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Joachim “Noir” Fiore vs. Juan Ramirez
Topic Started: Apr 2 2011, 08:36 AM (120 Views)
Kassie Khane
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SCW Presents: Breakdown: April 13, 20]

Joachim “Noir” Fiore vs. Juan Ramirez

1 RP Limit; 2 RP Limit PER TEAM for the Tag match
Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, April 12, 2011

~~Good Lucky Everyone!~~

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Dirrty Rican Ent.
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... It's Now ... Not Later ...[/align]
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Red Hood
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short one - in the middle of moving out of school and to my new digs. good luck juan. really excited for pay per view to really get this started.


Journal Entry: Date Is April 12, 2005.

Got sent to the principal office again. Overweight asshole. Talks about how proper people should behave when meanwhile, he’s diddling the secretary and trying to pick up the head cheerleader, behind his old lady. Fucking hypocrite. He went on and on because I beat the hell out of Jesse Whitworth. Didn’t even stop talk to listen to me tell him how the bastard deserved it. He deserved the beating. He fucking wrecked my science project. Teacher wouldn’t listen either and gave me an F. Jesse was lucky I didn’t stick his head on a Bunsen burner! I really don’t get this at all! The students make fun of my accent, pick on me, and yet the fuckers who teach us do nothing about it. So I try to put someone on their ass, and I get in trouble. In between this and home, I am pretty sure that I am going to turn psycho eventually. One day, I can see myself buying an Ak 47 and going Colombine on them all. Maybe then, I can have the last laugh.

Something needs to change.


[align=center]Present[/align]
Ze Water dripped from a faucet dat hung over me head. Is something out of sum prison movie like guns of navarone or sumthin like dat. Ze solitary room. Dat’s where I been for the last few weeks whenever I be back here from SCW. Place is hell, for those of you wondering. Zis is da price of failure for General McCainyo. Bastard loses money and zen punishes me for it. As if it were sumthin zat I could control. Last two matches, I been thrown to Wallace and his fuck buddy. Zey outdid me. What of it?

You know what pisses me off is you people who expect me to be sum sort of unbeatable bastard. Think about it, mon amies. I live in a fucking prison. Zis room zat I am in stinks of sex and blood. In case you are wondering bout ze former, it’s cuz zis place is used for both, fucking up and fucking with. Zank God I have only ever been ze former. So as I sit here, in zis little shit hole, I been thinking bout a great deal of things. Thinking about when next I will be set on me meeting with ze General. Truth be told, ze bastard is overdue to give me a lecture after my pinfall loss to ze insane folks.

I been set to face my partner from ze other week, Juan Ramirez. Haven’t heard what he been saying, but sumthin on ze grapevine been saying dat a word been added to me name. They been saying dat de word ‘Noir’ been put in me name. Now, for dose of you don’t know what dat means, noir be French for ‘dark’ in most case and ‘black’ for color references. I did not add zis. Furthermore, I not been kept in talks about ze next step in what is set to ‘appen in scw. Still have that wad of moolah I stole from Shaw. Aven’t been able to use it, mon amies.

Fiore…

I know dat voice. It be Garrow. Pig Fucker. He welcomed me back after that six man by making me fight in ze Sparta against two people, one after ze other. Got me ass kicked by the second guy, but ze stopped it before he could do any permanent damage. Listen, amies. I hate Garrow. Hate him with a passion. Would love to get him in da Sparta.

Can’t sleep, Fiore?

‘You kidding, Warden? I be sleeping like a baby. Ya know, in between the fuckers you bring in ere. Candy seemed to be ‘aving a good time a few hours ago with Backker. How much dat make you?’

Business, Fiore. Can’t expect to have a suite like this to yourself all the time, can you?
‘Nah, suppose dat be too much to ask. Un fashce de fentime eska-ville.’

HEY! What did I say, Fiore! You don’t talk French to me! Ever! Oh yeah. You folks at home don’t know zat yet. Garrow hates dat. Hates dat I talk in ze French. He doesn’t understand a lick of it. Course, he thinks everyone be talking shit bout him. This case, I actually said he was a village idiot, so he be right zis time.

Just keep it English, ya fucking frog.
‘Got it, capitanne. So when can I expect ze General to cum visit? I think I need another lecture.’ Garrow stepped outside my view and zen zat door opened so, guess who, ze General could step through. Oh zis fucker. Let me say sumthin, mon amies. I really want to punch zis fella.

On your feet, Fiore.

You cant full stand up in zis room. Ze ceiling is too far down. So I be standing there like Igor while ze Frankenstein Creature lumbers in. God is zis bastard ugly. Zat mole in his head staring out like a third eye. He crossed his arms.

You have cost me a good deal of money last little while, 5684. Do you realize what that means? Tis true. Ze FBI been taking bribes and bets ‘gainst me on top of ze Sparta. Dey been raking in ze dough.

‘Sorry to hear zat, Generale. You had to use regular gas on your rolls Royce? How sad.’ I get met for zat comment with a swift shot to ze chops by Garrow. Ze two of them can barely fit in zis room. They both be bigger fucks than me. But take away zer little toys, and zey would be as helpless as infants.
‘MERDE!’ I scream at ze top of me lungs. What? It hurts to be his in ze face. You folks at home try it. Just ask some fuck who don’t like you, give em a hammer or sumthin heavy and have em whack you in ze face.

Now, 5684. Twice so far you have lost quite pathetically. First against Anthony Wallace and then his whole entourage. This is not good business. You were offered this project to win. Not to be beaten within an inch of your life. Is that clear? I spit down ze blood zat filled my mouth. Don’t worry, mon amies. Been dasting me own blood for years.

‘Oh I understand perfectly, Generale. But I also understand zat you don’t ze first thing bout incentive.’
Why you little - -
Hold it Garrow. Would you care to explain, 5684? Zis was my chance. ‘Well I know you want sum return on zis project. Thing is, in between being beaten the hell up by Garrow over zer, and Zis… lovely room where I get shown more X rated shite zan Ron Jeremy, how can you expect moi to fight at full capacity. It just isn’t good business.’

Hmm… perhaps you have a point, 5684. What would you suggest we do?
‘Well, don’t managers make sure zer fighters are at full capacity? Ya know. Make sure zey are healthy?’
You can have all the healthy you want as soon as you start winning.
Hold that, Garrow! Never seen the General yell at ze Warden, so zis is a treat. Perhaps we can arrange that, 5684. After all, maybe you are right. We can’t have you weak. It would not be sporting would it? He smiled at me. Dat smile of his in that sick fifty fifty of yellow and white. I’m in a fucking prison and my teeth are in better shape dan his. Talk about sad.

‘What zis ‘Noir’ crap I be hearing about, Generale?’ Something dat you folks at home need to know bout me. I hate secrets. I hate being put in ze dark. So putting me in solitary, zen making decisions for me while I’m in here REALLY puts me on edge. Combine zat with just being knocked in ze face, and I am about as mad as one can get.

You don’t need to worry about that for now, 5684. It’s something that we are working on. No big deal. He left the solitary room, whispering sumthin to Garrow. He cums up to me and forces me out of ze room into ze hall, slamming ze door closed behind him. 10 minutes later, and I was taken back to my cell, the metal doors closing behind me. Ze bed was weird to sleep in. Avent been sleeping on a cot in weeks.

Hey… that you, Fiore? Zat wasn’t Dorothy. That wasn’t Dorothy at all.

‘Candy? Where’s Dorothy?’
He hung himself last week. That asshole. I hit the wall with my fist. Why the fuck would he do sumthin like dat? He never seemed ze type. ‘Mon Dieu’ I said. ‘Candy… why would he do dat?’

Everyone’s got their point in this place, sweetie. You can fight it, but we all learn eventually that for some, the only walking papers come from the morgue. Ze Queen had a point. I did have walking papers. Ze came in ze words S, C, and W. I would have to start winning again, or it was going to result in more zan time in solitary. Whatever ze Generale had planned, it was going to lead to trouble if I kept losing him money.

‘Me Amore…’ I whispered when I grabbed ze picture from ze journal from under my pillow. Don’t you people ask me about her right now. I can’t tell you about her. It isn’t important. What is important is dat I explain this set up. Losing meant punishment and worse. Winning meant luxury. So whether or not Juan Ramirez was ready for moi or not, it was irrelevant. I had to be ready for him. And what was more important was that I needed to get out of zis place, before I reached my point…


Promo Blog
Written At The Prison Library And Posted On SCW’s Main Website


Hey Juan. Sorry about losing that one. You ain’t still sore bout that are you? Oh wait, don’t care. Be as pissed as you fucking want, because welcome to SCW. You don’t have to trust anyone, but know for a fact that you are going to lose. No one lives undefeated forever. Trust me on that. So I got pinned and you were on the losing team. Shut up and get the fuck over it ya whiny bitch. You know what we do to people like you who don’t stop whinning about what you didn’t get? We end up smashing their jaw so they don’t talk no more. Go jump offa cliff and take your complaints to your fucking God and see what he says, because truth be told, I ain’t got the time or the patience to put up with. You worry about winning titles and you know what? That’s your prerogative. You can have that in your life. I don’t have that luxury. I don’t fight to win titles. I fight because I got something that you don’t. The unconquerable desire to survive. You, Juan, are a threat to my survival, and so I am going to get over you. One way or another. I have to survive. There is too much for me to do before I go. So take this your little hard on for the pity card and shove it up where the sun don’t shine. And if you’re feeling a little squrrley, rotate a bit on it to give yourself a thrill. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think you are going to do to me. It’s about as relevant as you are talented at scaring me. On Breakdown, you and me are going to have a little dance before I go off to face Sebastian Shaw at Riding the Lightning. I am going to take that rich bastard and hope that he brings all his money so I can steal it. But first, I am going to have a little fun, making you my bitch.

Au Revoir, Juan. See you in the ring.

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