was rejected by Lifetime for God’s sake, and for all I know, my brother died years ago, and nobody even bothered to tell me.

Pete Ingram: Matt, you don’t even have a brother. You were an only child. Remember?

Matt Hodges: Oh, yeah…anyways, no, Pete. I don’t want to leave. I’m fully content to just sit here, all night long, and continue to drink myself to the coffin. So, you can leave if you want, but I’ll stay ’till I’m dead.

Pete Ingram: Well, first of all, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re just not thinking logically because you’re upset and drunk. And besides, it’s a little hard to drink yourself to death on two beers, especially at the rate you’re going.

Matt looks down at the table and eyes the two empty mugs that sit in front of him. Apparently, he’s something of a lightweight, but he merely shrugs Pete’s comment off as the bartender stops in front of him, placing another beer in front of him. He picks it up and takes a sip.

Matt Hodges: You’re probably right, Pete. I’m just completely trashed right now. But still, man, am I ever depressed. I thought that script was flawless.

Pete Ingram: Well, do you still have a copy of the script so I can read it?

Without looking his way, his left hand shoots up and slams the script, which looks to have had better days, onto the table. Pete, eyeballing his dejected client a bit, picks it up and begins to read. He nods as he flips through the pages. He looks a bit puzzled, which is a good display that he, too, doesn’t think this makes any sense at all.

Pete Ingram: Wow…uh…Matt…this script here, well, let me tell you, it’s…it’s really something special, if you ask me. It’s got a lot of potential.

Matt, who has already nearly finished the beer, looks up.

Matt Hodges: Really?…Because I really thought that the whole ‘Giant Dragon‘ thing illustrated the point I was trying to get across perfectly. And that was, that Matt Hodges is the boss…and Mr. De…yeah, is clearly not.

Pete Ingram: Well, uh…absolutely, Matt. I really mean it. This one scene that you wrote…I mean it. This thing has American Movie Classic written all over it. Forget Lifetime.

Matt Hodges: Well, as long as you say so…

Pete Ingram:Matt, you didn’t really need to do this in the first place, anyways. Like you’ve said, these men present no real threat to you, Michael, or James. I don’t know why you and James try to pull these harebrained stunts, anyway. Why the hell did you agree to pay for him to fly out to South America anyways?

Hodges shakes his head

Matt Hodges:Uhhhhh….for…uhh….match preparation...

Pete Ingram: Match preparation? You don’t even know if he’s from South America! It’s officially listed as ‘Far, far away!’

He looks down toward the bar, most likely in embarrassment.

Matt Hodges: Well, he could be from South America…you don’t know.

Pete Ingram: What ever happened to rational thought? Maybe the best way to prepare for a match isn’t to go to the jungle to try to maim your opponent. Hell, I guess at least James is in the right ballpark…you didn’t even attempt to prepare! You wrote a movie script!

Rising to his feet, Hodges nods.

Matt Hodges: Ah, Pete. That’s because I’m so gifted, that I don’t even need to prepare. I am just that damn good.

The rolling of Pete’s eyes practically says the word on the tip of his tongue for him: whatever.

Pete Ingram: Anyways, it’s about time to head out. You have that personal cameraman of yours coming over tomorrow to start that whole ‘video diary’ thing…*mumbles* you and your stupid ideas…

Matt Hodges: What was that?

Pete Ingram: I said it was clearly the greatest idea you’ve ever had. Come on, it’s time to get out of here.

Matt stands up with Pete and starts to walk. However, those three beers in the whole two hours they’d been there had apparently taken their toll on Hodges and forced him to find an ill-fated place on the floor. We fade to black.












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Dresser Boys
Karma's Warrior
[ *  *  * ]
Dresser Boys RP | SCW Presents Rise to Greatness | Returning to Greatness 2

OOC: Ok, now there is no way you can blame dis on M V
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Mr.Showtime
Unregistered

Your right you cant blame dis on MV if we lose, blame it on the Show if we all go down :P Sorry for the delay peeps, enjoy.

SCW's Biggest Conrtibution To Date

-Some of us live for this sport, and die because of it. Glory is reached by select few through sacrifice, proper preparation, and drive. These ingredients consist of what it takes to be a champion. These are the essentials to that of a winner. That’s what it takes to be a success. It’s what it takes for one to Rise to Greatness!! SCW’s biggest and most anticipated event is right around the corner. The event itself has everything a wrestling fanatic could possibly dream of. Emotion. Each match has meaning, there is no throwaway match on this card, and every match will be a battle. For those who wish to make a statement for supremacy, that time is now. If you ever felt that there was a time to prove yourself in an event and make your name known, that time is now. Everybody is watching, the world is watching. They will see the blood, sweat and tears that are shed in that ring. Failure is unacceptable at this stage. Why, because winners become that of immortal warriors, and the icons for the sport. The losers are remembered for the performance… but forgotten amongst those of the elite. Especially in this case. Team SCW is being represented by Mr.Showtime, Loki, and MV against three of Team Majestic’s top stars in hope to make a name for themselves. But to Showtime this wasn’t about Loki and MV being his partners, nor was is it really about the match up with Majestic at the event. It’s all about the …Rise To Greatness… Rise To Greatness… Rise To Greatness… and could he do it. His match was not the main draw much to his chagrin, and his team is the predicted underdogs of the match.

Showtime: “Dammit man... Rise To Greatness already? Man that brings back memories…”

-The scene opens up with Showtime sitting in a small office aside from a few people next to him with a laptop on his lap. There was no movement, no anything. The silence itself was deafening. He noticed a woman with long red hair had been eyeing him for the past thirty minutes. A young boy who had been trying to approach Showtime for an autograph had been restrained by his father a few times, and there were a few nurses and so forth. Other than that though nothing at all except his occasional mashing away at the keyboard. Exiting out several windows on his laptop screen. Showtime went to his desktop and on his screen appeared window…Rise To Greatness 2004 Mr.Showtime vs Death Ember (Canadian Championship)… Showtime watched the entire match until the end, which just happened to be a big “W” for the Show. To capture a title on the grandest stage of them all was possibly the biggest accomplishment of his career. -

Showtime: “Heh will the results be the same this time around…. they better be…”

-At that moment a young man entered the room holding a composition notebook tablet in one hand, and what appeared to be a mechanical device of some other in the other hand. Showtime signaled for the man to come over to him. The man approached him and extended his hand outwards to Showtime to receive nothing in return. He sat ignoring the response and immediately began to speak.-

Reporter: “Hey Showtime, I’m…

Showtime: ‘You’re nobody, so let the Show get this show on the road. I got an appointment. The doctors are checking out my neck again.”

Reporter: ‘Uhm, well ok then….”

Showtime: ‘You’re a young journalist huh?”

Reporter: “Yeah… you can tell…”

Showtime:: ‘Yeah man you aint doing to great, straighten yourself up one. Two, I’m the only guy here, it aint like your in front of a group of people. You gotta be bold, and if you want the big scoops, you gotta get deep. Because me… I don’t like journalist! The Show hates you bastards with a passion!!! You’re the reasons why so many damn people nowadays lose their minds and kill themselves and all that crap. So I’ll let you know ahead of time… getting the story out of me… it aint a easy task. So hurry up, lets go…”

Reporter: “Can I get your thoughts on Majestic and Rise To Greatness…?


Showtime: “ I guess…. I could give you a little something to work with. For starters, it looks like the Majestic crowd is… ignorant of who they are facing. I am apart… of the mothafreakin foundation that SCW was built upon, an original. I hope the Majestic boys understand the Show clearly on this… I’m what you want to become. The Show is a success. I stepped away from SCW for a few years to do a little healing, and I’ve come back older, wiser than before. It’s funny to because, these Majestic stars remind me of me years ago. They just know that their all budding stars! Everything is just so simply laid out for them… their waiting for that call up to SCW… they know their future’s lie ahead of them. They got flare, fire, and confidence. But there’s one thing I just know from a fact and experience, these silly ambitious ‘boys’ haven’t seen reality yet! And experience is something you don't get until just after you need it! These dudes don’t know the history of the success that’s Showtime. Brief schooling lesson peeps; I am the first EVER Light Heavyweight Champion in SCW history! I held the Canadian title, and the Intercontinental title! I was a member of the original Dynasty which would stomp circles around the current. Don’t let my current standing in the company fool you. I just returned what, a little over a month ago. And ever since, I’ve been tormented and ridiculed to no end about my teaming with Mayhem. They say it’s killed all my previous status, and automatically I’m just jobber feed or something. Foolish…all of’em just foolish. There will be some broken souls come Rise To Greatness. SCW will be pleased because the Show will be triumphant. Majestic will be put in their places. This match which the wannabe SCW are in is an opportunity for you all. For me, pssh I’m just reppin’ SCW! And simply put, the Show’s made it and you haven’t! That Breakdown when the Show sat in that chair, that night where the ol’ boss spoke, ‘Showtime you want gold right!?’ Of course I responded optimistically. But in my mind on that Breakdown, the Show looked to his left and to his right to see his teammates and was dumbfounded. What the hell was the boss doing to me!? I was the carrier of this team by default. The quarterback, shit no no the coach!”

-The reporter was jotting in his composition notebook furiously and holding his recorder to Showtime all at once. He was a bit perplexed actually. No one man talked this much in an interview… at least not this damn much without much of a break! And here the young reporter thought that this would be an interview where he’d be under intense pressure to get a word out of Showtime…-

Showtime: “I could see I was the chosen man to get this SCW team over the hump for victory. It’s just… lacking.... and I can’t believe the talent that the boss placed me with. Loki aka ‘I don’t know where the hell I am,’ what can the Show say about him!? That guy is just out there… like by himself waaaay out there! And MV… a Dresser Boy… what more to say? He knows to not embarrass the SCW!”

-Showtime laughed as he mocked his SCW teammate. The reporter continued onward with the interview.-

Reporter: “Can you talk about your teammates that way and still coexist?”

Showtime: “Well, he is a former tag team champion with all do respect though. But being real, the Show… is the only one with anything to lose in this match. James Exeter, Matt Hodges, Michael Jay St. Clair all get the opportunity to face an SCW star and each one proves more ungrateful than the next man. A Michael Jay St. Claire… spoke of the Show in a… tone… that was just unacceptable to me dammit! My presence feeds his ego? IT SHOULD! Ya need an SCW rewind, so you can see ME Rise To Greatness with your own eyes. I’m not worried about Majestic. Majestic and their boastful talking doesn’t frighten me. Matt Hodges, possibly more unappreciative than both his other teammates is saying shit such as envisioning his first match in SCW being more glamorous! This is the biggest stage of them all and yet your complaining!? You want a debut on Breakdown where you’ll most likely be thrown away in a dark match and never seen again. Oh it’s happened, it’s happened to so many like you. It seems somebody’s picked up quite the ego competing in the lower ranks. You’re the prototype, right? What every man wants to be and what every woman wants… original man, very original. Never been pinned before in a match. Well, we’ll see if we can change that come Rise To Greatness. The Show will truly go out of his way to make this a special night for you. I want to make this a night you remember. And when you leave I want you to remember the name of the victor, Showtime will be that victor. Lastly there is SCW hopeful James Exeter. He believes the biggest mistake SCW could possibly make… is showing up. You know what, that could be true. One thing I can say is that if SCW show’s up…more so if Showtime show’s up… somebody’s going to the hospital on Team Majestic. All of these guys… one in the same… man how the times haven’t changed for shit. I can’t pick one arrogant prick from another…”

Reporter: “Ok hmm… actually that’s a lot of what I needed. That was more than what I needed. Thank you…”

-Showtime interrupts quickly

Showtime: ‘But the Show aint finished yet! And finally, I still just do not believe they exactly know, what Rise To Greatness is. When you actually step foot in the ring, in front of the biggest and craziest of audiences, you step away from the small shitty unknown world of Majestic and enter the insanely endowed world of mine, SCW. This is where my damn career took off at, and this where I hope I can end it! The Show isn’t about some company rivalry… pssh or honestly about directing the careers of others. But I will clearly and directly show you why you belong in Majestic and not SCW. There’s a thick line separating the two companies, it’ll become apparent soon enough.”

Reporter: ‘Ok sir, are you…”

Showtime: ‘I’m done dammit, so you can go on and get the hell on now.”

-The young reporter fumbles around with his materials before finally collecting himself and exiting the small office. Showtime looked at his watch and decided to approach the front desk where a slightly overweight middle age woman took to his attention.-

Clerk: “Can I help you?”

Showtime: “Yeah I got an appointment and…”

Clerk: ‘And the doctor is out for lunch.”

Showtime: ‘How long till’ she gets back? Ya see I’m a professional wrestler and…”

Clerk: ‘And I said the doctors out for lunch! She’ll be back in an hour or so! Please take a seat sir!’

Showtime: ‘You old piece of shit, don’t raise your voice with me! If the Show had a seven footers wingspan, and could bench press 500 pounds, I’d smack you from 5 feet away through this damn wall!

-With that said the woman behind the desk stood up and began yelling a number of not so pleasant words at the SCW star… but none of them were heard as he just ignored the woman and exited the building.-

Showtime: ‘I just hope my damn neck is ok.. fuck the doctor… I say I can go.”

----Hours Later---

-The scene reopens with Showtime standing in a room that he had visited weeks ago. A large empty room he referred to as his “Wall of Reflection.” Here is where he unleashed his true thoughts, and unbiased opinions of things, life in general. He held a black sharpie marker that comfortably sat behind his right ear and slightly in his afro. Each step he took sounded off throughout the room with a large echo. He began jotting away, there was a lot to talk about… to himself, this time around. This was yet another time where he needed to reevaluate his stance on his career and what path he was headed down. -

I got nowhere to go but up, and being in this match at the biggest paper view of them all lets me see it. I mean sure I just returned and the wheel s aren’t rolling as I’d like just yet, but damn, Team SCW versus Team Majestic. The boss is trippin man, what the hell am I doing in this match against a bunch of young newcomers. I couldn’t have got a title shot or hmm… anything else off my name alone!? Has my stock fallen like that? Things have changed… but as much as they do, they stay the same. Just as my opponents. They love themselves. The common belief is that SCW has sent out its job squad to handle team Majestic. There are so many wrestlers I could compare myself to, classic and one day Hall of Famer’s. Everybody who’s in the wrestling Hall of Fame didn’t necessarily get things poppin’ off at the beginning of their careers. Some of them took the route of jobbers….some of them aint got the talent or natural ability right from the get go, and it’s obvious. Some had worked their asses off and seemingly had that slow build until they reached main event status down the line in their careers. Some of these guys come out with a BANG! The company backing them as hard as possible and are pushed to the moon…. ya know they see the guys as potential moneymakers without much… info. This is where so many other factors come into play and others aint exactly allowed to flourish. The last huge factor is that damn infamous glass ceiling! The Show doesn’t fit the bill of either of the first two areas, and I see this one most appropriate for me. I didn’t start out as a jobber, and I didn’t enter the wrestling world with much backing or support. It was just me backing me. I brought myself success. The main event scene can be completely decked at times. Sometimes there is no room and your forced to stay in the current position your in, no matter the talent level. Think a Chris Jericho, Mr.Perfect, hell even a Matt Hardy! All these guys at some point in time could have been the guy! The crowd and world supported them but the company remained blind to their talents and how much the world wanted to see them succeed. While I feel I fall into that category… I aint trying to remain there. The Show has to much to offer, and to much untapped potential to remain in the background. In the long run for this company I see myself as much more that SCW champion. I see myself as an Icon! Somebody that’s posing on cereal boxes, world famous. I’m in this for the accolades the fame and so forth. Making a few friends along the way is cool, but I aint in this for them, I’m in it for me. Always have been and always will be. I will die on top of the mountain, and if the Show doesn’t make it, I wanna make sure that it wasn’t because of anybody else, but me. This match at Rise To Greatness could be that blessing in disguise. I dunno what was going through the bosses mind, whether I was looked at as some feeder to be thrown in… or what. I refuse to write the names of the Majestic stars on my wall and taint it! They are stars from a feeder company who are being handed an opportunity to big for them to comprehend. Team SCW is being written off already, that’s an insult. Does my fuckin’ team get this!?We’re the better and more accomplished stars but a realist as well I can be the most self criticizing superstar, and the most arrogant one all in one trip. The Show can be used to elevate other talent and at the same time slide in and out of the upper card. I don’t care who the hell’s looking down on me… because soon enough I’ll be pissing down on everybody. My time is coming… I aint a prophet but the future’s is so damn clear to me. I’m getting the jitters because I can feel the legacy of Showtime once again due for another rise. All the traits are their with me… how can I place these elements together and put together the ultimate superstar. Rise To Greatness seems like the perfect place for me to go in and accomplish that. My opponents are arrogant, I’m arrogant, and my teammates… I dunno what more to say about them that I haven’t said today already. The interview I had earlier today will be released to the press soon enough and they’ll hear all the shit I talked… well again… this is more so about me than… Team SCW, Majestic or anything else. It’s all about the Rise To Greatness for me. SCW don’t doubt me… Majestic… don’t doubt me. I will show the world just how dedicated I am… to my profession…I’m obsessed dammit. The Show will not end on a sour note. In the end... I wont be able to bear it if I'm not Hall of Fame material.-

-Showtime stopped writing and placed his marker in the pockets of his all black Gibaud jeans. He looked at his white tee-shirt which had an image of himself on it and himself ripping an SCW shirt off of his chest. Shaking his hand from the ridiculous amount of writing he had just done.-

Showtime: ‘Damn… I know how Moses felt now. Not only because of all the damn writing… I gotta lead a group of chaps to victory even though it aint what I asked for…”

- A day had now passed and the interview has been released and the wrestling world and community is buzzing. There are so many question’s heading into SCW’s main paper view Rise To Greatness. As crazy as it sounds the big question is can the SCW stars pull off an upset and defeat the elite of Majestic? The next big question is, why the hell was Showtime selected and he obviously isn’t even attempting to show himself as a team player. The interview that Showtime had the other day at a doctors office was blunt and honest, even if a bit exaggerated. His “Wall of Reflection” while more in depth with focused thoughts and less macho talk, essentially still gave off the same vibe. Showtime was in this clearly for himself. Not for Team SCW, or for the total purpose of defeating Majestic and putting them in their places. This was for the furthering of his career and adding on to his legacy.

We find Showtime once again sitting in an office, this time a larger office and a vast more amount of people. Showtime sat in a metal chair with a newspaper covering his face in an attempt to hide his identity. He didn’t want the insane rush of fans and so forth running up on him while he was… in the office. Today posed as a big day for him. He was to represent Team SCW in a press conference in his hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. It was noon now and in a few hours he needed to be downtown in the city to make it to the conference on time. He placed the newspaper on top of his hair and began digging around in his pockets to pull out his cell phone. It was off. For the sole purpose of keeping his focus on Rise To Greatness it was off. No promiscuous women, no partying no hanging out with old friends. Rise To Greatness was Showtime’s current priority. Against his will he turned his cell phone on to see several text messages and missed calls. Only a couple actually had drew his attention. There was a message from Mayhem… but Showtime quickly cut his cell phone off.-

Showtime: “Sorry Mayhem… no distractions…”

-Showtime felt a tap on his shoulder and removed the newspaper from the top of his afro. He looked up to see a man standing over him with hair seemingly graying and falling out. His name tag read Mr.Stein-

Mr.Stein: “It’s your turn son.”

Showtime: “Hmm ok then. Tell me where I need to go.”

Mr.Stein: “Just go right through those double doors and make a right.”

-Showtime slowly paced himself as he walked towards the double doors. He looked back at the older man Mr.Stein with a somewhat confused face. Mr.Stein flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, so Showtime continued forward through the double doors. And made a left around the first corner. He saw a nurse standing in front of the door he was told to enter and spoke.-

Showtime: ‘So you work here…?”

Nurse: “Yes, I do. How can I help you?”

Showtime: “Actually, in more ways than one.”

-Showtime winked at the woman and then nodded his head in the direction of the room hoping she’d follow him inside… she did and the scene faded out. The scene reopened with Showtime rolling through the double doors in a wheel chair…. a wheelchair!? The same nurse who entered the room with him was pushing him from behind. Showtime rolled his way out of this office and outside. He waited on the sidewalk for his ride. Minutes later a limousine pulled up and out came four large men who were Showtime’s bodyguards..-

Bodyguard1: “Show what happened!? Did you get jumped!?”

Showtime: “No man I’m fine… well kinda sorta at least. Pull the car up some.”

Bodyguard1: “Ok yes, sir.”

-The four body guards all immediately got back inside the guard and the limo was pulled up to the side walk. One of the large bodyguards opened the limo and Showtime barely stood, and threw himself inside the limo with the energy he had landing on his stomach in the back seat. The bodyguards shrugged their shoulders and didn’t exactly understand the situation or what had happened. Three of the four bodyguards were now back inside the car as one stayed outside of it folding the wheelchair and placing it inside the limo. Then quickly they rode off into downtown Atlanta. Showtime lay in the back seat quivering in pain, all his bodyguards knew something was up.-

Bodyguard1: “Man what’s wrong with you? Why did you leave the office in a wheel chair.”

Showtime: “If I wanted to tell you, trust me you’d know… you’ll figure out along with the rest of the world man. Hehe…”

-Showtime couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. The info he was to release during the press conference was BIG news. Minutes later they had finally arrived to a large building where there were photographers and fans standing outside the limo waiting for Showtime to get out. The limo had come to a halt. The bodyguards had gotten out of the car and opened the door. One stood with the wheel chair in hand unfolding it and placing it on the side of the limo which Showtime slithered out of and wiggled into his wheelchair. The crowd which was so lively at the arrival at the limo, had become damn near silent. To see Showtime in a wheelchair was something that caught everyone off guard. His bodyguards surrounded him and pushed him down the aisle quickly. Showtime still acknowledged his somewhat silent audience by waving and slapping a few hands down the aisle before entering the large building. The building itself was jammed pack, with many fans from Atlanta Georgia and from other states who had come to hear the promotion of SCW’s great event, Rise To Greatness. Showtime was rolled by his bodyguards through the main entrance to the backstage area of a large auditorium room filled with crazed fans. The program was to begin in 3…2…1… -

Host: ‘Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! We are honored and privileged tonight with our guest from Supreme Championship Wrestling. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty five pounds, he was born and bred here in Atlanta Georgia! He is SCW’s first EVER Light heavyweight champion, he is a one time Canadian champion, and a one time Intercontinental champion!... this is the one, the only MIIIIIIIIIIISTERRRR SHOOOOOWTIME!”

-Showtime’s theme music ‘Untouchable’ by 2pac and Bone Thugz N’ Harmony blasts over the sound system. The crowd goes buts at the mention of his name! It was nostalgia at it’s finest! A hometown superstar who had come home to give his supporters his thoughts on Rise To Greatness! The crowd was wild… that is until the moment the crowd saw Showtime rolled out in a wheel chair. His bodyguards trailed him as he began to roll his way over to the microphone. He spun around in his wheelchair while waving his hands in the air in an attempt to get a reaction from the audience. But instead got nothing but shocked and saddened faces. Cheers that were heard were being drowned out by the chatter amongst the crowd about Showtime’s current state. Deciding to waist no more time Showtime rolled over to the podium and was handed a microphone from the host. Deciding to get right down to business Showtime decided to let the world have it.-

Showtime: “Man it feels good to be back HOME, in Atlanta! Let’s get this conference under way. Your one time Light Heavyweight champion, Canadian champion, and Intercontinental champion is here to answer your questions and entertain you!!”

-Their were a panel of several reporters who sat several feet in front of Showtime with microphones in hand ready for questions.-

Reporter1: “So Showtime, there was a report about you insulting not only you opponents but you own teammates, can you explain that?

Showtime: ”I’ve heard all the reports thus far about my status on Team SCW. I’ve told media before already about how I’ve felt. Everything about me so far that you have read… is probably true.”

Reporter1: “So does this mean you’re going to trust you teammates?

Showtime: “No.”

Reporter2: “Do you have any faith in them what so ever?”

Showtime: “No.”

Reporter: “Do you plan on discussing strategy with them?”

Showtime: ‘You know, the Show will discus strategy with Loki and MV before Rise To Greatness… only and if only… they can agree to follow the mighty mighty Show! I’ve seen the biggest baddest and ugliest people you can imagine seeing in the ring!”

Reporter2: “What happened to you? Why are you in a wheelchair and will you even be able to compete at Rise To Greatness?”

-Showtime paused for a moment and just glared momentarily at the woman who had just asked him the question. He rose an eyebrow, and the replaced his stoic expression with a wide grin.-

Showtime: “I thought none of you would ever ask. See you all know that the Show said he will do anything to get to the promise land in SCW. And ya know I’m dedicated to my profession and I’ll do anything… and I mean anything to move forward. You know how Martin Luther King wanted to get to the promise land but he said that he may not make it there with us… DAMMIT, I’m making it to the promise land in this lifetime! I aint going out like MLK!!! Rise To Greatness is a new beginning for the SHOW! No scratch that, this moment is the new beginning! You, the Showstalkers! My fan’s, the media, my enemies, my family your balled up into one now! Every person wanting to get there Showtime fix, is now to be identified as a SHOWSTALKER from THIS DAY FORWARD!”

-A round of applause is heard at his brief speech but its quickly interrupted by a reporter.-

Repotrer3: “You still haven’t told us why your in the wheelchair. Care to explain?”

Showtime: ‘I made the biggest deposit in SCW history today… and it cost me all my physical strength.”

Reporter3: ‘And was this a money deposit…?”

Showtime: ‘I guess you can say it’s a money deposit in a sense! Let’s say I’ve impregnated SCW.”

-A lot of chatter comes about amongst the room. Showtime decides to go ahead and clarify his statement.-

Showtime: “Showtime is gonna be a father… to potentially 30 future SCW stars!”

-The chatter grew even louder in the room even the reporters themselves were beginning to chatter amongst themselves. Showtime looked about the audience smiling and allowing them to digest what they’d just heard. A couple of the reporters took their mics off briefly for a second so their statements couldn’t be heard aloud.-

Showtime: “That’s right people! Earlier today I went to a sperm bank, and decided I would make a deposit for the SCW community for the future! One of these bastards will be SCW champion some day!!!”

Reporter1: “What the…’

Reporter2: “Oh my god…”

Showtime: “YES! Ya see people I do care about SCW! The Show is already apart of the past, the Show is getting ready to take over in the current, and I’m preparing a legion for the future! This is my dedication to SCW! I sure as hell don’t care about Majestic. I refuse to give my three opponents at Rise To Greatness any type proper acknowledgment in such a grand moment for SCW. If they were in SCW… could you see them giving something along the lines of this!? They’ll give some sweat, tears, and some of their blood… but look at it like this… I’m giving SCW all of that tenfold! The Show has spoken and the show is over and out! Watch Rise To Greatness on paper view! If you cant afford paper view, get a black box… there still circulating. I’m going out of my way to please you… so you all go out of your way to see Showtime and his affiliates whoop Team Majestic’s asses all over the Rise To Greatness arena! This aint listed as the main event of the show but I’ll damn sure make sure it is! Usually the last match is the main event… but I’ll take of that. Leave it to Show! So now, the Show’s Over and out!”

-Showtime and his bodyguards than began to roll out of the auditorium while being hounded by several reporters wanting more information on Showtime and his ‘deposit’ to SCW and what triggered such an event. Showtime had definitely given the people and the media to talk about for a long time to come. With his speech though, a new energy had been inserted into the Team SCW and Majestic match up for Rise To Greatness. Showtime knew he’d be one hundred percent when the time came, and that he could give it his all. As he was rolled back to his limo the thoughts just kept running through his head… I’m doing it… I can feel it. Foolishness can be the only reason anybody would right off the Show. The simplistic approach of the cocky Majestic stars will be their obvious undoing… while me… I show my dedication… to the world and to the public. SCW aint gonna have a choice but to back me now, The biggest event, Rise To greatness… damn its good to be back home. I may not be on the same page as my SCW mates and don't care to be… and Majestic may be all together… as a unit… but that’s not enough to stop the most talented, dominant influence and the main draw of this match, Showtime, or the SCW'ers who are along for the ride. This Rise To Greatness 2007, marks the year taht the Show begins again. And as for the future... me and my children… will rule this ring…and become one of those legendary wrestling families and crap! Those who don’t follow in their fathers footsteps… will have to drag me on Maury before I admit I’m their damn daddy! For right now though… Rise To Greatness is my priority and my stepping stone to reestablish myself as a force… or rather THE FORCE.

-The scene fades out with Showtime widely smiling to himself and eyes just… that appeared to be lost. His bodyguards were looking at him with a questioning glances. -

Bodyguard1: ‘That dude has lost it… he finally cracked. He finally officially sold himself to the business… damn. Another one for the bad guys.”
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Matt Hodges
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edit: weird...my bad.
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Matt Hodges
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“Get out.”

A shirtless Matt Hodges sits on the very edge of the bed, as he finishes readjusting his boxers. The blonde woman laying under the bed covers pokes her up in shock.

“What did you say?” She responds.
“You heard me. I said get out.”

It seems to have even more of a stinging effect the second time it rolled off the tip of his tongue. Judging by the insensitivity in his voice, you would probably jump to the conclusion that Matt had already gotten all he wanted from this particular young lady, and jump you should. For the last hour, he had used her for exactly what he needed; a woman to physically and emotionally connect with, minus the emotional part. In short, she was nothing more than a sucker to Matt. That whole five minutes it took for him to persuade her to ‘escort him’ back to his hotel room beforehand really seemed worth it, now.

As the young woman removes herself from the bed in search of her clothes, Hodges lets out a sigh of relief. ‘That was a long time coming,’ he thought to himself, and then, laughed out loud as he remembers how ironic it was that he just said the word ‘coming’ to himself. Though the woman has absolutely no idea of the real, true reason he laughed to himself, she blurts out, “You’re just sick.”

Even more provocation for Hodges to laugh. He knew what he had done to the poor young woman was depraved, and frankly, he didn’t care, either. He loved having sex with women he barely knew. To him, it involved just the right amount of emotional attachment-- none. He hated the very thought of commitment. It unsettled him in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The fact that he could have sex with a woman he barely even knew was something of a godsend to him because that was the only way he could be one-hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t feel anything once he forcefully kicked them to the curb. And besides, he had grown accustomed to the lonely feeling that the business of wrestling often made it’s workers feel, and had managed to cope with said loneliness without the use of painkillers.

Suddenly, he cringes as he seems to have remembered something. He didn’t pull out, and he didn’t wear a love sheath, either.

“Hey…just a quick question for you, if you don’t mind,” he says, not entirely void of emotion this time.
“What?” She asks, as she finishes slipping her shirt back on.

“You don’t have anything, right? Like, no Chlamydia, Herpes…HIV?” Hodges had jumped the gun so quickly that he hadn’t even thought to stop at a convenient store to pick up any condoms. The thought of contracting some Sexually Transmitted Disease terrified him, which, you’d think, would be all the more reason for him to wrap his tool.

“You’re disgusting. I can’t even believe you.”
“Well,” he begins, “in my defense, you’re obviously a bit of a slut, since you slept with me and don’t even know my name. Clearly, you can see my cause for concern, here.”

The disbelief in her eyes is palpable, to say the very least. “Oh my god,” is the only thing that she can conjure up to say to him. In case you can’t tell, Matt Hodges is an extremely selfish individual. He’s one of those people who can just get done wronging somebody in the worst kind of way, and not even feel bad about it in the slightest. In fact, in doing these wrongs, it sometimes even has the power to incite even more selfishness, as was just exemplified by his questioning of whether or not the woman was clean.

As he watches her pull up her pants, he can’t help but to relive the past, because this exact moment was strangely reminiscent of times passed. Déjà vu. He had ample opportunity before to enter a devoted, loving relationship, and each time, without second-guessing himself, had casually tossed these opportunities to the side. This of course, was not to say that this had the potential to be more than just a booty-call. The setting was just right to cause some form of memory to sift into the picture.

“Someday,” she says, indignantly, standing in front of the door, “you’re really going to get what’s coming to you. And I hope that day is sooner than later.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Haven’t heard that one before. Buh-bye now.” He throws in a shameless, sarcastic wave goodbye and a good-bye kiss.
“Rot in hell.”

In this event, she would have to be the winner of that elusive ‘last word’ as before Hodges could respond, the door was slammed in brutal fashion. He stands up, readjusts his boxers, so a certain friend doesn’t make an unscheduled appearance, and makes his way toward the phone sitting on the dresser, which he had turned silent in the wake of his recent activities. Opening the phone up with an exhausted groan, he notices that he’s had a couple of missed phone calls.

All from Pete. Surprise, surprise. He rolls his eyes

He clicks the ‘send’ button and holds the phone up to his ear. After a couple of seconds of waiting, there’s somebody on the other line.

“What the hell have you been doing for the past hour, Matt?” The agitated voice of Pete Ingram rings out.
“Having sex,” he bluntly states.
“Oh…well…uh…I guess that explains a lot.”
“Yeah. Anyways, what do you want, you swine?”
“That kid called me several times to inform me that you weren’t answering your door.”
“What kid?” Hodges sounds a little surprised.
“The kid you hired to film your video diary,” he says. “Don’t you remember? You told him ten o’clock sharp, room 219, at the St. Regis, unless you forgot.
“Uh…I guess I didn’t hear the knocking over her screaming.”
“Okay, that’s just fantastic. Well, just so you know, he called me several times, telling me he wasn’t sure if that was even your room or not. So I told him to leave and go downstairs to the bar for a little bit.”
Hodges lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “You damn well had better call him back and tell him to get his ass back here.”

CLICK!

He shuts his phone and looks around the rather messy apartment. ‘I’ve got to tidy this up a bit if that kid even comes back,’ he thinks to himself, and starts to pick the myriad of clothing articles off the floor and carry them to a hamper in the far left corner of the room. Then, he makes his way over to the dresser and pulls out some clothes. Just a white T-shirt and a pair of baby-blue Adidas Shorts, something quick and easy to throw on.

Once he‘s done dressing himself, he sits down on the bed, waiting for the young man. Seconds move to minutes, and Hodges sits, impatiently waiting. “What’s taking this kid so long?…” Patience isn’t something you’d call a staple in Hodges’ life, either. He could make the brief period of time he’s been waiting for the young man seem like he’d been waiting for hours. He waits some more, for, to him, what seems to be an eternity, and then…

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Hodges stands up off of the bed and walks over to open the door.

The young man on the other side is blonde, short, and fragile-looking.

“You’re late,” Hodges says to him, exasperated.
“Actually, I--” He stops mid-sentence, noticing the dirty look Matt was giving him, and changes winds with, “meant to apologize for that. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Matt nods and motions for him to come into the apartment. “It’s okay. I’ll let it go, just this once. But you’re right…it had damn well not better happen again. Now let‘s get this show on the road.”


====================


Video Diary of Matt Hodges
Part One, Filmed by Adrian Barton.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Is this being filmed in black and white?”
*whispered* Yes…
“Okay, good. It’s more dramatic that way.”

*AHEM.*

“Look at all of the great names that will one day line the SCW Hall Of Fame. Men like Damian Angel….Cid Turner…Delusion…The Canadian Heart Break Kid…the current SCW Champion, Xander Valentine…Mayhem…the list goes on and on of the stars of today and of yesterday alike that have already started, finished, and are still not done fulfilling their legacies.

A legacy is something that every man or woman who enters this game wants to leave behind. I don’t care who you are or where you’re from, if you’re telling me as a wrestler that you don’t want your name to be etched in the minds of wrestling enthusiasts everywhere, you’re a dirty liar. You take a look at some people in Majestic who have already started their ‘legacies’ and you can’t help but think to yourself it’s nothing more than a joke. These are all wrestlers who have delusions of grandeur, and think that simply because they’ve already had their fifteen minutes of fame, the sky’s the limit. These people, the Chloe Street’s, the Nathan Kaye’s of the world, simply must be smoking crap. Well let me tell you, that the only thing that’s going to take them down a few notches, and bring them back to reality, is to take a good, hard look at the Prototype.

Go ahead. Look at me. Admire me. Good God, I’m perfect. BAM! Perfection personified.

Sorry to disappoint you losers with a near overdose of reality, but it was needed. You’ll thank me later, once you come back down to Planet Earth. Now lately, I’ve been thinking about how great I am, like I often do, because like I said, I’m perfect. But also, I think about how at this particular stage in my career, I have failed in sorts. I feel like the legacy that I’ve left so far is pretty pedestrian, all things considered. So I’ve been sizing up guys in SCW, and thinking to myself, ‘What sets a Xander Valentine apart from a Matt Hodges?’ Well, I mean there’s the obvious things, such as, I’m much better looking than he is, I don’t practice necrophilia, etcetera, etcetera. But these things are all trivial when it comes down to the crux of the matter. So, what exactly have I decided, genius that I am, sets us apart?

It’s stupid to think that a legacy, a good one, at least, is entirely defined by accomplishments. But let’s not beat around the bush, here. Men like Xander Valentine, Cid Turner, CHBK, they’ve all won ‘the big one’, they’ve all come through in the clutch. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve held my share of Gold in the past, but of course, the one that’s often eluded me, was the big one. Now, admittedly, this was because I had never actually been booked for a match with a Heavyweight Champion, or else it wouldn’t be haunting me right now, because I would’ve won it. Nonetheless, the fact remains that I’ve never been at the helm of an organization.

Accomplishments, though meaningful, are at the same time, meaningless in the grand scheme of things in comparison. There are much more important things to be taken into account. I mean, as much as former Champions like the Real Speed would like to argue with you, a Heavyweight Title Belt does not say a thousand words. The fact that you walk around, hauling it around over your shoulder, shoving it in everybody’s face does not make you a great in the sport. You shouldn’t ever have to remind everybody of why you’re great with a Championship Belt. For example, I don’t even think that the twenty-six World Series Championships the Yankees have amassed means nearly as much to it’s fans as it’s desire to keep improving, to keep winning. It’s the moments where the individual takes a hold of the moment, which, for a few brief seconds, can help them transcend the sport altogether, if only for those few brief moments afterward. Think in terms of amazing sporting moments, like, CHBK’s ropewalk suicide dive, or to stray away from wrestling, Derek Jeter’s jumping bare-handed flick to the catcher to get that out. Things that average sports fans everywhere sit at home, and think, ‘Wow. If I weren’t so morbidly obese, I might be able to do that!’

Intangibles. Those unprecedented things that can’t be touched by the hand. A Heavyweight Title Belt is material, it doesn’t tell any kind of a story, and to think that it defines your career is utter idiocy. We’re talking things that most past Champions have: Dedication, Will, Determination. As scary-looking and unkempt as a Xander Valentine is, by God, he’s got intangibles in spades, and I don’t think I know anybody who would tell you otherwise. I’m not saying these are things that I don’t have, by any stretch of the imagination. But I think it’s about time that I let these things shine above everything else.

These things are obviously things that my opponents for Rise To Greatness do not have. How long have they been in the game, and how long as each individual failed to make an impression? I guess you could make an argument that MV has made an impression of sorts. I mean, after all, he does belong to an elite club. The Club of people who’ve lost to Mitch Doogan. Ouch. That must be…something. No, these men are pathetic, and that’s being nice about it. I can’t believe that this is what Drachewych envisioned Team SCW being comprised of. Guys who don’t have what it takes to get the job done. People who aren’t fit to scrub the jock straps of the curtain-jerkers.

I even heard Showtime tell me that I was unappreciative. He made some lame statement about how I should be grateful that I was making my Debut on the biggest stage SCW has to offer, and that it was better than being tossed into some dark match on Breakdown, never to be seen again. So, how can I be so ungrateful? Because he sucks. And that’s about it. I’d never even heard of him before Exeter called me to tell me who we were facing. I think my exact words were… “Who?” You know, for some bottom-rung loser, the guy sure has some mouth on him. I’ll have to remedy that on Sunday, now, won’t I?

I’ll have to make the best of what’s given to me. Tomorrow night, James, Michael, and myself are all going to have to do that. Even though we’re going to chew them up and spit them out, we have to do it with a big smile on our faces…for Majestic.

NOT. For Majestic? Please. I crack myself up. We’re going to do it for ourselves, and after it’s all done with, those poor souls are going to regret ever talking down to us.

Yeah. We’re going to show them who’s down in the lower ranks…




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