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| Underground Invitational; SCW Underground Championship | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 15 2010, 09:33 PM (737 Views) | |
| Mr. D | Feb 15 2010, 09:33 PM Post #1 |
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The SCW Owner and Leader of the Nation of Moderation
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![]() Two for One Special Underground Invitational SCW Underground Championship IWC thread: http://z13.invisionfree.com/Independent_Ca...p?showtopic=878 2 RP limit Deadline: 6:59PM EST Saturday, February 27, 2010 Already Entered: Rachel Foxx Too Magnificent David Helms Max Craven Thorn Fox Arcane Bishop Steele Dillusion Riggs Damian Angel Jessica Raines More names to be entered |
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| XdpK | Feb 18 2010, 09:10 PM Post #2 |
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Kills Unicorns
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So now its time for my time in the spotlight or atleast my time to rant about things and try to get some shameless attention of some sort. on breakdown i lost not that i care I got some money but I think Drychawych was throwing that pocket change at me out of spite but HAHAHA. I used it on the bubblegum machine and got a big blue gum ball so who here is the winner and who here is the loser... Ok probably still Jack Starr and Probably still me the loser but that gum was good so I feel fufilled and thats what really counts for me. I havent been able to win the big ones much through out my career so Its not like i am going to shed a tear or anything its the same old story the better man one even though he is still a Cid Turner clone and one day i will get Cid's DNA back for him. Or maybe I will just keep it in a jar under my bed. Don't get me wrong I like winning but losing i excel at more lately and its much easier to do. I've learned things from my time in SCW I use to get stressed out about losing i took a 8 month hiatus when I lost to Greg Cherry and it probably would have been longer if he was as husky as he is now. Its time to move on because in the end I am getting what I want and that is a shot at the underground title. A chance to cause some good old fashion carnage. We got IWC guys we got SCW guys we got guys who think they are girls we got girls that like to fight guys! We got girls that like to fight guys! Its going to be a beautiful study of the human condition the human condition that is beating each other with what ever we can to the point of unconciousness. I LOVE it I love how we humans can just brutilize each other for no reason other then entertainment. Do you see birds scrapping each others heads against cheese gratters? No that would never happen. We love to fight each other we love to kill each other that is the beauty of being human. And at the 2 for 1 special i have been invitited to take part in the glorious violence. Rachel Foxx you've shown that you love violence you are the most deserving of being underground champion at the moment. But that moment is ending that moment where you get to call yourself the Queen of hardcore is going to end. THIS WILL END I will be the queen of hardcore...wait... that didnt sound right at all. I will be the GOD of hardcore... no wait thats speed... I miss speed we never properly got to beat the flesh from each others skins like we were destined to. He is the one person that I wish would enter this match to do battle with Speed once more that would inspire me to drag myself up back to the level i once was. To clash kendo sticks with the real speed would give me inspiration to give it my all instead of having the urge to have a long nap mid match that i do nowadays its good i dont actually go with that urge. No one has challenged me as the most insanely violent bastard in SCW its like its my undisputed rule. I need to be challenged and hopefully hopefully I will get just that at the 2 for 1 special. I want to bleed i want to make others bleed. ![]() Now the IWC guys I am not familiar with I had that crazy women come up to me while i was having a drink and trying to teach Ninja how to act like a drunk. While not being drunk. He failed miserably and then this girl Katelyn Buehler shows up and asks for my spot in the underground invitational and me I find that insulting and surpising since I thought that any one could show up for this but thankfully that isnt the case thankfully my spectacular pet Ninja cant enter he ruined the last invitational on me and I refuse to let him ruin yet another. This time I am not going to be embarassingly pinned by some dork that i cant even remeber his name. This girl was as cooky as a box of cookie crisp. She offered me sex even for my spot now if it was any invitational but the underground title I ve been hoping for this opportunity I've been praying for this chance and I will finally get myself some respect. Yes after all these years of being the never was or almost was I am going to win the underground title and become the SECOND supreme champion in SCW history. Maybe i'll then top that by winning the womans title that will show em... show em i can beat women. wait that probably isnt the best way to get over... but it does seem that in IWC beating women is the thing to get over as a baby face. Now I never approved of beating on women but to get what I want I am going to have to beat a women or beat some one that beat Rachel so in that beat a women. in the end i have made that decision that If Rachel foxx gets in my way of becoming the Second Supreme champion in SCW history then I will beat her. If jessica raines from IWC gets in my way I will beat her as well. it doesnt matter who gets in my way I will leave the 2 for 1 special the second supreme champion in scw history.... Now that is why i refused Miss Buehlers request. Thats why i told her there was no way I could give it up despite offers of sex and money this isnt about that kind of greed. This is the kind of greed that involves making your legacy sit I know that if I win this match my legacy will be cemented all my losing streaks all my humilating loses will be forgotten. Because I wont be Dillusion the guy that couldnt put it together to Dillusion the Supreme champion... Yea that will be good. See Despite part of me wanting to do the right thing and give my spot up to the vengeful Miss Buehler. On my profile on supremecw.com it even says im face. So of course my first idea is to go and help this woman. but then lets add in the fact that shes a heel i've been helping a lot of heels..why dont faces hire mercernarys anyways what a confusing world we live in. I do have a gnome and thats certainly lovible. And thats why I came up with my newest creation ladies and gentlemen I proudly present to you... Lou and Bruno the MEAT PUPPETS! ![]() These babies are sure to give me the effect I am looking for which is to beloved and loved by all just like I was... Well I was never really beloved and loved by all but I will be now with the help of Bruno and Lou. See its jesus not only does every one love puppets but they also taste great. I am sure that every one will love and adore the meat puppets just like they love jerry add Jerry with the meat puppets and i am like the most popular baby face ever. And you know what happens with popularity... umm I've never been popular so i dont know in school i was more the kid that liked to eat glue...well in kindergarden...till grade 6...what can i say glue was delicous. And then i had the whole burning things phase... then i had the eating things i burned phase. But now with the aid of these meat puppets I will be more loved then Jay gold even after he was crowned a saint. Yea mr. jay gold the greatest baby face of all time the greatest humanitarian ever. i hear he craps cotton candy. And pisses grape soda. Actually that may hurt and is likely not actually a good thing. But still I am a baby face maybe I shouldnt be assoicating with the evils of the world. But money... i need money for purchases like this... ![]() Which really does help me with the important things... like err... fighting er...giant robots...and cancer.OR even better it will help prevent giant robot cancer. And will defiently help me win against guys like Riggs the current IWC nHb champion which in all honesty i have no idea what it stands for maybe Nude home brewing? maybe national handmade baskets? And the dude has a look similar to my old one before i went with the sexy and got my self this sweet mask. I dont know anything else about this guy but i know that if he tries to bring a hand made basket to my match I am going to bludgeon him to death with it no matter how perfectly woven it is. Mostly every one in this match is an unknown to me the thing isnt a problem to me I could careless whether i know who Max Craven is as not because knowing who he is doesnt make a difference when i crack himself across the face with a singapore cane. It doesnt make a difference if i know what Max Craven is when I put him through a table because the sound max craven makes when he goes through a table is the same sound that every body else makes. These IWC people they can come into this match thinking they are the biggest stars on the planet but what they think doesnt matter what matters is reality. And the reality is that this is my match to win. This is a chaotic enviroment and Chaos is what I thrive in. Chaos is what I live for and if guys like this Too magificent guy think that they are going to intimidate me. They are going to find a) I dont intimidate because i am too fucking crazy to realize that im over my head i use to ride with Xander Valentine and he use to kick my ass just for fun and no one... no one in this match is as dangerous as Xander no one in this match will ever be as much of a brutal mother fucker as Xander that he would throw me through a glass door just because I made a crappy joke about grey pou pon. trust me it was bad... But the point is I've taken worse beatens then any one in this match can provide and I look forward to seeing if any one can come close to beating on me the ways ive been beaten down to nearly seperating my knee from its socket like Jason what ever the hell his name is did in the 10 000 thumbtack death match. I still get pain in my knee when it rains. I still have to where a knee brace because of that match and you know what its not a weakness its a badge of honor. You know what bring your worse and i'll bring mine. I look forward to see what guys like Thorn can bring there best the guy is the number one contender to jack starr. But that doesnt mean i am just going to lie down for him. That doesnt mean I am going to make you look good If your going to beat me thorn your going to have to give it your all your going to have to go all out because I dont go down easy. well lately maybe i have... but thats besides the point this is hardcore this is my type of match this is what i've been waiting for i am not going down easy. Why would i go down to the likes of Bishop Steele the only positive match I have in my favor since I returned my only win. How pathetic is that and when I faced him i was a side note referenced 11 times in three promos. Hah that was a ball. I am now out to prove my self well not really but thats what i should be out to do. But the only thing i care about is hardcore the only thing i care about is this underground division. Anything involving standard matches tag team I just don’t care but this... this brutality this violence is what i want this is what i want to do. I want to bleed i want to make people bleed. But you know with all those people in this match I dont know. The person i know in this match is the only other remaining member of the NBR and that is still in this promotion I am talking about the Devil himself Damian Angel. Its time to become the devils in the night once more the meat puppets don’t think its a good idea. But can you argue with the success we had when we were united. We controlled the SCW perhaps it is time to bring the band back together perhaps it is time for the darkness to take over the light. Perhaps its time to give the devil his due... well at least till we get to the end of the match then... then we can just beat the living crap out of one another. But in the end the Blood rebellion perhaps needs to make a return. Perhaps it is time that I cast aside what I am now and return to what I was then. OR combine them both… or just team with Damian Angel as the craziest bastard here. I like that a little more I don’t feel like playing gothic make believe I just want to play with my meat puppets and make people bleed is that really all that bad? So Damian if your hearing this what do you say we spill every one else’s blood before we crack into each other? So lets bring on the blood bring on the IWC door knobs bring on the women with chairs and the dudes with prostetic lands lets give these fans one of the most brutal matches they’ve ever seen. Lets give the fans a match that lives up to the brutal wars that have been held at the Hammerstein before it. This is going to be war just in this case there are no friends there are no allies..-cough- except me and damian-cough- Let us dance the dance of blood and let it all hang out there… even if it is our intestines that are hanging out there… and if it is groovy… it will give em something to remember. See you at The Blood Bank Dilly ![]() PS I love you and your cat... and you dont look fat in those jeans. pps: oleska about that raise i was thinking you could pay me for the amount of blood i spill at this show like for each quart you buy me a full house book set dvd collection. PPPS: You know i was thinking wouldnt it be cool if some one did this entire match in a chicken suit... not me like cherry or some one or the lord of the husky as i call him. PPPPS: Yea i am really abusing this but this ones serious... can some one car pool with me i forget to get a car rental Rachel? Thorn? Damian? come on pal lets car pool!!! i got a sweet mix tape that will pump us ALLLLLLLLLLLLLL up. |
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| BSteele | Feb 19 2010, 01:07 AM Post #3 |
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True Perfection
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The Lost Prophecy of Bishop Steele: PART VII "Missing" 8 hours of hell and torture in a cramped seat, but I have finally arrived home. I look out the window and see the long runway and other planes ascending and descending. This is not the Florida I know, but it's where I begin. This day has seem like one long blur. Being Buried Alive, the alley, the taxi ride, the airport, and the most grueling flight I've ever been on. The voice has said little to nothing in the passed few hours, which is fine by me. I undo my seatbelt and stand up and stretch my sore body. I am not able to extend fully because of my cramped quarters, but anything is better than that one size does not fit all seat I spent 8 hours in. I walk towards the exit and nod at the attendant. She gives me a short smirk back and continues to thank everyone for flying with her today. What a fake phony bitch. I walk down the tunnel, my freakish nature has seem to wear off on those on the plane. Even Dillusion's little punk of a fan has gotten use to me. Everyone is either numb to me now, or just glad to be off that horrendous flight. When I walk out of the tunnel there is a man with a black hat, black suit, holding a white sign that says "Steele." That must be my ride. The security guard back in the states had a limo come for me so I am not stucking hailing down a taxi. You think waving a taxi is difficult in New York? Try getting one in Florida. I step towards my ride and say "I'm Bishop Steele." He gulps and motions me towards the baggage claim. I simply shake my head and point towards the door. I have no luggage, what you see is what you get. I can tell he was scared of me, and that's fine because I am not interested in conversing with anyone at this particular point in time. Just get me home. We exit the building, and the start of a new day is dawning. I keep forgetting about the time change. I check the clock on the tower of the airpot. 5:21. I need some more sleep. He leads me to his limo parked right out front and opens the door for me. I nod at him and climb in. This was more like it. I do not live a lavish lifestyle even though my bank account can tell you I have the means to do so. I am simple, but because of my size I have to have certain accommodations to meet my needs. This limo didn't have a disco ball in the middle, it wasn't equipped with the hottest whores money can buy, there was no mini fridge or wine chest. There was a seat and shit ton of room, which is all I wanted. I get in and slouch in the seat. My posture has has not been the same ever since I was thrown off the top of a Home Depot at the hands of my brother, so I do nothing to improve it. The driver slams my door as I stretch my legs. I hear his door open followed by a short annoying buzz. The middle window separating me from him lowers. "You sure you want to visit Belmont sir? London is much more beautiful this time of year.Miami is dark and filthy sir." "I'm from Miami." "Very well sir." The window goes up and that was the last thing we ever said to each other. I put my hands behind my head and enjoy the room. When I get home I will nurse my wounds and finally get some sleep. -=You have no home freak. You and Knight knocked that hole down on top of each other.=- I close my eyes. The voice is right. Why am I heading back home when there really is no home? I half contemplated telling the driver just to take me to a nice hotel in London, but decided against it. I was very intrigued. I have not been back to Belmont since that day, and would love to see how the place looks, or if it has even changed. This will be a 2 hour car ride, time to catch up on some sleep. I had short dreamless sleep. I look out the window and recognize the I-95, one of Miami's biggest highways. I see the sandy beachs, blue ocean, and a blue sky. Miami's highways are in much better shape than those in other states. We don't have the annoying truck stops overpopulated with lot lizards looking to make some money by sucking on something. We don't have the disgusting rest stops where you can get robbed, raped, or both. Our countryside is beautiful, and the roads are well kept. World Power my ass, come to Miami, you'll see what I mean. We start to decelerate and I feel the car move onto an exit, than make a quick left followed by a series of rights and lefts. The road becomes unfriendly. It's uneven, filled with stones and holes, and the view becomes less enticing. We are on 826 North, the entrance to Miami. Contrary to prior beliefs there is no storm cloud looming over Miami, there is no evil looming over the residents, there is no boogeyman, or closet monster. That was destoyed years ago. Now Miami reminds me of Hot fun in California. The houses are small and dilapidated, the lawns are muddy and unfertilized, and the citizens are broke. The Rising population in Miami (especially in Miami Beach only 45 minutes from here) helped this small town. But also like California all the drugs are coming from Mexico so business is booming. In California, the average yearly income here in Miami is $75,000. I came from a slightly richer family. My uncle owned half of Miami's big businesses, and used to have a great tourist attraction. The house I grew up in was known as The House of the Rich. It was the childhood home of one ofCalifornia’s famous actors. My father and his brother kept most of the rooms used for the tour just the way they were left centuries prior. We had the bathtub with the cage above it where Dicaprio would have virgins locked in tightly only to stared at by him. He would than lie in the tub beneath and bathe enjoying the view he had of his women. The limo stops and I hear the driver's door open, than the light litters my lap as my door is opened. I stand up, stretch and look at my surroundings. He stopped 50 feet from Pervert's Passage. It's actually just some bridge, but people nicknamed it Pervert's Passage because it led to my house, where my father, the pervert lived. The driver and myself exchange a glance and he quickly gets in and drives off. It has been 3 years, but I am finally home. The wood on Pervert's has been spray painted with every from Slayer, to rot in hell Steele’s, to long live TDM. It's funny I don't remember this grafitti ever being here. It does look rather new, so odds are it was done in the recent years I have been absent. I walk the now covered pass to where my house once stood. I look up the hill, the police tape is still surrounding the destruction. It has been three years, you would think the rubble would have been picked up by now. I shake my head, drop it, and trudge my way through the high grass. There use to be a well worn pass heading to the house. Damian would run home from school to avoid bullies, but once he stepped foot on Pervert's and the pass beyond he would slow his pace and take his time coming home. It was almost as if he was afraid to go home. I would have hated to be Damian growing up. Running your whole life from everyone and everything. As I was walking my mind began to wander.I started to think about my brother. I began to wonder if he ever came back here or if this place was dead to him. No child should go through what he did, but he lived to be a better man than most. -=Who are you kidding? Your brother is nothing, both of your brothers are nothing!!=- I stopped. BOTH of my brothers. :::Damian and Bishop can hear their mother's screams from outside. They were told by their father to stay away. Damian has no clue what's going on, but Bishop is fully aware. Their mother is about to deliver another child, another child most likely addicted to narcotics. The screaming was becoming so intense that Damian had to cover his ears. Bishop ignored the screams and began to concentrate on milking the cow. He flicked Damian in the ear and motioned him to continue milking as well. Their father insisted on delivering all three children himself, because he probably knew that if a doctor came here, all three children would be removed from the homes because of suspect living conditions at best. The screams turned into a quiet cry, a babies cry. Damian let go of a cow tit and looked up at Bishop. They both smiled at each other. Damian loved babies and was so happy there was going to be another to play with in the house. Damian looks back at Bishop and whispers, "You think they will let me hold it?" Bishop shrugs and goes back to his milking and once again motions for Damian to do so as well. The room where the baby was being delivered became quiet again. Bishop would look up there out of the corner of his eye every once in a while. It was too quiet and he was starting to be come concerned. The backdoor opened and stumbling down the broken steps was his father. His hands were covered in blood. His hands were also holding a bloody shoe box. "Bishop! Bishop where are you boy?" Bishop sat up from the stool and walked out of the barn. He stood there looking at his father. Bishop rarely spoke when it came to his father. "There you are boy. I need you to help me do something. I want you to take this box behind the barn, dig a hole and bury it." Bishop looked at his father's hands and the bloody box. "What's in it father?" His father reached out and slapped Bishop right across the left cheek, splitting Bishop's lip in the process. "Don't ask fucking questions boy, just do as I say. If you open this box, I assure you boy you will not walk for a week." He handed Bishop the box, looked his son in the eye, turned around and walked back in the house. Bishop stood there for a few seconds staring at the box, than back up at the window to his parent's room. Damian stands up and peers at Bishop. He whispers, "What's in the box Bishop?" Bishop closes his eyes, tears fall from them, than put his lips to his mouth in a shush motion. He walks slowly around the barn as silent mewls and whimpers echo from the box. Damian hears them, his eyes open widely in fear. He runs after Bishop. "Wait don't Bishop there's a baby!" He reaches for the box but is met with palm to the face than falling to the ground greeting the earth with his face. His nose starts to bleed, but he ingores the pain and runs after Bryan. "You can't Bishop! That's our brother or sister! Please don't!" Bishop puts the box under his left armpit and grabs Jason by the throat. "Listen you little fucking shit. You heard what he said! I am sorry but this is what must be done!" Tears stream from Bishop's eyes again. He let's go of his brother's throat. Tears stream down Damian's face. "Bishop, can we atleast give it a name? It can't go to heaven without a name. Open the box so we can say goodbye and give it a name." Bishop , eyes closed, box in front of him, stands off in his own world. Damian taps his arm. Bishop opens his eyes and looks at his younger brother. Damian says nothing, just mouths 'Please'. Bishop slowly opens the box and lying inside is a bloody deformed baby boy. One eye is raised higher than the other, there is no bottom jaw, one arm entirely shorter than the other, one leg shorter as well. "Dante" Bishop looks at Damian. "Huh?" "Let's name him Dante." Bishop nods.:::: That was the first time in years I thought about that day. -=You see! You are a savage beast! You killed your father, and your newborn baby brother! Where did that beast go?!?=- I shake my head to rid myself of the cobwebs and that voice. It's true. I stabbed my father in the chest with a hay fork. He deserved it. He beat, maimed, and molested. But Dante, poor Dante. I buried him alive all because my father wouldn't be able to live with a different child. I remember going to the library days after Dante's burial to research what was wrong with him. The only thing I came across was a little known disease called Trisomy-18. It's a rare triplicate of the 18th Chromosome. It made no sense to me than, and as I think about it, it makes no sense to me now. During my thoughts I must have "thought walked" because now I stand in front of the barn, the very same barn where I took the life of my blood not once but twice. It still looks the same except the animals have been removed and most likely slaughtered by now. The tools and other farming equipment has been removed as well. Stolen I'm sure. But other than that, it looks exactly as how I remember it. I start to walk inside the barn. I spent many many hours of my youth in here. Whether it was milking cows, bailing hay, gathering eggs, or cleaning up manure to make compst with, my life was in here. It was the only job I ever had, a piss poor paid job. My trip home was becoming surreal to me. I felt 20 years younger, 150 pounds lighter. How did we ever survive this? My wanderings brought me to the back of the barn. I step out of the darkness and back into the light. I look to my left, and the little mound of dirt is still there. The little rock that Damian wrote "Dante" on is still there as well. I look at the mound of dirt that became the final resting place for my baby brother. I notice a splatter of something wet hits my black dirty boots. The splatter cleans up the dust on that one spot, followed by another one. I am crying! -=Pussy!!=- I turn around and punch a hole right into the old rotted wood of the barn. I scream in pain and fall to my knees. I hug the mound and soak it with my tears. I pull myself up and look at the barn and rubble. I know now why I came home, but first I must rest. Using the wet mound as a pillow I fall asleep, another dreamless sleep.... |
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| Kassie Khane | Feb 19 2010, 09:18 PM Post #4 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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Mystery You know me. You had simply forgotten of me and my legacy. You’ve forgotten the two years of entertainment I’ve given you. You’ve forgotten the days where you booed my friends yet cheered and praised me for my actions. You thought of me as delusional…entertaining…bright…young…flashy. I was the envy and hatred in your eyes yet I was the sympathy and remorse in your soul. Your love and hate for me was like night and day. Your girlfriend loved me, your nephew thought I was awesome, you thought I was cool only when I was solo. You thought…as well as I…that “those others” held me down with their foolish ideas of what success was. We were both partially right…it lead me to a championship which was short lived. It also leaded me to suspend my career and to take a look at where my heart was at. I did not want to become the very thing I had rebuked my entire career. Now I return once more to see where I stand. Let my opponents hope that it isn’t on solid ground. Scenes open to a young tanned man wiping the sweat off his face before hanging the towel over his head. His face cannot be seen only his shirtless body and sweat pants hanging off his waist. This mysterious young man leaves what seems like a gym to head into an elevator. He rests his head against one of the elevator’s stainless steel wall attempting to catch his breath after an exhausting workout. Soon he realizes he hasn’t moved an inch and presses one of the buttons on the pad. Once the elevator reaches the fourth floor, it stops and opens for the man to leave. He walks out; dangling the keys he took out of his sweat pants, and walks toward one of the doors. After opening it, he closes the door and flops onto the couch. Taking in a deep breath and stretching out his muscles, he yawns almost seemingly falling asleep. He soon is awakened by a phone call. He looks around stumbling before he grabs his cell phone off the table and answers it. Anonymous: Hey…he…hello? Caller: Didn’t mean to wake you sleeping beauty. Were you busy letting your nail polish dry? Anonymous: …I hate you. What do you want? Caller: I want to know what you are up to. Anonymous: Why the concern? Caller: I need a gym partner to work with me. While I can manage on my own, to give someone the special gift of seeing my greatness presenting itself in front of them…that would be a gift from the heart. Now don’t be an ass, this is a once in a life offer that very few will ever hear of... Anonymous: Ha-ha, I’ll have to pass on that “glorious” offer of yours. Plus I already had a work out of my own so I don’t see myself hitting the gym up for a second time in a row for the day. Caller: What are you working out for, porky? You don’t wrestle anymore, remember? Anonymous: I never said I didn’t wrestle anymore, I said I was taking a break. I’m interested in coming back, is there a problem? Caller: So you called up SCW? Anonymous: Didn’t call a soul, the invitational IS opened to anyone, RIGHT? Caller: All right, Bitchy McSkankqueen – SCW doesn’t need any more diva-men. Keep your panties dry and stop snapping on everyone. Anonymous: Snapping? No. I don’t do that anymore, enjoying life seems to be more fun than jumping into a fray of drama queens attempting to voice my excuse for why I should hold a title over all the other pre-madonnas. Caller: You should be an interesting, if the fans still remember who you are. Anonymous: Ha, well that would be a shame if they didn’t. I was once their US Champion. Caller: Until you got your ass handed for it. Anonymous: …Why am I talking to you right now? Caller: Because I’m the only person you’re willing to talk to until you hit that ring. Then everyone and their mother will be jumping ever so joyously in the backstage and in the seats wanting to talk to you about everything you’ve been doing since you left. Anonymous: For someone who hates me, you tend to give some of the interesting back-handed compliments I’ve heard. Caller: I’m good like that, what can I tell you? Have you even looked at the list of opponents you have to take on? Anonymous: Why would I? The ones listed are just the ones we know about. I talk about Joe over here only to find out he’s not even worth wasting breathe on because the Joe over there is a former SCW Champion and shoe-in to win…and a sneaky little bastard for walking into an Underground title match knowing good and well he should be in a United States title match or higher. You know some people love beating on smaller weaker people just to get a title not even meant for someone of their caliber. Caller: Sort of like you…Mr. Former United States Champion. Anonymous: Har-har-har…I might remind you that it’s been forever since I’ve been in the ring. The rust knocks me down a couple of notches. Caller: Calling the Underground championship a “few notches down” even though you’re the one who is going after it? Anonymous: No, that’s not what I’m saying. The title is great and is a great accomplishment for a person to hold but I’m certain if you gave the winner of this invitational a choice between the two he or she will jump at the SCW Championship without hesitation. Let’s be honest with ourselves here… Caller: True. Anonymous: Anyway, why are you so interested in the invitational anyway? Caller: *talking away from the phone* WHAT IS THAT? YOU SAID THE GYM IS GOING TO CLOSE DOWN SOON?! OKAY WILL BE THERE SOON! *talks back into the phone* Uh sorry about that, got to go! Anonymous: Uh…? The phone call is immediately ended as the young man looks over at the phone with a bit of shock. Anonymous: Hope that little bastard isn’t entering it himself… He slowly rests his head back on the couch as scenes fade. Scenes open up to the man wearing a long sleeved white shirt with a brown leather bomber jacket and khaki jeans. He brushes a little dirt off the top of his beige Timberland boots as he gets out of a Taxi. He hands the driver his payment for the trip as he walks away with black glasses shading his eyes. He walks into an Italian Restaurant slowly looking around the quiet tranquil setting, seemingly looking for someone or something in particular. A young bartender looks up and sees the man. Noticing his skin color and the late time in the evening, he rather not take the gamble of leaving this man the chance of causing problems. He puts down the shot glass he was cleaning and briskly makes his way across the restaurant. He walks toward the man, clearing his throat. The young man looks at the waiter a bit stunned at his sudden appearance. He looks past the man wondering just where he came from. Waiter: Sir, may I help you? You seem to be looking for something. Anonymous: No, rather someone. Have you seen a young black woman named Tiffany? Waiter: Really big, ugly, black? Anonymous: …The young woman said she would be in a peach colored shirt. Waiter: She’s over there. Anonymous: Yes, thank you, she is a friend of mine. The waiter’s eyes light up as if he had seen a ghost. He was not suspecting a man who dressed seemingly good and look to be in shape have any relations or contacts with a woman who looked as if she could be Notorious B.I.G’s twin sister. The man walks past the waiter with smirk and a shake of the head. He takes a seat across from this beastly form of a woman as he sat across from. She looked only a fraction less worse when she smiled yet there was an aura around here. One that was innocent and pure but in her eyes you can see the pain was there. Even through it all she attempted to see the light, the man could feel nothing but guilt. He didn’t cause her suffering but every time he complained about the weather or turned off the television in frustration that his favorite football team was losing horribly…he thought that here was a woman who had more problems than the four seasons of the year or overpaid athletes not living up to the hype…and yet she remained calm and ever focused on progressing in life. Tiffany: What? Wearing shades because you’re embarrassed to be seen around me? I don’t blame you, I would be too. Anonymous: No. Not at all, I’m trying to keep a low profile as I have plans to stay out of the limelight until…how you say… a certain event at a prestigious sports entertainment company I used to work for…has taken place. When people see me out and about, they usually know it’s for certain reasons. Since that is the case, I would like to keep from others until I have to reveal myself at said event. Tiffany: All right mystery man, he-he. She had such an infectious laugh; she was a normal down to earth person. You would never this woman who seems to be so shy, honest, and sweet would come from the depths of a local ghetto where violence and aggression were means to justify whatever ends you looked for. Young women like her are always trapped in these spirals and always easily ripped apart until they are turned into one of the venomous youth that pollute the streets…or until they die. Neither ending is pretty nor, by the basic beliefs of a country such as this, is she. A country such as America that believes the cookie cutter format of a woman should be fair skinned, thin, and pretty. We praise these women, cherish them, and proclaim them perfect. While women like Tiffany are thrown aside because they do not fit the average American’s “criteria” of what a woman should be. A woman based on the merits of look rather than personality then we wonder why this world will go to hell in a Martha Steward-designed hand basket. Anonymous: As you know, our mutual friend wanted us to meet. He said you needed a bit of help and well, I’m open to helping those who want it. Tiffany: You mean “need” it, right? Anonymous: Well no, there are drug addled kids out there that “need” help but no one can help them because they don’t “want” it. I can only help those who want help. Many people need help, few want it. Tiffany: I see, you’re a wrestler AND a philosopher. Anonymous: Hmm, no Gandhi. I’m just a regular guy who got all the good things in life and wishes to help someone who might have not had that in the past but is willing to strive for it in the future. Tiffany: Okay. Anonymous: Well to bring you to a better future, why don’t you give me some insight of your past? Jason told me a little but I rather hear first-hand experience. Tiffany: Jason can only tell you so much, you truly have no clue what I’ve been through... Anonymous: I don’t. That’s why I’m here because I want to know. I want to help. You can never truly help a stranger. Don’t be one. Don’t be one of these kids who keep it to themselves unnecessarily forcing themselves to live in pain and regret for the rest of their life. She shook her head with a bit of smirk; the pain in her eyes became increasingly clear as she held back tears. The young man reached out his hands and held hers. A reflection of the sorrow in her face mirrors off of the man’s black sunglasses as a tear strolls down her face. She removes one of her hands from his grasp to wipe the tear away. She puts her hand back in his grasp as she begins to tell him her story. Scenes fade away to black. |
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| Kassie Khane | Feb 20 2010, 12:02 AM Post #5 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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The Mystery Continues... I talked of my legacy, talked of what I’ve accomplished. We all do but what I realize is talk can only do so much. As my opponents seek from little bits and pieces of my prior information attempting to weed me out amongst the haystack of former wrestlers whose style it would be to make an unannounced return, I sit back and laugh. I’m sure the assumptions have poured in. Who could it be? As people furiously flip through the record books looking at former US Champions, I crack a smile at failed attempts to unravel my identity. There is over thirty former US Champions. Only a few of which I know are currently active. I didn’t suggest to abandon research about me out of fear of my identity being found, rather by the time you find out it will be all too late to do anything about it. I’m not someone you can ever properly prepare for, so tell me…what are your plans for preparing for a person of my capability that you don’t even know? None. This isn’t a match for the schemers in SCW and IWC land. This one requires a few things: Ability…Agility…and the pretty little shiny advantageous coin I like to call Skill. I’m sure we all know of this…as I’m sure we all know the advantages and disadvantages of most of the announced roster that will join this massive hardcore fray of insane people. People who are not afraid of having their ribs shattered into irreplaceable pieces by a hard enough swung steel bat or the possibility of losing sight in the eyes by being smashed in the face by a singed 4x4 piece of wood on fire. What? Did you think it would be a walk in a park? It’s already bad enough we have out breaks of whining and piss-moaning butt hurt behavior from main event guys feeling the squeeze from a building roster. Do you think us…the bottom of the pile…will walk away and not feel the effects of this squeeze from what seems like an overeager IWC roster looking forward to taking away gold they can from us. But back to what I mentioned, we know of the people who will be walking into this Underground Invitational. Just how do you plan for those whose existence is missing much more their plan to jump into this Sparta-like gladiator atmosphere? As much as it amuses me to be mysterious, even I am subjected to a blind spot of not knowing the other “as equally mysterious” competitors that will grace the ring. I sit back and muse over it but I will have to have faith in myself as a skilled competitor and intelligent man. I rather not worry. I rather let you look at your own life: concerned, racking you’re head on how you will win a match with over possibly fifteen entrants, and become frustrated by your lack of knowledge on your opponents. Me? I prefer to concentrate on matters that are in my hand – which I have the ability to control. Such as the ability to take an abused young woman who has been given hell all her life…take her life story and turn it into one of preservation. She sat there on her stoop smiling and sighing as the pretty light skin neighborhood boy walked by with his male friends. They laughed and talked their way out of sight as the sun began to set on another residential ghetto neighborhood. She shuffled her way inside the house wishing she could talk to the young man, never quite building the courage. She walked upstairs and to her bedroom. She looked at herself as she tried to suck in her stomach but there is no sucking in two hundred pounds of extra weight from bad food choices made by you and your mother for over a decade. There is no smiling away your large nose and big lips that others, who are ignorant of your race or ancestors, consider unattractive and ugly. There is just no amount of light in the room to lighten the color of your dark skin. She had always admired Alicia Keys and one day wanted to be successful as her. She could sing just as Alicia Keys, all she needed was a break into the limelight. “TIFFANY! STOP DAYDREAMING ABOUT SOME BOY YOU WILL NEVER GET AND COME DOWNSTAIRS, NOW!” She is immediately startled out of her thoughts as she realizes the voice that come from the unusually cruel creature she called “Mom”. There were two sources of her pain – her fellow students and her mother. Both made her feel incredibly worthless and less of a human being. Normal strangers that saw her said nothing to her but looked away with disgust and in some drastic cases, horror. So fickle was the world – attached to their televisions so much they forgot what a natural looking person is. We are not all the tall handsome tanned men or beautiful fair-skinned women these model magazines portray society as. It’s not a representation but it’s been so engrained into our skulls we attempt to make ourselves look like Gods and Goddesses with little to no success. Appreciation for self is at an all-time low and appreciation for others? Pfft…let’s not even start. Tiffany’s own mother doesn’t appreciate her daughter or her existence. Tiffany: I’m coming mom! She hustled herself downstairs to find the door open to her beautiful fair-skinned aunt and cousins who were not more than two years old. They recognized Tiffany immediately jumping into her arms. They were young with no knowledge or understanding that most people would run FROM not TO someone who looks like Tiffany. They innocently asked their silly nosy questions and ran into her room. She hugged her Aunt then went upstairs herself to leave her and her mother. She played with her cousins and admired their skin tone and curly hair. As they bounced up and down on her twin-sized bed watching BET videos, Tiffany overheard a bit of yelling. She quietly worked her way down the stairs which admittedly she took great lengths to do given her weight – stealth was not the easiest thing. The creaky steps didn’t help either. She sat at the bottom of the stairs to hear the argument. Tiffany’s Mother: You can sit there and talk about this and that. You don’t know what it is to live my life! Aunt: I’m not saying I can compare my life to yours but the way you act and even treat your own daughter is atrocious. Tiffany’s Mother: You want her? Listen, Tiffany ain’t worth shit. She’s black. She’s ugly. She looks like a two ton giant. The only thing she’s going to be good for is to lie on her back and get knocked up. Aunt: Hmm…just like mom said to you. Tiffany’s Mother: And what happened? I got knocked up and now I’m stuck up in this Section 8 housing system on welfare trying to take care of this whale of a child while trying to live life day to day. Aunt: You choose to live that way, how many opportunities did my husband give you? Every job he ever got you – you were ghetto, loud, rude, and disrespectful to your co-workers as well as boss. People don’t take lightly to those who come consistently late either. Tiffany’s Mother: I’M SORRY SHARON I COULDN’T HAVE YOUR LOVELY LITTLE LIFE! Isn’t that right? A rich white man with big ties in some big company somewhere. All I have is this welfare, my fat ass daughter, and myself. We are trying to survive day to day while you are cruising around the five seas enjoying life. Aunt: Seven. Tiffany’s Mother: What? Aunt: Seven seas, not five. Tiffany’s Mother: …this is exact bullshit I’m talking about. You always come around here putting me down, bringing your pretty little mixed kids around my daughter. It’s bad enough the fat whore has some kind of dream of being a singer now you want to bring your kids around her make her feel as though she is loved and wanted. Ain’t nobody gon’ want my daughter! Watch. When them kids of yours grow up and you come around, they gonna avoid my daughter like the plague! Like everyone has done to us. Aunt: No, they won’t. My children are raised with tolerance, respect, and importantly – love. Tiffany’s Mother: Oh? You think you gonna control how your kids think? Watch all them other kids tell them how nice they look and put it in their head that people that look like Tiffany and I are people they should avoid. I know how it works. I’ve lived it all my life. Then again, your rich ass lives in a place where my kind isn’t welcome. Our skin color is just a bit too dark for your neighborhood I noticed. Aunt: Oh please, you’re starting that again? The conversation faded off as well as the visual memory while Tiffany wiped the tears from her eyes as she uncontrollably cried. The man had sat in the restaurant for over an hour hearing the agonizing traumatic parts of her life. These events weren’t taken a day after slavery, they happened not more than two years ago. Yes, in 2008 this very situation happened as she remarkably remembered almost every word. He wiped her face with a napkin and rubbed her cheek looking into her dark brown eyes as she could barely see through her own with the blur that came from a teary eye. The waiter overheard the conversation looked down at his shoes, depressed to hear such a tragic tale. A tale that is not so frequent in the Italian community as it is in the African American community. He most certainly wished he could take back those words he used to describe her: the very words she heard on a daily basis from her mother and other insensitive people. Tiffany got herself together and began to speak on the events. Tiffany: I had a lot of days like that…she would just put me down for no reason. Sometimes she would call me a whole lot of mean words and hit me. Sometimes she threw freezing cold water in my face to wake me up only to tell me that I’m a piece of shit and that she wish I would just die. It hurt me a lot but I couldn’t do anything. No one would hire me; no one would try to help me. I was treated like a dog…and not one of those cute small dogs people carry in a handbag. I passed high school but the fact is I’m not really a good reader or writer. Anonymous: You passed high school as an illiterate? Tiffany: I guess so. Anonymous: I guess they were serious about that No Child Left Behind thing… Tiffany: What’s that? Anonymous: A law that George Bush passed to make sure no child is made to repeat a grade. There was a great flaw in that one system…it continued to push up students into higher grades even though they could not pass the classes in the current grades they were which allowed cases such as yours. Tiffany: What? Anonymous: In short, it lets people who can’t read or write pass through school. Tiffany: So what am I suppose to do? Anonymous: You, my lady, shall be enrolled – free of charge – into Huntington’s Learning Center. Tiffany: How am I going to get in free? Anonymous: Don’t worry about that, I’ll worry about that. Knowledge is power and even though you are so bright...book-smarts are somewhat essential to life. Tiffany: Okay, I go to this place. They teach me stuff. Don’t mean much…people still not going to hire me. Look at me; nobody wants someone who looks like me to represent them. Anonymous: That. We will worry about later. For now, education is the most important thing. You can be made to look stunning but if you have nothing in that noggin of yours how far have you TRULY progressed? No where if you ask me. Tiffany: I guess you’re right. Anonymous: My career has been based on making the right choices. I know a hopeless cause when I see one…and I know when I see someone with potential who only needs a push start to see their true talent. I know you rarely, if ever, hear this – but you are a young woman with much untapped potential. Yet, unlike those in your past who could only tell you that and watch you fade away like a glimmering star in the sky…I will work with you to make you see yourself for the amazing strong black woman you are. Whether or not you believe there is such a woman in you will remain to be seen but having a bit of faith in yourself never hurt. Tiffany: Even when everyone else doesn’t? Anonymous: Even when everyone else doesn’t. She smiled. She had been conned by men before. Men who had a particular taste in women with her issues: overweight and low self-esteem. Yet this one didn’t pretend to love her or whisk her away to Wonderland. He had a stern realistic grounded approach to himself. She prayed in the back of her head that he was genuine. She had seen him on television and couldn’t imagine she would see him in front of her very eyes. As the waiter cleaned up the remaining unseated tables, he couldn’t help but smile at the idea that someone in this day and age would lend a hand. There was a certain lost faith in humanity that had seemingly been revived within a few minutes of a solitary conversation in an Italian restaurant. His warm smile was reassuring as they changed topic and began to discuss their favorite artists as well as current events. It almost seemed as though they were a young couple who went out to dinner rather than one person attempting to alter the life of another in a positive manner. Scenes fade away. |
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| Lucas Knight | Feb 21 2010, 05:22 AM Post #6 |
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.Infamous. .British. Legendary.
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Here's the first of two for the Invitational. Hope you all enjoy. | SCW - IWC Underground Invitational | |
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| Debonair | Feb 21 2010, 01:04 PM Post #7 |
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Newbie
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[align=center]:::Time slips away from you when you forget what you're doing... It gets the better of you, even if you have some kind of idea where you are. But if truth be told, time is nothing more than a figment of your imagination, even when it's slipping backwards. I mean let's take this very fraction of time we stand in as you listen to my voice. At this particular moment, Fred Debonair is seated in the offices of Debonair Enterprises, reading a copy of Stephen King's "Under The Dome", technically he should be working and checking out the quarterlys that the company are putting out in early two thousand and ten, but no he's reading. Now if this fact is taken into consideration, does it really make a difference whatsoever or have any kind of infraction over what on earth is about to happen next? Sorry, you're not understanding my train of thought? Okay let me ask the question another way... If perhaps say, Mr. Debonair was in fact checking out some of the figures Debonair Enterprises were churning out instead of reading about how this particular books main character was just figuring out what the probem was after a hundred or so pages... Would the explosion two blocks south on seventh and Mahoney have actually occured? Would Police be evacuating the next six blocks in every direction, due to a possible "major Gas incident"? And would Fred Debonair have bumped into young Max Logan...? Let's rewind a couple of months to June two thousand and nine shall we? Fred Debonair was a Professional Wrestler for FcW or Fearless Championship Wrestling, he'd started his career when he was eighteen in the RWF and had now been in FcW for close to three years and was in line for his third World title shot after previously losing the belt six month prior... This was until Paddy Coonan who ran the joint got caught by some mob guys (rumor was, he had ties all over New York City) and suddenly the guy disappeared and FcW went bust along with all its endorsements... But this was not the first time Fred Debonair had this happen to him, in fact one year prior to this he was in line for a World title shot and pretty much the exact same thing happened but he let it slide, this time it would be no more. Debonair vowed he would not let himself get caught up anymore, with crooked promotors and people who were able to suck you in. He'd made a name for himself globally both with his business and his Pro Wrestling career and he was not going to stand by and let his name get dredged through the shitstorm which was apparently arising from the west with a touch of bitter hail. He took his own route and he opened the doors of The N.Y.W.A (New York Wrestling Alliance to the rest of us) and although the strong feelings, the bad itch, of w Wrestling continued to enter his head... He kept it at bay and swore he wouldn't be talked int to walking into a Wrestling ring as a Pro Wrestler, ever again. ~*~*~*~ ...And so, I mentioned young Max Logan to you all and for the sake of not confusing everybody, we'll skip back to this bright, sunny Saturday afternoon when Fred Debonair who should be working but isn't, finds himself out on the street of New York City and ushered several blocks away from the home of his business and finds himself wandering into a Starbucks coffee shop. He walks to the counter, orders a Dark Cherry Mocha; Venti please... He pays and takes a seat near the window, pulling out his Blackberry in order to actually get some work done (he won't admit it's also because he left King and the Dome sitting on his desk accidentally when the cop asked him to hurry up out of the building) but whilst he's doing this he finds himself being continuously watched by a young couple two tables back, a young girl who looks to be either quite fat at the belly and skinnier than a deerhound on the face; or pregnant. The boy she's with looks like some of the guys Fred Debonair has worked with most of his life and books every other week for his promotion, young, stocky build and confident looking, watching Debonair over his polystyrene cup... Fred nods and smiles politely and the guy looks quite excited, he turns to the girl and says something, she looks over at Fred then nudges the guy who shakes his head, she does it again and this time the kid gets up off of his chair. He slowly approaches Fred's table and although Fred knows he's there, he continues to look through non-existent emails on his Blackberry, this is of course until the inevitable happens, the stocky, confident looking guy clears his throat pointedly at Debonair, Fred speaks but he doesn't look up:::[/align] Debonair - Can I help you? Kid - You're Debonair right? Fred Debonair, owner and General Manager of NYWA? Debonair - Yep Kid - Hey erm, I'm sorry to bother you whilst you're working or doing whatever it is you're doing at the moment but my name's Max Logan... Debonair - Okay... And that's supposed to mean something to me, because? Kid - Well, I guess it's not. Except if you remember a guy in your past named Jake 'The Cage' Logan, or even Danielle Sylvia Logan? [align=center]:::Debonair looks up, finally. Something has caught his attention and he eyes the kid up and down before shaking his head, blinking slightly...[/align] Debonair - Wait a second... Max? Maxwell Theodore Logan? Little "Maxy L" who used to come sit around in the RWF gym?? Max - That's me, Fred... Wow, it's been a long time, huh!? Debonair - I'll say, been about what kid? Seven, perhaps even eight years since I last saw you!? Four since I saw your pops but that's another story I mean damn, how the hell are you? How're your parents? Max - They're good, they're good and yeah I'm doing okay too. That girl over there? That's my girl, Jeanette and she's carrying Louise, our daughter... [align=center]:::Max looks over at the girl and Fred nods and waves her over in their direction... She smiles and slowly gets herself to her feet before coming over and joining the two men... Now, as I asked you at the top of this story; had Fred not been reading a Stephen King novel do you believe any of this would still have occured? Perhaps but then again, perhaps not... Now not to bore you with long, drawn out small-talk let us move forward perhaps four hours now and we see it's beginning to get late; Jeanette has already gone home as the Logan's only live around the corner from the Starbucks and Fred and Max are still sitting there talking, laughing... For now:::[/align] Max - Yeah haha! And remember the time when you and dad, you told Riley Andrews and Shawn King that Ryan Kilmore and Sexton Hardcastle really HAD keyed their cars!? Oh man they were fuming! Debonair - Yeah but I think they were even more pissed at me and your dad for saying it when it wasn't even remotely true! Max - Oh man yeah... Oh shoot, I almost forgot man. How strange is this, eh? I was thinking about you today and telling Jeanette all about you, because I found this flyer! [align=center]:::Max quickly goes through the satchel he's been carrying with him all day and pulls out something which he hands to Fred... Fred looks through it and reads it carefully before looking up, at Max. He raises his eyebrow:::[/align] Debonair - Okay, so? Some Wrestling Promotion is having some kind of "Two for one", what is it a garage sale of Wrestling memorablilia? Max - Hahaha, funny... No, Fred. This is SCW and IWC's interfed event... But check this bit here... [align=center]:::Max traces his finger down a little way until Fred reads part of the flyer which reads "SCW/IWC Underground Invitational", he looks back at Max completely not understanding which of course, Fred wouldn't because this point in time was never fixed in his head prior to the last thought he had the night before, whilst trying to sleep about Wrestling again... But, it's always been a fixed point, in time. Max shakes his head and laughs:::[/align] Max - Fred, the Underground Invitational Winner receives the SCW Underground championship. Debonair - Okay? Max - It's their version of the RWF Hard-To-The-Core title and the FcW Extreme Championship... It's your ticket, bro! Debonair - Ticket? Max, I've been running around, booking, taking offers, signing contracts and God knows what else, for NYWA for the past eight months now I've not wrestled since May of last year WHY would I lace up my boots again? Max – Because it’s what you’ve been wanting to do since you were seventeen years old. What was your debut match in the RWF, can you remember? Debonair – Of course I can remember it was for the RWF Hard-To-The-Core title, against Puppet Master... Why do you ask? Max – Just follow my thought train right now. What was your debut match in the FcW? Debonair – It was an invitational for the FcW Extreme title... And this match is an SCW Underground title invitational, the same kind of belt that I’ve been involved with, since I first thought about Professional Wrestling. Max – Exactly! Fred this is exactly the kind of thing you thrive on. Do you think it was just some kind of accident that the day we meet and I show you a flyer there’s some kind of hardcore style belt invitational going on? It’s how you make your entrances into Wrestling organisations! This is fate, man... Fate! [align=center]:::Fred looks around and takes a sip of his third cup of Dark Cherry Mocha and sighs. He looks out of the window where he can see the Police cordons have been removed and people are going back to their thing. He shakes his head as he puts the cup down, on the table:::[/align] Debonair – And how would I go about doing all this then, Max? I mean I know nothing about this joint, nothing about its roster and nothing to go on... Max – Maybe not, Fred... But I do! I’ve been following SCW for the longest time now and I know of most of these guys and girls, the champs, the top challengers, the ones to avoid. With me at your side you should be able to put on a great return if not come back into the world of Wrestling as the new SCW Underground Champion! [align=center]:::Fred rubs his chin, sighing under his breath as we slowly back away from this scene now and take you a few hours ahead in time... ~*~*~*~ :::We are now inside the New York apartment of Fred Debonair, overlooking the Hudson. The daughter of our main protagonist, little Mercedes-Jane is asleep in bed and Fred and his girlfriend Lizzy Quinn are sitting on the couch watching some “Prime-Time” television. Okay let me rephrase that Lizzy is watching the television, whilst Fred on the other hand is going over something on his laptop... Lizzy quickly sneaks a peek and sees that Fred is indeed checking out the latest news on Wrestling promotion, SCW. She leans in and wraps an arm around his own before looking up into his face and smiling:::[/align] Lizzy – So, what’s on your mind babes? Debonair – Remember me talking about Jake and Michelle Logan? A couple of people I used to wrestle with back in RWF? They had a son called Max? Lizzy – Yeah, the guy who you basically learned your entire trade from after leaving Wrestling school? Debonair – That’s the one, well I bumped into Max today in Starbucks after that whole Gas incident. He’s like twenty now, got a woman who’s pregnant too... Well, he showed me this. [align=center]:::Fred pulls the flyer he’d kept on him, out of his jeans pocket and hands it, to Lizzy. The Underground Invitational’s circled in marker pen and she looks it over before chuckling to herself. She sits up straight and smiles at him:::[/align] Lizzy – You’re finally thinking of getting back into the ring?! Debonair – Wait... You’re okay with that, I mean if I was? Lizzy – Uh, yeah! Why wouldn’t I be? Fred that’s what you did when we first met, it’s who you are... I’ve seen you with NYWA, sure you love running that place but I can always see on your face when you yearn to get back into that ring! Debonair – I just assumed that with Mercy getting older now, us settling down you wouldn’t want me getting back in and wrestling?? Lizzy – Don’t be stupid! I know how talented you are, how sensible you are... You know what you’re doing in that ring! And hasn’t it always been the case that every time something like this crops up there’s an open hardcore type match? Debonair – Hah! That’s exactly what Max pointed out to me earlier tonight... You’re totally sure you’re okay with me signing another contract with a wrestling organisation?? Lizzy – Fred, you should know me by now... If I wasn’t, I would have definitely said something by now wouldn’t I? Debonair – Man, you’re the best babes! I need to make a quick phone call! [align=center]:::Fred kisses her on the lips and smiles, before jumping off the couch and grabbing his cell phone. He dials a number quicker than we can catch his fingers moving and waits for it to be picked up:::[/align] Debonair – Max? It’s Fred... Listen bud, how do you feel about becoming my assistant and promoter in this SCW place?? Yeah, that’s right. I’m in! [align=center]:::So now we’ve established that Fred Debonair has indeed decided to once more lace up his boots and step into a Wrestling ring, now we’ve concluded he is the latest member on the roster of SCW, let us move into the time where he makes the conscious choice to “cut a promo” as it were... But first, he needs to get his head straight, first he needs to work out the who’s who of SCW’s roster and so to do that he has to gather all the information he can with the aid of his new found assistant, Max Logan::: ~*~*~*~ :::Open the scene inside a gymnasium somewhere in downtown New York City, it’s dark it’s dank and it’s empty, except for one Wrestling ring directly in the centre of the structure. Seated on a steel chair just outside of the ring sits young Max Logan and he’s filing through a bunch of papers and folders as Fred Debonair is pacing around the ring:::[/align] Max – So first and foremost we’ve got the current SCW Underground champion... Her name, is Rachel Foxx. Debonair – So what’s her status then? Max – Huh? Debonair – What information, have you got on her? Max – Oh! Right, okay well let’s see... She’s known as “The Suicide Queen” Debonair – Sounds a lot like someone else I used to know, back in FcW; looks like her too... A girl named Brooke McQueen. If she fights like her, there’s no surprise in my mind why she is the SCW Underground Champion right now; when did she win it? Max – Back in January she defeated David Helms on Breakdown... Let’s see what else we’ve got on her. Well she’s part of Bad Company along with Justin Davis. She’s got a lot under her bra-strap too. Debonair – Okay, let me see... I’ll take a look at this, for myself. [align=center]:::Fred leans through the ropes, as Max Logan gets up and walks to the ring and hands him, Rachel Foxx’s information. Fred paces the ring reading it, smirking from time to time before turning back and dropping the file at the apron of the ring. Max snatches it back as Debonair hops onto a turnbuckle, closing his eyes:::[/align] [Debonair[/u] – So, who’s up next?? Max – Alright, up next we’ve got... Too Magnificent. Debonair – Who? Max – To be honest, I’m not entirely sure... I’m trying to gather some information about him, her, it, them; whomever they may be. Debonair – Okay not a problem... Next on the list? I wanna know about this Bishop Steele character. Max – Okay Steele, Steele... Oh right yea. He’s one of those MMA Powerhouse types, bg man his manager’s a lot to look at though so she could be a distraction... Debonair – You know something, Max? I’m ready to do this... I don’t need to know about these ladies and gents. I just need to know about me and what I’m doing... Go grab my gear, I’ll be out by the dock. [align=center]:::Debonair slides out of the ring, pats Max on the shoulder and walks out of the gym, leaving Logan looking on slightly confused; but he shrugs his shoulders and walks off in the same direction as we slowly fade into darkness... ~*~*~*~ ...We reopen exactly where Debonair said we would be, at the docks. Fred is sitting on the edge of a small pier, he’s looking out at the Hudson river as small boats, fishing and otherwise, make their journey’s to and from the city of New York... He looks over to his right and picks up a packet of cigarettes and lighter, removing one from the packet and lighting it, in his mouth. He takes a drag and blows out smoke rings before beginning to speak seemingly to himself, but us in the know, are aware he is directing his comments at both us and those involved, in the invitational:::[/align] Debonair – SCW... A promotion that people have been talking about, left right and centre before now but not one I’ve really known all too much about, I must admit. Until my good friend Max Logan turned up and pointed me in this direction I wasn’t really too aware that it even existed, it was like one of those myths, those campfire stories but oh no, you really exist don’t you? You truly are out there and now Fred Debonair is set to make his mark on the world of SCW as I violate and gatecrash, the SCW Underground Invitational. In less than a week’s time, several members of both SCW and the IWC will fight it out in what has been considered one of the most brutal events that Wrestling fans have witnessed since the dawn of time, all in the hopes of winning the SCW Underground championship held, by Rachel Foxx... Is it Fred Debonair’s intention to come in and take this belt? Of course it is, by any means necessary. But winning the belt is not my only reason for entering the invitational, at all. I intend on making a name for myself whether it be as the new Underground Champion or not, whether it be making my name to Bishop Steele, to Lucas Knight, to Rachel Foxx herself... Fred Debonair has been given a shot and he’s going to take that shot. I won’t consider myself a failure if I don’t get the belt because as I say it’s not my main goal; albeit a goal nonetheless... Debonair – I’ve been listening to the guys and girls both of SCW and of IWC going on and on about how they’re gonna do this to that person and that to the other person... And yet they’re only worrying about those who they know are in this match. A few of these guys seem to forget that this is an invitational, meaning that anyone could just set foot in the running for this match at any given moment and that’s just what I’ve decided on doing. You’re all so concerned with people whose lives you know, whose pasts and secrets you can rely on to use as some form of knock on them when you discuss your opponents but what about those of us you’ve got no clue about? Does it come to the point of making stuff up? Lying to gain your ends? Fred Debonair does not intend on speaking of those he knows nothing of, only of himself... His own thoughts and opinions on what may or may not happen in this match... Until I know enough of my opponents I’m going to do the honourable thing, and keep quiet about them but I would like each and every one of them to comprehend something and that is this... Fred Debonair does not walk quietly, he doesn’t leave peacefully. I’m going to cause as much chaos and havoc as is going to be possible and I will cause some hurt. And by the end of “Two for one” you will all have the rights and privileges to speak about Fred Debonair as you will all know him, not only by history and mythology... But by face and by name. March twenty-eighth, Fred Debonair makes his debut in SCW, the Underground Invitational will be the arrival. SCW and IWC’s “Two for one” will be the beginning of something new, I am coming... I am coming to make waves and have a good ol’ time doing it. If it means holding yet another belt on my debut in a promotion, so be it... If not? No skin off my nose I will still have made the entrance I planned on making so I’ll see you guys and girls next week but until then, sleep well... [align=center]:::Fade – To – Black!!:::[/align] |
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| Kassie Khane | Feb 21 2010, 04:15 PM Post #8 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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**Note--posting this for Riggs untill he can get an account over here in SCW**![]() Stars in your Eyes. Good luck people I'll post this on SCW when I get the chance
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| Kassie Khane | Feb 21 2010, 05:12 PM Post #9 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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** NOTE- Post this for Too Mag from IWC** ~~Note from the Author- The shortness of this rp is for Storyline purposes~~ ”What in the hell is this crap? First I have to go on to some backyard wrestling show for promotional purposes for a match that I’m guaranteed to win, I have to sit there and make believe that the people I’m trying to sell the idea to are actually somewhat decent at their craft and then I had to go home and fumigate my fucking suit because I felt downright filthy coming out of their damn arena. God almighty they don’t pay me enough to do this shit. So let’s see what we have here shall we? They call this the Underground Invitational for some piece of worthless SCW tin. Whoopdee doo. Let me just get on my horse and speed right down to the studio to set up a fucking promo for it. God’s just going to strike me down if I don’t. You know what? To be quite honest, I’m not excited about this, I’m not enthralled. I have to sit here and get in the ring with a few IWC members that are great at what they do, and then I need to pollute my eyes with SCW garbage. I can already feel them burning. Now, normally I would sit here, and I would take my time and I would systematically dissect each and every person in this match, but then that would require me to care. That would require me to do research on people that I couldn’t care less about. Research on the minor leagues. But I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to waste my precious time. What I am is the most screwed up person in this match, I’m IWC’s own, I’m the one that people in IWC fear. I’m a motherfucker and I’m damn proud of it. I have no disregard for my body, and I sit on top of the world week in and week out. I don’t need some underground championship, I don’t need an undercard belt to make my life complete. Each and every person in IWC is a champion, and that’s all that matters. SCW? Give me a break. I’m done. I have nothing else to say and I’ve already wasted enough breath talking about them. Riggs, I’m coming for you. You’re my main target, you’re the one that matters to me in this match. And it has nothing to do with Simon. I just want to remind you over and over and over again that your sister is dead and gone. Dead and gone, Dead and gone, never coming back. Stiff, Deceased.. End of the line. Just like your career. And now, you all can get out of my damn face. If you want something more, then earn my respect, but until then, SWC can kiss my ass.” The Magnificent One pushes the camera crew and leaves the studio quickly, not giving a damn about this match or SWC. |
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| Thomas Valentine | Feb 21 2010, 08:31 PM Post #10 |
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Hero No More
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OOC: The beginning part is just setting the scene in as brief a way as possible to keep the confusion with switching between first/third person at minimum...other than that, enjoy and good luck to all Deserving |
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| Stacy Kissinger | Feb 21 2010, 10:27 PM Post #11 |
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Craig's Texas Rose
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OOC: Gimme a break! Gimme a break! Break me off a piece of that Shilo bar! ![]() [align=center]THE MUDDLED UNDAHGROUND[/align] [align=center] [/align]Date: Friday, February 19, 2010 Time: 6:20 P.M. To say that it was a long plane ride back to the East Coast for Stacy Kissinger would be an understatement, especially since she went alone with no other members of Infection joining her. Of course she took the first flight out possible, moreso to be away from them. Especially away from the man who keeps making promise after promise after promise, saying that he has a plan. This is what Stacy is busy harping on now that she has made it to a place where she was not many weeks ago, the Big Apple…right in the heart of Manhattan. She is currently mumbling to herself about Mr. Drachewych’s so-called “plans” but is also glancing down at her watch, almost as if someone was supposed to meet her by this point already. We notice that she is sitting at a table for two inside a pretty decent looking restaurant. Finally after a few more minutes of waiting he walks in her direction. She sees him and puts on a fake smile, however as soon as he sits down it disappears and she prods him, asking him where he’s been. Stacy: Where the hell have ya been?! Ya know how much I don’t like it when people don’t keep to their promises! It’s why I called ya here. ‘Cause I thought that I could at least trust ya. Ya do like me, don’t ya dearest? ???: Yes I do Stace. I’ll tell the truth. I’m late because I got a phone call from Drachewych. Let’s just say that he wasn’t happy when he was dragged off by security on Wednesday night. Stacy: Ya know what? That’s not my problem. ‘Til he can prove to me, Greg, Drew and Matt that he actually really HAS a plan to hatch, I’m not gonna help him. ???: Alright Stace. Don’t go off on one of your tantrums again… Stacy: Yer soundin’ just like him Jay! It’s true…the man sitting across from her is a man that knows Mr. Drachewych quite well, after enduring a handful of years plus a few months in the SCW. Jay Gold runs his hand through his blonde hair and just looks at Stacy’s eyes. Her pupils have seem to have dilated and he can tell that she might go off the deep end once again, if he can’t get her under control. Jay: Okay Stace, I’m going to say this as your cousin. You really need to give him more of a chance to get his cards straight. He wants to deal them at the right time and not rush into things. And as your boyfriend, I say that you should forget about him for tonight and focus on me. I’m here for you. Stacy: But ya were late… He can’t argue that one as a waitress comes over and places two filled glasses of water on the table before walking away, not even asking them if they’re ready to order. Stacy folds her arms and leaves them close to her as Jay just stares at her, not looking anywhere else, showing his loyalty. Stacy: So…why ya lookin’ at me like that? Jay: You know exactly why Stace. Stacy: With the way people have been treatin’ me as of late, perhaps ya should clue me in. I wouldn’t wanna misinterpret that look of yers. Jay nods and goes along with it. Jay: It’s a look of caring and concern for you all rolled into one. Stacy: Heh. If ya care ‘bout me, yer pretty much the only one. Jay: Believe me or not Stace, but it’s true. Every single word. She looks at him and begins to read him, squinting her deep brown eyes a decent bit until the waitress returns to their table. Waitress: Okaaay, can I get you two anything? Another drink? An appetizer? Before Jay can answer her, Stacy cuts in while standing up, not taking her eyes off of the SCW Hall of Famer across from her. Stacy: Nope. I’ve got all that I need. The waitress turns away and rolls her eyes as Stacy takes a step toward the exit, obviously no longer hungry for food or drink. Jay follows her, taking the subtle hint. It’s not long before the two are heading into the hotel that’s closest to the Hammerstein Ballroom. At this point they seem to be racing one another and that continues all the way up the flight of stairs and to the hotel room door. Jay’s the one that sticks the card in Stacy’s room door slot, but Stacy then pushes him a bit and gets into the room first. She throws herself onto the bed, seemingly in a much better mood than she was in the restaurant when Jay had first arrived to comfort her. Stacy: I win! Ya know what that means… Jay actually mockingly sighs before his hands go for his shirt. Stacy: Hell ya! Lemme have it! It’s but a few seconds before Jay’s shirt is off. As soon as it is, he tosses it right at Stacy who for the first time in a number of days, chuckles and giggles like a schoolgirl. Stacy: Hang on dearest. Don’t do anythin’ else. Ya’ve gotten me in the right mood. Here, let me go change into somethin’ that you’ll enjoy. I’ve kinda been savin’ it fer a while. I hope yer appetite is more towards the southern side of thangs tonight. Jay: If it’s not Stace, I’m sure it will be. All I know is that it’s great to see you smiling. She sheepishly does so but quickly raises her head back up and takes one last peek at Jay before heading into the bathroom in the hotel room. Stacy: You…you don’t move. I’ll be back in a jiffy. I promise. There’s that word again. Although with Stacy, she’ll cash in on her promise. Unlike many around her and many that she has to work with, she is not a hypocrite. Meanwhile Jay holds his end of the bargain up as he doesn’t move a single muscle. If only we could read his mind… We definitely can though once Stacy reappears from out of the bathroom, still with a very playful look on her face, but with a much different wardrobe. Jay looks her over, starting down at her feet where she wears a pair of brown cowgirl boots. His eyes ride up her long legs until he gets to the relatively short blue jean shorts that are strapped around her waist with a black belt which she has left undone. His eyes come up further past her naval, now admiring her lovely skin, which is suddenly not showing as he reaches her breast area which is covered by a tied off plaid shirt. Jay’s eyes dance now as he’s come to her beaming face. He knows that he doesn’t need to look any more as he is once again in contact with her deep brown eyes. However to cap off her ensemble, a cowgirl hat that kind of matches the boots. Jay: Wow…just…wow. Stacy: Speechless Jay? I thought ya would be. Although I’m sure if several in SCW could see me at this moment, they’d be very quick to ridicule. Jay seems to catch his breath as he replies to her comment. Jay: But none of them are here Stace. I am. I’m different from all of them. I’ve always been and will always be a better person than all of them. She cracks a grin before producing from behind her back a small lasso that she happens to carry around her baggage. She playfully points it at her cousin/boyfriend. Stacy: Well, don’t get TOO cocky now dearest. I CAN get pretty hardcore ya know… Jay: This I am well aware of. I’ve been involved in hardcore dealings throughout my life too though. I’ll be able to handle anything you have to offer Stace. Stacy: We’ll see ‘bout that. She approaches him step by step and then puts her right hand on his bare chest, playfully pushing him towards the bed. When he gets to it, he sits down, which is when Stacy gets into his lap, facing him. A wink comes from her left eye before she wraps the lasso around her body and then wrapping her arms around Jay’s neck. Jay: You don’t have to hold back. I know there’s a lot of pent up frustration in you. Go ahead and take it out on me. I’m not going to care. She gives him a questionable look, but decides not to disappoint him. With her left hand she unwraps the lasso from around her and places it around the back of his neck, forcibly drawing Jay’s lips right to hers. The tonsil hockey begins and if anyone could see them, the puke machines would no doubt be started. But they are alone and enjoying each other’s company to the fullest. For Stacy this is the best thing to keep her mind off of Infection, off of Karnivale, and off of everything else that has been bringing her into a bad mood instead of the good one that she’s experiencing right now. [align=center]* * *[/align] With the “business” and another night now completed, Jay Gold is no longer with her as they have both gone in their separate directions for the day. Jay had told Stacy before he left that he’d be meeting with Greg and Mr. Drachewych. Stacy remembers rolling her eyes, more than once before telling him… Stacy: Good luck tryin’ to get through to the two of ‘em. However now with her man gone, she finds herself alone. Well, not technically alone being that she is now below ground in one of the many subways of New York City. People mill about all over the place in this station, hoping that they’ll be on time for their scheduled train. Stacy however is off by her lonesome, observing all the hubbub, actually finding it relaxing that she’s not amongst it. Stacy: Yup, welcome to New York. I nevah thought I’d be doin’ somethin’ like this, but now that I am, I’m enjoyin’ it. Now not as much as I enjoy bein’ with a man that SCW knows very well, but this still doesn’t make me tense…at all. I considah this a breathah from everyday life. And when I say everyday life, I mean the obvious. I mean havin’ to deal with Karnivale and dealin’ with Mistah Drachewych’s promises of grandeur. Howevah while he’s busy plottin’ and the like and Karnivale is wonderin’ when the circus’ll be in town, I’m makin’ plans on crashin’ the “big” invitational match at the 2 fer 1 supahshow. Plans that I’ll cash in on. The people just keep moving, none of them even noticing Stacy. But that’s obviously the way she wants it, as she has chosen a spot that’s pretty much in the shadows. Knowing that she won’t be disturbed, she continues after pushing a few hairs out of her eyes. Stacy: Oh but I’m sure many othahs of ya have plans as well, hopin’ that ya’ll will just come right in and take away the SCW Undahground Championship from Rachel Foxx. I hate to tell ya’ll that it’s gonna take a lot more than what ya’ll think it will to do such a task. And bein’ that I’m in this lil’ fray too, it’ll be very hard to pull off a Thorn and get lucky against both Rachel AND myself! Oh I’m sorry, where are my mannahs? Hey Thomas. I’m sure ya didn’t expect me to toss my name in the hat, but I have a great reason to. Ya see, I see this as my lunch break from Barnum, Bailey and their wenches…and also as my free pass to show ya that I can beat ya. Ya see last time the world didn’t find out which of the two of us was the bettah athlete Thomas. This time Shilo won’t be present to take somethin’ away from me that was gonna be mine. Had Shilo not gotten involved the last time out, I would be sittin’ in yer position right now as the numbah one contendah to the SCW World Championship. But ya know what? I’m not gonna sink to the low of Shilo Valiant. I’m not gonna make a mockery of SCW unlike what he and his partnah have done. Instead I’m gonna do what I signed up to do…and that’s wrassle! Yes Thomas, I’m gonna get my chance at the SCW World Championship afta ya fail both in this invitational and then again at Retribution. Stacy looks around, still admiring how people are running around like chickens with their heads cut off. She’s even grinning quite wide now, as if all her cares and troubles have just washed away. Even talking about them to herself doesn’t seem to be making her pissed off. At least not yet anyway… Perhaps it’s because she sees this as a fun challenge, just like New Year’s Eve…… Stacy: And talkin’ ‘bout failin’, that partnah and friend of yers, David Helms. I know how ya feel David…always feelin’ like yer playin’ second fiddle to Thorny ovah there. That’s a feelin’ at least that I won’t be livin’ with anymore. Ya see, I’m no longah gonna wait for Mistah Drachewych’s “full proof” plan to come to fruition. Startin’ right at the 2 fer 1 supahshow, I’m gonna reach up and grab fer as many brass rings as I can, not JUST one like everyone believes that I’m gonna reach fer. Now would becoming one half of the SCW Tag Team Champions be nice? Sure, ya bet ya! But fer me, it’s just not enough. I wanna throw it all right back in the faces of Karnivale, and since that means takin’ away the title belt that Rachel took away from ya, oh well, tough look fer you. It won’t be my fault. I mean hey, you and Thomas were the ones that came afta me and Drew fer no reason first. It was NOT the otha way ‘round. Ahh, but enough of the two of yas. There are plenty of othas that are lookin’ to give it a go here to become the new SCW Undahground Champion. Everyone from the last of Jake Starr’s lackeys…to losahs from IWC…to athletes like Lucas Knight who are dishin’ out empty threats and promises, much like many othas that I know…and even to one who does not wish to reveal his name and only sayin’ that he’s a membah of SCW’s past. Now do I have words fer all of ‘em? Of course not. I’m not just gonna sit in this smelly subway all day addressin’ every single one of ‘em. Instead I’ll get to them in the Hammerstein Ballroom, when it counts the most, whether they fly undah the SCW bannah or fer the IWC one. The Solid Gold Sensation cranes her neck as she thinks she has spotted someone that she knows. She quickly turns her back to the people in the subway station, only looking to her right side to make sure that that person is not in view of her. As soon as the figure has passed by and is out of range, Stacy turns back around, still with a cunning smile on her lips. Stacy: Heh, guess I even gotta be careful here. It’s alright though, ‘cause all of yas will have to be careful once I step into the Ballroom. The rules will at that point be thrown out the window. Oh I know most of yas love hearin’ the sound of that, bein’ that half of yas believe that yer the hardcore kings or queens of yer respective federation. But just ‘cause ya refer to yerselves as such does NOT mean that ya’ll will be walkin’ away as SCW’s Undahground Champion. That honor will be bestowed on me. And afta I’ve had my fun, then it’ll be time to…yaaaawwwwwwwn…put the sad faces on Marina, Shilo and Masquerade. At least it’ll all be ovah with though. And everyone that has been thinkin’ ‘bout goin fer the SCW Tag Team Titles will be able to shed tears of joy, knowin’ that the tag team title division’ll no longah be the runnin’ joke that Karnivale is makin’ it out to be. Hmm, with that said, it unfortunately looks like my lunch break is ovah. Such is life. I’ll see ya’ll at what will be quite the beautiful, bloody undahground ball…if any of ya’ll will dare to dance with me. The leggy Texan stands up and actually does a rather seductive dance move, still feeling obviously pretty playful. It sure is good seeing her in such a mood, but we all know that that mood will change soon enough. Besides, good things must always come to an end eventually… |
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| WAP2PLeader | Feb 21 2010, 11:51 PM Post #12 |
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Advanced Member
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NOTE TO THE READER: First of all, I am so sorry this is up so late. its been a long week here at school. I promise I will have the next rps up by the middle-later middle of the week. Also... My rps are somewhat in chronological order. Chapter 5 will be posted next week (For the 10 man tag). It will fill in the blanks between chapter 4 and this chapter. I ask those who are judging this rp to please read my rps for the ten man tag match first then proceed with these rps. Thank you. Chapter 6: What Was Mine Will Be Mine Again Am I crazy? Have I lost my mind? Is something going haywire in this battered and bruised mash of rotting cells I call a brain? ”Ya know, I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately. When I wanted to come back to SCW I asked myself that question. When I attacked General Lawler, I asked myself that question. When I enter myself in two matches on the same pay-per-view, I really ask myself that question…several times. Am I crazy? Have I lost my mind? But, no matter how many times I ask myself this question, I always end up with the same answer. The same feeling of validation. Somehow this is all going to lead to the one thing I want most- the one person I want most. So, no- I’m not crazy. Like Heath Ledger, I’m just ‘ahead of the curve.’ Listen to me, rambling on and on before I even get to the exciting part. Insert random Jason Wheeler comment here. Ah, maybe later. Anyway… ********************************** February 21…the second to last Sunday of the month. February. Always was his favourite of the months. More important to me than December and Christmas. More important to me than October and Halloween. February was important to him because it was over the quickest. And the restless form of Adam Riddick, tossing and turning in his small apartment bed, could not wait for it to be over. This year’s February was going to be special. Because at the end of it, one thing would be true- he would either be Adam Riddick the comeback superstar or Adam Riddick, the SCW Underground Champion. The very thought of his old belt around his waist again so soon was making his pulse race. It was exciting. How could it not be? It was the last belt he held before he was kicked out of SCW. It was the belt that no one had beaten him for. And though it wasn’t his main goal when he decided to return, it was definitely up there on the to-do list. He continued to toss and turn for another thirty minutes, the invitation looming over his head larger than any match he had yet faced. He knew he should sleep. His body needed rest. But, it seemed to be fighting the logic of his brain. ”Where’s a good woman when you need one?” Adam said, chuckling out loud to the empty room. His laughter echoed for a second, but quickly died out. Once more, there was silence. Usually Adam appreciated the value of a moment of silence. Tonight however, the moment seemed like an eternity. And it was driving him mad. That’s when revelation struck him. An idea so simple yet so relieving. ”If I cannot get this match off my mind, then I’ll put it on everybody else’s,” he quietly declared. Grabbing his new camera and a clean wife beater from his chest of drawers (which is really just a box), Adam began what was perhaps the longest rant of his career. ******************************* Adam sat, his elbows on his knees. In the lens of the camera, he could see something he hadn’t seen in a long time. The arched eyebrows, cutting off just a bit of his crystal blue eyes. His mouth forming the slightest of smiles. And, only in appearance, he had the look of Adam Riddick in his prime. And, inside, he had the confidence of wraith. Yes, if only for a moment he was the Adam Riddick of old. It seems like I just cant get enough of this SCW atmosphere. I mean I’ve quite often participated in multi matches in past payperviews, but to do so on my first ppv back? So the big question is, what other match could Adam Riddick possibly be in? Is he throwing his hat into the underground invitation, is he planning a run in on the heavyweight title matches? Is he gonna be become one of the first male supsertars to capture a female title belt. While that last one holds some appeal, the answer is Adam Riddick will be competing in the underground invitational! Now, before everyone pisses themselves with excitement, I will explain… Last week on breakdown, I lost, fair and square. But as important as the match was to me, it was still only a secondary concern. My first concern wasn’t about making friends or winning my match. It was about playing the name game with the SCW Roster. I wanted to know what had changed since I left. Television can only show you so much. So what better way to learn then to complete immerse yourself in a culture. And what a culture SCW has become! I met some old friends…and some old enemies. But what puzzled me the most was the underground championship. Now for those of you who don’t know, let me fill you in. There was a time long ago, when I was the underground champion and I held it for a good month. Then, for the longest time, I went without a title. And then, one day, by some freak accident, I regained that championship, and what do you know, there’s life in the ol’ bastard yet. He lets out a sigh as he looks down then back up at the camera. Unfortunately, a few weeks later I was forced to vacate the title a few weeks later. I will not go into the details but I am sure many of you have heard the legends. The point is, I was never beaten for that championship. So, it could be argued that I am still the rightful champion. Now I know that might seem a little pretentious of me, “claiming” that the championship is still mine after so many years. Let me assure you, I have no desire to make that claim. Far from it. I’m not the champion anymore. I haven’t been in a long time. And since my last title reign, there have been many great champions take over. I seem to recall Christian Savior, a former SCW Champion held this very title after me. As a matter of fact, many of the world champions started off winning this belt on their way to the top. So I feel it’s only fitting that I restart my career on this particular path…work my way from the bottom to the top…to my goal. But there is more to it than that. You see. When I first started in SCW years and years ago, the underground championship was the first title I ever won. It really meant something to me. To me, that title belt represents more than a strap. It measn you are the King of the underdogs. That while the superstars like Greg cherry, Jason Zero, James Exeter, and yes even that psychopath Dillusion sit on top of their mountains and glare down at us from their ivory palaces, there are those of us here, down below, who are the real talent of SCW. And of these superstars, there is one championship. The Underground Championship. Heavyweight title be damned. If you hold the SCW Underground championship, you are the King of the People. And that’s why I want it back. That’s why I want to reclaim what was at one time my greatest prize. Now, it’s clear to me that I cannot regain this belt without a fight. Rightfully so. As a matter of fact, I see a lot of former heavyweight champions competing for this title. And why not? They know where the real challenge is. I of course see, Dillusion, a man I have feuded with many times in the past. But I’ll get to him later. I see a gentleman named Lucas Knight, who beat me last week on breakdown. I look forward to seeing him in the squared circle again really soon. But the person I am looking forward to facing the most is the person I have the utmost respect for. So, let me start off by saying, Damian Angel, that is a blessing to see you involved in this invitational. The fans who don’t know, Damian and I have quite the history together. We came up through WWC and Bliss together, we’ve done SCW Tours together. We have fought many a great match in many different countries. Damian, I must admit, I haven’t been able to keep up with anything in the wrestling world. In Japan, I pretty much lived in a whole. I was nothing like the man I once was. I’m still not quite that man, but I am getting closer…every day. Baby steps all the time. I guess you can relate. I know you’ve had demons to face before to. Don’t think me a fool though, Damien. I haven’t been able to keep up with your career completely, but I learned enough. A ring general, a warrior, a champion. All of these titles are synonymous with your name. It starts giving me the willies that I get to face such a warrior again. Let me ask you something Damian. Are you looking forward to this match as much as I am. I hope so because anything less then your best would be an insult to the legacy we have created. When the fans hear that the next round of the Riddick vs. Angel Saga has been announced, they flock by the thousands to bear witness. We’ve sold out countries together Damian for our matches. Now, it’s time to do it all over again. There is no doubt in my mind my friend that you and I will be among the finalist in this invitational. I am sure that it will be you or me holding that belt. In fact I am praying it does. Look at me, Damian. Adam dropped to his knees and looked up to the heavens. Dearest God who I love so much. I am asking, no I am beggin you. Please…please give me Damian Angel one more time. Let me lock horns with a man who I consider to be one of my greatest combatants. Just one more time that’s all I ask. Did you hear that, Damian? Sure you did. Did you notice I didn’t beg his Lord Almighty to let me win? You know why? I still want the belt, and I will fight like hell to get it, but if it doesn’t matter if I can’t make it happen this time around because winning matches isn’t what I am about anymore. I’m in it for the thrill. Win or lose, I will get what I want. The chance to fight the greatest superstars of SCW one more time. But in case you are feeling over confident, let me remind you who I am. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You may be the best but you better bring everything you have, because Adam Riddick will not insult the fans by giving less then everything he has. He always does and always will. When that bell rings, Adam Riddick will be waiting for you, Damian, to pick up where we left off 3 years ago. *************************************** 3 Days Later Grocery Store ”Let me see here- we got mustard, tuna, a little bit of oatmeal, some jube jubes for snackage. Yup…that’s everything,” Adam stated with a smile as he crumpled his shopping list and stuffed it into his pocket. Even with the advanced paycheck that Drachewych had given him to settle back home in Windsor, he still found himself eating much of the same diet he was on in Japan. Tuna, mustard, eggs, milk. ”I guess old habits are hard to break,” he said to no one in particular. He stared at the mere contents of his shopping basket. It was only four days before the match and Adam was determined to not let himself lose what little bit of preparation he had developed. Despite being back home for a short time, he was already getting into the swing of things again. His technique was improving, his speed was improving- everything seemed to be going well for him. However, his promo skills still remained something to be desired. But he was determined to keep his forward momentum going. If that meant stomaching more tuna and mustard, then so be it. With a smile on his face, he headed towards the checkout- almost skipping. In such a state of euphoria was the Renegade Rocker that he skipped himself right into someone else’s shopping cart. What took place could be compared to the fall of the ninety-nine cent soup tower of ’97. As he plummeted towards the ground, Adam could only watch in horror as the cart began to lose its trapped delicacies. The eggs seemed to float in mid-air. The bread seemed to cry as it fell. The onions brought tears to his eyes as their skins fell to the floor. And then, in a horrifying moment of sheer pain, the eggs crashed to the earth- their desperate cries of ‘splat splat’ echoed through his mind. Reaching down to the very depths of his soul. The bread fell shortly after- wounded and misshapen from its former glory. The milk landed with a sickening thud- it was wounded and its inner liquids seeped through the holes of its now punctured body. Adam brought himself to his knees and looked up to the sky, his hands reaching for the heavens. His comrades all dead…what else did he have to live for? The song ‘Adagio’ played through his mind. ”When will we learn?” Adam said with a whisper that could make angels cry. ”Adam, what are you doing?” A disheartened Riddick opened his eyes and turned around. Suddenly he realized that these things were not people and could not die at all. They were food and could not die. A bit embarrassed at this overdramatic nature, Adam raised to his feet. A slight hue of pink came to his cheeks. He realized it was Kassie Khane’s cart he just flipped over. Embarrassment turned to shock. Shock turned to fear. That fear soon turned to happiness that she was here and he could see her. And then that happiness turned to sadness when he looked at the floor and saw all the sandwiches his kids could not have because of his holly-jolly nature. All of this happened in about five seconds. ”Sorry, Kassie- I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” Kassie smiled and began picking up the groceries. Adam tried his best to help her as he began replacing the broken groceries with his own. But as soon as he reached for the peanut butter, his kids’ favorite lunchtime sandwich filling, he felt his hand brush Kassie’s for a moment as they had both reached for the item at the same time. Their eyes drifted downward, but soon looked upward- neither saying anything. They both got up, halfway between aisle four and five: snacks and produce, incomprehension hanging between them. It hung there for a good ten seconds. And then he was gone again. He had left Kassie alone in the middle of the grocery store. Kassie wanted to say something, but what could she have said? She realized that sometimes it’s best not to say anything at all. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as he walked away. And, even when he was out of her sight, she was still thinking about him. ”That leaking milk is going to ruin his car’s leather interior.” ********************************** ”We don’t often see what is good in our lives until we lose it. Same thing could be said about you, huh Dillusion? I mean, just look at you. Why are you here? When I knew you so many years ago you were something else. I remember saying to myself this guy is freaky, man. This guy is going places. This guy is going to be an SCW champion. What happened to you? Where is everything you once held dear? You’re not the same guy you were three years ago. I could tell by the things you say. By the way you walk backstage. I can tell by your anger, the way you carry yourself. I’m not a shrink, Dillusion. I can’t psychoanalyze you any better than I can win an SCW heavyweight championship match. If you remember correctly, I haven’t won any. But I can listen. And, I know we will be fighting in ten days. And I want you to know something, Dillusion. As ridiculous as this is going to sound, and I know people will think I’m being too soft and too mushy, but if you need someone to talk to just know that I am here. Then again, you may be happy with what you have become. You may be happy with losing everything, and that’s fine. Once you hit rock bottom you can only go up. Believe me, I’m there. Is that what you’re trying to do, Dillusion? Work your way back up? Well, to be honest you’ve picked the right match to do that with. This title means a lot to both of us. We’ve both held the championship. Unfortunately, there is one thing wrong with your plan. You’re going to have to really want this belt to get it. And it’s not just because you’re fighting me. Because even if you get through me, you’re going to have to go through some of SCW’s finest stars to get that belt. Let’s say you beat me in the first round. Well, then you’ve gotta go through Lucas Knight. Then if you beat him you go through Damian Angel. Once you beat him you have to go through who knows who else? Are you strong enough to pick yourself up after every single punch, takedown, finisher, trademark, boo, condemnation that the crowd throws at you? Because you’ll have to do that again and again and again on Sunday. And just when you think you’ve made a step closer to winning that title and you have your hands raised in the ring, someone else will be coming up right behind you to take it from you. And even if you knock one of us down, if you manage to bring one of these other great stars to their knees, and you think you are better than them- just know you have many more superstars to go through. The Dillusion I knew three years ago knew how to handle a situation like this. What can you even hope to accomplish, Dillusion, now the way you are? You have everything- friends, loved ones, an entire roster supporting him. The guy you see performing now is still just a shadow of his former self. It takes a shadow to know a shadow, Dilluison. If you’re happy being in the shadow, then I’m happy for you. Despite our differences all these years I still consider you an honorable man. Whatever you choose I still respect your decision. Maybe winning this match will get you back on track for being the person you once were. But, there will be a lot of guys fighting for the same thing. And I’m one of them. And if you think you can half-ass your way through this match with superstars like me, the Renegade Rocker, then you don’t belong in his match. You’ve got four days time- I suggest you use them. ****************************************** ”You really are the whole world to me. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you back. I trust you more than anyone else. You always listen to me. You always know just what to say. I love you, hunny.” Radames let out a playful bark, as he tackled Adam and licked his face. It had been three years since he had last been with his dog Radames. Fortunately, his friend Ron did a great job of taking care of his dog while he was away. It didn’t seem like Radames had forgotten him in the least. Now that he was in his apartment with his old friend licking him, he finally felt at peace. ”I’m finally home.” But this was hardly the time to relax. The match was looming over his head like the sword of Damacles. Now was the time for Adam to do what he did best- train. With only a little time left before his match, there was only one form of training that could get him ready in time... ****************************************** ”I don’t know how you guys prepare yourself for matches. I cannot begin to comprehend the latest in training technology or supplements- I cannot understand them despite my knowledge in human kinetics. But you know what? I really don’t care. I hope you guys are training, no matter what your methods are. With everything you have. All of you. Because the eyes of the whole wrestling world will be on this match. Not in a long time has there been such a battle for, in my opinion, one of the most coveted prizes in this federation. It would be a shame for that belt to be tarnished by your inability to rise to a champion’s level. I’ve already mentioned Dilluison. I’ve already mentioned Damian Angel. Now I’m talking to all of you. The rest of you. You’re facing former champions of this title. I don’t know if any of you have ever held it before, but those of you who have better bring the same intensity you brought to your title defenses. And those of you who haven’t better bring more. Because we know what it has been like to be at the top of the mountain and how easy it is to fall. I can speak for myself when I say that once you fall from the mountain, you make yourself a promise that if you ever make it back up to the top you will never fall down again. Here we are, all of us, fighting for the top of the mountain. And we’re ready. The question is… …are you ready? Adam smiled as he turned off the camera. Now, with all that off his chest, he knew he would at last sleep well. |
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| Master Roboto | Feb 21 2010, 11:54 PM Post #13 |
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Advanced Member
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OOC: I am giving a prologue to my major rp that will come very soon since I am posting so clsoe to deadline. Bit of a warning, this one is going to be larger. As always, try to read my roleplays as one large one. Good luck all. I am drastically changing the makeup of Roboto Corps, so here goes. Prologue: The Calm Before The Storm In life, our existence is defined by one consistent force. A force that is uninterrupted by any and is the single cause of all things in this world. This of course is the only unconquerable power in the world. It is called change, and we all must deal with it. For those who try to fight change are only doomed to failure. Naturally, I do not wish to say I have learned to conquer this power, because as I said, it is not possible. Rather I say this because a change is going on in the happenings of Roboto Corp. Right now, I sit with my ink and quill pen writing in my log of what is sure to happen. My clients, Marek Thorn and Silas Sands, are making their way towards my office at this very moment. They believe I wish to discuss their tag team match, but it is not so. For as SCW will recall, their contract is with me and my contracted superstars. Unfortunately, that gives me, at any time, the power to alter my roster. Such a thing is going to happen now, but I best not spoil the surprise. In truth, I would rather you sit back and watch what is about to transpire. What does this have to do with the SCW Underground Invitational Battle Royale that is set for the IWC slash SCW supershow? Why everything of course, because I would be daft if I did not enter one of my own talents into it. Not Marek or Silas, I am afraid, for their fates are soon to be revealed. No, I will be sending in to the one you USED to call Loki. But Loki he is no more. For time has not been kind to the boy’s mind, and when I found him, I found him clinging to that former innocence he once had. An innocence that was shattered by Chris Lawler, and an act that he has never been able to forgive. Lawler damaged him beyond measure, and what has happened since is the nature of such things. Loki has grown up. Not grown up to a bitter adult like the one they call Riggs, or that fob-ish fool called Debonair, but rather he is in between the stage of infant innocence to the other side that is adult hood. In other words, Loki has become a teenager, and one peculiar one as I can perceive. Of course I had my hand in what sort of teenager he has become, but even I must step back and marvel at this new piece of art. It will take the SCW by storm if properly managed, and of course, under my care it will be. But it will take all my efforts, all my knowledge and, indeed, all of my skills. It is too much for any one man to do when he has others weighing the boy down… even for one such as myself. This is where we shall start… Retrograde in 3… 2… 1… =================== ========================= Marek Thorn stepped through the door first. I, the man from beyond the mask of Master Roboto, watched him enter, wearing his usual rocker attire. He was accompanied by Silas Sands, certainly in a foul mood as usual. ‘Alright’ Silas said in his usual tone. ‘What the hell have you brought us here for? I have places to be.’ He always talked like that, and I had finally had enough of it. I did not yell, because I wanted to savor this moment. I opened my silver briefcase, pulling out two pieces of paper that I put on the table. ‘Do not worry, Silas. You won’t have to be here for very long. I summoned you here to inform you that your services are no longer needed at Roboto Corp.’ ‘WHAT?!’ both exclaimed with equal amount of disbelief. Silas didn’t even respond first, which had been my inclination. Marek did. ‘What do you mean we aren’t needed? You’re firing us?! We have a tag team match next Breakdown?’ ‘Actually, you do not. I have called SCW officials, and the process has already begun to have that match altered. Personally, I am surprised you didn’t hear of it earlier, but that is progress for you in all its double edged glory.’ ‘You piece of shit.’ Silas said, his hands balling into fists. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are? You can’t fire us. We’ve won all our matches for you! We made you rich off your stupid betting.’ Now I was not surprised that the arrogant prick knew of my gambling, but regardless I stood up, reading my own fists to finally deck him one. Of course, I did not. I’m not that foolish. ‘Say what you will, Silas.’ I replied keeping my tone calm. ‘But truth be told, you especially were a bitter disappointment in your matches. You were able to beat the crappiest of superstars and out of the three of you, there was very little promise. I can’t waste my time mentoring chumps. There’s a whole smorgasbord of better champions out there, and I have to make sure that my clients can take them all. You two obviously cannot, so take your papers and go. You will find that SCW stands by me in this decision.’ Marek stood there, somewhat shocked, but he reached over and took the paper. Silas looked ready to tear my head off. ‘So… when are you going to tell Loki?’ Marek’s concern was genuine and I felt a bit bad for lying to him, but Marek did not have as much potential as the younger one, and his ways were set in stone. Loki I could, and had, molded into the very epitome of change. Marek would be fine wherever he was. Silas… I gave him six months before he was in prison again. ‘I’m not.’ I said, not caring if either of them figured it out. ‘Loki is staying on with me.’ ‘WHAT?!’ this time it was only Silas who raised his voice. ‘You’re keeping that deluded piece of shit child over me. I can tear him in half without breaking a sweat. I AM THE FUTURE OF THIS BUSINESS! NOT THAT RETARDED BOY!’ ‘Someone call my name?’ The two turned to the door way. I had not counted on Loki’s arrival, but it was still a nice touch. He stood there dressed as I had last seen him. He wore a white jacket with fur on the collar, white pants and multi colored under shirt. His face was made up with some make up and paint and his hair, what was once dirty blonde had been colored every shade of the rainbow. To some, he would look like a freak of the homosexual variety. That was the beauty of it. With his speed and agility, he was going to turn heads like never before, and his look was only going to piss more people off… it was a perfect weapon. ‘The… fuck?’ Silas stated looking over the young man at the door. ‘Loki? What the hell did you do to yourself? You looked like you just got shit out of a rainbow!’ ‘Actually, Silas.’ Loki’s voice startled even Silas, for so little did he ever speak before. ‘This is the look of the future. This is what everyone is going to accept as the look of a REAL champion. Something new. Something edgy… something… colorful.’ He took something out of his pocket. It took me a moment to realize that it was his yo yo. He started to play with it while Silas went back to me, laughing at me face. ‘You have got to be shitting me, Roboto. You think people are going to buy this look for Loki? They are going to laugh at him the whole time, and you are going to be the laughing stock of the wrestling world.’ I shrugged. Clearly, Silas was not grasping the concept that he was fired. Marek, on the other hand, had already walked over to him and patted him on his shoulder before leaving. The two would talk later. I knew they would. Marek and Loki were friends, and it was hard to see him go, but even Loki understood what was needed here. Silas, on the other hand, was not going to be as obliging. ‘They will laugh.’ I said to him. ‘You will laugh. Unfortunately, they are going to quickly run out of breath. I for one, can guarantee that. Loki is a lot stronger than you think, Silas. In fact, I daresay that your dismissal is a blessing for you. How embarrassing would it be if this ‘rainbow shit’ boy defeated you in the middle of the ring?’ Silas grit his teeth together before turning towards Loki. I knew what he would do the second before he did it. He launched himself forward, running towards the boy. Loki didn’t move. Not until the last possible second of Silas’ punch. He ducked it, letting the fist hit solid wall. You could have heard the breaking of bones for miles. And if you couldn’t hear the bones breaking, then you could have heard the sound of Silas’ scream as he fell back to the floor, gripping his broken hand in pain. ‘Silas… take your papers and leave us.’ Loki said with an almost emotionless voice. He continued to play with his yo yo while he did so, making his way to the table, scooping up the papers and tossing them on the floor in front of Silas, who just starred at them. ‘You’re making a mistake, Roboto. And Loki… you’re gonna answer to me for this. I swear to FUCKING GOD YOU WILL ANSWER FOR THIS!’ With his free hand, he grabbed his papers and hightailed it out of there. I watched him go. When the last set of doors being slammed was heard in the distance, Loki collapsed into his chair, letting his yo yo stop its up and down motion. ‘You alright, kid?’ He nodded. All this had been rather sudden for Loki, but for me, it was months and months of planning. ‘I just hate to see Marek go. He was really nice to me.’ ‘Yeah, but that’s the cost of success. You told me you want to be successful in SCW, right?’ ‘Oh yes, Mr. Roboto. I was away from SCW for so long, and I didn’t realize just how much I missed it when I was gone, but I could never get back until you brought me in. I owe you everything.’ Such words are exactly what a man like me needs to hear from his clients. ‘Just remember that, my boy. Remember it well when the rest of SCW wonders just how the hell they ever underestimated you.’ ‘I will sir.’ He sat there perched on the seat, trying his best to look ready for what was to come. In truth, though, he probably didn’t have the slightest clue. It wasn’t cause he was dumb or anything, but because I simply had not told him yet. ‘Master Roboto, sir. Just what IS the next step?’ I took out a cigar, freshly cut from Cuba. I took a match, lit it, and spent a few moments enjoying the taste of it before I answered his question. ‘When you came to me a few weeks ago, wondering why you felt the way you did. Wondering why everything around the world didn’t seem the same…’ He nodded through his rose colored sunglasses, octagon shaped. He ran his hands through his multi colored hair. The hair was a nice touch. I made it predominantly white white with streaks of different colors shooting all round. ‘You were seeing the world as it was. Before, I was afraid that your innocence would be your undoing. Now… well let’s look at it this way. When I Asked you about Chris Lawler, you bore him no ill will. Can you say the same now?’ He looked over to me, his head shaking with an emphatic ‘No’. ‘I didn’t think so. You are on a vendetta to take down Chris Lawler. To do this will require all of my focus, because after Chris Lawler… there is going to be another set of trials for you, I have no doubt. We have to be ready for them, and that is why instead of Sands and Thorn… YOU are going to be taking on Mitchell and Pugh at Breakdown. On your own.’ ‘What?! But I had a hard enough time with Pugh the FIRST time.’ I raised my hand, taking another hit from my cigar. ‘We don’t need to focus on that right now. For now… we are going to prepare you for that Underground Battle Royale at that Supershow next weekend. There are going to be a lot of superstars so you better be prepared.’ He nodded, doing as I commanded. ‘I know you probably already have this figured out, but how in the world are we going to prepare for like twenty superstars. Most of them don’t even know who I am.’ ‘That’s right… they don’t, but believe me, my friend. They will soon. VERY soon.’ I patted him on his shoulder and went to the window. I saw Marek driving the car out of the parking lot. Silas was wherever, and meanwhile, Loki sat there worrying about what was going to happen next. ‘Sir… you said something about a new name?’ He asked, taking his glasses off and looking up to me with those same dark eyes that said that innocence from ignorance was gone. ‘Yes, my boy, but we can worry about that later. For now… you go and play for a bit. You’ve had a rough couple of days, and I think you are entitled to some happiness before the storm comes in.’ ‘Ok.’ He said with a smile and scampered off to play some video games. I watched him go. Yes, the change would continue soon. It would come first in the form of a promo that the world would barely comprehend, but bit by bit, the world would come to accept it. Simple as that. Soon, every last member the SCW roster was going to know and fear the name… Retro |
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| Riggs | Feb 22 2010, 03:14 PM Post #14 |
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Newbie
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![]() Stars in your eyes OOC: I posted this on IWC forums a few days ago but thought I would post it here aswell.
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| BSteele | Feb 26 2010, 01:33 AM Post #15 |
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True Perfection
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The Lost Prophecy of Bishop Steele: PART VIII "Passion" Passion, though a bad regulator, is a powerful spring. - Ralph Waldo Emerson --- It was April the second of 2008 when The Outlaw shook hands with the devil atop a lifeless Jordan White. It was a formality seen around the world, and a turning point in a young star's career. Bishop Steele had emerged as more than a quality Television champion and had become a number one contender for the largest bounty in SCW -- the Underground Title. To the people that believed in him, Steele had become a sour note sprung from a terrible organist's hands. For the first time in his career, Bishop knew what it was like to be truly hated by an audience of 60,000 people. Still, he looked down at a fallen ally with a Cheshire grin stuck on his beaten face. Bishop Steele had made something of himself. As a new commodity and a freshly brewed Social Misfits, Steele rose beyond the likes of Blake Mason, Damian Angel, and everyone else thrust in front of him. He was a man bound for gold and after capturing the Underground title people knew that he had a worse bite than his bark preached. Still, it wouldn't be his title reign that defined him, nor his battles with Dillusion. Instead, Bishop Steele created his legend on February the twelfth of 2010 -- Breakdown. Once again Bishop Steele had shaken the proverbial hand of the devil and cashed his check to become the most hated return of the year. As he had in the past though, he accepted all criticism with a fresh crop of yellow teeth gleaming under the ring lights. Just as he had before, Steele had become the number one contender for the Underground championship. Or so he thought. On the floor reaching for his toes, Steele remembered Drachewych's momentous announcement. It changed everything the Underground Championship Invitational match stood for. Bishop’s match with 11 other superstars was a farce and his moment of glory had been soiled. In his darkest nightmares he couldn't have planned a better plot and hearing that it would soon be reality was almost more than he could handle. There was betrayal in his stomach and there were dreams torn to pieces on the floor. On a whim he wanted to forget that he returned, he wanted to carry Dillusion back over the top rope, and he wanted to pretend that he was finished with the game. There was no pretending though, Bishop Steele would face David Helms and that was the end of it. Switching legs, Steele had a passion in his expression noted by hazel flames in his irises. The burning tongues whipped into the whites of his eyes because deep down he knew that he had made the right decision. Over time, Bishop had learned that there were snakes in all aspects of life, and of them, Dillusion was their king. Terror twisted his back stretching the muscles. With every king there are those set to destroy order. According to Drachewych , Bishop was the mutinous beast destined to do so. It was what he had to do. --- Not even two foot snow banks were enough to cancel the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Keeping warm with the head of his cigarette, Bishop Steele watched as smiling Jamie and sappy Adrianna Ashley made their way up the front steps through a door leading to the school gym. Their expressions were precious -- the kind that didn't mind the mounds of snow. Cigarette after cigarette, Jay watched the rest of the members follow in with the same stupid smile splattered on their lips. They were chipper to say the least which was in stark comparison to Bishop's diminishing pack of cigarettes. Lighting the last of the box, he let his eyes ease down the street studying the lack of cars present. Among the shortage was Alexis. A promise had been made, and twenty minutes later, Bishop knew that something had come between it. He pulled loose his cellular and pressed the speed dial. One ring. A second. She picked up after the third with blast beats breaking behind her. "You coming?" She had no idea what he was talking about and Bishop's patience visibly began to thin. He kicked the brick behind him and rolled his eyes. "The meeting. That god damn stupid meeting, Lexi. What the hell are you doing?" She remembered with his hint but seemed scattered by the master mix behind her. "Are you coming or not?" She didn't want to come. "Skip it? I thought you wanted this. I was here for you, Lexi." She knew, she knew. Using her power of persuasion, Alexis Steele connected her words into a well prepared proposal. "Fine, come get me. Just be quick." Steele flipped the phone shut and returned to the nicotine. It soothed him to know that he'd dodge Jamie even if it meant Alexis would fall behind. She picked up on the cigarettes, avoided all forms of help for the addiction, and managed to show Bishop that she was perfectly fine. Bishop could see beyond the freckles and white teeth though and knew there was someone else behind her mask. It wasn't his battle though and, in the end, Bishop couldn't live for her. The most he could do was take the promises and try and guide her along them. Steele smoked the end of the cigarette slowly while waiting. His effort to avoid the inside clamor was, unfortunately, cut short by Adrianna Ashley's nosey sense of smell. She pulled open the cracked door and walked onto the concrete step Bishop had found. She leaned on the wall watching Bishop wait. "Haven't seen you in a while, Bishop." "Yep, Adrianna." “ Ash," she prodded. Bishop still hadn't been able to grasp the idea of the name nor did he truly want to. "Where have you been?" Bishop checked her pant pockets for cigarettes but they were too shallow to hold anything. He continued to take tiny tugs at the cancer stick. "I've been busy. Been traveling." "You've been sober then too?" "Of course. You?" "It's been months now, yeah. Isn't it great?" "The best," he said sarcastically. Ash smiled making it hard to tell if she understood sarcasm. She was wearing a tee-shirt in the winter air and Jay could only hope it meant a short exit. "You should come in today. I'm going to be talking about a few things. I've been planning this for a while now." "Congratulations." He scanned the snow banks without sighting Alexis's car. "No, really. It's going to be a good one. I'm going to bring up alternatives, some fun activities, all kinds of stuff. You really could benefit from it I think." "Alexis's coming to get me. I have a plane to catch." "Where's Alexis been?" She was a broken record spitting the same snappy seventies song until it got rotten on the ears. "She's been with me." "Makes sense. So you two are -- together then?" "Not really, no. The death's got me watching over her and some of the mistakes she's made." "The drinking kind?" "All kinds." "What time's your flight? I'm sure you could sit in for a few at least. It won't be the end of the world I mean." "Too soon." He smoked as if he'd break the tobacco making the best of the last stick. "I can't miss this flight." "When'll you be back?" The torrent continued and Terror looked at the street again hoping Alexis would skid into position. "Not for a few weeks. Have a few shows to do and people to meet down south and overseas. Like I said, too busy traveling." "That's right; you're a wrestler, yeah?" "Yeah. Aren't you cold?" "Hardly." She grabbed at Bishop's arm knocking his cigarette into a snowy hill. The flame burned to the bottom of the lump and Steele watched the fire fade. "I'm so sorry, Bishop. Really, I didn't mean that. I'll get you another one. Henry has some." Steele looked to the road and was delighted to see Alexis rumbling toward them. She double flashed her high beams and Steele looked Ash deep in the eyes. "My ride's here." With defeat in her voice she replied, "Tell Alexis I give her my best?" Steele ignored her and walked through the snow toward the car. Alexis was drinking something out of a can when he opened the door. The car pulled down the road and Bishop leaned back in his seat. "Where have you been?" He looked at the can and had a good idea. "I stopped for a fast drink and lost track of time. S'all." She slurred the sentence pasting together odd combinations. Her driving seemed OK but her attentiveness seemed lost. Coming up on a red light, Bishop crossed his fingers. "You skipped the AA meeting for a beer? Classy, Lexi." "I had a stressful day." "It's eleven in the morning. There hasn't been much day to stress over yet." "Don't preach, Bishop. Gimme' a break." He wanted to stomp the break, stick her in the passenger's seat, and drive her to a chair at the meeting. None of those events would go as planned though and instead sat back with a shit-eating grin. "This one's on you, Alexis. I got more important things to deal with than you drinking yourself to death." "Dillusion? You're an idiot." She ignored a stop sign with no true consequences. "You really think you'll make it out alive this weekend? He's punched his ticket, Bishop. You're fucked." "Says the drunk." "I'm not drunk." "There's rules to the road, Lexi. You got any cigarettes left?" "Dillusion gonna rip your face off and show it as a prize. You don't have a chance." "Fuck off," he spat. Alcohol had a way of stuffing her veins with one hundred percent courage and she played off it like anyone would. "Just stay on the fuckin' road." She turned to face Jay and, in that instant, the car ignored the turn. Steel hit steel and, before long, a fat stack of smoke sifted from under the hood. A snow tornado wrapped the pollution like bacon around steak and carried it off through a nearby neighborhood. Red and blue lights followed the scent parking behind the wrecked Audi. "You happy now, Bishop?" Steele shut his eyes and leaned his seat back to the one behind him. The law wore his standard blue attire in the flavor of heavy-set with an extra long belt to accommodate his extensive stomach. The expression on his face was fairly blank with hints of curiousness laced throughout. "Bishop, c'mon. Sit up. Help me out." "Explain it all to him, Lexi. Go on with it." The officer touched the tail of the Audi before walking up to Alexis’s open window. He looked in and asked Bishop to pull the seat up. Bishop obliged and looked down to the cup holder. He remembered the open can of Bud Light. "Looks like you two missed the turn." "Actually, I think we hit it," Bishop reassured. The officer grinned, "fair enough." His eyes wandered and before long he could see the evidence sitting before him. With an extended finger, he pointed to the beer can. "You been drinking already?" "That was me," said Bishop. "Rough morning?" "I've been having those, yeah." As well as Bishop was selling it, Alexis was failing miserably. She was turning green as the clock aged and her eyes looked ready to pop. The officer was quick to tell and tapped her on the shoulder. "You think you could step out of the car please?" She nodded and Bishop watched the officer bring loose the breathalyzer. She hardly knew how to blow into it as it happened and when the number came back Bishop knew things were over. He found the license and registration and within a half hour she was cuffed, tossed in the back seat, and driven away. Left alone, Bishop Steele found his phone again to call for his limousine. It came soon enough. --- Typically Bishop wears a standard black boot with four clasps on each side. They hang under his jagged jeans. As he pulls the first over his sock and tightens the lace around the backside of the clasp he realizes that it isn't his reflection he sees as usual. A steel chair smashed face looks back at Steelewith black splotches surrounding the eyes. They're his eyes. Dillusion is on the canvas reaching to return the chair shot but Steele is in control for the evening. The second clasp isn't of Dillusion but rather Ninja. His face paint colors a dented chair passing his expression into the steel. There's a message between the lines and Bishop can hear it loud and clear. The third clasp shows Damian Angel standing victorious. His triumph is that of a pummeling after a last minute save. As she smiles so does he. They're one with each other proclaiming victory as a pair. The fourth clasp is laced with too many faces. Of them, the police, hotel staff, airport staff, and even other superstars exist. They are the ones who can't understand the who and the why. They are the people that question whether there's a point to the madness. They wonder why Dillusion would break a nose and they ask how sane Bishop is for tossing Dillusion through a second story window. Tying the knot at the top of the boot, Bishop knows that no matter how many faces he sees there will always be one too many. --- It was a suite meant for very important people and Bishop accepted the key from Jerry Jones himself. There was a sense of respect between them as they met in the lobby and an overwhelming feeling of confidence. He believed it was passed through the handshake as if Jerry Jones had a way to aid the established superstar. Nonetheless, the suite was nothing short of spectacular. A window stretched across the far wall highlighting the greatest aspects of Dallas. Couches rested below the window and various plants in the corners. Carrying his bag, Steele passed by the bathroom and into the master bedroom. It was created for a king and that's exactly how he felt taking a seat on the throne. It was dressed in gold and Steele lay back feeling the perfect breeze from the fan above. Of everyone, Alexis would appreciate the room most. Even the rag-tag rooms were marvelous in her eyes. She wouldn't be able to see the true wonders of it all though until morning when she was released. He'd already arranged the car and plane to take her to Dallas. Sliding to the top of the bed, Steele took his place between the balanced battle of pillows. They were gold, they were green, and they were split in half by his casually dressed body. The TV remote was within reach and immediately the screen turned to show previews for 2 for 1 Special. His clean cut head appeared on screen followed by the daunting eyes of Dillusion. The sight of him brought back drunken words and lingering questions. Was he going to blow it all? There was time invested in his victory with enough promises to build a career. Still, Alexis spoke with complete honesty stating how easily Dillusion would tear him apart. There was evidence of course. His chin still wore a small bandage and his nose would always have the sizeable lump Damian had created. The injuries were minimal in the grand scheme of things however. Bishop knew that there was more to winning a war than a few battles. There had to be passion, there had to be excessiveness, and there had to be conviction. Steele knew he had it all. It would be four hours later when Bishop found sleep and in that time he had still come to no true conclusion. Dillusion could rightfully kick his ass in his mind but the question still remained -- would Bishop let him. --- Michael James wraps the tape around Bishop's wrist, slowly; making sure it's on straight. He has focus in his eyes and a sense of pride riding on his shoulders. Steele understands. To James he's tying his own tape. In his eyes it's he who is bringing the fight to Dillusion again; it's a dream that he wants bad enough to believe in. Steele can only grin. It's a shadow he's meant to depart from and it's a legacy he's meant to create. No matter how it's done, it's the final outcome at the end of all roads. Starting with Rich Rollins, Steele took a legend and forced him into his grave. Jason Dread soon followed with a terrible end. With Dillusion, Steele knew that Michael James would not only be avenged, but reborn. He'd become whole finally and the torch would be fit to pass to the next generation. Caldera cut the tape on his right wrist and moved to the left. Their eyes met in the exchange and there was hope in his. For the first time in a long time Michael James truly believed in something special. He knew that his hand had been redealt and the odds were in his favor. It's those eyes and that hunger that drives Bishop Steele. --- Alexis's jaw dropped as she looked through the large glass overseeing Dallas. There was shock in her mind and an inability to speak growing in her throat. Steele passed by her with his lit cigarette and found one of the couches. He pulled in an ash tray. "You like it?" "Like it? This is something else, Bishop. Let's do 2 for 1 Special more often." "Heh, yeah." "Jerry Jones gave you the key you said?" "Yeah. He's a good enough guy; reminds me a lot of James." "How long can we stay here?" "Don't get a DUI and we'll stay a few days. We'll see how it goes though. I have press conferences to attend and people to meet. It'll be all you." "I can deal. Hell, I may get lost in here." She walked across the floor to the couch beside Bishop. There were eight total couches in the main section alone. She grabbed a cigarette and lit it with his lighter. "You better beat him now." "Still doubting me?" "I didn't mean it. It was the alcohol." "And we see where that got you." "I was living a day in his shoes I guess. Fact is I'm figuring it out, Bishop. You know it's been hard since Steve passed." It had been months since her husband was crushed in his pick-up truck. "He wouldn't be happy with how it all went afterwards." "I know." "Just saying, we gotta' live a respectable life sometimes. There's people that believe in us and stupid shit like that shatters it all. I mean, shit, if I was behind that wheel I'd have a gang of people shunning me this week. Especially this week." "It wasn't though. I blame it on that Jordan girl." "Ash." "Whoever. Her and those -- activities you said? People like her, Bishop. People like her." "You going to be OK here? I have to meet James." "I think I can get along without you." Bishop nodded and smashed his cigarette into the ashtray. He passed it to Lexi before standing and leaving altogether. Michael James was a precise man and Bishop was precisely three minutes late. As the elevator fell seven floors to the lobby Bishop admired the eloquent interior. The door opened on the bottom floor and Bishop stepped out only to be sideswiped by the president himself. "Get lost up there?" "Settling Alexis’s where are we going?" James led the way past the desk. There was a small bistro in the lobby and Steele was surprised to see it was their final destination. "Just wanted to get a sit-in with you while I had a minute. There's so much to do still but I needed to make sure all was OK." They took seats at a corner table where two cups of tea were waiting for them already. Steele sipped it. "What do you mean by OK?" "I mean in your head. Are you nervous? Anxious? Anything? What's going on up there?" Steele offered an inaudible review of the tea and set it down. "I'm ready. Just ready. I mean, I don't know what else I can say. The guy's made an ass out of me and broken me into pieces these last few weeks and it's time. I want to sleep right again." "Not sleeping?" "Alexis's been wearing on that too, but yeah, not very well." "I've been in your shoes with Dillusion before. It's usual. He has a draw to him that, honestly, is impossible to avoid. It's like a raging right hook I guess. You can try and duck all you want but there will always be a left uppercut to follow. My best advice is to stop playing out the what-ifs and tune into the whys. Think of why we're doing this and why you're here today. Remember what he's done and I think you'll be able to fix the sleep issue." "I know. It's just -- I don't know. You think I can overcome all the hype?" "Think? Bishop there's no more time for thinking. It's D-Day and we're about to storm the beach. Are you having doubts?" "Not in myself, no. I just don't know what he's like between those ropes. I mean, besides a tag team contest, we haven't met on sanctioned grounds. It's a shot in the dark kinda'." "You saw him at Breakdown. He's got his style and his moves but so do you. This is why I wanted to meet with you. I realize there's a lot of pressure building on your shoulders but you have to breathe and let it fall into your hands. You've handled harder situations before and overcome them. Just walk out with your chin up and you'll be in line to knock his chin down. It's all about you now, Bishop. Forget the hype, forget me, forget everything. It's you and another step toward the gold." "I want that gold." "I know you do. So do I. And it'll come. You can't plant the flowers before weeding the garden though." "Man, I swear you get philosophical in the clinch." "Forget it. How're you feeling?" "Like I did when I won the Just championship now. Mostly at least." "That's a good feeling." James took a swig of the tea and echoed the review Steele had given. A quick glance at his wrist watch told him it was time to go. "I hate to run but there are things that need to be set-up and they're waiting for me." He stood and so did Bishop. "Remember what I said and I'll see you in the morning." "I'll see you." Michael James walked off and Steele watched him wave to the lobby clerk. Bishop took his seat again and another sip of the tea. It was still a decent brew. --- James's advice, although understandable, was absolutely awful. No matter how many times he pictured the reasons why he'd always circle back to scenarios. There was a simulator in his head and Bishop knew that the only way to smash it was to inhale a fresh crop of tobacco. He pulled the comforter loose and left the master room. His cigarettes and lighter were on a table in the main room and he swiped them as he walked toward the balcony doors. The marble floor reflected the full moon which illuminated his path outside. In the crisp Dallas air, Steele found a seat near the door and lit the nicotine stick. There was something almighty about the moon -- soothing even. It carried itself like a Underground Champion. Shutting his eyes, Bishop felt whole in its embrace. He let the cigarette burn as he took in its soul. For a second he felt one with the fatherly orb. His second subsided with the opening of the balcony door. Alexis appeared. "You alright, Bishop?" "Just thinking." She took the seat beside him and admired the light showering them. "Me too. Michael would be proud of you I think. I've been thinking about him a lot this week, tonight especially, and damn, he'd really be happy to see where you're at." "You think?" "It's wrestling. He lived for it." "I'm just trying to forget about the wrestling though. I don't want to think like a wrestler or anything right now. I want to be free of the tagline." "Get lost in that moon then. That thing's something else tonight." "That was the idea," he said taking a sip from the cigarette. His eyes fell in love with the orb again and again. Steele placed his cigarette on a side table and pulled his arms close. "I just want a day where it's all normal and I can breathe easy." "Burdens only exist if you let them. Whatever happens you'll get back up. Michael always used to tell me that it's not what a person does that matters -- it's how they handle the outcome. You've got passion in your palms and pretending it's not there isn't going to make it disappear. Do your thing out there and when the bell rings play it off right." "You're right," he said. The words echoed James's. "I know. Just look at that moon though. It sure is something." "I would give everything up to visit it. Just for a night. Everything." "Make it happen then. You have some weight to pull. I'm sure you could find a way to make it happen." "One day." "Bishop, thanks for setting me straight. I can't tell you how much it means." Bishop reaches his hand to hers and they grab one another. A bridge is formed between the chairs and Maggie smiles. Bishop continues to look up. "People like us have to stick together. Besides, you keep things far less dull." They fell asleep to the swooping cars seven stories below them. The air was chilly but the bright light was enough to counteract it. There were dreams but finally they weren't about wrestling. They were about everything but it. Finally -- Bishop was ready. |
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| Debonair | Feb 26 2010, 07:28 AM Post #16 |
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[align=center]:::The rain poured down over Gotham City... No wait, scratch that this isn’t a comic book jack, this is real life let’s start that again {ach hem.} The rain poured down over New York City, the clouds were a deep, dark grey and the build up inside them was threatening to release a thunderstorm like never before, okay let’s face the fact it’s not going to be like “never before” but I’m pretty certain that you can understand the sentiment, right? Okay, moving along swiftly... A black Mercedes pulls up outside “Tony’s Fine Diner” just behind the warehouse district of Hudson way, a man in a beige trench coat and matching Trilby hat climbs out carrying a bunch of files and hurries inside the diner but not before skidding to a halt when he realises he’s left the drivers side door of a very expensive vehicle wide open in the heart of New York (and probably with the keys inside, too.) He makes his way back to the diner and walks in, shaking his hat off of his head and getting ‘the awkward eye’ from a couple of the waitresses as he appears to be dripping water at an extremely high rate, on the diner floor. He makes an apologetic facial gesture to the head waitress, which appears to her as though he has a muscular disorder in his left cheek, she scoffs and continues pouring coffee into a cup that she clearly understands is two inches to her left, through the help of the cups owners now burning hand. We pan around and see Fred Debonair just clenching his eyes tight shut and shaking his head at the carnage around him as the Trenchcoat Kid sits in the booth opposite him, dropping the files onto the table:::[/align] Debonair – Man Jacob, what have I told you about that shit? You’re always giving people to look at you and cause problems! Jacob – What’re you talking about, man? I don’t ever cause problems... Debonair – Dude, what about the other night when I had to save you outside the nightclub from that moron and his friends because you were “looking at” his girlfriend!? Jacob – HER BOOB WAS COMING OUT OF HER TOP! Debonair – Stop shouting, you idiot! Jacob – {whispering} Her boob was coming out of her top! And... She had toilet tissue stuck to her shoe! Debonair – Okay, but still you didn’t have to look at her like you were gonna go all Rohypnol rapist on the girl! Jacob – Okay, okay... I get the picture. Now are you going to keep making me feel more of a dumbass or are we going to go over what I’ve got here for you? [align=center]:::Fred takes the files, sliding them across the table and almost knocking his cup of coffee off of the table, cursing he picks up the cup, drinks what was left of the contents and drops the cup on the floor as we watch it smash into a million pieces. Looking up at Jacob he shrugs and raises an eyebrow:::[/align] Debonair – What?! I was bound to accidentally do it in five minutes, anyway! Now let’s see here... This is everybody in the invitational? Their strengths and weaknesses, absolutely everything? Jacob – That’s it, although why the hell you couldn’t get Max to go get this stuff for you, is beyond me... He knows SCW better than I do. Debonair – But, he hasn’t got a car has he? The kids still riding around on his old scooter... And I don’t mean one with an engine. Jacob – Yeah, well speaking of the car I need to get it back to my dad he’ll go nuts if he knows I brought it, into the city... [align=center]:::Jacob stands up and he and Fred exchange a handshake before he turns, walks out of the door although not before slipping over the puddle he himself made and gets into the Mercedes, driving off as we fade slowly, into darkness... ~*~*~*~ ...When the scene reopens the sun is now out and we are on the rooftop of Fred Debonair’s New York apartment building which he owns, because he’s rich like that and one of these days he’ll probably get the entire building coated in gold, no I’m talking shit here but that’s just so that you’ll ignore the fact that Fred Debonair is in fact taking a leak over the side of the building as we speak; is he done yet? He is, good we can move on now. Debonair heads toward a sun lounger which is situated in the centre of the building. He lays back in it and picks up the first folder of the pile that Jacob gave him:::[/align] Debonair – Okay so let’s see what we have here, I need to find one of these bio’s that’s not going to make me fall asleep or I’ll get sunburn or something... Ah so, who’s this then? Dillusion? Really now, you’re going to tell me this is the guys name, Dillusion? Okay then well where do I start? I mean I’ve been looking over everybody inch by inch, no Dillusion don’t start getting any visual aids in your head about that, I know you love your visual aids son but that’s not what Fred Debonair’s referring to! I mean I’ve been viewing what my opponents have done prior to this match, what they’re capable of and the only thing I can see about “Dillusion” is that he’s capable of just about, well, nothing! I mean damn the guy didn’t even put up a fight against Jake Starr! But this isn’t about what he did with Starr this is about the Invitational and what he’s possibly capable of, here. I also see this kid’s been a former SCW World Champion well, I almost shit my pants but then I realized at the same time he’d been voted WORST SCW Champ IN HISTORY, and that made me feel a lot better... Apparently Mr. ‘Lusion seems to believe that it’s awesome that he has never lost a match by count-out well Dil, let me set you straight on something, Fred Debonair’s never tapped out, never submitted, never been counted out never been eliminated by the top rope throw-over... In fact Debonair’s NEVER been eliminated; now THAT my friend, is freaking AWESOME! He also seems to believe that pinning Savior and Greg Cherry have been something to shout about as well, heh... Okay? Really? But on a serious level, you make no sense. No really dude, you make NO sense I mean I’m all about gender confusion and gender equality I really am, my girlfriend watches those documentaries on T.V all the time but I’ve never been able to study one in the real world, someone with gender confusion I mean... You talk about women wanting to be men or men wanting to be women, you talk about hatred but then how much you love another man I’m surprised you’ve yet to walk out to the ring wearing a damn dress and some pantyhose but hey, for all I know you’ve probably done it already. And you talk about beating women like it’s a hobby or, like they’ve all got penises, what kind of ‘women’ have you been hanging with, kiddo?!? You’re beginning to scare me and hell not in a “I don’t want to fight him” kind of way, I’m more talking about a “let’s report him to the Police and make him sign the register” kind of way... And what the hell is with this irrelevant story about some chick wanting your invitational spot? Dude, WHO THE HELL CARES!? Wow okay, I’m done with you, boss... Done! [align=center]:::Fred sighs, chucks the folder down on the floor and picks up another one as he sits upright and slides a bottle of his favourite drink, Jack Daniels and a glass from underneath the sun lounger; he pours himself about a quarter of the glass stands up with the folder and heads to what we now realize is a freezer, seriously it’s a freezer, on the roof! Can you believe it? Anyway so he opens the freezer, pulls a couple of ice cubes out of the packet inside and drops them into the glass, reading through the folder as he shuts the freezer again and leans against it, taking a mouthful:::[/align] Debonair – Bishop Steele is the next folder, I hold in my hand... This guy is more my style of athlete. He’s got a very similar background to Fred Debonair and he’s exactly the kind of guy I’d want watching my back in a street fight; what else is there to say? Nothing. I can’t mock this man, I can’t make fun of him like I did with Dillusion because it just wouldn’t put a smile on my face... This kid came from hardship; he came from a travesty and look where he’s at now. Bishop Steele, brother, I respect you completely. So let’s move on, let’s go on to the next wannabe who thinks they’ll be the ones coming out on top, at Two for One this coming weekend. Oh well you can’t have a several person mix and match without the proverbial mystery opponent slash entrant, right? And that’s what we’ve got right here... Someone trying to do exactly what Fred Debonair has done except I’m not hiding behind some facade! Some faux personality! All I’m aware of is apparently this mysterious person has some kind of connection with Tiffany and of course this person is probably making some kind of ‘return’ to either SCW or IWC. In either case it’s old, it’s outdated it’s been done before and it probably won’t work out and will be extremely anticlimactic like the ending to a bad Stallone movie... They’re educated and hell with the kind of roster both these feds hold, I’m guessing it shouldn’t be too difficult to work out who it is to be honest with you... Mr. Or of course perhaps Mrs. Mysterious, you’ve discussed how people would be trying to guess who you are by the little bits of information you’ve been giving of course those smart enough would know that you could actually be lying about your past, trying to throw those who you believe could figure it out, off the scent so to speak... As for me? I don’t give a rat’s ass who you might be, or might not be! I don’t know anybody here in SCW I don’t know anybody in the Cartel so to be quite frank with you it makes no odds, I’m still going to break every bone in your body and send you out of the Invitational; child. [align=center]:::Fred takes another mouthful of the Jack Daniels before picking another file from the floor, he flicks through it slowly with one hand, swirling the alcoholic liquid around inside the glass as we hear the ice clanking against the sides... He stops reading and closes his eyes:::[/align] Debonair – Next up we’ve got Lucas Knight, British kid on the block. How’s it going mate you alright? Sweet as a nut and all that! Don’t worry, Lucas, I’m not ‘taking the piss’ bruvski... I’m just doing my so-called stereotypical impression of a British person. Now, I’ve got nothing against you Lucas, like me you love to put people in their place and I like that about you, you seem like another guy whose side someone would want to be on when they step through those ropes or even if you get caught boning the competitions wife and a brawl ensues... But let’s face facts, you’re about as green as me, when it comes to Supreme Championship Wrestling, boss. You know about as much as these boys and girls as Fred Debonair does and although you’ve already won your debut match here it’s not like you’ve got it all figured out, is it? To be honest if I’d not entered the Underground Invitational I probably would have figured you for the win, kid but as we both know Debonair IS in the Invitational which makes your winning this prestigious event a little less likely, heh in fact it makes it next to impossible. Is Fred Debonair giving himself an ego stroke? Of course he is why shouldn’t he? When you’ve got names like Lucas Knight inside that ring and yet you know damn well you’ve got a better than half-a-chance shot at winning it, even with said Lucas Knight inside the ring, then you’re bound to have an egotistical kick in the groin, right? Exactly! Like me you’ve come into this match with a hunch you could easily walk out with the SCW Underground title over your shoulder because nobody figured you would, or could... We’re two peas in a pod you and me, Knight... The only problem with that is that I don’t do duets, one of us is going to have to remain in the pod whilst the other one goes on, to bigger and better things. And now IWC... Riggs? Is that short for Rigor Mortis?? Because it seems like some of that is setting in Mr. R... You’re the “No-Holds-Barred” champion? I mean what the hell is that, some kind of IWC equivalent to the Underground title? You seem to have a lot more on your mind than just the Underground Invitational Riggs; you’ve got this grand master plan to be taking care of... You’ve got this “Revolution” you’ve been talking about with Suzie and whoever else may actually be willing to open their ears so, why on earth do you think you’re about ready to take on several others at once INCLUDING Fred Debonair!? What in Gods name makes you even contemplate thinking, you might actually stand a chance!? Because you already hold a belt? I’ve done it on many occasions... So, maybe because you’re hiding some massive secret? Heh, again, been done! I’m just trying to fathom what it is about you boy, that makes you so special and right now I cannot come up with one, tinchy little thing! So then moving on, I might have discussed another IWC roster member in Too Magnificent but to Debonair he’s Too Irrelevant to even bother wasting breath on! [align=center]:::Fred finishes the mouthful of J.D left in the glass and places it on the ground next to the sun lounger before picking up, yet another folder, and jogging toward the edge of the building, stopping short on a corner before standing on it and balancing like some copycat David Blaine. He turns his attention to those watching and places his back to the nothing but air behind him, tilting his head back as we fade into absolute darkness... ~*~*~*~ ...When we come to, we find ourselves situated in the middle of Central Park; the sun seems to be going down but still there’s people lazing around, walking dogs, rollerblading through the area and then we spot him, Fred Debonair, dressed in a black pair of jeans, white sneakers and a white hooded top. He’s smoking a Mayfair Superking Cigarette and blowing hoop-rings. Suddenly his cell phone rings and he looks at the caller ID as it reads out “Lizzy calling” he smiles and presses the answer key:::[/align] Debonair – Hey baby, what’s going on? Lizzy – Fred, I’m sorry... Debonair – Sorry? What is it, Liz?[align=center] :::Fred’s face goes a ghost-white as he sits up straight on the bench, the cigarette burning slowly in his left hand whilst the cell phone seems to shudder ever so slightly, in the right. There’s silence on the other end as Lizzy Quinn, Debonair’s girlfriend of two years, collects her thoughts... He clears his throat and repeats the question:::[/align] Debonair – Liz? What’s happened? Lizzy – Macready was asking about you... I had to tell him, where you were. [align=center]:::Gerald Macready or Detective Macready if you were familiar with his role, in the FBI and his station at the New York office. Fred’s last dealings with him had been around eighteen months ago when it was revealed through the adoption agency that Fred’s true father wasn’t killed when he was a child but in fact was none other than Benny McCaughey of the very prominent Hells Kitchen mob “The Westies”. Unfortunately late last year Debonair’s father did pass away from Pneumonia but luckily for him he got to spend a good while with him, beforehand. Fred was never into the whole Mobster scene as he had no idea who his family were, but once he did that quickly changed... Nothing illicit but he now had connections and strong friends and for some reason Macready now wanted to speak to him, again... Fred went back to the phone as something caught his eye:::[/align] Debonair – Yeah, it’s okay baby I see him now with one of his boys, don’t worry you’ve done nothing wrong and neither have I. I’ll be home in a couple of hours okay? [align=center]:::Fred hangs up the phone and takes a draw on his cigarette before smiling politely and genuinely, whilst nodding in Macready’s general direction:::[/align] Debonair – And what can I do for you today, detective? Macready – Don’t worry Fred, you’re not in any bother I just wanted a serious word... Vince DeRossi was gunned down last night, point blank range... Debonair – DeRossi? As in, the Consigliere for the Genovese family? Where the hell did that happen? Macready – Just down by the Hudson docks, around eleven. Debonair – But, that can’t be right I mean I was there... Oh, I get it. Macready – No, no you don’t get it Fred. Yes, we know you were there around that time but the fact is we know you wouldn’t gun someone down, especially in cold blood even if they were having a rivalry with your pops and your family... We just wondered if you’d seen or heard anything? Debonair – Do you not think I’d have at least said I heard something, when it happened Macready? Even IF I still follow the no ratting rule!? I’d have still placed the nine double one and you know I would have, what’s the point man? Was my name mentioned? Macready – . . . Debonair – You’re shitting me!? Someone placed me at the scene of a Genovese family death? Macready – We’ve gotta follow all protocol, Fred. Debonair – Okay, so what now!? I mean we both know I can be placed there, shit I JUST TOLD YOU I was there! I don’t have any other alibi so, technically I’ve now just admitted murder, right? Would I have told you I was there!? Macready – Whoa slow down tiger... Did I hear you say you were at the docks last night, Mr. Debonair? Debonair – Are you playing games, man? Are you me... [align=center]:::Suddenly something clicks, inside Fred’s head and it stops him from repeating what he was about to say:::[/align] Macready – No, I don’t think I heard that... Officer, did you hear Mr. Debonair say absolutely anything about being at the docks last night? Cop – No sir, I did not... In fact I thought he just told us he was at home, watching late night television with his girlfriend, one Miss... Lizzy Quinn I think? Possibly a re-run of Scrubs, or NCIS.[align=center] :::Macready and the officer walk past Fred and Macready pats him slowly on the shoulder as he does so, leaning in a little:::[/align] Macready – Just keep your head down and your ear to the ground, Fred. If my bosses know what I’ve just done they won’t listen to any kind of reasoning... You’ll be done for murder and us both here for aiding and abetting.[align=center] :::Both men walk off, through the other side of Central Park leaving Fred with a hell of a lot to think about as the scene begins to disintegrate once more... ~*~*~*~ ...We open up once more but this time inside the apartment of Fred Debonair’s. He’s sitting silently with Lizzy who has a look of shock and awe on her face; she turns off the television and tilts her head slightly:::[/align] Lizzy - So let me get this straight he was practically, warning you? And, asking for some kind of help? Debonair – Exactly... So if anyone else visits, this is where I was and Detective Macready’s already had my story. I just don’t know what the hell he’s expecting me to do, Liz?? I’ve not spoken with those boys since dads funeral. Lizzy – Well I’ll definitely keep it safe and under my hat or whatever the expression is but I don’t know either Fred. Maybe get back in, with the boys? Find out what’s going on? Debonair – That wise? What with Mercy growing up and all... I mean she spends a lot of time out the front on her own if these guys know I’ve spoken to Macready, ‘family’ or not they won’t fucking play nice. [align=center]:::Fred sighs, closes his eyes and tilts his head back once more before bringing us to the final act of this scene... Much like the play which should never be named in a theatre the witches are coming and so is Debonair... Black we go! ~*~*~*~ ...Wake up sleepy head we’ve not yet finished. Fred Debonair has left his apartment complex altogether, he’s left Central Park and he’s left the rooftops, for now we find him back down by the docks; perhaps hunting for something, a clue maybe? Who knows but what we do know is he’s slightly distracted even though there is a television crew following his every move:::[/align] Debonair – So now do I speak about Thorn? I’m not sure what the story is behind him I’ve heard about dead people, non-dead people, emotional train wrecks and the like but again as I said before... Fred Debonair isn’t here to judge and therefore judging is not what I shall be doing. Much like Bishop Steele, Thorn commands respect and he earns it, from me. I’m not sure what there is to say about the man except it’ll be a fun deal at Two For One, to take him on in that ring, just like it will be taking on everybody else... And another person involved in this match would be young Ms. Stacy Kissinger. And whoa hold the phone here can someone please explain to me something I’ve been overhearing through the grapevine because I can’t quite work out if I heard correctly or if somebody’s just trying to yank my chain. Kissinger and Jay Gold are cousins but they’re also, dating!? Now I’ve heard of keeping it in the family and all that but is this something I’m missing?? Well I guess this Southern Belle’s in for a shocker when she turns up at Two For One and realizes there’s one or two more people than she anticipated in the Invitational and ones who can definitely give her a run, for her money! I’m going to guess Adam Riddick is usually a man of severely no words considering when I found the tape of his latest promo it was billed as self-explained the ‘longest rant’ of his career and I got through it in a matter of minutes, although I won’t lie I did skip a few bits of it. So Riddick another guy on the line Fred Debonair’s riding, after the Invitational he’ll either be the SCW Underground Champion or one of the few ‘comeback superstars’ in the world of Professional Wrestling, much like me... The only difference between the two of us is this seems to be extremely important to Riddick, so important in fact he feels the need to lose sleep over it! It’s a Wrestling match, son it’s not the birth of your new child, it’s not Graduation day hell it’s not even the day of trial; keep your cool, boy it’ll be over in a second and then you can go back to that mediocre existence you’ve been living between the last time you Wrestled and now. You come across like the guy in that film “The Wrestler” you know the one I mean, man? You seem to be this broken shell of yourself going for it one last time! But you seem concerned with the wrong people, now don’t get me wrong I’m not some ‘new blood’ injecting itself into the Wrestling world, I’ve been doing this gig for a decade now but you seem to be concerning yourself over the likes of Dillusion, Savior, Kassie Khane and people that just do not matter right now! Who you really need to think about are those like Debonair who’re in the ring with you for one sole purpose and who actually stand a chance in hell at walking out with the Gold! But be a Vietnam Vet, Riddick; play the game as it should be played, pay the piper and hear the song go out for that all important last shot glory but for Gods sake once it’s all over just sit back and relax a little in life, would ya?? Then we’ve got people like Loki who seem to consider me a “Fob-ish fool” now what in the hell is one of them and why on earth would he consider me one when he has absolutely no clue about me? Oh well, I guess it’s one of those “Live and learn” moments for good ol’ Loki then, eh? And finally there’s Daniel Ackart a man who seems heartbroken over our esteemed Underground Champion herself, Rachel Foxx; a man who seems to be totally in love but yet at the same time bitterly messed up in the head. The guy only seems to worry about her and nobody else and all I can say to that is wow, you’re definitely ruining your shot here, son... Keeping your mind preoccupied over some chick who clearly doesn’t want to be with you? Thinking maybe one day even possibly this weekend, that could all change? Trying to be her savoir and yet knowing damn well it won’t be the case! Hah! God some of you people really do make me laugh... [align=center]:::Fred suddenly stops, he notices something on the ground and slowly picks it up, it’s a shell casing, probably from a forty-five or a nine mil. He looks at it closely between his thumb and forefinger before shoving it inside a pocket and looking back up at those who’re watching, intently:::[/align] Debonair – Many others are walking into this match that have yet to be heard from, on both sides of the fence... People such as Damian Angel, Jessica Raines, Fox Arcane, David Helms, Max Craven and yes even the SCW Underground Champion herself, Rachel Foxx... In fact if memory serves me correctly there are only five names on the ‘official’ entrants list who have spoken up the rest of us are yet to be officially named but oh we’re there! I am in shock that a champion with such a great background like Rachel has neglected to defend her title verbally this past while, let’s just hope she shows up at the Invitational and doesn’t let the title slide on by into another pair of hands without so much as a fight, eh? But, I will say this... Boys and girls, it doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from; whether you’re old-school or some of the new, fresh blood SCW is yet to witness. Fred Debonair is here to put his name back on the map, of course not that it was ever forgotten but I’ve missed kicking ass, in the center of the ring. I’ve missed bloodying people, I’ve missed causing the crowd to rile up in a frenzies of cheers and chants and I’ll tell you guys this for nothing; it will please me to no end to walk out of that match as the new SCW Underground Champion but, it will not kill me if I don’t. So long as I enjoy every little moment inside the squared circle leading up to the final three-count and bell and as long as you at home, enjoy it too... Until Two for One ladies and gents; sleep well! [align=center]:::FADE – TO – BLACK!!:::[/align] |
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| Kassie Khane | Feb 26 2010, 11:45 AM Post #17 |
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Admin and Second in Command of the Nation of Moderation
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**Note: Posting for IWC's Daniel Ackart** Bitter Bloodlust... |
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| Rachel Foxx | Feb 26 2010, 03:38 PM Post #18 |
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The Duchess of Debauchery
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Had a whole lot of fun writing this one, hope you all enjoy the read. [align=center]SIN INC.: Forgiveness[/align] SONGS: "This Life" By Curtis Stigers, "Ain't No Rest For the Wicked" by Cage the Elephant, "John the Revelator" by Curtis Stigers |
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| fullMETAL | Feb 27 2010, 03:30 AM Post #19 |
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Belt Designer and IWC's GFX Tranny
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[align=center]![]() ![]() ![]() [/align] PERSON: Generation NOW – Max Craven PROMO TITLE: Help a Buddy Out MATCH: SCW Underground Championship Underground Invitational PROMO CONTENT: (Promo: & 2-for-1 Special)[align=center] Fade in to Max Craven. Max Craven: Hey Riggs, you know something? I don’t even really see the appeal of the SCW Underground Title, so I’ll be perfectly fine with helping you out. There--simple, direct, and to the point. This match isn’t for an IWC belt, and it’s not even for contendership to one, so I don’t really care. A beat, then… Max Craven: Actually, I was just too busy this past week to care. Besides, it seems like the other people involved here REALLLLLY want that belt…but I just wanna make sure Too Magnificent doesn’t get it. You know, just to fuck with his inappropriately gilded head. A smirk. Max Craven: I don’t see what’s so great about the belt either. I mean, the last time that belt meant ANYTHING was when David Miller, “The Real” Speed, and my best bud Reckless were feuding over it a while back. THOSE 3 took “Underground” and put it ON THE DAMN RADAR with the way they were putting their styles against each other—Miller’s “Pure Fighting” against Speed’s “Extreme Hardcore” against Reckless’s “Old School Violence”. SCW Underground THESE days? *PFFT* It’s like Cartman and Kyle slap-fighting each other in that “Cartoon Wars” episode of South Park. He waves his hand dismissively. Max Craven: There’s no imagination there anymore. No reason for drama there anymore. No actual emotional attachment there anymore. Why would I want me and my Big Stiffy… He produces a green-painted Kendo stick, pointing at it demonstrably. Max Craven: …to be attached to such a boringly and decidedly NON-hardcore Hardcore belt? No, I think I’ll just help Riggs win it. After all, we’re not just the “New” Alpha Generation…we’re Generation NOW. WE’RE the ones bringing WRESTLING back to the IWC, and if I can help it, Riggs is gonna bring HARDCORE back to the SCW Underground Title. And Too Mag’s just gonna have to sit back, TAKE it…and LIKE it. Him, and the rest of the people in this match. The Word of our Id…RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW. FADE TO BLACK. [/align] |
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| Lucas Knight | Feb 27 2010, 07:51 AM Post #20 |
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.Infamous. .British. Legendary.
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2/2 for the invitational, must say this is the most fun i've had in a while writing wise. Though i've always been a fan of matches like these with a lotta opponents. May the best man or woman win ![]() Enjoy. | SCW | IWC: Underground Invitational II | |
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| XdpK | Feb 27 2010, 10:11 AM Post #21 |
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Kills Unicorns
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Dillusion Rp 2 of 2 Hardcore… You think your hardcore? I know I’m hardcore. Do you think you know pain? Pain is on my top friends on face book. Do you bleed for this sport. I have bleed for this sport and loved every second of it. 2 for 1 special the most violent the most brutal men and women in this industry all fighting in a one fall contest for one thing… The title I yearn for more the anything else in this industry. That is the SCW Underground title… Some may see it as the belt for those that cant handle things at the top of this business. People who are either been to the top and now cant handle it or those on they’re way to the top or those who will never make it to the top. I see this title differently I feel about it the same way the Real Speed thought about it. The Underground title signifies that if you are able to hold this title you are better hold your own in the most brutal settings. At least that’s how its suppose to be in concept and how I believe it should be. This isn’t just some insane hardcore match this is where I can finally get back on track this isn’t just about saying alright it’s a match go out there entertain the fans yadda yadda hit some one with jerry yadda yadda make some one bleed throw in a couple DDTS here and there. No this is time for everyone to jump aboard The crazy train as the wizard of oz would say. I am going to make this the most insane extravaganza in the history of the business. Why just make it a cluster fuck lets make the legends of hardcore proud. Lets make all those men that bleed for the name of hardcore proud. Lets make those guys that competed in brutal exploding ring matches proud. Or barbed wire light tube matches. Lets make this not just a lame ass brawl lets make this truly brutal. Lets bleed for that Underground title. Lets show the world that title does mean something. Why just have a lame brawl that people say is the worst match they’ve ever seen when we can give the people some thing to remember. Even if it traumatizes them at least it will leave an impact on they’re psyche. Lets give them something fucked up to talk about in theyre days to come lets show em something really fucked up to keep them awake at night. How is an eleven year old kid going to get to sleep at night with the image of thorn with a light tube sticking out of his left bicep. Or Rachel Foxx’s beautiful face with a dozen thumb tacks sticking out of her forehead now that is fucked up… now that is beautiful. Lets give them something warped and fucked up to remember for the rest of they’re days. Yes yes lets bring on the violence and then turn it up another dozen levels. Cause if I’m going to become the second Supreme champion in SCW history I might as well do it in style. I might as well make it memorable what’s the point if I don’t do it in a way that people will be like. That Dillusion he is one crazy mother fucker… but you know what that match that he became a supreme champion that was awesome. He will go down as one of the most brutal fuckers ever.He took the underground to a new extreme. To a whole other level of violence and it made me puke in my mouth a little. And you know what that will be my proudest moment that will be my shinning moment even better then winning the SCW World heavyweight title. Because I finally earned my place in the divison I belonged to that I have been a part of since my arrival in this company. I have been hardcore I have been extreme. Be it in my bloody wars with Wheeler or Shooting Tj Johnson with a nail gun I am hardcore I am extreme and at the two for one special I get to prove that. I look forward… to this match pacing back and fourth its all I can think of. Its all I can see when I close my eyes. I see the blood of Lucas knight dripping down his brow… sliding down the side of his nose the expression of agony in his eyes. But determination I look forward to doing battle with Lucas knight because he doesn’t seem like some one who will duck out of a fight no matter how brutal it may be going. Lucas I don’t want you to disappoint me I saw your little dark match with Riddick I’m impressed Riddick isn’t some low talent no body he has talent I’ve had wars with that man and you took him to the limit and beat him by count out but still you beat him. You showed some real talent there Lucas and I could trash talk you and bury your skills but what’s the point. There is no point in burying you when beating you will make me look all the better. Beating you will make my becoming The Second Supreme Champion in SCW history more meaningful. See it makes it more special that this isn’t going to be easy it makes it more important that I have to go through a talent like Lucas knight to win the underground title and become a supreme champion. Lucas give it your all give it all you got I want everything. And please don’t think I am being disrespectful when I say I want to crack open your skull. Too Magnificent you came out several weeks ago on Breakdown and started this Entire mess. And apparently your not to good at making friends on your own side of the bridge either. I had a girl begging me for my spot in this match just to get a piece of you. Not to even win this match no she just wants to beat you. And despite that lady being a tiny little thing she has caused you one problem Since I wouldn’t give her my spot in the match. I did say I’d do one thing for that cute young thing. And that is hurt you that is bring you pain be it by wrapping you in barb wire and then preceding to beat you silly with a bat. Or maybe set a table on fire and then t bone suplex you right through that table. You may be big but I know I can get you up there and through that table. I’m persistent what can I say and if I get some money out of something I would have done for free its all good. Then we got the number one Contender for the world heavyweight title Thorn. See thorn is slumming it here. He didn’t have anything else to do at the 2 for 1 special so he signed up for the underground invitational had to get him on the show in some way or form why not put him in the giant violent cluster fuck seems like a good idea in concept. But what management didn’t think of thorn is the injuries you may suffer during this match. During a brutal match like this what if you end up breaking a leg. What if you separate a shoulder then how are you going to fight for the world title at the ppv. Sure you have your ally in David Helms. But in a match like this an ally can quickly turn into an enemy a friend can quickly turn into the guy who just nailed you in the head with a chair. Just a little food for thought Mr. thorn…. Now we got David Helms Thorns partner in the next level…former underground champion so he knows what its like to fight hardcore he knows what its like to fight extreme. Unlike some I look forward to tangling with you more then your number one contender friend sure he may be on a roll since winning that tournament and getting the spiffy title shot. But Helms seems to be the more rougher of the two the more violent of the two. And that is the kind of opponent I look for. David don’t let the hype of your partner make you doubt yourself because I don’t care what he won. He’s just like you or me in this match. But some have drawn a target on your partners back they see him as a major stepping stone they beat him they take him out of this match they prove themselves more worthy for a title shot. Me I am in a contenders match at the ppv for the title I want I lose I still can get a one on one show for the underground title. But if I do win it I’ll give you an inside scoop right here and now I win the title the underground title will be on the line in that four way match. We follow that up with the Current Champion Rachel foxx she has held this title twice and had several wars for it and that earns my respect. Putting some one through glass to retain the underground title that earns respect I don’t care what sex you are or whats under your hood. But Rachel foxx you do have something I want something that I yearn for something that I need to complete my legacy in this company and that is the SCW underground title this will be my first chance at this title and im not going to blow it I am going to leave the 2 for 1 special the underground champion. Because Rachel no matter how hard you fight I will fight that much harder. No matter how much pain you take I will take more no matter how much damage you inflict I will inflict more. And this isn’t because you’re a woman this is because at the end of the day you are a sane rational intelligent woman… While I am nothing but a psychotic vessel of violence… chaos and destruction. You may be the reigning queen of hard core Rachel but I am the worshipper of all things hardcore and in this underground invitational I will show why hardcore is the greats style of all. If not the greatest then easily the most violent and you Rachel you will help not directly its not like you’ll help me win the match or anything no your going to help me by givining it your all by being vicious as possible by shedding the blood of others all over that ring. Be it our other opponents or even my own they’re will be blood and it will be beautiful. There are many people from IWC Scheduled for this match that I have less then no idea who they are. People like Max Craven who is an associate of a former underground champion. The guys suppose to be a porn star or something? Well I thought that game was used by some one in the ninties but if its not broke don’t fix it I guess. And Then there’s the X Class champion fox arcane don’t know who he is don’t really care why should I the X class championship is IWC’s answer to the adrenaline championship and look at the dork that has that at the moment Masquerade who he and his tag team partner have managed to rip off me and some how have more success at least more then I have recently. I mean shock value through the bizarre I was doing that two years ago. Sock puppet jesus I had jerry and numerous other immanent objects that talked to me. So really if that Fox arcane is around the same level then that really doesn’t matter. I even talk to a jobber ninja who no ones willing to talk to. So that may make me a humanitarian or something. Then there’s Bishop Steele the man I faced at the last ppv. He already visited the land of hardcore with me. He knows now what I am capable when given the tools of my trade he knows now that while I may be a little rusty when it comes to standard matches. But we can consider this match breaking even if one of us can pull off the win here. Steele won our first match I won the second of course for me the match that really counts is the hardcore but that’s because its my specialty and because I could really care less about working your standard ring work match now a days. When once I enjoyed submissions and out wrestling my opponents and stacking up the wins one after another that’s become less important what’s more important is competing in the underground division but that being said once you realize what kind of match this is you will realize that my efforts wont be lackluster I wont be mailing in a performance Bishop steele I am in this match to win it and unlike the Olympics there isn’t a silver medal for second place or a bronze for third the only person that leaves this match with any is the winner and that one winner leaves with the most important prize which is the SCW Underground championship. Then there’s the Roboto Corps….The less said the better. Lastly we have Damian Angel my former Ally. Damian the things we could do together… the things we did in the past. How great would it be to be on top of the world lets face it neither of us is at our peak any more but whose to say that its all down hill from here whos to say that we cant turn it around. You claim to be the devil Damian and that’s fine and good but lets face it the devil’s been seeing a lot more L’s in recent times then W’s. But Damian that’s not what matters because Damian despite that I know you are one of the best talents in this company I know this the thing is in recent times you haven’t been properly motivated to tell you the truth neither have I till this match I just didn’t care. But now now I do now together we can unite and raise hell just like we once did. Or as I suggested previously we can just beat the living hell out of one another. I remember the old NBR training sessions you’d beat the living shit out of me so we could motivate ourselves for our matches. We’re the perfect team if you think about it Damian angel. You used to love cracking some random object over my head and I would love the feeling the rush. If only we could get the big man back. If only we could truly raise the hell we once did. Yes if only we could bring the whole band back together… the Blood would truly reign once more. You got to admit it Damian you were a part of other factions but none of them mattered as much none of them were as dominant. I know the end of the Rebellion was my fault I left and I caused the crack that would kill the group. I couldn’t handle losing to cherry so I blew off the SCW. But I have grown I am ready now ready to bring back the blood. If we can bring fourth enough chaos we can get his attention. Damian we can bring back X and then all bets are off we will be the dominant group once more. Think about it Damian… think about the fun we could have. Think about the fun. Then there’s Adam Riddick… Hehe you think its time to prove your brother wrong. Well I’ll tell you what with my goal of becoming Supreme Champion that is not going to happen. I am going to win the underground title at the 2 for 1 special. And if you want to get in my way adam…GOOD. Remember the hate I have you for Adam we never resolved our issues the wounds haven’t healed they only scarred over. You cost me the Adrenaline title 3 years ago. I REMEMBER that I’m not going to just let it go. If you haven’t forgot I’m crazy my mind is like a david lynch film it skips it bounces back and fourth. To you that match where you helped Savior win my title from me that feels like yesterday. That feels like not even a moment has gone by for me. I flash back to it over and over again. Click rewind… play click…dancing midget….fast forward…. Monkeys wearing top hats playing hungry hungry hippos…never doubt the power of hungry hungry hippos im going to play it right before the match its going to pump me up its going to make me unstoppable mr.riddick. I know you think of this as your big chance but its not yours its mine and your not stealing it from me your not taking from me what is destined to mine your not taking the underground title from me. You are one person that I wont just take great joy in beating. In beating you Adam Riddick I will finally have closure for our vendetta our rivalry will be over and it will end at the 2 for 1 special with me standing over your bloody beaten body victorious. With all these people in this match you would think that I’d have the odds against me I mean look at me I am the one in this match that would be considered the veteran Damian and I the only people in this match to have held the world title. So that would point a bull’s-eye on my back and from a strategic point of view I would be a target. I do have the most success here in the SCW while Thorn may be the bigger star that is only momentary depending on if he can become the SCW champion. I have had a tendency to win high pressure matches… of course lose them to which may make me in some peoples eyes an easy target but believe me now I am anything but an easy target I am anything but some one that will just go down with out a fight in this match. Its time to give em a display of violence that will remind them that I am not a side note that I am not irrelevant and that I am not a penguin!...ok no one actually thought that but anyways… The Arena smells like Cigarette’s and pop corn it doesn’t matter I’m not here for the smells… I get into my gear quickly excitement surging through me hard core I am hardcore… I am violence. I tape up my fists with black athletic tape. Its time to feel like the day after a week long bender… --------- --- Regret ------ ----- Ninja helps me walk up to the door I drag my feet the bloods not flowing any more that would be considered a plus by some the rush is over… that’s not a plus. I feel like a mummy wrapped in gause and bandages… I don’t know where this door is going but it looks familiar. Then I realize where he’s taking me I try to tell him no but he’s going on about that time he killed a bear again. It was an entertaining story the first time its annoying still. He knocks on the door and she answers. Epiphany; Ninja…Dillusion what happened to you. I look up at Epiphany she resembles an angel but a very disappointed looking angel. This is why she stopped coming with me to matches she use to walk me to the ring each and every night but she hasn’t since that one match since Greg Cherry… that destroyed it all for me. My black mask is tattered from the earlier battles of the night and wrapped with a heavy layer of gause. Ninja: Dilly here decided entering a death match tournament would be a good idea to enter in preparation for the underground invitational. Epiphany leans forward her hair a beautiful maine of black with streak of red burning through it her eyes an icey blue she touches my cheek her skin so soft yet so warm. I look up at her hazy eyed and smile weakly Epiphany: You didn’t tell him the rule did you. Dillusion; I tried… I whisper my eyelids feeling as if they weighed a ton. Epiphany: Bring him in… your lucky Evan is sleeping or I’d kick you to the curb Dillusion; No you wouldn’t. I respond back I try to walk but Ninja is doing all the work dragging me along. Epiphany sighs but we both no that despite how much she hates seeing me like this she cant say no to me. I’m her vice the bad habit that she can’t kick. Epiphany: You know it would be nice if you came to my doorstep when you weren’t being held together by cheap bandages and having had lost what seems to have been a gallon of blood. It would be nice if you showed up and just said “Epiphany you look beautiful did you do something with you hair” Instead I have to ask “Hey Dillusion you look awful did you do something with your finger oh wait there it is your holding it in a plastic baggy.’ Ninja: To be fair he didn’t lose any limbs this time. Epiphany: Thank god for that. Epiphany says in a sarcastic tone. Motioning for ninja to put me down on the couch which he does. Dillusion: I once ate a whole brick of cheese all by myself. Sometimes I blirt out random things after losing a lot of blood. Alright I do that when I haven’t also. Epiphany; You can go I’ll take care of him. Ninja; You sure you don’t want to make out or something. Epiphany: Ninja… I am going to let that one slide but next time I wont be able to. Ninja; So when do you want to have sex? Without any hesitation Epiphany punches Ninja in the face. Epiphany: I warned you. She took care of me like she always does my sweet angel of salvation. She the one that always brings me from the darkness to the light. I have only been at my best when she was there when she was gone I am only half of who I am. Epiphany; You get out of here go get some food or something I don’t care. Epiphany walks over to a table picking up her purse and opening it taking out several bills she hands them to ninja. Ninja leaves through the door we came through. Epiphany: And you need to reconsider that match. Dillusion: no… not going to give in… I’m hardcore… I say trying to get up but still feeling weak from all the blood I had lost. Epiphany: You have a week till that match at the 2 for 1 special you cant be seriously considering gothing through with that match after how beat up you are. Dillusion: Not beat up… I’m hardcore. Epiphany: Dillusion come on you look like a mummy with how many bandages you got on you cant seriously think this is good. Dillusion: I feel…it in me… I don’t feel pain right now I just feel weak damn body giving out on me…. probably should have thought twice about that barbed wire thing…and the thumb tacks. Epiphany: You do remember what happened with your knee the last time you were in a thumbtack match right Wheeler took out your knee and it still isn’t at 100% it probably will never be at a 100% Dillusion: Don’t worry…. Didn’t want to come here anyways damn ninja brought me here too weak to beat him unconscious. Epiphany; You know what despite being a moron he did the right thing because you don’t take care of your self you don’t care about yourself you care only about proving your self to who? To yourself you lost more then that match to Cherry years ago you lost a part of yourself. Stop risking so much for nothing. Dillusion: Not nothing…. I am going to earn it back….I am going to win it back. Epiphany: What the SCW title come on Dillusion. Dillusion: Not the title I’ve out grown the title… Epiphany; Then what why are you putting your body through this. Dillusion; You don’t see it do you. Epiphany: See what? That you put your body on the line for no reason this what you did for yourself was for no reason. Dillusion; I did it to feel alive. I am in the underground invitational to finally take hold of what I’ve been missing for so long. I only feel like myself in the hardcore setting. I only feel like my self when there is blood. Mine…there’s it doesn’t matter.. do you know what its like to live on year after year but the whole time you feel dead inside. Epiphany: Come on Dillusion its not that bad. Its not like everything is gone now you don’t have to be like this you don’t have to enter this match. Dilluison: YES I do have to enter this I have to enter it and win it. I have to prove myself prove that all the success I once had wasn’t just dumb luck its about time I make a little history. The fact that I cant have the one thing I want the one thing I need the violence the blood it makes up for it. Epiphany: And that is? Dillusion; You know exactly what I…am talking about. Epiphany: We cant… I cant I cant see the man I love get beat to a bloody pulp night in and night out. Dillusion: then I will continue to walk through life as a zombie. All I have when I don’t have you is hardcore. I don’t even care about wrestling any more all I care about is hardcore. It was once that I just needed to wrestle but its like a drug addict moving from marijuana to heroin I cant stop. Epiphany: You think I can just stand by and watch you go through barb wire matches flaming tables and not let it get to me. Dillusion: Its better to have lived then to never had lived at all. Epiphany: Look at you you’re a mess your barely conscious and still we’re fighting its all we’ve ever done is fight you have this idea in your head that the perfect world is you fighting with me standing in your corner but I cant do that. Dillusion: I guess not…just let me pass out and ill be gone before you wake up in the morning. Epiphany slaps me across the face Epiphany: It hurts to see you hurting don’t you see it. Dillusion; Really because I’ve been hurting for the last two years so you must be in agony. Epiphany; Yea well maybe I am did you ever think of that. I look away at the couch Epiphany; Don’t do that don’t look away. Dillusion; This is the brick wall Epiphany we want to be together but you don’t want to see me get hurt. But turning a blind eye doesn’t that hurt just as much? Epiphany; Yes it does. Dillusion; I am nothing with out you please… Epiphany: Do you promise to not do anything stupid? Dillusion; I promise… I regret it I regret punishing her by punishing my body she cringes each time I get hit be it with a ddt or a chair she cares about me so much that’s why she refused to come to the ring anymore with me that is why she left me she didn’t want our son to come into a world where he had to grow up seeing his father being beaten on each and every night now she has a son being raised in a world where he hardly see’s his father. The funny thing with life is no decision is perfect your always going to get hurt and there’s always going to be regret. --------- ------- The Rush -------- ------ Crazy train hits the music pumps through the arena speakers. I make my way to the ring I decided to go with out my trench coat… didn’t thing wearing entrance gear would matter tonight I walk to the ring a bokken in each hand. I had entered into the bloodlust death match tournament that’s what I had blood lust I wanted to have some real death matches. I was against some Kid Dressed as a Robot… I don’t get it I don’t care this is about blood lust… I feel sorry for the kid so I decide to go easy on him. The crowd will hate it they have just as much a bloodlust as I do actually more they want to see some one bleed they want to see some one get hurt. I stare the kid down tilting my head to the side like the killer in one of those horror movies. The crowd is chanting “fuck SCW” I ignore it I know that chances are at the 2 for 1 special I will be in a similar situation only multiplied. The Kid grips the kendo stick and I hold a hand out and with three fingers extended… Free three shots. He doesn’t need anything else he cracks me in the fore head with his kendo stick I don’t budge. He hits me again across the chest it hurts the wood colliding with my chest but the rush far exceeds any brief pain sure there will be marks in the morning sure there will be pain still even when I wake up in the days to come but that’s going to be the least of my worries. He hits me again in the chest and turns around playing to the crowd….Robot dancing on top of the world a shame I have to burst his bubble. I wait for him to turn around and nail him with the culling song. The kids out already I could pin him now but I decide one move isn’t enough. I drop one bokken and then pull the kid up with one hand and then place the bokken I still have in my hand between the kids legs and t bone suplex the kid across the ring. His body convulses on impact. I crawl over him like a predator moving in for the kill I pull the kid by the hair and whisper in his ear ‘its almost over” I then pull the kid up nail him with the sto and transition it quickly into the Koji clutch he’s tapping before the hold is even fully applied. The crowd boo’s me they hate me… I’m main stream I’m the enemy they likely think im just here for the quick cash. They don’t understand the rush I don’t expect them to I pick up my bokkens and walk backstage. Round 1 was easy… I hardly broke a sweat. ------------ --- The meat puppets --------- -------- I made the meat puppets 4 days ago they’re starting to smell a little. But they still look delicious…well may be not. Bruno- Where are the Black berry pies. Lou: Where is the straw berry jam. Bruno: The Oranges are in the attic. Lou: The donkey is mowing the lawn. Bruno: Wine is made from old grapes… I want to make a drink from old potatoes. Lou: Forever is shorter then most people think. ---------- --- The struggle -------- ---- I walk back stage at this bloody festival of violence I entered the blood lust death match tournament as a tune up for the 2 for 1 special as a way to prepare myself for the invitational to prove myself. Not to any one person to prove to my body that I could take hardcore in its purest most realistic form. Main stream hard core aint shit a bunch of morons beating each other with aluminum garbage cans. I needed to see that the underground invitational isn’t hardcore wrestlers… its guys like Adam Riddick who are trying to climb up the ladder they don’t care about this… this hardcore lifestyle they care about titles. I care about hardcore I live for hardcore. I ponder this while a familiar face a face id rather not see appears he pats me on the shoulder and that’s when I look back and truly see him.he smiles at me his teeth a disgusting yellow rigid and rotting this is part of my problem I met this man during my first run in SCW. He’s the reason I was fired during my second run my failed drug test that had me released. People call him stick because he’s skinny and looks like you could break him in two if you tried hard enough. I was finished my second round match a flaming tables match waiting for my name to be called again as I sipped from a water bottle. Stick: Hey Dillusion what are you doing here Dillusion: Practice… Stick: Pretty brutal stuff going on here no? Dillusion; Just the way I like it. Stick: Don’t I know it. So you need a pick me up? Dillusion: No I’m fine. Stick; You sure I saw that table bump you took not so pretty. Dillusion; I’m fine Stick. Stick; A little boast never hurt any one. Dillusion; I got fired from one of your pick me ups if you don’t remember. Stick shakes his head and walks away. He doesn’t see himself responsible for me losing my job that time he see’s it as my fault and in reality it isn’t Sticks fault I bought the pills Stick didn’t make me take them its all about supply and demand but I’m not going to let the pressure get to me I am not going to let the injuries get to me. I will fight through the pain I will beat all that stands in my way and I am going to do it the right way I am going to get it done the way its suppose to be done. ------- ---- Chips ---- ------ We go to a convience store A man stands at behind the counter flipping through a magazine another man walks up to the counter with a bag of chips and places the bag on the counter. Clerk; 3.75 Customer: How can it be 3.75? its 2.50 down the street. Clerk: I don’t make the prices I just work here. Customer; That’s bullshit. Clerk: Are you going to buy the chips or not. Customer; I don’t see why I should pay more when its less down the street. Isnt the customer always right. Clerk; Not our motto sometimes in life things just cost more then you’d like. --------- ---------- Annoyance --------- -------- I pace backstage my finals match will be any moment I need to stay focus I need to keep my eye on the prize I need to do this and win this little tournament to complete my training for the underground invitational. But then my concentration is interrupted. Katelyn Buehler/Parkwood: Thank god I found you. Dillusion: What do you want? Katelyn; Well obviously I was hoping you reconsidered your decision about the underground invitational. Dillusion: You got to be kidding me. I say with a sigh shaking my head. Katelyn: I need to be in this match I need to get my revenge on Too Magnificent. Dillusion: Can’t you just take Joy in the fact that you can see Too Magnificent bloody and beaten. Katelyn; I need your spot see it turns out I could have signed up for the match that you didn’t need to actually receive a physical invitation so cant I just have your spot. Dillusion: Katelyn I am not giving you my spot in this match this is the most important match in my career this is the match where I make history. Katelyn; Can’t you just make history another night and let me make Too Magnificent cry. I can give you how ever much money you want money is not an issue here I just need to make that bastard bleed. Dillusion: No Katelyn… I need this I need this to prove myself and I am not going to give this up.It doesn’t matter what you offer the answer is still going to be no. There is no way in hell I am giving this up this match is too important to me now just leave me alone I got a death match to prepare for. ----- ---------- The Price -------- --------- I had made it to the finals going in my body was already sore but in a good way it felt like I had worked for this. I wanted to prove I could handle the hardcore style. That I could thrive in it that no one else in this match at the 2 for 1 special lived hardcore like I do. I see people in there that just want a stepping stone they don’t deserve this I would rather even Rachel foxx keep the title then this title be some ones stepping stone. But that’s not going to happen at the 2 for 1 special I am going to win the Underground invitational I am going to become the new underground champion. I am going to bring the same respect the same prestige that the Real Speed brought to the belt. The blood lust tournaments talents weren’t the level of the SCW’s it was more surviving the elements of the pure hardcore that it provided. My second round match was a flaming tables match I was able to thrive in the tables environment my opponent an up and comer who relied on a high flying style. I took advantage of his usage of over done flips to take him to the mat with an exploder then I put him through the flaming table with a death valley driver from the top rope…Excessive maybe but it gave the crowd a buzz so in the end that’s what it is about. That’s what its about for any one he gets in one of these rings. The finals were to be the ultimate death match exploding death light tube barbed wire death match…yea…excessive once more. I was excited for this.. A death match a true ultra violent death match. This would be the perfect preparation for the two for one special. My wounds going in nothing few burns on my arm a few cane slashes…it was all nothing. What I didn’t know would it be nothing compared to what I got during the finals. The crowd was starting to liven up to me a little but I still was hearing boo’s and “fuck scw” chants here and there it didn’t matter all I needed was to do this and do what I love and that is hardcore. I strolled out to the ring crazy train blasting on the arena speakers. The lock up led to what was actually a more wrestling start to a death match then I probably had ever seen or be involved in. My opponent and I a well known death match participant from the area a local hero he had the crowd on his side that didn’t bother me. The crowd never bothers me. We then heat things up exchanging uppercuts and elbows neither of us is phased neither of us is backing down. We heat it up with suplex neither of us back down. Then it heats up he is the first to smash a light tube over my back tiny shards of the light tube lodge into my back he takes me to the matt further pushing the tiny glass fragments into my back. This guy isn’t bad he knows how to work these matches he grabs a staple gun from the corner big mistake should have waited till I was more beaten to get out the toys. Half nelson suplex dropping the poor bastard on his neck. I take the staple gun and pull my opponent up by his hair. CLICK CHICKT I plant a staple between his eyes my opponent lets out a scream of pain. I pull a post it thank you note I had wrote from my pocket and staple it to my opponents head. He has a sudden burst of energy he charges at me and I back drop him to the matt he charges at me again this time getting in a clothesline. He then picks me up and ddts me he lucks out and it happens to be where some of the glass from the light tubes were they drive into my mask only a few getting piercing the flesh. I start brushing the glass off my head my mistake my opponent gets enough time to get the staple gun and use it on the top of my head stapling my mask to my head. I shake off the pain but he gets another one off on the top of my head. It hurts but it makes me more angry. He takes a cane from the corner and slams it into my head again and again and again there not hard shots as much as a flurry of quick ones. I remain on my foot swinging a fist at him but he ducks and nails me in the guts with his cane. He hits me again in the back. He then takes me down with a clothesline. I smack the matt in frustration I wasn’t getting nearly as much offense in then I would have liked. He drops a light tube onto the matt and then pile drives me down onto it further shards of glass driving into my head. The mask now doing very little to protect me from the glass that is colliding with my face. My opponent drops a series of elbows on me before picking up the cane and going to work smashing it against my side. I try to shake it off but my opponent wont stop I make my way to one knee he hits me in the shoulders with the kendo stick. I continue to try to regain my footing through the barrage of kendo shots. He goes to the top rope and dives down hitting me square in the head with the cane. I fall back face forward the blood pours down my face I find a smile on my face the blood is like fire to my fuse it lights me up I am back on my feet before I know it I duck the kendo stick shot and I take him to the matt with a spin heel kick. I scoop him up and take him back down with a gut wrench power bomb. And then throw him into the barb wire ropes. He screams in pain I drop kick him in the face as he tries to pull him self out of the barbed wire. That’s when it goes off I forgot all about the exploding ring A small explosion goes off take me off my feet. My arm getting tangled in the barbed wire at the other side of the ring from where I was standing my opponent now finds himself back on his feet stumbling but some how on his feet blood dripping from both of his arms. I reach for a pair of wire cutters left on the ring apron convenient yes must have been my lucky day I’m able to cut the wire off from both ends but a large portion is still wrapped around my arm. I have no more time then this as my opponent drops me to the mat with a one neck breaker. He picks me up once more and drives me to the matt with a jumping pile driver surprisingly this guy knows how to work a body part. I need to regain my composure this could be more brutal just in the tools but the competition is going to be tougher at the 2 for 1 special. My opponent executes a single arm ddt on the arm that’s wrapped in barbed wire damn it hurts. The barbed wire digging into my arm. I hold my arm in pain but it hits me again this is hardcore this is brutality this is what I want this is what hardcore should be. I smile and that’s when the chair hits me in the face. My opponent goes for a cover I forgot there even were pin falls in this match and I quickly kick out. My head is buzzing from the chair shot but its nothing… Nothing more then what I have taken already in this match. He swings the chair at me again I duck and he turns right into a flash back.One arm is useless but I’m back in control. I use the arm wrapped in barbed wire to elbow drop him likely causing myself more damage then my opponent. But that’s the point of hardcore to be brutal to be violent to risk it all for the win. I wait for my opponent to get up and nail him with a huge lariat with the arm wrapped in barbed wire my opponent has blood dripping down his chest now as he crawls to the corner. I step on his ankle and them stomp on his knee. I pull him to his feet my arm is covered in blood. It feels almost dead maybe the clothesline was a bad idea I take him down with a snap mare the only move I could think of that required the usage of only one arm. I decide its time for a flashback to my past I go to one of the corners where I spotted a little black bag earlier and peak inside just what the doctor ordered I open it and pour its contents on the matt thumbtacks… the source of one of the most brutal matches of my career I scope up my opponent taking him to the matt with an STO bam we are both covered in thumb tacks and then I transition it into a koji clutch my opponent tries to fight he tries to squirm but if only causes more thumb tacks to cover his body he finally taps out. A smile hits me this is glorious this is hardcore this is what it should be… this is amazing. This is what violence should be. This is what hardcore should be… why am I falling down… damn it. The effects of the match catch up to me and im out. --------- Inspiration ------- ------- Ninja: This is a horrible idea. Dillusion; No it’s a great idea I enter this tournament I prove that im hardcore and unlike every one else in the underground invitational I deserve the underground title. Ninja; can’t we just go to ihop im sure you can be hardcore by eating a shit load of pancakes. Dillusion: Pancakes wont be enough this time. Ninja; This isn’t going to help you your not going to get her back. Dillusion; Yes I am I am going to prove that I am as good as I once was and by winning the underground title and doing this tournament to. Ninja; I still think that IHOP is a better idea. Dillusion; You’ll see I’ll win this and she’ll take me back. ----- ----- Reality ---- ----- The next morning after the tournament. My body was aching I still had a Few thumbtacks left in my back that ninja couldn’t find. But that wasn’t the realization that hit me. The realization I was getting was I was at Epiphany’s place it wasn’t a dream Ninja had brought me here… he may be an idiot but he knows that she does care for me. I wake up and sit up on the couch. Epiphany; Good your up. Dillusion; So it wasn’t a dream.. Epiphany; Nope… it wasn’t. Dillusion: Are we back together now? Epiphany; I don’t know… Dillusion; Do you want to be? Epiphany: I don’t know do you? Dillusion: More then anything in life you are my inspiration Epiphany my reason for going on. Havednt you noticed when I’m with you good things happen to me when your not around I lose things go bad nothing goes right. Epiphany; What so I’m a rabbits foot to you? Dillusion: No your not a good luck charm to me you’re my reason to exist you’re the best thing in my life with out you I am nothing. I feel like nothing I need you please Epiphany you agreed last night to come with me to the 2 for 1 special if I win… please please manage me again. That’s my inspiration I win this I get you back atleast in my corner. Epiphany: I don’t know its- Dillusion: Epiphany don’t over think it I know I screwed up im not obsessed with this im obsessed with you. And the only way I can express my love for you is in that ring inspire me help me win this match by inspiring me and I will bring home that title I will become the Underground champion I promise you this I will do it for you. Epiphany smiles slightly… Epiphany; Alright… Some one needs to take care of Jerry.But I cant promise anything… we’ll see how things go. At last we were going to be back together at last Epiphany would be mine once more all I needed to do was to win this match to become the underground champion to do what only one man before me had done. Most of all I will prove to the SCW to the IWC and to any one else out there watching that I am Hardcore… -fin- |
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| WAP2PLeader | Feb 27 2010, 10:50 AM Post #22 |
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OOC: Good luck everyone. Graet job to all those who rped. this is gonna be awesome. Sorry for the blue. this forum doesnt have much in the way of colors. Enjoy! Chapter 7: Down Another Road A gentle breeze blew into the room. The sweet, melodious sounds of birds chirping followed. The warmth of the rising sun only added to the beauty of the moment. As Adam Riddick rose from his bed, he breathed it all in. The perfectness of the moment. It was another day. A day that made you happy to be alive. It seemed as though a lot of those days were coming along the Renegade Rocker’s way lately. But, this morning was very special. Something was magical about it. And, on mornings like this, there was just no containing his joy. With a smile on his face and a leap in his step, he flew open the window. The sun hit him with all its radiance and beauty. His eyes were overwhelmed with the abundance of colors the world had to offer him. When the world gave him a day like this, he had to...he had to... ”Oh what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful day!” The Renegade Rocker sang in his perfectly trained baritone voice. ””I’ve got a beautiful feeling...everything’s going my way! Oh what a beautiful day!” As the last E-flat rang from within him, it seemed as if all of Mother Nature was applauding him. The blades of grass were bowing in approval. The beautiful flowers were clapping their leaf hands together. Even the trees were doing a variation of the wave. Truly, a morning like this was so rare in the life of an SCW superstar. ”Good morning, Adam! That was a beautiful E-flat you gave us.” Adam’s eyes, which had been somewhat fixed on the horizon shifted downward ever so slightly, until he beheld his next door neighbour and best friend Ron Lehane. Seeing him waving as he mowed his already perfectly green lawn brought Adam such delight. ”Not as beautiful as this day, Ron.” ”Well, can’t argue with you there. *chuckle chuckle* Hey, are we still on for the annual neighbourhood picnic at your place today?” ”You bet, Ron! I’ve been looking forward to this all month,” Adam said as he disappeared back into the room with a smile. The neighbourhood picnic was one of the best events of the whole year. It was when all the families, with their kids and pets, got together and played games, ate barbeque food, and just had a good time. It was one of those few relaxing moments that Adam could really enjoy. Just thinking about it now, as he threw on his robe and headed downstairs, made his heart race with excitement. ”Phew! I’ve got to calm down or else I may have a heart attack!” Adam said, trying to hide the anxiousness in his voice. ”I know what will fix me right up!” Within a moment he was inside the fridge, reaching for his favourite of all drinks...a Tang. Adam slowly sipped the delicious drink with artificial flavouring as he stepped out onto the front porch. The world was just as beautiful from ground level. ”Hey, Mister Riddick!” Without even looking towards the voice, Adam lifted his hand just in time to catch the perfectly thrown newspaper. Without breaking motion, he flipped the paper under his arm and took another sip of his breakfast. It was then that he saw the future NFL star who had thrown that perfect pass. ”Thanks, Ollie!” Adam said, raising his drink in salute to the young boy who had already started off down the block. Ollie waved back at him, as he pedaled with the speed of Lance Armstrong towards his next target. ”That’s a good boy,” Adam thought. It reminded him of his son, Erik- full of life, ambitious, smarts. He could only hope that Erik grew up to be as talented and well-behaved as Ollie. The sound of his phone ringing broke him from his daydream. Who could dream on a day like this anyway? He dashed towards the phone, determined to pick it up before the second ring. That was only the polite thing to do. He got there just as the first ring ended. ”This is Adam Riddick, how can I help you?” ”Adam!” The voice rang from the receiver. ”Lucas Knight, you old son of a gun you!” Adam responded- genuinely surprised to hear from his newest friend. As SCW’s latest and greatest acquisition, his schedule was usually too full to allow such personal calls. ”What can I do for you, bro?” Adam asked, cheerfully. ”Listen, I know I said I couldn’t make it. But I have the rest of the afternoon off by some cosmic coincidence...apparently Obama just made some new holiday today...Picnic Day! Everything’s closed. Any chance you still got room at that picnic of yours?” ”For you Lucas, anything. I’ll see ya when you get here.” Adam said, hanging up the phone. Picnic Day. God bless the New World! Where else could a man get a day off for a day like Picnic Day? ******************************************* Four hours later... Grill on...check. Mass amounts of snacks and beverages...check. Party favours for the kids...check. ‘Party favours’ for the adults...check. ”I sure hope everyone enjoys their evening as much as the actual event,” Adam said to himself, allowing a dirty thought to slip into his mind for a moment. Balloons for the kids...check. Dart board, pool table, air hockey...check. Satellite with four hundred channels set up facing the outside from the doorway...check. ”That may have been a bit much. Ah, well.” Everything was ready and perfect. All the decorations were up. The steaks, burgers and hot dogs were all cooking. All the drinks had been chilled to perfection. And the guests would be arriving within the hour. Adam smiled and let out a sigh as he collapsed into one of the many lawn chairs that surrounded his backyard. It had been a lot of work, but it was all worth it. The neighbourhood was going to love this. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the wind. And, for a moment, he thought he heard rain. But there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. ”Adam!” Adam quickly opened his eyes. There was no rain. It was like he thought- not a cloud in the sky. Passing off his delusion as mere excitement he quickly bound towards the origin of the sound. ”Hello?” Adam called out as he re-entered the house. ”Hey, Adam...it’s just us.” The voice declared as she walked into view. Adam couldn’t contain his smile at the sight of her. Kassie was gorgeous. She always was. Even with her arms full of groceries. As a true gentleman should, he took the bags from her arms, if only to see her gorgeous smile. And was it worth it! ”That smile could light up the world, you know that?” Kassie chuckled as she stepped up onto her tippy-toes to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. ”You sure left early this morning,” Adam stated as he placed the groceries onto one of the many tables that took up the main floor of his house. ”Of course I did!” Kassie stated, trying to hold back her laughter. ”How else was I supposed to get four hundred some-odd things before your barbeque?” ”Well, where’s the rest of it?” ”Ummmm...excuse me? Don’t mean to be rude, but there is two little kids and a big kid here with their hands full. It’d be nice if certain people would come help them!” ”That would be them,” Kassie said, a chuckle escaping from within her. The two exchanged a quick glance and a smile before they bounded towards the front door. What Adam witnessed when he got there nearly broke his heart. Standing in front of them were his two babies, Erik and Cassie, their little arms full of groceries. Bigger smiles on their faces Adam had not seen before. The expression on the big kid’s face, however, nearly toppled Adam over with laughter. ”That’s right, Adam. Just stand there and laugh as my arm muscled slowly die. Then, the next time you need me to pick up your kids I’ll tell you I can’t ‘cause my arms are dead. And it’ll be all your fault.” Adam wiped a tear from his eye as his laughter slowly subsided. ”Okay, okay...I’m sorry Jason. Thank you for picking up the groceries. I appreciate your sacrifice on this fine Saturday.” ”You better,” Jason said with s smirk, passing the grocery bags over to Adam as he traveled deeper into the house. ”Ya got anything to drink in this place?” Jason asked as he stuck his head into the fridge. Adam quickly gave Kassie a questionable glance. It’s not like he didn’t want his brother there. They were friends, after all. But did he always have to be looking for a drink? A shrug from Kassie offered no insight. So, Adam just dismissed it. So what if Jason had a few drinks? Nothing could ruin this perfect day. ”Oh what a beautiful afternoon! Oh what a beautiful day! I’ve got a beautiful feeling, lots of beers coming my way!” ”Why do you have to change the words to one of my favourite songs?” ”Just to annoy you, Adam.” The two exchanged a chuckle as Jason slung an arm around his big brother. The two walked outside towards to lawn with Kassie and the kids following behind. ********************************* Later that day... The sun was still high in the sky by the time everyone had arrived for the barbeque. Lucas was one of the last to arrive, but he definitely got the warmest reception. The smile hadn’t left his face since he got there. Even now, as he talked with Adam, that smile was still there. ”Luke, you don’t know what it means to me for you to be here for this,” Adam stated, flipping burgers in the process. ”Hey, I’m glad to be here. It’s nice to relax before tomorrow. I’m glad you’re so calm about everything,” Lucas replied. ”Who says I’m calm? I’m just...BURGERS ARE DONE!!” Adam yelled, as he turned the barbeque down and piled the finished patties on a plate, tossing one to Lucas before wiping his hands on his ‘Kiss the Champ’ apron- a gag gift from Kassie and the kids. ”I mean, I’m as nervous as you are. I mean, there’s what? Twenty guys in this invitational? Plus a few girls? Heck, I’m only one man. My odds of winning aren’t that good. But, then again, I’m excited. How many invitationals have we had on Pay Per View that have drummed up this much attention? Let’s face it, Lucas, the Underground Championship needs this publicity. I mean, the world needs to understand just how important this title is to the SCW.” ”I guess you’re right. Just make sure you have that title of yours nice and polished so that it looks good around my waist at the end of it all.” Adam let out a chuckle, as he handed out another burger to the swarm of kids who had piled in front of the barbeque. ”Look good, huh? Well, I don’t know anything that’ll look good on your sourpuss of a face! But, I’m glad you’re so confident. And, hey- maybe you’ll be able to do what no one else has done in three years. Maybe you will ‘knock down the champ’!” Adam stated, doing his best Mister T. Impression...which wasn’t that good. Throwing up his fists, he playfully jabbed at Lucas’ chest. Lucas just chuckled and walked away, as he yelled over his shoulder. ”Wouldn’t want to embarrass you by knocking you out in your own backyard.” Adam shook his head. The newcomer had balls, he’s give him that. That’s why he liked him so much. And what he said did have truth to it. Adam was worried. Heck, there were a lot of talented superstars in this match already. Both from ICW and SCW. Kissinger, even though she was a girl, had made quite the name for herself. She was considered by many to be equal to any male competitor. And, anyone who said otherwise found an eight-inch heel in their face. Knowing the competitors in this match, however, they’d probably be taking her lightly. But, Adam knew beyond the hype that this chick was dangerous and could end his time at the top if he took her lightly. Then, there was Fred Debonair. That guy’s promo had scared the living crap out of Riddick. He sure had a lot to say. At least no one could say that he was short-winded. But, what had made Riddick take notice was that he could back up his words. He had been unsuccessful lately. Even in the matches that he had lost. He always seemed to have this kind of power that made people take notice. Just watching the guy on TV made Riddick’s blood turn cold. When he got in the ring at the invitational, there’s no telling what he would do. He was truly a frightening challenger. And there was no counting out guys like Riggs and Bishop Steele. Those guys were lunatics at best, a loose cannon at worse. There was no telling just what they would try and pull off in the ring. Their promos had made it clear to Riddick that, to some extent, they were both crazy. But then again, aren’t we all? Still, they were two guys who deserved close watching. ”Hey, Riddick. The kids are ready for the potato sack race. I hear Jason might even enter!” ”In that case, we better give him a head start- just to keep it fair.” Adam stated this as he chuckled. But, not because of the idea of his brother in a potato sack. He was chuckling because he had almost forgotten that Lucas would be in the match. I guess Alzheimer’s was starting to show in Riddick’s old age. How could he forget about Lucas? Perhaps the most threatening challenger of the whole group. The man had already beaten Riddick once via count out. And, he could easily do it again. Maybe even by a pinfall or a submission. In a lot of ways, Lucas was a more fitting champion. He was younger, he was stronger, he was infinitely more talented. And he was hungry. Just like Adam was when he first won the title. Adam was not one to be a defeatist. But, the idea of Lucas Knight becoming the new Underground Champion on Sunday didn’t seem to far-fetched for the Renegade Rocker. ”Adam, we need you to come judge this race and to help me get your brother’s potato sack on!” Adam smiled as he looked up at this wife and jogged over to help. His eyes suddenly felt a little heavier as if he was entering a state of euphoria. It didn’t bother him, though. He was just happy to be here with his family and friends. And, if come Sunday he wasn’t the champ, that’d be okay. After all, he had held the belt for over three years now. His eyes closed completely. The sound of rain came back. It was heavier now. ”Three years as the champ. Three years...wait.” ************************************ The sound of thunder echoed through his small apartment. Adam shot straight up, breathing heavily. A cold sweat had settled onto his face. The rain was relentless, pounding against the one window he had. Three years...he was never the Underground Champion for three years! He was in Japan at that time, hiding in fear and embarrassment. And Jason and him were not friends. Lucas Knight wasn’t too fond of him, either. And Kassie was, well, they weren’t that friendly anymore. And he hated Tang!!! Adam let his head fall into his hands. He had been dreaming again. He hated dreaming. The dreams were always better than reality. They made everything more plausible. But here, in his apartment, he was alone. What’s more was that the ease that he felt with the idea of losing to Lucas was gone. The fear was still very real inside him. But now he didn’t have the luxury of a three year reign. He wasn’t a well-known, well-respected champion. In the real world, he was still just a washed-up hack who had returned to SCW only to lose in his first match. And even though he had said that he didn’t care if he won or lost, the fact was he still did. For some reason, this match, this death sentence with all these superstars, had stirred something up inside him. And there was only one way to let that all out. Wiping the sweat off his face, he quickly grabbed his camera and began what would be his last promo before his Pay Per View. *Start Recording* ”Well, here we are. A little over twenty four hours before perhaps the biggest Pay Per View in SCW history. And I’m sitting here in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. Oh, God. *Adam lowered his head into his hands. The cold sweat had returned. Why was he so uptight?* I know none of you think I have a chance. And, lately, I’ve sort of given up on miracles. I mean, I’ve seen some of the promos you all have sent out. Now, I haven’t been able to watch them all. With the amount you all talk I’d be sitting in front of this TV for days. Has anyone ever told you guys that you talk too much? Probably. But, two of you stood out to me. And, if I’m ever going to get any sleep tonight I’ve got to get something off my chest. Hey, it worked last time right? And, unlike you young windbags, I’ll make this quick. How can I insult him by ignoring him? I will not do that. Not to the man who has the potential to be the Underground Champion. It seems like I’m talking about you a lot, Lucas. And, why not? All the fans in the arena on Breakdown know how you beat me. And all the fans around the world know ‘cause you’ve made mention of it so many times. Hey, you have a right to. You feel pride in your victory. But, let me ask you something. You’ve never been to an SCW Pay Per View, have you Lucas? Oh, I’m sure you’ve watched from the seats or you’ve seen it on TV. But, that’s not the same. You see, something happens once you reach a certain level in the SCW. Especially during Pay per views. Because that’s where the magic happens. Do you believe in magic, Lucas? Well, if you were standing on top of a ladder at Rise to Greatness- Faust, Cid and Jay Gold lying on the mat below you, the SCW Heavyweight Championship a mere inch away from your hand, the fans screaming at you, begging you to reach it...if you were there for that moment, you would believe in magic. But, you weren’t. Because you’re still young. And you’re still just a rookie. And no amount of talent in the world can replace experience. When an SCW Pay Per View starts, superstars become more than what they are. They become the stuff that legends are made of. And, I’m one of those legends. I’m no CHBK. I’m no Jay Gold. I’m not even my brother, Jason Zero. But, I’m still an SCW superstar. And, when it comes to Pay Per View matches, I too become something more. So, you go right ahead and keep up the tough talk. Because you’ve never been there. And, nothing I say can explain it to you. But, tomorrow when you sit in the ring with all those fans screaming your name, you’ll realize how different a Pay per View is from a Dark Match. Then we’ll see just how you measure up. I just hope you don’t choke. Believe me, that can destroy a person. Don’t choke, Lucas. Don’t choke. *Riddick slicks back his hair.* Here’s a question- are IWC superstars STILL contracted to not watch SCW promos and results? Well, I hope not. Because if they are then that would make this part of my promo totally pointless. So, I hope you’re watching this Debonair. You’ve been at this for over a decade? How do you stay sane? I mean, really. I’ve been here and there for almost six years and I have my shrink on speed dial. All jokes aside, Fred, I really liked your promo. You seem to have a thorough understanding of how things go in this business. I’m not gonna lie, I was hurt like hell when it first came out earlier last week. I mean, I felt like you were attacking me for a second. But then I watched it over and over again. And I saw something in your eyes that I didn’t catch the first time. Maybe it was my own ego, maybe I just wasn’t looking hard enough. I don’t know. But, what I saw in your eyes was sincerity. You are a no-bull kind of guy. I like that. No one gave you anything and you still made it to the top. But, I would figure after a decade of being in this business you would have learned the most fundamental of all lessons- never assume that you know what your opponent is thinking. You can’t even begin to imagine. Let me tell you. I was kicked out of SCW because of my column known as the Riddick Readout. Since then, I’ve been insulted, disgraced, called ‘the worst SCW superstar of all time’, and called by my own brother ‘a black spot on the family name’. For the last three years I have barely seen my kids. I wasn’t there when they started to walk. I wasn’t there when they said their first words. For the past three years, all because of my own disgraceful actions, because of one wrong decision, I haven’t been able to kiss my wife goodnight. I haven’t been able to hold her when she’s upset. I’ve spent the last one thousand, one hundred, and ninety five days alone. With one objective- getting back to the top of the mountain. Because that is all I have left. So don’t think for one second that you can look at one of my promos and think you know every fucking thing about me. You don’t know shit. *Adam lets out a sigh, trying to breathe out some of the venom in his lungs.* There. I said it. I admitted everything. Are you guys happy? I know you are, Jason. And I’m sure you or someone else who wants to make a mock up of this will spin it. You’ll say I’m lying or crying or being a big baby or something like that. But I don’t give a rat’s ass about you morons. The only people I’m concerning myself with right now are my opponents for the Underground Championship. Out of that group, the one I am looking at the closest is you, Fred. You’ve got it all wrong, Fred. As threatening as the other superstars are, there are only two of them who stand out in my mind. Only two scare the crap out of me. Only two. You’re one of them . You have my undivided attention. You have had it for almost two weeks. You don’t need to tell me that I need to focus on you because you could take away the title. I already know that. I’ve been around long enough to know a champion when I see one. And, you sir, are a champion. Albeit an opinionative champion. But, a champion nonetheless. Well...not yet, anyway. Because, Fred, I am focused on you. I know you will bring something special to this match. But, if you want to walk away with the Underground Championship belt, you’d better bring a better ace in the hole than me. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you don’t. Then, where will all of your words be? Where will all that swagger and all your absolute confidence be when I take out the all-knowing Fred Debonair? Then you can look me in the eye and say to me ‘I understand you, Riddick. I know how you think.’ Because then, you will finally see just what goes on inside a mind that is always on the edge of reason. I’m done. I can’t say anymore. Whatever’s left to be said will be said tomorrow. I’m done.” *End Recording* |
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| DavidHelms | Feb 27 2010, 05:22 PM Post #23 |
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SCW's Dangerous One!
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OOC NOTE: Sorry this is so late, i cancelled my leave of absence over a week ago but didn't forsea the recent events i've been through. Anyway, it's not enough to pick up the win, but i hope you enjoy reading it, as it's gonna help set up some major storylines for the coming weeks. Good luck everyone ![]() ------------------ TWO WEEKS AGO. My head was all over the place as I burst through the double doors leading to the reception area of the Raleigh Medical Centre, knowing full well that I needed to think clearly and logically to help Kathryn but at the same time, not knowing what the hell I should be doing. My lower lip wouldn’t stop quivering and it took me a while before I could keep it steady enough to actually talk to the broad behind the desk. She almost jumped out of her skin as I slammed my hands down on the desk, and I kind of felt bad for startling her but didn’t have the time or the patience to worry about that right now. HELMS: My wife…she…my wife, she’s pregnant…she’s…labour! RECEPTIONIST: Ok sir, you need to calm down right now. Where is she? HELMS: Car, she’s in the car. It’s out front. RECEPTIONIST: Ok, just calm down ok? Without anything else said, she simply pressed a buzzer on the desk and a pair of porters headed out with a wheelchair. I didn’t stop to converse; I mean it wasn’t really the time for chit chat right? I dashed back through the doors and rushed to the car, opening the door to help Kath who’s face was still a picture of agony. I helped her stand, even such a simple task was hard for her and it hurt me just as much to see her in this amount of pain. I felt completely helpless as she sat in the wheelchair that the porters were pushing. They wheeled her away as I grabbed her bag from the backseat and rushed after her. Dashing back through the doors, Kath was nowhere to be seen and I began to panic. My wife, heavily pregnant as she is, wasn’t anywhere near the due date yet here she was, seemingly in labour and I could do diddly squat to help. I smashed my hands down on the desk again but this time the woman behind it was ready, simply sliding a clipboard full of paperwork in front of me and pointing to the seated area over in the corner. HELMS: What the fuck is this!? Where the hell is my wife!? RECEPTIONIST: Sir, that kind of language is not acceptable in this hospital! Your wife is waiting to see the doctor, but you are doing her no good by getting angry and shouting profanities so make your self useful and fill these out…please? I should have gone fuckin’ private…I dragged my ass over to the seats and grabbed some wood. My hands were trembling, it was a miracle that I could even hold the pen never mind fill the paperwork out but somehow I managed it. I almost threw the papers back at the woman who simply pointed at another set of doors which I was half way through before she could even give me directions. Yet another example of my hot headedness getting in the way of things, because I soon became lost in quiet hospital hell. This time though, instead of wandering around aimlessly like my last little trip to the hospital, I simply grabbed the first nurse I could, NO not like that for god sake, and got some directions. It took me all of five minutes to find the room where Kath was, but as I went to enter the room a doctor stepped out and blocked my path. HELMS: What the… DOCTOR: Mr Helms? How can this guy be so calm? Ok, so he’s a doctor and he must deal with this kind of stuff on a daily basis but how does he let it wash over him. Doesn’t it occur to these people that the family must be worried sick!? DOCTOR: Mr Helms, my names Dr Pearson, I’ll be looking after Kathryn… HELMS: Then shouldn’t you be in there Doc? Ok, so maybe I’ve been quite a bit harsh on this guy. He flashed me a reassuring smile then didn’t really do much to put me at ease but at least showed me that he cared. I’ve gotta learn to stop being so snappish I guess, but surely I was allowed to be? In that room, is my family and I’m a family man god dammit! HELMS: I’m sorry doc, I’m just…well, you know… DR PEARSON: It’s perfectly understandable Mr Helms HELMS: Dave, please… DR PEARSON: Ok, Dave. As I was saying, it’s perfectly understandable that you’ll be scared and anxious. But the best thing you can do is just be there for your wife…now, there’s been some complications, but I promise you that I’m gonna do everything I can. It’s not much but I guess it helps to know that these people care, but it didn’t do much to take away the worries, the tension, that twisting sensation in my gut. The doc smiled as he put his hand on my shoulder then walked back into the room where Kath was, leaving me alone to worry in peace. I sagged into a chair and just existed. My mind went completely blank, I felt numb inside. Everything I thought I knew over recent weeks was being stripped from me bit by bit. First I lost my title, and now I might lose my wife or kid or both. Jesus Christ what the fuck is happening to me!? THORN: Dave! I looked up into the face of my best friend Tommy and his wife Kirsten. Tears already in my eyes, this almost tipped me over the edge, the tears steadily flowing down my face. I think I kind of caught Tommy by surprise, he didn’t really seem like he knew what to do. I mean, Me. Crying. In front of him? I guess I wasn’t quite as extreme as I’d been preaching huh? I didn’t even try to pull my self together, it was pointless now wasn’t it, I mean it had already happened. Kirsten sat down in the chair next to me and put her arm round my shoulder, rubbing my back gently. I dried my eyes and took a deep breath before looking at them. KIRSTEN: Johnny called, he said something was wrong? HELMS: There’s complications but don’t ask me what, no one’s telling me shit. I seem to be getting fobbed out with a reassuring smile instead… I noticed Kirst glance at Tommy with a worried look on her face, I don’t think I was meant to see it but I did. Tommy sat on the seat next to me and lightly punched me on the arm. I guess if I looked at it from his view, this was a pretty weird situation, I mean, I’ve known Tommy a while now and this is the first time he’s seen me like this. If I didn’t have bigger things on my mind I’d probably be embarrassed but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that important was it? THORN: Dude, if you wanna talk about HELMS: I’m good…I’m just, I mean what if… THORN: It’s gonna be ok man, the doctors will do everything humanly possible… As I started to think Tommy was right, a buzzer started going off from in the room and before I’d even jumped from my seat, a nurse in the room drew the blinds shut so that I couldn’t see a thing inside. The doors leading to the ward burst open and two more guys dressed head to toe in scrubs dashed through and ran straight into the room where Kath was. I tried to force my way inside after them but was banished by some bitch of a nurse who wouldn’t even talk to me. I hammered on the door, desperate to know what the hell was going on but no one paid me any attention what so ever. And why should they, it was only my fuckin’ wife in there. I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned my back to the wall and slid down it slowly till my head rest in my hands. The tears were in full flow again; I knew something was seriously wrong. Tommy and Kirst were sat holding hands as for the first time in a very, very long time I found my self doing something I thought I would never do again: I started to pray! -------------------------------------------------------- Rachel “Suicide Queen” Foxx…Ya know, maybe I should have come to terms with losing my title to you and just moved on. Maybe I should have gone all out in the number one contender tourney for the world title instead. Maybe I should just forget you even exist Rach. Heaven knows, I’ve faced you in that ring too many times already but you see, I guess that just isn’t my style Rachy. No, when I set my mind on something I don’t give up until I do what I say I’m gonna do. But recently, I’ve began to question just what it is that drives YOU on Rach. Is it power? Do you wanna be the little psycho hose beast who holds all the titles and all the power over the company? Maybe havin’ such a stranglehold over Dogface’s testicles has made you a little power mad? Is it the pride? Nah, I can’t even contemplate that one, I mean, anyone who enjoys taking little Alex to bed can’t hold pride that high in her esteem. You know what I think it is Rachel? I think what you really, truly want is the love and adoration of those fans that attend each and every event. What you want more than anything else is to hear those fans shout out “SHE’S HARDCORE, SHE’S HARDCORE”. Well let me shatter that dream Rach, because those fans don’t give a flying fuck about you! They don’t care about anyone, as long as people get hurt! Yeah they might cheer or boo like a little fuckin’ pantomime Rachy but does that really mean they give a shit? And that’s the difference between us Rach, because for all your showboating and boasting about removing various body parts from my person, we both know that deep down you really just want those people to love you and so you push yourself further than some people will to try and achieve that. Me? I do the same for the FUN of it Rachel. I don’t throw my self around that ring to get people to love me, I do it because I fuckin’ enjoy it! That’s right Rach, I like the pain! I love the suffering! It doesn’t matter what anyone does to me, because the more someone makes me hurt, the more energy it gives me! You see Rach, I’ve been there, I’ve done it all before and while you’re still trying to make a name and separate yourself from the rest of your sisters, I’ve been breaking people and winning titles. I’ve won the equivalent of the hardcore title in every single company that I’ve been in and I’ve also had my fair share of World Heavyweight titles too and although the past counts for diddlysquat in SCW, it shows that I’m not just some little bitch like you seem to want to portray me as. But enough is enough Rach, all the name calling and all the mind games are done with. No, all I want to do is ask you a simple question Rachel. Are you really ready to go into that ring with someone who doesn’t care anymore? Can you really say that you are ready to take your own body far beyond the limit to ensure you pick up the victory? Are you ready to take on someone as fuckin’ SICK IN THE HEAD AS ME!? That’s all there is to say Rach, just make sure you’re ready because I sure fuckin’ will be…BANG! ------------------------------------------------------ In the private room of the delivery ward, the machines monitoring the heartbeat of little baby Helms are going crazy, lights flashing like a nineteen eighties disco. As the father to be panics outside the closed room, the three doctors and four nurses are dashing around like headless chickens, flitting from machine to machine, taking readings and playing around with various drugs being pumped into Kathryn Helms on the bed. As yet another machine begins to beep at the Hospital staff in attendance, one of the nurses places a scanner against Kath’s stomach revealing little baby Helms on one of the monitors next to the bed. DR PEARSON: The umbilical chord seems to be twisted around the baby’s neck, there’s a chance that it might untangle naturally but I’m of the opinion that a caesarean is the best option! DR KEEN: Do we have power to make the decision thought Ashely? As the doctors trade glances, one of the nurses not immediately involved with what’s going on picks up the small pile of paperwork that Dave had to fill in earlier in the night. Leafing through the first couple of pages before finding what she was looking for the nurse eventually spins round, hammering a finger on the clip board. DR PEARSON: It seems we do indeed Phil. So, care to lead or do I get to be Master Surgeon today? DR KEEN: Be my guest sir… As the debate is clearly over, Dr Pearson picks up a scalpel from the instrument tray and holds it in his hand, the surgical knife glistening under the glare of the lights more fitting of a Hollywood movie set than a hospital delivery room. Using a marker, one of the nurses marks a line across the bulging stomach of the beautifully round mother as the Doc prepares to make the cut that will bring much happiness but also forever ruin Kathryn’s pride at her beautifully toned stomach. Fade To Black ------------------------------------------------------ This match is exactly the kind of match I thrive in. A clusterfuck would be a nice way of describing the seven circles of hell that we are going to find ourselves in very, very soon. And like some of the people in this match, I too couldn’t be happier. I’ve already wasted enough time rattling on about that skank bag Rachel Foxx so I don’t feel there’s anymore to say about her. I think we all know to expect not to see her holding that title by the end of the match but the real question is, just who will? The real question is, should I really be singling out anyone at all? I’m a match that will be so brutal, so intense and bloody, is there absolutely any point in commenting on strengths, weaknesses, rights or wrongs? No amount of skill will be able to bring you through this match, it doesn’t come down to any one man or woman’s ability in that ring, instead there is only one deciding factor…Lady luck! You see, I could make any amount of claims about being the best. I could way lyrical about how the recent events of my life have started me on a downward spiral and that I am one step short of craving the sweet moment where I bust people wide open in that ring. I could flap my gums constantly like Lucas Knight seems to enjoy doing, talking about things that are far above his damn station, mocking other people in the match just to try and score cheap points over everyone else but instead of putting my future in the hands of fate. And although John Connor would have us believe that there’s no fate but what me make for ourselves, at the end of the day, there’s nothing we can do to change what happens in this match and I find myself able to see that, which may or may not give me an advantage in this match!? Rivalries are all around in this match, myself and Foxxy, Tommy and Miss Kissingah, hell even me and Kissingah when you look at the bigger picture. But I think those rivalries are gonna mean absolutely diddly fuckin’ squat when the bell rings as the prize worth most at the end of the night is the Underground Title, a title I held until recently when I dropped the ball a few weeks back. Does that give me even more of an advantage tomorrow night? Who knows, once again we’re just gonna have to wait and see aren’t we!? I’ve questioned my own desire, my own drive and motivation over the past few nights. Some would say I’ve drifted off the path that was becoming rather fruitful for me, lost my way a little and am suffering because of that. And if I’m completely honest, I wouldn’t even try and disagree with that. I haven’t felt this low since retiring from the business years back. It feels like the fire in my stomach has been put out, dampened by events out of my control. And I have to ask myself whether I’m getting too old for this, whether I should be worrying more about my family and my new baby son, Jason. And once again, I know the answer is yes and that makes me both a bad father and a bad husband for continuing to live this lie where I try and claw at the shreds of my former glory. But then the larger, more dominant side of my personality that rules my choices in life pipes up and says fuck that! The part of my psyche that is arrogant, ignorant to the truth and completely and totally screwed up, the part of me that has kept me going through the ups and downs. Although my mind is telling me to re-evaluate, I know I won’t do it. Instead I’m just gonna drop deeper and deeper into this psychotic behaviour until eventually it is all that is left. Why fight that? Why try and burry something which drives you on? The fire to be the best is gone, I admit that, but the desire to hurt people, to hurt my self, to cause complete and utter fuckin’ chaos? That is definitely still there! Who am I? I am David Helms! Do I think I will win this match and become the Underground champion again? Not really, no. But do I think I will make my presence felt to both my opponents and the management of both companies? Damn fuckin’ RIGHT I will. Tomorrow night is gonna be fucked up, I will make sure of it. You wanna try and batter me down with wise ass comments, mocking what I’ve done in this company? Go ahead my friend, I couldn’t care less. I know deep down that I have made an impact on this company and although I may not be fighting for the world title week in week out, I know that people see my name on the match lists and they worry. Maybe not worry that they have to face me, but they certainly worry about what they’d have to do just to beat me! What do you do to stop someone who doesn’t know how to give up…So continue to mock me, continue to brag about me being a has been already when I’ve only been here two minutes. Do whatever the fuck you want, just don’t be surprised when I’m kicking a chair into your model-like good looks and taking you for a pleasant trip down Helms street! And that my friends, isn’t something that is left to luck, THAT is a promise. BANG BANG! |
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| Thomas Valentine | Feb 27 2010, 06:32 PM Post #24 |
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Hero No More
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OOC: Not entirely what I wanted to do for this one, but I have been worn out lately so this will have to do, it turned out better than I thought. Enjoy and good luck to all The Following was posted to SCW Headquarters regarding the Underground Invitational, and one of it’s participants. Thorn. As the footage starts to roll, we see Thorn sat on a chair looking at the camera. At first he says nothing, but then he smiles and starts to talk in a conversational tone as if the camera could very well talk back to him. Thorn: So erm…hey Stacy, you know me right? The guy that won the tournament you are a tad bit pissy about getting eliminated from? Just thought I would say a howdy or whatever salute you can understand from inside that big ol’ bubble of yours because the truth of the matter is that I saw you coming Stacy. Yeah, a bit cryptic but allow me to elaborate, it shouldn’t take long then I can get onto the meat and bones of this thing rather than focus on you…sorry sweetheart it’s just how it is… You say I didn’t expect you to toss your name into the hat? I knew you would, for the simple reason that despite getting your ass handed to you by yours truly not once…but twice now, you still have this imaginative belief that I am nothing and you are some form of Deity. You should have skipped the lunch break from concentrating on that tag match because let’s be honest, like em or loath em, Karnivale are going to annihilate you and your big boned buddy in that match along with his manager whatever the hell his name is, no you love getting your fingers into all the pies you can get your greedy little mitts on, so besides wanting to prove you are better than me, when statistically it is blatantly the opposite…you just couldn’t bare the thought of people not seeing you on the screen if you can help it. An admirable thought of course but in a match like this one, it may not have been such a sharp idea, but from what I see, you ARE the brains of the outfit where Infection are concerned so you must know what you are doing even if it’s like sending a gerbil in to take out a whole unit of Afghan insurgents on it’s own…but hey when you are like the rest of us in this match, NO exceptions, bloody, bruised and broken…don’t say that Uncle Thorn didn’t advise against this course of action…’kay? Oh and FYI, David Helms is sixteen times the person you will ever be…just saying… He stretches back on the chair and yawns before rubbing his hands together. Thorn: Damn it’s cold in here! Anyhow, moving on…Debonair…it’s nice to see that you have gained some random knowledge of the ins and outs of my personal life, but what you should be concentrating on is not what I normally have for breakfast, but what I am potentially capable of in that ring where pretty much anything can happen like in the storied feud between The Next Level and Rachel Mollusc and Dogface…gripping stuff, you should give it a look then come back after with a more learned approach to myself…if you want of course, I mean I am not going to complain about another person that is ignorant to myself and what I can and can’t do in Underground Rules…it would only make it easier for me to overcome everyone in my way, other than that, I truly wish you luck as you seem to be one of the few people in this match that deals with realism as opposed to random stuff that flies into their head… He smirks Thorn: and speaking of things randomly flying into heads… Our esteemed soon to be ex champion if things go the way of the Social Misfits…Rachel Foxx, all jokes aside the sad thing is that I can’t deny the ring of truth in your words, you are always up for it…a fight I mean…stop chuckling David, this is serious! Yes, you are ready to throw down at a moments notice…if you can’t get Alex to step in for you that is…what I would say now may shock some, but I have been mulling this over for a few days now and I would like to point out now that in the event that the title doesn’t come back to us in it’s rightful place, I would be glad you retained for two reasons. One…David gets another shake at kicking your ass without the stipulation that saved your hide the last time around…and two, the title stays where it belongs on SCW and doesn’t get carted across to IWC…yeah the pride of my brand is now blood deep, so I would take someone I have bested on a couple of occasions now, to retain than let a numb nuts like Riggs to take it from us… It’s ironic that the only person you have a what did you call it…smidgeon…of respect for, is also a person who believes themselves to be superior to everyone else despite having more than one decisive loss against a few of them, myself included…then again you people that lack the comprehension of such things need to stick together right? I mean you call ME the psychopath Rachey? Because I have bust my ass to scramble to the top of the heap to face off against Jake, because he will have the title however it comes about…talk about the pot calling the kettle...then again it must have been a humbling experience to try and get one over me in that match as many times as I have beat you one on one, and each time been stopped dead in your tracks…but you failed to mention anything about that little episode in your enlightening speech that had me almost bawling my eyes out and applauding by the end…such inspiration! Thorn shakes his head, confirming that his last statement wasn’t sincere, truth being told he had seemingly heard everything anyone in the match could throw at him, yet they just dressed it up and changed a few words before saying it again, so it came as no surprise that the woman everyone was looking to beat…a bitter ex included, would do the exact same thing then imply he was talentless. Thorn: Max Craven…erm well he does seem like one of those guys that used to get picked last in softball due to not being any good at it, so now he has grown up and shown a bit of potential, decided it was time he threw the pacifier from the pram and whine about how this match isn’t for an IWC belt…geez my three month old daughter shows more integrity, I mean seriously, no one held a gun to your head and told you to sign up for this thing, you do realise that don’t you? Or do you have a little bromance fantasy playing in your head with Riggs so you thought you would throw your name in so that he sees something more than the moron you apparently are for signing up in the first place if you weren’t interested in the belt…anyway, on to people that matter a little more to me on the eve of my showing you all despite so many others saying it, that my wrestling background damn well started in matches like this…but yeah… He shrugs before taking another breath. Thorn: Lucas Knight…bruv…by all means discount David for his knack of ah…what is that phrase again…oh yes, having a life and family to think about before satisfying your urge to simply rehash what you have said since you got here, and throw his name in there…I’ll be ready to smile at you if I am at all capable when he destroys you…I’m sure you had friends at some point in your life Lucas, and correct me if I am wrong, but you look out for them and in such instances as this, defend them against people like you that think they are going to walk into this match with an aura around them and is going to walk out as fresh as he came into the match because of said aura…then again, now we are talking about him and his paltry three months of title holding…up to now, how many times have you held that title and for how long for, title defences and such? …………………… Yep, you guessed it…zilcho buddy, so I know it’s a hard thing for you to do already, but why don’t you think about these things before you set that mouth that is bigger than Justin Davis’ somehow, into motion and try to belittle my simple favour of telling you to not count out a man that is more deserving of that title than anyone else in this match, myself included…and oh yeah surprise surprise…you believe I should be thankful for you “showing respect” to me if that’s what you call it…I don’t want or need it pal, I have done perfectly fine so far with the legion of generic copies of you we have in SCW already so then when that tactic failed you resorted to name calling…original yeah…you don’t care what happens to you in this match? You encourage people to do the kinds of things you were all but claiming wouldn’t happen in the last episode of Lucas‘ Playhouse? You may also want to try a bit of linearity too but hey…my word’s not Gospel, you go thinking you are bang to rights for jumping all over the place and see what it gets you, myself on the other hand…I’m gonna stick to what I believe rather than having a knee jerk reaction when I say something you don’t like. Do you realise how many people have issued empty threats such as yours about how fortunate I should feel that you didn’t join earlier after the beating you think you personally are going to issue… Given half the chance I am going to make you wish you didn’t join, period buddy, so why don’t you think about that one for a second and think about what I have done so far against the odds and then maybe it would make sense for you to put your mouth in gear and say what I can and can‘t do etcetera etcetera… You won’t listen but hey, a guy can only try, all this coming ironically from a man that says to back up your shit with facts…oh yeah that’s right Mr Fifteen Time Grand Slam World Champion…I forgot who I was dealing with there for a few seconds…my bad…and on parting…however many times you use the word “crack monkey” in your promo bruv…it doesn’t make you any more of as threat to anyone in this match, Too Mag included… He clenches his fists, the fact that the majority of the competitors in the match were believing the same kind of shit Lucas did was sad. but the chances were good that he didn’t manage to win and he knew what he had to do until that scenario came to pass, do his best to make sure that the people who talked themselves up at his expense, were taken out of the equation if he could help it. Thorn: Dillusion…No, I can’t do it…I can’t trawl through the nonsense you put out and tell you in how many ways you are wrong about me…unless you are the Professor of Thomas Valentine Studies like Lucas seems to think he is of course…I’m glad that someone is thinking of David as a threat though, it might just save you a few blushes, but in that same breath, I suppose I better tell you as well that I’m not going to be just stood around waiting for my moment to strike, allowing everyone to walk over me like I wasn’t there in the meantime…just remember that…and Dill Pickle, if I win this match…well sorry dude but you won’t be on top of my list for title defences, so you better make this one count fella. He smiles a little to himself, allowing the thought that he was taking Dillusion seriously, at least where his in ring abilities were concerned as a sign that he hadn’t gone down the self absorbed route that Lucas and an abundance of others had gone down…it was definitely a relief. Thorn: David…I’m getting a little bored now so I am gonna wrap this up in a few yeah? But before I do…David, you Bishop and I, we are going to put on a clinic in this match and I think you summed it up with saying about lady luck dude, but I seem to get a good feeling that lady luck will be shining in our court at the Pay Per View, that by the end of the blatant massacre that is going to happen, that it will be either Thorn, David Helms despite your reservations, or Bishop Steele that walk out...or are even stretchered out if that gets scuppered due to someone’s leg being broken as to quote Dill Pickle. I will end this by sincerely hoping that by the end of this thing, the people that hadn’t a clue about anything…not mentioning no names of course, will be ready to eat their words along with a steel chair or three they were force fed during the match; by the end of this. Cut the feed pal. Thorn waves at the camera for a few moments before it cuts to black |
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| Master Roboto | Feb 27 2010, 06:54 PM Post #25 |
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Advanced Member
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OOC: I have had to do a lot this week so I am sorry this is last minute. I wanted to put something else up just to get the new image of Loki off the ground. Great turnout all. Well, the grand moment has come. I feel like Leonardo Da Vinci when he unveiled the Mona Lisa to his patron… or the guy who made the Stanley Cup. Never before as SCW seen such a work of abstract art. This masterpiece has a name. I won’t make a long winded speech trying to sound sophisticated when in reality all I am doing is stalling. That’s for men who can’t seem to ever stop talking… like the man named Dillusion, or the equally painted fool, Riggs. Such men cannot ever seem to close their yaps and listen. As I said, my masterpiece has a name. It’s Retro, Sketch Retro. What a name, right? Remember it, because it’s going to mean big things in SCW. It’s going to be the start of a new trend. The boy that was once Loki has grown up under my tutelage into the next Underground Champion of the SCW, Sketch Retro. Gone are his old dreams of being Adrenaline champion, because, in truth, the Adrenaline title isn’t where the party is at. A masked clown parading around like a fool is what constitutes adrenaline these days? I think not. Underground… weapons, chaotic, free from the restrictions of conventional rules of warfare. A perfect place to unleash someone with style and flair. That’s what the underground needs. A heavy dose of savoir-faire if you know what I mean. That’s what Retro is going to bring to SCW, and so much more. Sure you can laugh right now as I say that. But let me point out to you that Master Roboto KNOWS talent. So far, not one of my clients has ever been defeated. Never pinned, submitted, or counted out. Now… the time has come for one of my clients to wear some championship gold around their waist. Seeing as I know only have one client, I guess that means that it is time for Sketch Retro to become an SCW Champion… And if you have been listening, we already know where we are going to send him. We are going to rule the Underground. ================== ===================== ‘Ok guys, a little hustle here, Sketch is going to be here at any moment! We are going to get this in one take or there are going to be a lot of people unemployed here very soon.’ Master Roboto shouted orders from the center of the studio while hired hands ran around almost in a frenzy. They were setting up lights, sets, props, everything. Roboto had devised this promo himself, and he would be damned if it wasn’t perfect. Sketch Retro, his client, the man formerly known as Loki, was on his way as he watched his workers move. He wasn’t going to wait long, because Loki hated promos. He thought they were dumb when he didn’t know any better and now that he did know, he thought they were just plain pathetic. He had once said to his manager that any one who felt it necessary to put together elaborate chances to go on endless tirades about their own image of self worth. Roboto could see his protégé’s point but at the same time, Retro had not yet learned the importance of intimidation on an opponent. He would though in time. It was just going to take a little time. The door opened and, almost right on cue, the protégé walked in. Sketch Retro wore a black and white almost mafia like suit with splats of bright paint splattered all over it. His hair was styles in its rainbow myriad of color. No one snickered as he walked towards his mentor slowly, his head cast slightly downward and his eyes hidden amogst a pair of retro like shades. As he came face to face with Master Roboto, he ran a hand through his unique hair. The Rainbow Flared Daredevil looked around the set that was being constructed before him. It was almost done so Roboto figured he wouldn’t get in a tizzy about it. ‘So… this is it?’ he said almost dead pan. His master nodded, his face, his expression, hidden, submerged underneath the mask that made him famous. ‘Indeed’, he said. Retro only nodded and walked over to the nearest set of hangers. He took off his jacket, revealing his under shirt, a black leather vest that completely covered neck, torso and shoulders. It too was splattered with bright colored paint. It made Roboto thing of the man who was called the ‘Painted Warrior’ in IWC, Riggs. Riggs was no warrior. He was anything but. He had done nothing but lose… in fact losing was the only thing he did consistently, since everything else was like spinning a wheel and seeing where you landed. In fact, Roboto had been thinking about starting a crusade against Riggs over the right to call himself the ‘Painted Warrior’. Retro would become deserving of that name. Of course, there was someone else in the SCW that also bore a striking resemblance to Riggs. That was Dillusion. It was like the two were cut from the same cloth. In fact, painted faces were becoming more and more popular as time went on. Riggs, Dillusion, Karnivale, and of course the man once known as Jason Wheeler. It was a damn epidemic starting. But only Retro would prove to be worthy of the name ‘The Painted Warrior’. Roboto thought about that while Retro waited by the wall for everything to be ready. There were a few people that Roboto wanted his client to target, but there was one that Retro was going to target no matter what, and no matter how long it took. That was Chris Lawler. He was the man who had put Loki on the shelf last time, and costed him his SCW Contract. It had broken the boy’s spirit. He had clung on to being Loki a little while longer but it was only a matter of time before the innocence in the boy died away. Lawler was to blame for that, but Retro sought SCW’s lovable loser for a different reason. He wanted Lawler on the shelf. He wanted to injure Lawler beyond belief so that he had to sit there and watch his attacker on television every week. That would destroy him, just like it had destroyed Loki. Retro would get what he wanted too, if Roboto had anything to say about it. Of course, he did. He always did. ‘Um sir?’ the voice of a worker caused Roboto to turn. ‘We are ready sir.’ ‘Excellent. You have all the cues ready. I don’t want a single thing going wrong. You understand?’ ‘Yes sir. Our best guy is ready. Just as you requested, we followed your script to the letter.’ Roboto looked over to his client, chewing a stick of gum and playing with his yo-yo. He blew a big bubble while trying to walk the dog. It was a nice touch, and Roboto wished that he thought of it himself. He turned back to the worker. ‘Very good’ he said. ‘Get ready to shoot. Hey! Sketch! Get over here.’ Retro pulled up his toy and put it in his pocket before shooting out the gum from his mouth. Where it landed, he didn’t even look. When he got to Roboto, the masked manager guided him to a slab of metal about 2 feet off the ground. ‘You lie on this slab here and don’t move or say anything till I pull this sheet off. Understand?’ ‘Yeah, I guess. What do I need to be under a sheet for, though? What exactly are we doing?’ Roboto gave a pat on his client’s shoulder, helping him onto the slab and putting a white cloth over him. ‘We’re bringing some color to an otherwise dull pay per view turnout.’ === ================================= The camera opens to a creepy looking window looking out to a loud storm that screams thunder and lightning. The rain falls like rapid machine gun fire from outside. Of course, the large castle is safe from such things. The camera looks down from above as we see the scene. Everything is in Black and White and none other than the Masked Manager, Master Roboto, is pacing back and forth among many different tables that have test tubes, bottles, and other scientific instruments filled with different colored chemicals. ‘It is time, SCW. The time has come for us to bring color to an otherwise dull pay per view. The time has come for SCW to get a real taste of style. It has taken me long, but I have finally created the PERFECT superstar. One that will leave the rest of the competition slack jawed and helpless in its wake. We are ready for the final stage of my experiment. The last ingredients must be mixed in… TO THE SWITCHES!’ He runs over to the biggest granddaddy of all switches and flips it. The room roars to life as the chemicals travel through interconnected tubes that circle, twist and wind through the room. While he watches them, Roboto keeps talking. ‘There was a time back in SCW when a team called Black and White were heralded as legendary. Now that team is long since gone, but, in truth, such blandness is still celebrated. You have a Black Cat who is now the White Wolf of the West. You have a black and white painted tag team. You have a bounty hunter who paints his face in the blandest of colors. This is what SCW has always been! Never one to draw outside the lines, even in its underground division. What do we need? We need MORE! WE NEED… NEW! WE NEED… COLOR!’ He looks to the slab in the middle of the room that holds something underneath a white cloth. The tubes are pooling the multi colored chemicals into whatever is under it and the entity is shaking like a rattlesnake’s tail. ‘Soon, my creation, you will shower the SCW with color. You will be a blaze upon which the old ways will bow to.’ As it shakes, Roboto pulls off the cloth, screaming ‘It’s alive… IT’S ALIIIIIIVE!’ He unstraps the creature, a very strangely dressed Loki. As he leaps off the slap, he lands, sending an explosion of color that transform the scene from black and white into full High Definition Color. ‘Retro here’ he says pulling out a stick of gum and chewing it. ‘Broadcasting to you live on the air waves from the other side of the Tornado. What has happened, you may ask? Too much to say now. I would rather show you’. He blows a bubble and pops it with his tongue. ‘I tell ya right now, that all of SCW had better buckle up, behind Kansas is going bye bye. We are headed for the merry new land of Oz, and it’s a one way trip. I am your guide, and the new standard of SCW. At the Underground invitational, a new bar is going to be raised and we are going to see that SCW can no longer let those who stay coloring within the lines pass through unchallenged. I am going to paint a new portrait for the world, and some of you are not going to like it… because some of you won’t be in it.’ He takes out a yo yo and places with it while thunder and lightning strike outside. He walks the dog while the camera fades to… COLOR… not black cause there is no black in the world of Sketch Retro. |
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i use to ride with Xander Valentine and he use to kick my ass just for fun and no one... no one in this match is as dangerous as Xander no one in this match will ever be as much of a brutal mother fucker as Xander that he would throw me through a glass door just because I made a crappy joke about grey pou pon. trust me it was bad... But the point is I've taken worse beatens then any one in this match can provide and I look forward to seeing if any one can come close to beating on me the ways ive been beaten down to nearly seperating my knee from its socket like Jason what ever the hell his name is did in the 10 000 thumbtack death match. I still get pain in my knee when it rains. I still have to where a knee brace because of that match and you know what its not a weakness its a badge of honor. You know what bring your worse and i'll bring mine. I look forward to see what guys like Thorn can bring there best the guy is the number one contender to jack starr. But that doesnt mean i am just going to lie down for him. That doesnt mean I am going to make you look good If your going to beat me thorn your going to have to give it your all your going to have to go all out because I dont go down easy. well lately maybe i have... but thats besides the point this is hardcore this is my type of match this is what i've been waiting for i am not going down easy. _CHIKARA.jpg)







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7:54 PM Jul 10