|
Post by Toom E. Guci on Nov 5, 2007 22:13:38 GMT -5
*A Video package plays. Words scroll acorss the screen with highlites from the past event of this name.*
|
|
|
Post by Hensley on Nov 6, 2007 1:44:43 GMT -5
*Fade into a dark room, showing Hardcore Hensley standing alone.*
"Season's Beatings...ahhh, the mere title lights a fire inside of me! An EWT tradition, where we give back to the troops of the good ol' U S of A!"
"Hardcore Hensley is ready to go now! If it were up to me, Christmas would be coming a month early, instead of just a couple of days."
"I would like to initiate an open challenge immediately! Any and all challengers are welcomed to step in my path!"
"Season's Beatings is upon us...and I'm looking to dish out a very brutal and painful beating of my own..."
"Early Merry Christimas..."
*Fade out*
|
|
|
Post by pta on Nov 6, 2007 13:56:52 GMT -5
We cut to the back, as we see a familiar, hated face, in the EWT, adjusting his glasses and sitting in a nearby lobby, located near the offices of both Dorf and Toomi. He lets out a loud sigh, looking down to check his watch, scratching under his chin a bit and continuing to wait. Soon, a voice is heard nearby.
Secretary: Mr... Pain? We're ready for you now.
Pain: It's about time you harlot... and for the last time, it's PRINCIPAL PAIN!
Secretary: Uh yeah, Toomi doesn't pay me to remember stupid names like that.
The principal lets out an aggravated sigh, as he rises up, walking into a nearby office, opening the door, then looking over, walking and sitting down, another unfamilair sitting before him.
Man: Yo dawg... let's chill out and rap about bro.
Pain: ... What?
Man: Yeah yeah, I know what ya mean booy... I assume ya heard the word on why we asked yas to come out here right boss?
Pain: Yes... yes I got the blasted memo.
Man: Alright... cool, cool. Well, here's the haps pops. You see, we here in duh EWT management crew have been a bit... concernified about how you keep getting paid by us, but not doin a damn thing to get that check. Word?
The Principal looks up, eyes lowering slowly as he gets a rather angry expression on his face.
Pain: You've got to be kidding me... I've done EVERY STUPID THING YOU'VE ASKED ME! I hosted that insipid Two tough nonsense that never had an actual conclusion, I've worked down at the developmental, training all your so called, great talents so they're ready to come up to the roster, I even agreed to do that whole Whose Gonna Manage Me idiocy... which was rigged from the start! I DAMN WELL DESERVE MY CHECKS!!!
Man: Whoa whoa... slow your roll pops, I didn't mean to be illin on ya. The word is though that the bosses have issued an ultamatum to ya. You see, we're gonna be giving you a month to come up with something. I don't care what ya do personally bro, become active again, manage some guys, or even work in the lunchroom.
Pain: I wasn't even aware we had a cafeteria...
Man: The only thing ya can't do is continue to sit around, complaining and complaining about your injured back... How long has dat been injured anyway ya damn baby?!
Pain: That injury was quite serious... I'll thank you not to make fun.
Man: And I thankin myself for doin so, so that makes us even, ya hear?
Pain: ... What?
Man: So anyway, you heard the drill dude. You find somethin to do or we'll stop your sucklin on our teat ourselves... ya dig?
Pain: Hmmmph... something seems familiar about you.
Pain looks up, realizing that this man is in fact, EWT failure, Jim Thaddeus Dinner, except in a business suit and glasses, but still wearing his bling and a cliche backwards baseball cap.
JTD: Yo man, what could ya possibly be talkin bout? I ain't got no clue what you're implying g.
Pain: ... Nevermind. Fine, I'll find something to do if it'll get you vultures off my carcass. I mean, after all, I gave yo upeople the BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE AND YOU'VE TREATED ME LIKE A NOBODY! I CREATED THE PTA, ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT STABLES IN THE EWT'S HISTORY! I BROGUHT YOU CHANCE CONFIDENCE! I BROUGHT YOU THE CANCELER! I...
JTD: Well, you also brought that Secretary Saucy chick, ya heard?
Pain: ... I DIDN"T KNOW SHE WAS UNTALENTED! Besides, I thought Ragnal fixed her...
JTD: Eh, not really. Look, the point is, what have you done lately?
Pain: ... I HATE THIS WHOLE DAMN COMPANY!
Pain immediately jumps out of his chair, kicking the thing with all his might, then grasping his foot in pain.
Pain: DAMN IT!!!
He quickly shakes off the pain, glaring right at the incompetent man sitting before him.
Pain: YOU WILL NOT CUT ME OFF... I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, I WILL FIND SOMETHING AND I WILL PRODUCE ANOTHER GREAT TALENT!!!
He quickly storms out of the room, slamming the door shut, which just happens to say Human Resources. The Principal looks on in anger, quickly adjusting his glasses and stomping back down the nearby hallway, as we quickly fade to commercial.
|
|
Ass Dan
King Koopa
Curious about extra lines
Have you seen me?
Posts: 12,259
|
Post by Ass Dan on Nov 6, 2007 14:24:56 GMT -5
'Testify' hits the speakers. The audience boos as Joe One makes his way to the ring.
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the EWT World Heavyweight Champion, Joe One!
One walks with a bit of a limp, still suffering from the Megadeth. He gets a microphone.
One: Have you begun to understand properly? It doesn't matter who challenges me; I am always victorious.
The crowd boos One, a 'You suck' chant begins. One stares blankly for a few moments until the chant subsides.
One: Now then, having defeated another former EWT Champion in the form of Limey, that leaves one last wrestler I have to defeat to fufill the Fourth Order. So Maelstorm, please come out.
One stands at attention, staring at the entrance ramp. But instead of 'Apocalypse Please' playing, 'Otherworld' starts to play to the shock of the audience! One has a look of confusion as Mysth walks from the back, with stitches above his left eye and bandages covering most of the back of his head. Mysth looks angry as a 'Let's go Mysth' chant starts up.
Mysth: JOE!
One: That's Mr. One.
Mysth: You're not as tough as you say you are! You couldn't beat me without bringing out a weapon. As far as I'm concerned, I should've beaten you!
The crowd cheers. One ponders for a moment.
One: I'm not quite sure you understand. The Megadeth does not feature disqualifications. Any foreign object, be it a ladder, a chair, or, in my case, a Taiwanese cricket bat, is fair play. You just didn't think on your feet.
Mysth: Okay. You know what? You're right. Weapons were allowed. And you know something else? Maybe you're better than me when it comes to using them. But I'll be damned if I'm not a better wrestler than you!
One: What are you saying?
Mysth: I'm saying that I deserve another shot at the title!
The crowd cheers this idea. One, however, shakes his head.
One: I'm sorry, Mysth, but you need to get in line. If I'm going to fufill the Nine Orders, I need to defeat all previous EWT World Heavyweight Champions. Since I've beaten everyone else, I have only to beat Maelstorm. In fact, he holds a contract to become the #1 contender. Besides, I've beaten you. I deserve to face others who have not lost to me yet.
Mysth walks back and forth on the stage.
Mysth: I thought this would happen. You'd say I didn't deserve one, and that Maelstorm did. That's why I got this!
He holds up a piece of paper.
One: And that is?
Mysth: Earlier today, I spoke with Maelstorm. I asked him about his title shot, and it turns out that he has other plans at Season's Beatings. So I asked about his open title shot contract. He told me to go ahead and face you, Joe One. He gave me his contract, and and I signed it. Here!
Mysth brings a cameraman to take a close-up of the letter.
One squints as he sees what has arisen.
One: So, I see.
Mysth: Yes, but you using that Taiwanese cricket bat won't happen again, because the title will be able to change hands on a DQ!
The crowd cheers.
One: Is that so? You think that I, Joe One, must use cheap tactics to win matches? How about we make this a bit more strict? I say we make the match....a Pure Rules match.
A few people in the audience cheer, are then told to shut up.
Mysth: You know what? I'll take it. You, me, the title, Season's Beatings, Pure Rules. I suggest you get ready, Joe.
One: That's Mr...
But before he can finish his sentance, Mysth has already walked off. One raises an eyebrow before leaving the ring.
*CROSSFADE*
|
|
Tiffany
Mike the Goon
Don't ask me. I'm just a girl... aheheh, aheheh...
Posts: 39
|
Post by Tiffany on Nov 6, 2007 19:08:04 GMT -5
Toni "TG" Garcya: The following contest is a BRA & PANTIES MATCH... *The pre-pubescent element of the crowd that gets off to such a spectacle cheers in anticipation.* "TG": Introducing first... "Lemme show ya what love is, Lemme show ya how to move your body... body...body..."*Candice Michelle walks out to the top of the ramp wearing shiny silver pants & a similarly coloured vest-like top.* "TG": From Milwaukee, Wisconsin... CANDICE MICHELLE! *Candice goes through her usual entrance routine... whatever that is & waits in the ring for her opponent.* "4 - 3 - 2-1...
4- 3 - 2-1...
1 - 2 - 3 - Whooo..."Toni "TG" Garcya: And her opponent, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at 118lbs... TIFFANY!!! *Tiffany bounds out on to the ramp clad in tight wee shorts & a white tankini. She seems pretty confident about her chances in this match. She doesn't slow down too much on her way to the ring & stumbles just as she reaches the end of the ramp.* DING-DING! *Upon entering the ring, Tiffany immediately grabs a hold of Candice's top & attempts to tear it off, but Candice elbows Tiff in the face. Tiffany stumbles backwards, bouncing off the ropes. Candice takes Tiff to the ground with a Drop Toe Hold. With Tiff lying face down on the mat, Candice begins yanking Tiffany's shorts off. Tiff tries her best to scramble away, but Candice only tugs harder. Eventually the shorts come off & the match is half over for Tiffany. The horny men in the crowd begin whooping & cheering at the sight of Tiffany's thong-clad lower-half. Candice holds Tiffany's shorts over her head & triumphantly does her little "Moving-my-arms-in-a-circle-over-my-head" dance. Tiffany looks vaguely embarrassed at being stripped of her shorts. She runs at Candice & knocks her down with a Spear/Double-Leg Takedown combo. Then the usual Catfight ensues. Tiff bangs Candice's head off the mat, they roll over so Candice is on top. Then the former Diva Search Contestant bangs Tiff's head off the mat. They continue to roll & roll... rolling over the referee. The ref, apparently, is the most over individual in the match. The two Divas rolling over him gets the biggest reaction all match. When the girls have finally rolled off the referee, he stands up, looking quite pleased with himself. After the two women have completed their Rolling Around routine, Candice gets to her feet & gives the official a cold look, as if to say "How dare you look so smug while we parade around in our underwear." With Candice's attention focussed elsewhere, Tiff attacks from behind, ripping Candice's top right off. Again, loud whooping from the audience ensues.* *Candice vainly tries to cover herself up. She tries whipping Tiffany to the ropes, but Tiffany rebounds & feebly clotheslines Candice. The weakness of the blow, as well as Candice's crappy looking oversell give the crowd cause to boo. Tiff stands over the prone Candice & pulls her legs up. As Candice lies flat on her abck with her legs in the air (ac~hem), Tiffany bends over & tries to remove Candice's pants. She gets the pants halfway down Candice's ass & pauses to give the former WWE Women's Champion a slight spanking . Candice struggles against Tiff & rolls through so that she is now sitting on Tiff's arms & holding her legs. But Candice is unable to grab Tiffany's top in this position. She looks flummoxed... Then Tiff rolls through again, to the side, this time & begins yanking down Candice's shiny pants again. Candice is able to escape the predicament & gets back to her feet. She whips Tiff towards the corner & follows her. Candice puts Tiffany in a Figure-4 Neck Lock as the crowd whoop for one of about three moves Candice can actually do! The referee gives Candice a five count to release the hold. She does so at the count of four. Tiff falls forward, landing on all fours, clutching slightly at her own throat. Candice attempts to remove Tiffany's top, pulling at it, the seams are rending apart. But Tiffany twists around on to her back, kicking Candice back to the corner with both feet. Tiffany aims for a Monkey Flip on Candice out of the corner. But the move fails, Candice lands on top of Tiffany who lacks sufficient leg strength to execute the move properly. Candice grabs a hold of Tiffany's top & pulls it off over the blonde bimbo's head.* DING-DING-DING! "TG": HERE IS YOUR WINNER... CANDICE MICHELLE!!! *Candice's music plays as she celebrates in her bra & illustrates the qualities that made her such a desreving Women's Champion as she drops her trousers to expose her behind anyway. She leans over to the defeates Tiffany & plants a kiss lightly on her lips... yes, it's the tired old lipstick lesbian routine. Candice heads up the ramp while Tiffany, mildly humiliated, stands in the ring enduring the jeers & cat-calls of the horny fools of the audience.*
|
|
|
Post by bollywood on Nov 6, 2007 19:38:20 GMT -5
SPEAKING OF HORNY FOOLS...
EWT ARENA - LOCKER ROOM AREA
Jasmyne is shown with a pleased grin as she has just finished watching the Tiffany & Candice Michelle match on the television set up in the back.
Jasmyne: "Now that's hot."
She plays with her long locks while maintaining her aroused smile, as the producers in the production truck have done their job of wasting 10 seconds of air time.
|
|
Rated X
Tommy Wiseau
The following post has been RATED X
Posts: 60
|
Post by Rated X on Nov 7, 2007 1:18:45 GMT -5
Samoa Joe and Junior Fatu are backstage when they see a catering truck. Fatu runs straight at it while Joe just scoffs and turns around. Fatu keeps eating, unaware that the pie he's eating is slowly rising. Suddenly, a loud "CLANG!" is heard as Chad Michaels is seen standing in a hole in the table with a frying pan under a pie taped to his head. Fatu is lying on the ground, blood pouring from his forehead. Joe goes over to try and help his fallen comrade when Mike Corral comes out from underneath the table and catches Joe with a shot to the junk. Corral locks in the Cobra Clutch, keeping Joe standing long enough for Chad to deliver the Collision Course. As soon as Chad's boot connects with Joe's face, Corral uses this momentum to hit a modified suplex with the Cobra Clutch still in, dropping Joe on his head.
Mike & Chad: RATED X MUTHAF***AS!!
Both men give crotch chops before walking away, Mike picking at the pie still attached to Chad's head.
|
|
|
Post by crauswell on Nov 7, 2007 11:50:24 GMT -5
We cut to the back, as we see Crauswell simply sitting down outside the Cidal Squad locker room, a familiar stuffed horse set in his lap, as he strokes slowly over it, looking to be in thought, almost in a state of pure vacancy. As he sits, we see the man most likely to drown in the shower, Sum Guy. He simply waltzs up to the furry, leaning down towards him.
Sum: I'm Sum Guy and I DON'T KNOW WHY I'M SHOUTING!!! I'm here with the Cidal Force, Crauswell.
The furry doesn't even acknowledge Sum, simply gazing down and brushing over that stuffed animal, still in though, as Sum leans in closer.
Sum: That's a pretty horsey!
Crauswell: ...
Sum: I remember one time, my dad took me to a farm and I got to pet one of those, then it kicked me in the face... then everything got all woozy and when I woke up, I was laying around with a bunch of piggies and mom and dad were gone.
Crauswell: ...
Sum: Ummm, so yeah. What ya doin?
The furry slowly turns around, stopping his petting over the motionless toy, as he turns around, giving Sum a glance, though you can't see how he looks, he definitely doesn't seem happy with the annoying young man. He removes his hands on the stuffed equine, dropping it in his lap.
Crauswell: *uncomfortable calm* I don't give a damn about your idiotic antics... I could care less about that empty skull of yours being nearly knocked off... and I would embrace your demise you pest.
Sum: Oh, well, can I trouble you for some quick questions? You know, we can rap about some stuff and get real jiggy...
The furry continues to speak in this rather disturbing manner, cutting Sum Guy off.
Crauswell: If you're going to ask about the Megadeth... I didn't lose. I was double teamed by two cowards, who didn't have the courage to face me one on one. I was ganged up on by them, because they knew that alone, neither of them could even touch me. They knew I had their number and that it was only a matter of time before I broke them into and took that glorious EWT title from them. I don't blame them for being scared... and I certainly don't blame them so dodging me and going after that Mysth. They have a score to settle... and I'm just fine with that. I'll be happy to wait for a more fair chance against Joe One, because honestly I loathe one sided contests.
Sum: Oh well... about that...
Crauswell: If your asking about the status of the Cidal Squad, I'll answer that too. I don't know what's going on and I really don't care. Yes, I still respect both of them somewhat and I still pledge loyalty to the Cidal Squad. However, lately I've been busy with other things, both of them seeming fine with that, so I figure if they aren't bothering me, then I'll stay out of their matters as well. At least, until I'm needed. After all, I'm still the Cidal Force and that takes priority over personal matters. Right now though, they seem to be doing fine without my involvement...
Sum: Fine? But... they seemed to be a bit... hostile over each other.
Crauswell: I'm not going to come between them... I'd rather let them work this out for themselves.
Sum: Ok... well, one more quick question then. Why did you attack Voltig...
Almost instantly Crauswell reaches out, grabbing Sum Guy by the throat in one hand, leaning in close, plastic beak to nose, remaining just as calm as before, though a quiet rage seems to be present in him.
Crauswell: I did not attack Voltigeur...
Sum: *gasping* Ack... but I saw you with my own working eye...
Crauswell: I did not attack Voltigeur...
Sum: You put him through a table and helped cost him the Toolshed title...
Crauswell: I DID NOT ATTACK VOLTIGEUR!!! You're a damn liar and I don't particularly care for people like you. I have no reason to attack him... he's a very kind young man, a admirable human, one of the few that I actually respect. He is one of the few to have defeated me and I wish nothing but the best for him. It's a shame he lost that title to the Celtic Giant, but that was merely fate. We all know that fates oftens deals one a bad hand... and that was just his misfortune that night. I had nothing to do with it... and if that man is going to accuse me of doing otherwise, well then, that his stupid choice. To him I'll just say, be careful about the beasts you tease, because they will bite you back if you're not careful.
Sum: I SAW YOU OUT THERE ON THE PPV! YOU BEAT HIM UP AND PUT HIM THROUGH A WOODEN TABLE! HE PROBABLY STILL HAS SPLINTERS IN HIS BODY!!!
Crauswell: Your an idiot. Nobody cares about what you think ,I mean, like you said, your own parents abandoned you in a pile of filth. Obviously they had reason to.
Sum: I SAW YOU...
Instantly Crauswell lunges out again, obliterating Sum Guy with a merciless fist to the face, knocking him out cold. He grabs his "claw" dusting it off, then slowly reaching back down, grabbing the horse and simply twisting it's head clean off... nodding and tossing the ruined thing atop Sum's unconcious body, returning inside the Cidal Squad locker room as we fade to commercial.
|
|
Sigma: Current SRW Champ!
Dennis Stamp
Writes about wrestling, does videos about game shows, helps transpeople, loves baseball etc.
Posts: 4,524
|
Post by Sigma: Current SRW Champ! on Nov 7, 2007 13:53:21 GMT -5
Tony Schiavone: Ok, both Sigma and Bret Hart are at the entrance of the Small World ride at our special show at Disneyworld. They will take part in a Small World Match. Now, what has to happen is that the first person to get out of the ride via the exit will win. If they escape through other means, they are disqualified.
Mark Madden: Yeah, that will prove that Vince Russo and Eric Bischoff are providing our viewers with the best entertainment possible. This is what EWT is all about.
Tony Schiavone: Whatever, Mark. Let’s just go to the action.
Sigma and Bret Hart enter the ride. A bell sounds and the action gets underway.
Sigma: Bret, why are we fighting in this stupid stipulation match? Both of us are expert wrestlers and we can put on a 4 star match in the ring, not in a stupid ride.
Bret: I don’t care, I need to prove to myself that I am the best wrestler in the world. I don’t care. I’m much better than HBK and won’t get screwed again!
Bret Hart lunges after Sigma, but Sigma grabs both of Bret’s legs and sets him up for one of his most sinister plans.
Sigma: Bret, you really don’t want me to do this to you. The physical pain will be only temporary, but the emotional and mental pain will drive you to insanity.
Bret: Shut up, you bastard. Let me go and we’ll fight and I’ll win.
Sigma: You just won’t admit it. Well, time for some shock treatment.
Mark Madden: Oh my god, Sigma is dominable.
Tony Schiavone: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
Sigma decides to cross Bret’s legs and set up for a Sharpshooter. Sigma tells Bret one more time to give up.
Sigma: You really don’t want me to do this to you. I’m not joking.
Bret: Screw you. I will win.
Sigma: I tried, but you won’t listen.
Sigma then turns over the Sharpshooter and starts to put the pressure on Bret’s psyche.
Sigma: Remember 10 years ago around this time, where you were in this same predictament? It seems that you won’t let go. Now, I must do what I must do to win this match and get back against Shane Malone.
Bret: Who?
Sigma: Not Jim Neidhart, you Canadian dunce. But, suit yourself for not bowing out.
Mark Madden: What is Sigma doing? He’s getting ready for the unblathable.
Tony Schiavone: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
Sigma puts his plan into motion.
Sigma (doing a Vince McMahon imitation): EARL, RING THE BELL! RING THE DAMN BELL! HE ISN’T GOING TO TAKE THAT BELT TO WCW. I WANT SHAWN MICHAELS TO WEAR THAT BELT. RING THE BELL NOW!
Bret: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! LET ME GO!!!!!!!!!!
Sigma then breaks the hold. Bret dashes for the entrance.
Sigma: You’re supposed to go through the exit, you idiot.
Bret: I don’t care! I hate you, I hate wrestling, and I hate Disney.
Bret rushes to the entrance and gets himself disqualified.
Mark Madden: Sigma has broken Bret Hart mentally and rushed out the Entrance!!! Sigma’s won the match by DQ.
Tony Schiavone: ZZZ THIS IS THE GREATEST NIGHT IN THE HISTORY OF OUR SPORT!
Sigma: Idiots. Now back to what I was going for. Time to go after Shane Malone and get my title, which I so rightly deserve. There will be no stopping me this time.
|
|
Bedlam LadyD
Samurai Cop
Is a WSX Cupcake. BOOOOOOOM!!
Posts: 2,452
|
Post by Bedlam LadyD on Nov 7, 2007 20:11:24 GMT -5
The in-ring announcer does his job. “The following contest is a Girl Next Door Title Match, the rules of which are an evening gown contest! The first woman to rip off her opponent’s outfit is the winner.” Thinking his mic has been turned off adds quietly.“Don’t let Synthy kill me…” Jillian Hall is already in the ring, dressed in oddball black and… oh, remember Britney Spears’ bad biker bitch dress from a few years back? Indeed, that’s what the popstar-wannabe is dressed in. Her head set is on as well… “It’s JILLIAN, bitch!” The audience instinctively wrap their hands over their ears, afraid to hear what the WWE Songstress has decided to pulverize now. As soon as she opens her mouth, however, the lights dim to purple and fuchsia, and Otep’s Ghostflowers is pumped up so loud it decimates any off-key singing Jillian was doing. The people’s heads automatically turn to see if Synthy’s actually going to go through with this….. Holy….. The audience’s hands drop from their ears in shock, as well as their mouths. Seems Synthy decided to go through with the evening gown after all. … Much to the immense shock of everybody, everyone, their moms, their dogs, and especially to the male members of the audience. And then some. Synthy’s strutted out to the center of the ramp, and damn-near everyone has a ‘what the f… ‘ look. Synthy. Is. In. A. Dress. A. DRESS. This dress to be precise. Synthy’s look is one of the most … pleased looks. Always searching to surprise people, this gown, actually abiding by the match’s set-stupidity, gives her satisfaction. The beautiful GND title is wrapped over a muscular, well-formed shoulder. Synthy’s tattoos are in full glory, as it seems she got some color re-touched…. Her half of the Juri/Synthy friendship necklace is placed beside the longer necklace of an ankh. A deep black choker with a red ruby teardrop adds to the classy, ultra-sexy look the woman has. It’s the first time it’s ever happened. From the wicked gleam in her eyes…. And the fact she sports a bloodstained metal finger tells that she’s got plans. She steps into the ring, no pleasantries, and the bell rings. Jillian comes after her…and gets a knee to the face. A fishnet wrapped knee. Synthy rolls her eyes, and before the viewers even know what to make of it, Synthy’s planted Jillian down with her Intentions. Synthy’s definitely in no mood to play rabid cat to Jillian’s mouse tonight, as she quickly rips off Jillian’s attire, exposing granny-panties and a black bustier. Synthy shakes her head, and throws the woman out of the ring, dusting her hands off in the process. As Jillian stumbles to the back, Syn takes a mike. “Blah blah, I win against some Britney Spears wanna-be. Woo! Go me and all that…. Anyway, I have some MUCH bigger issues to attend tonight. And I am damn sure you all know the reason why. First off, Juri. F***kin A’, woman. I sent you something…but I will be by later to discuss it. I’m proud of ya… Jay, I’ll certainly be discussing important events with you over Cheetos and DDR..once I’m out of this get-up and into regular attire…but, there are a few … issues, problems, circumstances that have me out here at the moment. J, I’ll talk to you in a more personal environment later, kay chikadee?” Synthy rolls her shoulders and shakes her head. She drags the metal finger down the side of her face, grinning wickedly. “So I have the one thing I’ve worked hard for. The one thing I’ve lived through abuse for….And there’s a certain entity in this arena that seeks to taint my victory. That seeks to taint the fact that I am a worthy champion. I’ve fought the toughest women, and then some not so tough ones. I’ve already shed so much blood for this… but there’s a nasty aura around every time I hold it. It’s because of…one..little man who one day decided to make my accomplishments demeaned. Forget it though, because my fire, the flames that I’ve put behind this title…behind my career here, would be extinguished if it were up to him. This scarred man would have it so I remained a screwed up nobody. You failed in your determination already. You failed to extinguish it. The fire inside of me..isn’t fire. The fire inside me is passion, don’t get me wrong, but my passion is endurance, pride, insulation walls against ego…. Against arrogance unjustified.” Synthy’s voice has gained a gruff quality, worthy of one Otep Shymaya. She straightens out her dress as she stands straight up, looking around her. Her posture, combined with her dress and flaming eyes, make her seem damn-near like a super heroine from a goth romance graphic novel. “How many times do I have to open my damn mouth before somebody actually straight-up listens? I know, you’re tired of hearing my spiel about how I’m straightedge, and an anti-slut. How tired I am of not getting enough respect, hell, I got disrespected by some white-haired nymphomaniac in leather chaps. If that’s not pathetic… whatever. I’m weary of explaining myself. I’m weary of people assuming I’m a one-trick kind of girl. ‘Oh, she’s a leather-wearing pretty-girl killer. So?’ I have honestly heard this reaction and it grieves me. I put my life and my soul into this business, and people consistently try to turn me into a horrible cartoon character. I am not a single-dimensional woman. Half of you don’t bother seeing past the scars and the hair, or the clothes, and the half of you that do try…get scared. You see something inside of me that you aren’t used to. A subtle psychosis, a quiet insanity, a silenced impression of masochistic tendencies… I’ve heard it all before, I’ve heard it said in different languages. The truth is, it does exist… But all of this soothed lunacy has a direction. I don’t release it in the way that Karma does, nor do I hide it like some of the wrestlers in this company… I have found a path for it. The path is the same one that will take all of my pride… all of my inner beast. All of my passion. The path of which I speak is the reason the boiling sensation never explodes into the world that the potential for it would allow. The pathway keeps it contained, thus allowing me to keep focused. Focused. Oh MAN, I am focused. I have so much controlled energy…I feel a hurricane, a tornado, a tsunami raging around inside. I can’t wait to release it. The other night was a taste of it…a taste. Speaking of which… the blood the was upon my special friend here…” At this, Synthy points the metal claw upward, then places it on her chin, her pose one of a seductive madness, her eyes are flaring and her hair is a deranged halo. “The taste of that blood makes me want more. At the end of my path lies more then a taste. At the end..Cassinova. At the end of all this… even you dimwitted fool will realize something… I’m the girl that can be either a nightmare or a dream. You picked the option of me being your nightmare from the very beginning. I’m a specimen of utmost vengeance, and I plan on severing the hatred bond between us. I don’t even know if you understand my words. I don’t know if you realize just how deep something has been set between us. However, by the end of my path, after the final incision has been set……you’ll understand every brutal syllable. But no matter how hard it gets, even for me…. I won't let up. I won't relinquish the grip from the throat of this company. I'll only grow stronger, and better... and every drop of blood I bleed, as well as every drop of blood I spill will further my awakening as the truest force in wrestling today. I can't be weak. I won't be weak. I am not weak. In my eyes, in my mind... the weak? The won't inherit a kingdom. In my mind... the weak are the MEEK! And the meek... they shalt inherit nothing... Cassinova...your mind is weak. Your Violent streak is somewhere, but oh-so-fragile. You wonder why I can't stand you? Why I love peeling the very flesh from your all-too-pretty face? Your mind is weak, And..I don't abide weakness. Every drop of blood I spill from you...might make you a step closer to being less weak....Who knows? At this moment, I prefer you being like this. In this state...I get more blood. And that...that is always a good thing. That violence streak better come out soon, Cass...your precious face depends on it." Synthy stands and smiles. She stares at every person in the audience, locking eyes with the ones who seem the most shocked or surprised by her words. She spreads her arms out, and raises the metal finger claw high. The shot the cameras pause on is a simple, powerful one. Synthy has her arms spread out, posed like wings. Her dress stays perfectly in place and manages to accentuate her normally-hidden curves, her legs seemingly even longer then normal. The simultaneous focus and lunacy on her face say a million words. Synthy is ready. The path of which she has placed herself is a dangerous one. But she’s prepared and ready to take every bit of blood and gore, passion and energy that the path will send to consume her. She’ll take it, before it ever overtakes her. Flaming amethysts set among spider leg eyelashes are enough to prove she means every word she said. There are some who heard her speech who are in awe, the others in self-possessed lust for a woman that is a self-proclaimed nightmare, the woman who will tear your eyes out just as soon as say hi. Synthy Eris is all set. Cassinova, and anyone else ready to demean her, is going to get a lesson in what 'Intense' means.
|
|
|
Post by liontamer12 on Nov 8, 2007 17:22:47 GMT -5
We return from commercial to the EWT ring. Valentine is down, bloody and unmoving in the middle of the ring. John Cena, Rick Martel and Jesse Nunez stand above him taking turns stomping away at his still form. The camera cuts to JR and King sitting on folding chairs behind a destroyed EWT Announcer's table.
JR: Folks, I can't begin to describe the carnage we have seen here during the commercial break. As you can see, JLV is busted open and unconscious in the ring and our table here is destroyed as well.
King: I told you they were going to kill him!
JR: Luckily, by Valentine's orders, the lovely Amnestria returned to the back so that she wouldn't have to witness first hand these events:
The double featurette appears and we begin to witness what transpired during the commercial break. Rick Martel pushes Valentine into the corner closest JR and King's announce table. He spins him around and moves to the apron, he raises him higher and higher until they reach the top turnbuckle and superplexes Valentine from the ring to the announce table! Martel, rather than land on his back, gives an extra push to Valentine, and lands on his feet with Nunez there to catch him. As soon as the table breaks, Cena flies from the apron as well and executes a leaping Five Knuckle Shuffle!
JR: Pure brutality, but it doesn't stop there.
Another segment is shown of Martel and Cena distracting the referee when Jesse Nunez smashes Valentine's face in with a steel chair, flattening him out and busting him open like a stuck pig.
JR: This is what this match has come to ladies and gentlemen. Referee Tim White just needs to end this match.
King: And deprive EWT fans from great television?!
JR: This isn't great television damnit! This is sheer evil!
Finally, Cena stops everyone from stomping away at JLV and dives down for the STFU! Valentine explodes out of consciousness and screams in pain, struggling to find a rope.
JR: Finally, this match will end and Valentine may have his life.
All of a sudden, we hear the crowd erupt. Cameras turn to the ramp and we see Andy "The Eagle" Davidson bursting down the ramp. As soon as he reaches the apron, however, Valentine taps out. The bell rings, but Cena doesn't let go.
DING, DING, DING!
Howard Finkel: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match, JOHN CENA, RICK MARTEL AND JESSE "THE PHOENIX" NUNEZ!
The crowd roars with jeers and boo's with displeasure but soon erupts in cheers again as Davidson rushes into the ring and first knocks Cena off of Valentine's back. Valentine melts on the floor as the former WWE Champion rolls off of Valentine. Davidson quickly turns around and bashes both Martel and Nunez's face in with his snooker cue. Cena gets up to rush at Davidson but notices the snooker cue and backs out of the ring. Martel and Nunez roll out as well, holding their faces, looking for traces of blood.
JR: Thank god that's over! Davidson just equalized this confrontation with that snooker cue!
Just as Nunez, Martel and Cena reach the stage, their smirks of accomplishment are changed to jaw-dropping fear as "RIP" by Gary Numan hits.
JR: LIMEY?!
The crowd explodes in excitement as we see Amnestria pulling Limey out from the curtain. He is a little hesitant, but comes out anyway. Limey walks in between the three wrestlers, no jokes in his face as Amnestria squeaks by all three of them, running to the ring. Limey stays in between Nunez Martel and Cena and allows the EWT EMT's to rush down to the ring as well. Limey scares the three to run to the back and chuckles. He throws up the horns to a pop bigger than any in the previous match and exits through the curtain.
JR: As JR talks, EWT EMT's work to get Valentine on a stretcher and out of the ring. Well, Limey was used as the London Bridge quite effectively. Why he did it, I have no clue but I'm glad to see Nunez, Martel and Cena out of the picture and our EMT's aiding The Lion.
The camera cuts as Valentine is wheeled out of the arena on a stretcher, Davidson and Amnestria by his side, to thunderous applause.
|
|
|
Post by williamo on Nov 9, 2007 15:49:57 GMT -5
*Liam O'Neill stumbles around a Hollywood Backlot, looking out for his opponent. Goldust emerges from the shadows behind Liam & violently Bulldogs the Ex-Team Irelander. Liam gets up with a bloody face & takes a swing at Goldust. Goldust whips Liam towards a dumpster. Liam crashes against it & Goldust does his weird chest-stroking taunt thing. Goldust grabs a nearby studio light & prepares to smash it in Liam's face... but his attack is foiled as Black Reign appears & starts pounding on Goldust. Black Reign gets out Misty & is about to unleash her in Goldust's face, when Dustin Rhodes appears & Bulldog's Black Reign. Liam just runs away to escape from the utter weirdness...*
|
|
|
Post by xombiehiphop on Nov 9, 2007 19:22:00 GMT -5
Chapter One: Burning Alive.
Lamont The Don is shown on his hands and knee's. He doesn't look much like a Don at the moment. He looks more like a wretched servant. His tattered clothing and blank expression have replaced his once prominent bravado. A pair of black boots are rested squarely upon the center of his back..he's being used as a human foot stool. The feet upon his back belong to the Tri-State Champion, Ghost Face. He's sitting in a black chair that some kind of gothic monarch might use. His top hat is tilted low over his eyes and a rather dull and almost irritated look is upon his face. He caresses the jack 'o lantern on the tip of his cane while keeping his sight forward
Sum Guy: I'm Sum Guy and--
A hand finds it's way around Sum's mouth. The appendage belongs to Wraith and he steps from the shadows of the backstage area. His fingers dig into Sum's skin as he begins to throttle him. Standing 6'2'', coupled with his green hair and blood hued eyes, The Draugr's muscle strikes quiet an opposite sight
Wraith: Ya see..yer part of the problem, boy. Yer repetitive. Yer predictable. Yer gonna say yer dumb little random catch phrase, aint'cha? Ya stand around, hold a mic, get punched by wrestlers, and do it all with a smile. Yer less than a man..ya ain't even got a name..
Wraith shoves Sum backwards, shaking his head with a scowl. Sum rubs his mouth as a few fingers creep onto his shoulders from behind
Corpse: You are quiet a sickening display of humanity. Not even fit to be feed to the rats, vermin, the plague. Much like the rest of those who inhabit the EWT. Fodder for the rats..
With his dark blue colored hair hanging in front of his face, a slight grin creeps it's way across Corpse's face. He keeps a firm grip upon Sum's shoulder
Corpse: A shallow husk without a trace of creativity. You fit in well here, with your brethren..your ilk. You have made Ghost Face so ill that he doesn't even wish to speak on this occasion. Instead, he has entrusted us to express his disappointment and disinterest.
Sum: I-I was going to ask him about Die Shiguya..
Corpse: Merely a plebeian insect. We offered him a chance to claw away the veil of his self induced prison and he declined. For such transgressions he may now freely rot in the bowels of hell..
Sum: A..And what about him? L-Lamont?
Sum looks down at Lamont who remains silent and unmoving, as if he truly were just a piece of furniture. Corpse rubs his palms together with Wraith only gives him brief glance and a smirk
Wraith: We don't know anybody named Lamont..
Corpse: Lamont no longer exists. No. Ghost Face has given him a new name. From this day forth he shall be known as Counterfeit. For that is what he truly is. He proclaimed and professed to have lived a harsh life of gang war fare, bullet shells, stabbing's..all a lie. A fabrication. He was a college educated man from a wealthy family..who were completely and utterly perfect. He decided to wear a mask, dumb down his identity for fame and wealth. A persona. No longer. Soon, his true self, his inner being shall be revealed..
Sum: A-And where is Karma right now?
Corpse's eyes roll backwards into his head, almost as if he were in a trance like state..
Corpse: Preparing. Preparing to dispose of Synthy Eris and claim her title as her own. ..Sleep well..sleep tight..
Wraith: ..I like watchin' two broads get ultra violent with each other..really makes my day, ya know? They really like it too..
Wraith nods his head eagerly without any further explanation on who "they" are. Sum isn't about to pry
Sum: W-What about potential challengers for his title?
Corpse: Who could possibly be worthy? Who could possibly stand against our bloodlust? Who of rotting soul and innards would dare challenge him? Another to follow under our sway? Nay, such a challenger does not exist. We intended to pick our target ourselves. Our ranks must grow stronger and stronger..our religion must be taught and memorized.
Sum: G-Ghost Face has a Dog Collar match against Roddy P--
Wraith and Corpse exchange glances before they begin to laugh
Wraith: ..He does?
Wraith reaches into his trench coat pocket and removes a dog collar, dripping with blood. He admires the red liquid, as does Corpse, both of their eyes lighting up
Wraith: ..'Ol Rowdy Roddy's probably already in the infirmary right about now..
Sum: I-Infimary?
Corpse: Yes. Third degree burns.
Corpse, with all the glee of a child torturing an ant with a magnify glass, produces a can of gas and a match. The pair look to Ghost Face who hisses out a response..
Ghost Face: ..Burn mother[expletive], burn..
Cackling wildly, Wraith and Corpse begin to stalk towards Sum who flee's with an accompanying scream. They follow him, slowly, never breaking stride or hurrying after. Like a slasher film horror movie. A smirk finally crosses Ghost Face's lips..
|
|
|
Post by Marcus Trunk on Nov 9, 2007 20:09:21 GMT -5
Marcus Trunk is standing backstage with "Lean" Gene Cummerbund.
Lean Gene: "Lean" Gene Cummerbund here backstage with Marcus Trunk, and Marcus, I have to say that it's great to see you back in EWT!
Trunk: Thank you, Gene. Now that I'm on my own, I plan to make an even bigger impact than in my tag team days.
Lean Gene: And indeed, you are certainly capable of that. Now that you're back in EWT, do you have any plans for the immediate future?
Trunk: Lean Gene, they say that you have to take life as it comes, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I plan on building myself up slow, step by step, until I reach the pinnacle of this company that is the EWT Heavyweight Championship. But recently I've noticed a guy around here by the name of Hardcore Hensley. I've seen some of his work in EWT and other promotions, and I'm impressed with what I've seen. And this week, he's issued a Hardcore Challenge to the EWT roster. Now, I haven't seen your work up close and personal, Hensley, but let me give you a rundown of my hardcore resume:
- Scaffold Tables match. Took a 40-foot drop with a 500-pound man on my shoulders. But I came back.
- Escalator to Heaven match. I took a dive off the escalator through a table, with a man on my shoulders, again. But I came back.
- TLC match. Took a ladder to the face. But I came back.
- And the pinnacle of it all: The Elimination Chamber. Had my head cut open with a spike and dropped on a metal floor. Needed 43 stitches. But I came back.
So Hardcore Hensley, I accept your Hardcore Challenge and look forward to meeting you in the ring. But don't think that you're going to catch me out of my element, because I've seen it all before. And I look forward to seeing it again.
Trunk exits.
Lean Gene: Looks like Marcus Trunk is back and ready for a fight. Look out Hardcore Hensley!
|
|
|
Post by Hensley on Nov 10, 2007 0:26:29 GMT -5
*Sum Guy is standing by with Hardcore Hensley.*
Sum Guy: Ladies and gents, I'm here with Hardcore Hensley. Hensley, your open challenge has been officially accepted by the returning, Marcus Trunk. What are your thoughts?
Hardcore Hensley: Ah, yes, Mr. Trunk. I might have skimmed through his biography a few times. Exceptional stature, unbelievable strength, the man's an ox! A whole herd of them, if you will!
*Sum Guy nods with much approval.*
Hensley: He's achieved great success as a tag team wrestler, and has had his fair share of bumps.
*Hensley pauses.*
Hensley: He's a former champ.
*Sum Guy nods once again.*
Sum Guy: So, what's the game plan, Hensley?
Hensley: Well, he's gotta height advantage on me, and some extra muscle that I wouldn't mind bartering for, but he's a power dude. While that may have it's own pluses, it also, like every other style, has it's weak points.
Sum Guy: Care to elaborate?
Hensley: Dude, have you like forgotten or something? I've flown around that ring more than any man my size. I've got the quicker feet in this match-up, and if I do say so myself, I've got the harder feet.
*Hensley slaps Sum Guy on the shoulder.*
Hensley: You know, my stiff kicks are lethal. I'm hoping that Mr. Trunk won't be expecting anything less, of course.
*Hensley shows his hands then walks off with a satisfying look across his face.*
Sum Guy: Well, there you go folks! Hardcore Hensley and Marcus Trunk, one on one, you can catch it live on PPV!
|
|
|
Post by teamireland on Nov 10, 2007 9:37:30 GMT -5
EWT ARENA-BACKSTAGE - OUTSIDE MAHAVIR ABHA'S LOCKER-ROOM
*Coach O'Hare & Sean McCann stand outside the dressing room of "The Bollywood Big Shot", Mahavir Abha.*
O'Hare: So you understand, right? I'll go in & hoke around & look for that tape. If you see anyone coming knock on the door & I'll hide. If I need you, I'll knock on the door, right?
Sean: Aye, got it.
O'Hare: And DON'T be thinking with your c***! I don't care if Synthy or Tiffany or Carla or whoever walks past! You're are to stay put 'til we get that tape, okay?
Sean: But come on... Some of those birds are well fit!
O'Hare: Look, if we get this tape, we'll head out to some night club & you can pull all the birds you want there! Okay?!
*O'Hare gingerly enters the room, making sure nobody's there & closes the door behind him. He looks on top of a chest of drawers, sorting through various make-up & hair styling tools... Nothing. He begins rifling through the drawers. He looks through items of clothing & pulls out one of Jasmyne's bras. He hastily stuffs it into his pocket. He's about to open another drawer when he hears a knock at the door... Where to hide? He looks into the En Suite bathroom... They'd be sure to notice him there. He sees a large closet & opens it. It's full of fancy suits & dresses; pushing a few of these aside, O'Hare enters. Shortly after O'Hare has clambered into the closet, Mahavir Abha & Jasmyne enter the room. "The Bollywood Big Shot" is preparing to enter the showers. Jasmyne dissapears around the corner & discards her clothes... Oh, My... Mahavir approaches the closet, presumably to get some toiletries. As he opens the cupboard, Coach O'Hare falls out.*
O'Hare: Aaaah... Mala Falahaha! What a surprise... FOR YOU, finding ME in your closet!
Mahavir: So, you have finally decided to come out of the closet, yes, yes, yes? HA-HA! Is a joke!
*We hear the shower start running in the background, evidently, Jasmyne has begun without Mahavir.*
O'Hare: Listen, shut up a second! Here, where's that tape of Liam's "secret"? And how much do you want for it? I'll give you £20 right now!
*O'Hare fishes in his pocket & removes a Northern Ireland £20 note. Mahavir looks at it quizically.*
Mahavir: That money is of no use outside of Northern Ireland & is certainly of no use to Mahavir. Mahavir is big star, has plenty of money. Your fake money is no good to me.
O'Hare: Then what will you take? I can get you Paulie Shore's autograph!
Mahavir: You mean THAT Paulie Shore?
*Mahavir points towards a photograph hanging on the wall. It is of himself & Paulie Shore in a bar sipping expensive cocktails. Scrawled on it are the words "TO MAHAVIR, STAY COOL, BUUUUUUUUDDY! PAULIE SHORE". O'Hare begins wandering around the room. He gives a light knock on the door.*
O'Hare: Well, I guess that's it. I have nothing more to offer you. If I can't bargain with you, you leave me no option but to steal the tape & watch it for myself.
*He walks back around to his original position, Mahavir's eyes follow him. As Mahavir turns his back to the door, Sean McCann sneaks in. He quietly shuts the door behind him. Before he can restrain Mahavir for the Coach, though, Sean glances in the direction of the shower. Noticing that Jasmyne is in the process of washing herself, Sean makes his way towards the shower.*
O'Hare: Where are you going you horny idiot?
*Mahavir turns & spots McCann.*
Mahavir: It is okay. Jasmyne, she likes a lot of company in the shower. Is just like in movie she made. Did you see it? Set in female prison? Yes, yes, yes?
O'Hare: Sean! You're NOT going in there!
Sean: But I was gonna score!
O'Hare: No you weren't.
Mahavir: But Jasmyne is... what do you say?... Big slut, yes? She take us all at once.
*He whistles for Jasmyne to join them. She walks into the frame still wet from the shower & wrapping a towel around her body.*
Mahavir: Like what you see, yes?
*O'Hare & McCann stand mesmerized. Mahavir has a few words with Jasmyne. We can't quite make them out, but they're certainly not English. Jasmyne takes a look at O'Hare & McCann & giggles. She looks back to Mahavir & shakes her head.*
Mahavir: Sorry, guys. I do what I can.
O'Hare: To hell with it. This isn't about your bitch! This is about that video of Liam. If you're not going to just hand it over... we may have to MAKE you do so!
*O'Hare & McCann leave the room. Mahavir shrugs his shoulders and turns to Jasmyne, who has her back towards the camera.*
Mahavir: Now, Jasmyne, where were we?
*With a sensual giggle, Jasmyne removes her towel, showing Mahavir the goods underneath. "The Bollywood Big Shot" flashes a pleased grin before looking to the camera.*
Mahavir: I like what I see, yes.
|
|
Vertigo
Mike the Goon
Let it be.
Posts: 15
|
Post by Vertigo on Nov 10, 2007 11:53:48 GMT -5
*Darkness. Absolute darkness. Complete darkness. Impossible to discern the environment. Impossible to understand the surroundings. Impossible. Amongst the darkness, a faint, orange flame ignites, lighting up a tiny area around it.*
*A pipe. Briar to be exact. Well-crafted. Faintly, in the dim, saddened light, a billow of smoke rises up, whisping into the surrounding air. Telling a tale all its own. A story...one impossible for humanity to comprehend.*
*A throat clears. The pipe pauses from billowing in an instant.*
"Good...evil. What does it matter. Morals do not care if you believe them or not. More importantly they are unable to do anything to you despite your actions. Karma. The belief itself is il-informed. There is no reaction from anything around you based upon your own. Everything that takes place is simply by chance, by circumstance. By control of the human race and the physical world around it."
*The pipe begins billowing again, only to stop mere moments later.*
"And fear. Fear. FEAR. Fear is what you take it as. Humanity desires to rule the world. To be the best. It is nature at work. Nothing for one to regret nor embrace. But all the power that humans possess, in their arrogance; they make a fatal error: they continue to let their fear best them in it all. They fear falling. They fear collapse. They fear failure. They fear it. But I....I am one that makes their fear manifest itself and come true. I...am their fear. I...am their poison. I...am their plight. I...am the one known as..................
VERTIGO.
"I am above good and evil. I am myself and rule my own spiritual dominion. Calamity has yet to occur to me, but I have induced it on others. My success is my need. My survival. Not to be the best. But to exist and live on."
*Faint light begins to rise about his face, revealing it. From the neck above, that is. Pale and almost grey. Purple hair extending down to his shoulders. Maybe lower. Very wavy. Eyes covered by massive, ebony goggles. Impossible to see anything they cover--eyes, eybrows, orbits, name it.*
"And I...Vertigo...have arrived."
*FADE OUT.*
|
|
|
Post by crauswell on Nov 10, 2007 14:24:15 GMT -5
The sounds of Real American strike up, as the crowd cheers loudly, as the Immortal, Hulk Hogan, struts out from the back to a nice pop from the nostalgic crowd, minus all the anti Hogan folks of course, as the bell sounds, signaling for this next contest.
Announcer: The following contest is a steel cage match! To win, you must either pin, make your opponent submit, or escape the cage. Introducing first, from Venice Beach California, weighing in at 275 pounds, Hulk Hogan!!!
Hulk keeps strutting down to the ring, doing all his signature stuff, only to suddenly get grabbing from behind, as Crauswell charges full speed, grabbing him by the skull and driving him face first into the steel cage! Hulk gasps, dropping on both knees, as the furry shoves him by the back of his head into the cage, delivering a series of brutal knees to the skull, as the crowd looks on in horror, the furry yanking the Immortal one back up, then hoisting him high, stepping back, then driving him spine first into the cage! Hogan looks on in pure agony, as the furry grabs him by his head of "hair" and yanks him to the door, kicking the steel cage door open, then chucking Hogan inside! He walks over, yanking him up by the head again, then driving it once again into the cage, causing Hogan to slump down to the mat. Craus shoves him hard down into the mat, then starts stomping the living crap out of him, focusing mainly on the face area, as Hogan clutches it desperately trying to protect himself.
Crauswell looks down, glaring, as he yanks Hogan back up, sending him off the ropes, then charging and delivering a sickening Yakuza kick, knocking Hogan down hard. He walks back over, tugging him up instantly by the throat, then running off the ropes, charging full speed for a lariat, Hogan however managing to duck underneath, turning around and lifting the boot, which Craus catches, then kicks Hogan down to the mat, as he grabs Hogan by that leg, stomping relentlessly at it, pulling up, then yanking down hard with a leg breaker, as Hogan screams in pain! The furry pulls the Hulkster back up in his grip, hoisting him high, then driving him back down on that leg with a shin breaker, Hogan grasping desperately at the area. The furry then walks back to the door cage, running and leaping, landing atop the barricade, some impressively agility shown for the big man, as he walks over to the timekeeper table, snatching up a steel chair, then tossing it with ease back into the ring, walking back along the barricade and hopping back into the ring, not wanting to end this match just yet... if you can call it that.
The furry scoops up the chair, sitting it up in the middle of the ring, then watching as Hogan rises up, limping bit, Craus charging and planting him with a merciless STO. Hogan's head bounces hard off the mat, as he clutches it in pain, the gryphon letting out a loud roar of sorts, then grabbing him by the throat, dropping him uncerimoniously atop the chair with a Beak Buster, folding it back out the hard way, as Hogan slumps over in the chair, then rolling off to the mat. Crauswell looks down close, glaring right at him.
Craus: HULK UP OUT OF THAT!!!
The furry grabs the chair once again, which is quite useless now, dropping it into the center of the ring, as he picks Hogan back up, charging full speed and driving his back right into the steel, causing him to scream in pain, before the furry hefts him up, lifting him high for a Brainbuster DDT, then walking over and dropping him atop the steel chair, with a sickening thud! The crowd looks on in horror, booing relentlessly, as the furry puts a foot atop him, for the cover. 1...2....
3.
This sick affair is over... thank god.
Announcer: Here... here is your winner... "The Cidal Force" Crauswell!
Crauswell walks out of the ring, leaping down and having both feet touch the ground officially, as the crowd boos quite loudly, shocked at this sickening display. The furry steps over to the announcer, snatching up the microphone and looking around the arena.
Crauswell: I HAVE ASSERTED MYSELF ONCE AGAIN! Tonight... I issue an open invitation to a personal hell, from which there is no escape. I challenge anyone in the back, the front, or out here this very moment, to come and track me down. I'm looking for some prey at Season's Beatings... and I'll take anyone on that wants to set foot in their own grave!
Flock Off starts up as the furry drops the microphone, heading towards the back once again, as we cut to Hogan, twitching in agony on the mat, lucky to even be alive from this assault.
|
|
The Line
Patti Mayonnaise
Real Name: Bumkiss. Stanley Bumkiss.
Peanut Butter & JAAAAAMMMM!
Posts: 36,698
|
Post by The Line on Nov 10, 2007 14:48:34 GMT -5
* “The Truth” by Beanie Seagal plays, as Homicide makes his way down to the ring. The crowd pops very loudly for him:
Ring Announcer: Making his way to the ring, from Bed-Stuy Do or Die Brooklyn, New York, weighing in at 220 pounds, “The Notorious 187” HOMICIDE!
*As Homicide steps into the ring, the lighting chances to a very familiar red and black, as “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin begins to play. “Insecticidal” Andy Duke, decked out in a extravagant robe.
Ring Announcer: And his opponent, from Chewelah, Washington, weighing in at 215 pounds, he is the Captain of The Cidal Squad, “Insecticidal” Andy Duke.
*Both men are in the ring, and the ref signals for the bell to be sounds to signal the starting of this match-up. Both these men are similarly sized, are fast, and can brawl with the best of them. This match-up should be interesting. Very even.
*Duke starts things-off with a headlock, but Homicide reverses it with an Irish whip. When Duke rebounds, Homicide dropkicks Duke, who rolls to the outside. Homicide wants to fly early in this match, and he does, as he goes for a TOPE SUICIDA!
*But Duke is able to move out of the way, and Homicide hits his back hard on the floor! *That may be the end of this match-up. Duke really wants to get a win here, especially after losing to his stablemate at the last PPV. Duke rolls the Homicide back into the ring, and goes for a pin.
1
2
KICKOUT!
*Duke appears to be angry now after Homicide kicked out. He picks Homicide up and Irish whips him, and off the rebound, hits him with huge LARIAT! Duke goes up to the top rope…450 Splash!
1
2
3
Ring Announcer: Here is your winner by pinfall, “Insecticidal” Andy DUUUUKE!!!
*This was a very quick, dominating match-up that Duke won thanks to the big risk that didn’t pan out for Homicide. I guess that’s why they call them “High Risk”. The win has definitely got to be what Duke was looking for tonight to get him back on the winning track, after the PPV, and his girlfriend issues. Duke grabs a microphone.
Duke: Cut the music! Now… usually I’d make an announcement such as this surrounded by my friends and comrades, but this couldn’t wait any longer. I’m gonna be blunt here. The last few months have been a bit rocky for me and my friends. Ragnal retiring, Jonathan and I bowing out of the Tag scene, Alexa not really making the impact in the GNA division that we would have hoped. Crauswell seems to be the only one on target still. But anyway, from this point on, I plan on changing that….Now, what makes a good stable? Is it sheer dominance? Strength in Numbers? Pure Bad-assery? No, it’s a combination of those things plus being able to have all your bases covered. Ever since Mike left and the end of our tag domination, that has been our biggest problem, it seems. Most stables would just up and disband at that point.
*The Crowd begins to chant “DISBAND!” over and over again.
Duke: But not the Cidal Squad! Oh No! Just the opposite in-fact. That is why I want to announce the official opening of a new chapter in the Cidal Squad story. Starting next week, you will be introduced to many new faces here in EWT, 12 to be exact, comprising of 6 2-man teams coming from all parts of the United States, and even one coming from another continent. These 6 teams will compete over the coming weeks, with the winners not only receiving EWT contracts, but also coveted spots in the Cidal Squad. So next week, in a series of quick interviews, the World shall be introduced to the 12 men competing in the.. First Annual Cidal Squad Tag Team Invitational Championship Series.
*Duke drops the microphone and leaves the ring.
|
|
TJT
AC Slater
It's fun to be perfect.
Posts: 109
|
Post by TJT on Nov 10, 2007 16:26:26 GMT -5
*TJT look up at a TV monitor backstage.*
Thunder: I preferred when they had the dancing bear and Bob Hope's clone on the team.
Jupiter: Oh yes, I do recall. Then they proceeded to mudhole stomp Bozo the Clown as "Call Me" played over the speakers at quadruple speed and Yo Yo Ma made a sex tape with Al Snow!
Thunder: Buttsecks?
Jupiter: Damn straight.
Thunder: OH...MY...GOD~! FIVE STAR STUFF!
Terina: *giggles for a moment* Really though...Jason, what did you have to leave for when you bolted out of the room?
Jupiter: Long story. It SHOULD rid us of those insufferable two called..."Raft-Shack"...and get the #1 contendership on a team that doesn't make me want to bash my head in with a sharpened wooden object!
Terina: They're not that bad...
Jupiter: To you? Maybe not. But you're a chilled out babe. ME?
Terina: Oh yes, you. The guy that almost suffers an anurism if the shower is cold.
Jupiter: EG-ZACTLY!
Thunder: Well, whatever you have in mind, it's probably going to work. Hey, you see that..uh...Vertigo guy?
Jupiter: Pfffft. No way he's the same Vertigo. He's totally different. Bah. I say...FORGET him.
Terina: Definitely. Now you two need to go train. You may have had a match at Survival of the Fittest, but that's no excuse to avoid training.
Thunder: Yeah, seriously. I weigh one pound LESS than I did then. That's lost muscle mass. OH MY GOD! I'M GONNA BE A FREAKIN' STRAW-WEIGHT! TO THE GYM!
Terina: And um...we'll take the limo. Cause I'm not getting in a car with one of you two driving. Not after yesterday.
Jupiter: Alcohol-induced insanity breeds more alcohol-induced insanity! What else can I say?
*The three walk off, talking to themselves as the camera fades out.*
|
|