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Post by Ronnie L. Cordova on Jul 28, 2007 19:49:58 GMT -5
Michael Cole: “I’m Michael Cole alongside my broadcast partner JBL, and tonight we’re going to witness the debut of Ronnie L. Cordova, the rollerdisco frat boy, as he faces a legendary Ronnie, “Rugged” Ronnie Garvin!”
JBL: “Cole, I really have mixed feelings on this kid. He likes to party and he can hold his liquor, but I’m not digging the rollerdisco thing. Seems kinda fruity to me.”
Cole: “In any case, this should be a good match. Let’s throw it to Lillian Garcia for ring intros!”
(Ronnie Garvin comes out to no music, but a few nostalgia pops. The former NWA champ rolls into the ring and waits for his opponent.)
Lillian Garcia: “In the ring, from Montréal, Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 231 lbs.! “Rugged” Ronnie Garvin!”
(Garvin waves at the crowd as he gets a few more nostalgia pops.)
JBL: “Cole, this is a legend right here. Not only is he a former NWA World Heavyweight Champion, he bested Ric Flair for the belt!”
Cole: “It seems Mr. Cordova has his work cut out for him in this match!”
Lillian: “And making his EWT debut…”
(Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue” starts up and Ronnie L. Cordova skates onto the stage.)
Lillian: “From Jeffersonville, Indiana, now residing on the University of Indiana campus, weighing in at 253 lbs. Ronnie L. Cordova!”
(The crowd is mixed with boos and cheers. The boos seem to be louder, but Ronnie is too drunk to realize it and acts like he is being cheered overwhelmingly. He has two beers left out of a six pack he’s carrying, not including the one he’s drinking.)
JBL: “I’m sorry Cole, I just can’t do it. As much as I applaud him for his beer drinking capabilities, I can’t get past the fruity rollerdiscoskating thing.”
(Cordova foregoes taking the skates off, and chooses to keep them on for the match. Garvin looks frustrated.)
Garvin: “What the hell is this? You’re a disgrace to wrestling!”
Cordova: “Dude, chill. It’s cool. Have a brewski!”
(Bell dings to start the match)
Garvin instead of taking the beer, trips Cordova, removes a skate, and bashes him over the head with it, drawing a DQ!
(The bell dings.)
Lillian: “Your winner as a result of a disqualification, Ronnie L. Cordova!”
JBL: “Bahhahahahahahahahahahhhhhhhhh! CLASSIC, COLE! CLASSIC! 5 STARS! MATCH OF THE YEAR! HAHAHAHAHA!”
Cole: “I don’t exactly think that was the way Ronnie L. Cordova wanted to debut!”
JBL: “Well I’m pretty sure now that the “L” in Ronnie L. Cordova stands for “Loser!” BAHAHAHAHAHA!”
(Garvin continues to bash Cordova over the head with the skate, and even uses the skate to do the Garvin Stomp, rather than actually stomping. Garvin leaves Cordova in the ring a bloody mess. To add insult to injury, Garvin steals the rest of his beer before heading back up the ramp. Fade to commercial.)
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The Line
Patti Mayonnaise
Real Name: Bumkiss. Stanley Bumkiss.
Peanut Butter & JAAAAAMMMM!
Posts: 36,698
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Post by The Line on Jul 28, 2007 23:32:36 GMT -5
We are taken to a previously recorded match, taped in front of a packed house at the Liverpool Olympia in Liverpool, England.
Some generic in house TNA music plays, and Bobby Cruise gets on the mic.
Bobby Cruise: Making her way to the ring, from Toronto, Canada, Gail Kim!
The lighting scheme turns to pink and black, as the opening guitar solo for “She Is Beautiful” by Andrew WK is played. Alexa King comes out to the ring.
Cruise: Making her way to the ring now, from Chewelah, Washington, “The First Lady of the Cidal Squad”, Alexa King!
As both women make their way towards the center of the ring, the ref goes over the rules. This will be a normal match under regular rules. You can win by Pinfall, Submission, DQ, and there is a 10-count on the floor. This match will have a 30-minute time limit. The ref signals to the time-keeper, the bell rings, and here we go!
Gail Kim, a former WWE Women’s champ, currently taking the majority of her bookings in TNA taking on the debuting Alexa King. This match is taking place in England due to special request of King, so she could accompany her stable mates as they prepare to take on Paul Birchall and Dave Taylor.
King and Kim lock up in the center of the ring, and Kim is able to get the early advantage with a headlock. But before she can synch, King pushes on Kim’s back, sending her into the ropes. As Gail bounces off, King hits her with a BIG back body drop. She flips Gail to her stomach, and takes a play out of Randy Orton’s playbook, and locks in a rear chin-lock.
Alexa still has the lock in, but Gail starts to stir. Alexa changes it to a headlock, as Gail gets to one knee. Gail hits 3 elbows, right to the uterus! But both the chin-lock and the headlock have taken a little out of Gail, and it takes her a few seconds to mount an offense.
Gail hit’s a clothesline, and as Alexa gets back up, Gail hits another clothesline. But Alexa gets up again, and again, a clothesline by Kim. This one is able to keep Ms. King down for a bit longer.
Gail awaits King’s rising from the canvas, and hits her with a ROUGH Tornado DDT. This could be the opening that she is looking for, and she wastes no time getting up to the top rope. However, when she gets up there, she takes her time deciding what she is going to do. Looks like she is deciding on a moonsault. She turns around, and as she prepares to dive off the top rope, King is able to awaken from her temporary lack of consciousness, unbeknownst to Kim, jumps up to the 2nd rope, and hit’s a German suplex! The ref starts a double 10-count, as both women lay motionless on the mat.
1 2 3 4 5
Gail and Alexa both start to stir.
6 7 8
Alexa uses the ropes to bring herself to her feet, as Gail gets to one knee. Alexa, with a sudden surge of strength, and hits Kim with a Shining Wizard! She must have learned that from Duke. Alexa hoists Gail off the mat, kicks her in the stomach, and hits her with the AK-47! King hooks the leg.
1 2 3
Alexa King puts on a great showing in her debut, as she pulls out the victory over a very accomplished Gail Kim. Andy Duke comes down to the ring to celebrate her first win here in EWT.
Bobby Cruise: Here is your winner, Alexa King!
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Smarky
Mike the Goon
Posts: 14
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Post by Smarky on Jul 29, 2007 1:41:36 GMT -5
[Smarky is standing by backstage with Tard Grisham]
Tard: Hello, ladies and gentlemen of EWT, I'm Tard Grisham, and I'm standing by backstage with the one and only Smarky!
Smarky: Thank you Tard. Now, as most of you know, I am now known as the hottest young prospect in all of EWT. Now, for you clueless Joe Sixpacks and Jane Double D's out there, I have, with me, the latest edition of EWT Monthly...
Tard: There is no such thing as EWT Monthly...
Smarky: Then obviously you're not in the Official Super Duper Secret EWT Inner Circle. Only we get EWT Monthly. Take that!
[Silence]
Smarky: OK, now ask me if you can get in.
Tard: [Sighs] Can I-
Smarky: NO! Because you're a loser-face! [Smarky laughs to himself]
Tard: Ooookay, anyway....the magazine?
Smarky: Of course, my lovely Tard.
[Smarky produces what appears to be a bunch of construction paper clumsily stapled together. The header, written in crayon, reads "Smarky: The Future of Mostly Evereything" and features a cut out picture of Smarky giving a thumbs up]
Tard: You made that yourself.
Smarky: Did not.
Tard: The staples are falling off.
Smarky: Are not. [Stoops to pick up a staple]
Tard: You misspelled "everything".
Smarky: Did not!
Tard: It's written in crayon!
Smarky: It's art, Tard! It's a metaphor for the longings that we feel for our youth!
Tard: That doesn't change the fact that it's written in crayon...
Smarky: Bite me. The only reason you're even here right now is because I forced EWT to hire your lazy ass.
Tard: Plus no one else can stand you.
Smarky: That is not true! It's also a lie!
Tard: Moving on! Smarky, you are making your EWT PPV debut at Old School by taking on Andy Davidson and John Valentine while teaming with Virus. What are your thoughts?
Smarky: [Takes off sunglasses with a nostalgic look on his face] Well first of all Tard, I just want to say that finally being a part of EWT history was my biggest dream. When I was a little boy growing up in the mean streets of Des Moines, I always dreamed of being an EWT superstar.
Tard: But EWT wasn't even formed until around 2005.
Smarky: What's your point?
Tard: Well it doesn't make any sense...oh screw it. Just keep talking.
Smarky: Don't mind if I do. Now, I haven't as of yet actually met Virus, but I've seen what he's done to John Valentine and believe me Tard m'boy, if he pulls that same stuff in the ring at Old School, I am firm in the belief that we will come away with the Big W.
Tard: But what of your opponents? Aren't there any factors working in their favor?
Smarky: Oh, you mean The Kitten and The Canary? Why should I be scared of either of them? I've seen Valentine in action. I main evented an indy show he worked at. The guy lets his emotions get the best of him too easily. Piss him off and he gets unfocused. Simple as that. And Davidson? The man's theme music is made by Fall Out Boy! I'd be better off beating up Pete Wentz! Wait...why aren't I beating up Pete Wentz?
Tard: Because it's illegal?
Smarky: Oh yeah. Forgot. But anyhoo, back to the task at hand. In two weeks, at Old School, after my tag match, I guarentee you that the men whose hands are being raised will be Virus and EWT's own Raja of the Ring, Monarch of the Microphone, and Emperor of Entertainment, Smarky. Now if you'll excuse me Tard, I have a massage appointment.
[Smarky wanders off camera humming Owner of a Lonely Heart]
Tard: Well folks, I guess that about does it here backstage. So many questions left to be answered. Who will come out the victor at Old School? Will Smarky be able to keep his ego in check with Virus? Will Smarky actually remember who Virus is? Will Smarky actually remember when the Pay-Per-View is? And the ultimate question...what the hell have I gotten myself into? I'm Tard Grisham, goodnight.
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Post by Tha Kid Joker on Jul 29, 2007 5:16:46 GMT -5
The camera moves about the arena, getting close-ups on the fans in attendance for a while. Without warning, an airy musical note plays from the speakers as the lights in the arena turn a gold-ish color. Knowing this note, the fans turn their head to the stage just as the very familiar Italian intro plays and white lights swirl in circles. Following the intro, a few lines of bass and Eminem's, "People! It feels so good to be back!" is heard, and the swirling lights all center into a single spotlight right in the center of the stage. "Square Dance" starts playing in full swing as the reigning EWT Ox-Division Champion, Cassinova, steps out into the spotlight to boos. One's first guess would be that he's out here for his match with Matt Striker, but him being in his street clothes seems to prove otherwise. Sporting his usual gear: Dark blue Affliction shirt with red symbols, dark blue pants with his red dragon logo on the side, a snow cap, and sunglasses, he holds his Ox-Division title on his shoulder and walks down to the ring before climbing into it.
Already in the ring is an announcer holding a microphone. The man looks to be deciding whether to announce Cassinova or not, but Cassinova decides for him when he snatches his microphone and points outside of the ring. The announcer sighs and exits the ring as Cassinova takes off his sunglasses and looks back to the booing fans. He waits for them to quiet down a bit, but after about thirty seconds of continuous booing, he tries to speak over them
Cassinova: Well... I'd hate to say I told you so, but... (Holds up Ox-Division title.) I told you so!
More boos from the crowd.
Cassinova: Oh, come on people! Lighten up! Tonight is a very joyous occasion! This is my first night wrestling after retaining my title against "Jumping" Johnny Jupiter! That means I'm about due for my monthly celebration!
Still boos, with some of the crowd wondering where he's going with this.
Cassinova: Some of you hicks sound confused. I said, I'm about due for my monthly celebration! (Boos.) I doubt you know what I mean, so I'll just elaborate. I think I should step up from now on. People keep b****ing that I'm not around enough around here, so I've taken on some extra duties. Yes, that's right, you guessed it... I am the new official spokeperson of EWT!
Loud boos from the crowd.
Cassinova: Well, not really. I just made that up. But... I can give my thoughts on what's going on in EWT today. Yeah! I think I'll do that! Therefore, as the most talented and underrated person on the roster... and also as the holder of the most important title on this planet... I now declare that it is within my duty...
He puts his sunglasses back on and pulls a stack of notecards out of his pocket.
Cassinova: ...To give Cassinova's State of the EWT Address '07! (The crowd is in a state of confusion, but boo anyway since Cassinova said it.) ...People have been dying to know what I think of everything that has been going on in EWT lately: The roster, the feuds, the rumors, etceteria. So, due to a lack of a better way to spend my time since I can't find Jewelry anywhere... why not address them all at once? Right? Let's begin, shall we!
He opens his mouth to begin reading from the cue cards, before stopping and shaking his head.
Cassinova: No, wait wait... I can't do this.
The audience breathes a sigh of relief.
Cassinova: What would I, the fastest rising and most entertaining person on this roster look like giving a formal speech... without a podium? (Exasperated groans from the crowd.) Right? Well... luckily for me, a certain someone never fully understands the power of a contractual obligation, and thus will continue to be punished. So... if... erm... whatshername can get her ass out here with my goddamned podium, we can start this thing off proper.
Cassinova walks to the ropes farthest away from the ramp and leans against him, waiting for his goddamned podium. After a short while of waiting boredly, the lights flicker to a purple-ish color and "Ghostflowers" starts to play. The crowd breaks into a definite cheer as from the back, Synthy Eris walks out. She drags behind her a faux golden podium, which leaves a golden trail of plastic dust behind it.
Cassinova: Wait, hold on... cut the damned music off! She doesn't get a flipping entrance! She had her screen time this week, it's my turn!
The music abruptly cuts off and the lights return to normal. Synthy doesn't seem to care as she drags his podium behind her, before tossing it into the ring. She begins to climb in after it, and Cassinova once again puts the microphone to his lips.
Cassinova: You're going beyond the call of duty here, Synthetic. I think I can set the podium up by myself, but than...
He is cut off by Synthy knocking the microphone from his face and steps right up to him. She stares at him coldly as he blinks back, his uncomfortability apparent.
Cassinova: So... uh... what? Are you going to throw your job away and hit me now? (Starting to feel confident again.) Hah, you going to flip your wig and get yourself canned? I'm trying to be nice by letting you walk around in those sex-kitten goth clothes you've been wearing instead of that Monroe outfit. You're going to let Jewelry wear her stipulation clothing, and you ass out on the deal? Some friend you are. But... since you're already here, pick my podium up. I've got a speech to deliver.
Synthy just continues to stare menacingly at him. Cassinova takes a slow step backwards and looks unsure towards Synthy.
Cassinova: A-all right, Eris, you don't have to set up the podium. J-just leave... (Once again thinking about the "power" he has over her and regaining his confidence.) Yeah... yeah! Just leave! No one came here to see you! All of these people can to hear me talk! You'll have more time to prove how stale and mediocre you are next week, chickie. Later!
Cassinova attempts to shoo her away, but Synthy takes a few slow steps toward him. Once again in his face, she slowly leans forward to the side of his head, cupping her hands around her mouth and his ear, whispering something. The color drains from Cassinova's face as she whispers, and she eventually turns around and exits the ring, as Cassinova stares blankly into space. Synthy walks up the ramp and to the back as some ring attendants set the podium up for Cassinova. He tries to shake off whatever dream-haunting thing Synthy said to him as he makes his way to his "golden" podium for his address. The camera gets a view of the front of the podium, revealing a sticker of Cassinova goofily holding a thumbs up and grinning like a moron. He stands behind the podium and holds his notecards in his hands.
Cassinova: (Clearing throat.) Uh... wow. Hm... let's see... I guess I should... begin now.
Cass looks around himself, kind of paranoid-like, before staring back down at his notecards and looking at the first one.
Cassinova: Jack Jupiter... the kid put up a hell of a fight this past event. Too bad he tried to shoot for the stars and end up throwing everything away. And imagine what how much his ass would have gotten kicked if I wasn't down with the flu, a fever, and had two broken femurs that day! Better luck next time, Jackie. You'll need it.
He throws the card over his shoulder. It flutters and lands behind him.
EWT is kickin' it old school, apparently! Makes sense, since everyone around here is like, 43 years old. I like Toom E. and all, but come on! Champions lose in a DQ or count-out? That is so not sexy! Just because Grandpa Death wants to live nostalgic, doesn't mean everyone has to. Here's some advice: Watch some old tapes. Wrestle "old-style" matches with your classic action figures! Do whatever, but don't bring the entire roster into it!
Throws notecard over shoulder.
Synthy Eris... kill yourself.
Rips notecard into two pieces and throws them over shoulder.
Speaking of lame people and death, I'm just now taking notice to this stable around here. I suppose you could call it a stable. It is full of asses and bulls***. They call themselves the Drow-ger or something. Bunch of tortured souls who don't know how to roll with the punches in life, so they paint their face and pretend like the sky is falling all the time. You know the type. Listen to a weird combination of Simple Plan and GWAR. Anyway... I looked at some of their videos... and I can't believe you people haven't called them out yet. I mean, come on, who the hell are these guys? A bunch of little phoney badasses who probably used to torture little animals when they were bored in their gated suburban neighborhoods? Ran away from home when their parents didn't buy them that Super Nintendo Game and decided that they were going to become little shock-rock thugs? Yeah, seems like it. Has all of the necessary ingredients. Always blame people who are "prettier", more accepted, and obviously more talented than them whenever something goes wrong. "Oh... they shunned us! They... they are afraid of our potential! They just want to hold us down!" No, you're wrong. No one cares enough to hold you down, I'm sorry to say. Hm... hah, you know who these guys remind me of? Those drama queen, "woe-is-me" kids in high school who wear eye-liner and put on red blush to make it seem like they've been crying recently. I hated those kids. "Why do the popular guys treat us like we're different?!" Don't you want to be different? And c'mon, of course people are going to look at you weird, you're wearing girl's make-up. Think about it.
Lastly, I'll just say this to you: Kidnapping is wrong, even if it's some lame's hot sister. And stop thinking you're better than everybody else or somebody owes you something just because you pretend to be undead zombies. That, if anything, just makes you all nerds who believe that the stuff you see on music videos is reality. My daddy never hugged me either. Grow up.
Crumples card and tosses it behind his back, out of the ring. Cassinova stares at the next card blankly.
Hm... Generation Tech broke up since that Spitz guy left the company. No big loss. Not like anyone even knew who they were, anyway.
Card over shoulder.
Speaking of unknown people... uh... CAP... who? Is that a gangsta' rap group? Do they have the most obvious catch-phrase ever? "We gon' bust a CAP in yo' ass!" Shame, really. I guess not everybody can be as creative and innovative as C-Nova himself.
Tosses this card over his shoulder as well.
Terina... if you aren't going to wear the damned earrings, give them back.
Card-tossed.
Spyke Johannson... I know since Spitz left and you had to face the fact that you're a singles wrestler for life now, thus dooming your career, you probably have been torn apart inside. I bet you still dance away like the fool that you are, but inside, I know "Emo Kid" Spyke Johannson wants to break free once more. Let your emotions flow Spyke. Let them flow.
And remember, when you're attempting to end by way of wrist-splitting, it's up the street, not across the road. Make it count.
Card over shoulder.
Speaking of which... Synthy Eris... kill yourself.
Next card.
Eris, if you're still watching, you haven't killed yourself yet. Please, do so now, I'll wait.
Cassinova stops and stands still, crossing his arms and tapping his foot a few times. After about fifteen seconds, he tosses the card and continues.
I pity Joe Ragnal for having to listen to that irritating voice and blind himself on that neon hair every day of his life. That man may be a douchebag, but he deserves a raise.
Throws card away.
So... I got online on the internetz the other day, and came across something called "EWT Ratings." Where basically, people who think they know something about anything rate how you are as a wrestler and entertainer as a whole. I don't need to state what I was rated, but let me read some of the people who were rated over me:
Crauswell. Kicked his ass. Clipped his wings. Out-talked him. Out-wrestled him. No more to say about that.
Mike Ragnal: What's his thing anyway? Elementcidal? Is he a firefighter? Fire's an element, right? Whatever. He's champ, I'll let this one pass.
Jobber McF***ingJobberston: Let's be honest, people. I think either the guy who wrote that was kidding, he's mentally inept, or it was Jobby himself that wrote it. Either way, he deserves to get his ass kicked. Some loser who never does anything right and wishes that it was still 1988? That just makes him the MC Hammer of EWT! Two choices, McJobberston. Get a life, or please, do us all a favor and end your own. These people only feel sorry for you. Nobody's laughing with you.
Axel Halaway: .....
...
...
...Hah! Hahaha! Hahahaha!
He goes into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, staring down at the next name on the card. He suddenly stops and his face straightens out, as he stares harder.
...Wait, that's not funny. Somebody rated, Axel "My life sucks and I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, please feel sorry for me and shower me with your undergarments" Halaway over ME?! That bland doofus who has stared up at the ceiling more often than Ivy Rosepine in a hotel room gets a higher rating than me?! Is this guy sniffing 409? You're saying that if you saw an Axel match on one channel and a Cassinova match on another, you'd watch his? If you saw Axel talking on one channel and me talking on another, you'd listen to him? Why even bother? You can ignore him and not miss anything at all. Seriously. What does he have to say other than, "I'm going to finally beat you this Sunday! Grrr!"
And as for his matches, here's a spoiler: He loses.
The WP as a whole were rated above me as well. That's a joke. They're even worse together. And don't me that "Unintentionally funny mix-matched team" crap either. Maybe if Axel snaps again and beats the hell out of Jobby in front of his fan club and the Jobberston family, I'll start liking them. Well, I probably won't. But that'll be the closest they can come to entertaining me.
Ratings: Hm... can't really argue with that. I'll give credit where credit is due.
ape: Some hippy with a complex gets a higher rating than me. Yeah, first off, space out your words and stop letting them run together. In America, that's wrong. Second, uh... try to show up every now and then? If I can get points deducted for not being around often, so can your fat ass. Third... well, I have never really watched your stuff, so I have no ammo. I'll just end this generically and tell you to join the nearest suicide pact.
Curly Long: Ah... that lovable little bastard. I can't pick on him. He's so adorable! Whoever had the idea that kids should be allowed on the roster, I salute them. First, little Undertaker girl. Now this. Brilliance.
Spaz: ...Spaz? I thought his name was Spitz? Whatever, Spitz is much cooler. I like that name... Spitz. Spitzo. Sounds familiar. Whatev. I'm glad this douche packed up his Steve Irwin lunchbox and moved his ass back to Kangaroo-ville. He's been hogging the spotlight for way too long. Least he knew when to get out! Once he saw Cass was leading a new generation to take over, he jumped ship like we hit an iceberg!
Let's see... Team Ireland...? Over me? Yeah, right. I love these guys and all, but come on! Four, five, six, however the hell many there are drunks don't even come close to being as great as yours truly. Team Ireland definitely aren't piss break material, Axel Halaway, but to say that they're better than me? Ludicrous.
Raft Shack... who? Sounds like a psychadelic metal band to me. I'll check them out later whenever I get around to re-downloading LimeW.... I mean.... whenever I get to the record store.
TJT: ...no comment. Jupe and Thunder already know the deal. Terina is slowly coming around. Cassinova = 10. TJT = 9.999. Bank on that.
Hm... I think that this sad, sad list is complete n... oh... s***....
Synthy frickin' Eris?! SHE got rated over ME?! Are you kidding me? That same lame schtick every segment. Hints towards her tormented past to get people interested. Baits and switches with some stupid current event that she overreacts to. Somebody thinks that some psycho who believes that every girl who gets a little touching up should be strangled is a better entertainer than me? Some hypocrite with dyed hair who constantly b****es about people who aren't "natural"? Some chick who thinks that if a girl makes the decision to get some surgery to make herself look better, she's a tramp and doesn't deserve to live? Oh, and god forbid she wrestle! Because wrestling is such a pure, sanctified sport! Please don't let them hire any attractive models to actually, you know, appeal to people and get people to watch the show! Because making money is bad! Booo... everyone should be broke, yet entertaining. Sorry, Synthetic. Not everyone is your beloved CHIKARA. Some people actually would like to make a living. Screw making these fickle, opinionated, b****y, bum-ass broke "hardcore" wrestling fans happy. I'd rather make millions of casual wrestling fans happy and make millions doing it.
But perhaps I think differently than you.
Cassinova rips the card into four sections and tosses them all behind his back, moving on.
Indie 103.1 in California... if you play "Teenagers" one more time, I swear to god, I will be at each one of your individual houses, with three CIA officials, shooting you in the head.
Card over shoulder. The deck is beginning to shallow out.
Notecards are a really cheap and useful thing to have.
Notecard over shoulder.
Some new guy from China is on the roster. Dee-shookuh, I wanna' say? Yeah, that's it. Anyway, at first I was kind of excited because there might actually be a guy who could coherently challenge me for this title. Unfortunately, seems like that guy would be better suited for the GND division. Did you hear that guy's lyrics? Good lord, anyone who writes something like that deserves every ass-beating he's ever gotten in his life. And with a face like that, he's probably gotten a lot. Tsk.
Notecard.
Okay, this isn't on the notecard, but this guy on the ramp is really starting to creep me out!
The camera cuts to Spectre, who sits still, staring forward at Cassinova. Before now, he has not been noticed.
Seriously, dude. Quit it. It's not even funny. Everybody here knows how hot I am, but I'm starting to believe that you're undressing me with your eyes. And stuff like that makes me a sad panda, so find someone else to stalk.
He shivers a bit and stares down at the next notecard.
Hm... oceanic. You've been around for a while, and by now, we get it. You can fight dudes and beat them. Everyone knows and accepts it, so please stop mentioning it. Also, the fact that you don't capitalize the first letter of your name is kinda' strange. With that said, drop that funky Mail-Storm guy and get with someone who doesn't think he's Aquaman and on three types of horse steroids and low-grade beaver tranquilizers.
Card over shoulder.
Oh, and back to that Synthy chick. Man, this deck is just loaded with her name. Seems as if she's the most wanted guy in EWT! Joey Raggle is her manager, it seems. Is that what they do around here in EWT? Can't get a girlfriend and nobody likes you anymore since your colleagues outshine you, so you go out and try to get a diamond in the rough to save your sad, pitiful career? Who are you, Dr. Dre? Well, since I hear you're facing ol' Jay McJay at the PPV, it's obvious you're nowhere near the title scene. Well, how's about I give a title to you?
"Joe Ragnal: The guy Cassinova recognized as the person who is officially the farthest away from being as good as him." Sounds prestigious, no? Aww, don't like it? Whatev. At least now Joey has somebody to talk about geeky dancing games with and get tips on what cream to use when you have that "No-so-fresh feeling."
Ah, speaking of douchebags, I hear Chad Michaels is still chasing Eris as well! I always knew the kid was hiding something, and I often made fun of him, but even I wouldn't have guessed that he was gay. Or at least close to it. Synthy is about as low as you can go without being considered a homosexual. But hey, there's nothing wrong with that. I'm open-minded, I don't care. But I just couldn't be you. I mean, getting your ass handed to you by a guy, then having to watch as he shot to stardom while you disappear into a crowd of seven people who are exactly the same as you with just as generic names and just as blatant rip-off gimmicks... that sucks, man. And now while I'm with five or six lovely ladies, you're stuck being turned down by Synthetic Hair-is? Hah! Yeah, you and Synthy can form a suicide pact. No one wants to see those ugly and sexually confused kids or their attrocious hair. Or better yet, maybe Chad and Joey will have an argument on who's the least masculine and who Synthy would like more, kill eachother, and literally kill two extremely annoying birds with one stone! Then... maybe Synthy can get ran over or something...
Hm... and how could I forget Spryck Johnson trying to get Synthy to be his life... I mean tag-team partner. Yeah, now you're just desperate. Scraping the bottom of the barrel for people to revive your career, huh? How about you get some talent. Some charisma. Learn to stop feeding off of the success of others, you Vampire. Eh, I said "success" didn't I? Well I s'pose in Synthy's case, you're feeding off the lack thereof. Yeah, that's probably it. You three would never survive in the stock market, if this is how you choose to invest.
Rips up the card and tosses it over his shoulder.
Madison the Clown Girl is kind of hot in a weird, disturbing way. There, I said it.
Tosses the card behind his back, but quickly turns around and fumbles with it in the air for a bit before catching it. He turns back torwards the podium.
Oh, yeah, another thing on the Madison chick. What's up with the 7'2 Giant Rabbit that follows her around? Did Abyss need another job and decided to join EWT to get my autograph? Does this chick think she's Donnie Darko or something? Is somebody going to come in and start playing "Mad World" on the piano? Is she going to go all schizo and burn someting to the ground? Are all of these references going over you people's heads? (Including a possibly cryptic inside reference in there...)
Maybe. Maybe not. I don't have all the answers. Stop persecuting me!
Card back over shouklder.
I came across Raft-Shack backstage. Don't. Wanna'. Talk about it.
Next card.
Hah. People keep saying I look just like "Siegfried" from Soul Calibur, minus the scar. Well in that case, I think we found Cervantes! Ferhago Crow, for the win! Hah... I don't get ol' Faygo. Is he another guy who thinks he's an undead zombie? I think he's like Drow-ger, only like, in cosplay mode. You people are afraid of that guy? The lovechild of the Undertaker and Paul Burchill does not strike fear into the heart of Cassidy Clearwater! Nuh-uh! No sir! Why, I wish that zombified buccaneer was here right now! I'd show you who the baddest person in EWT is then!
Cassinova looks over his shoulder a few times to make sure Crow isn't there, before throwing the card over his shoulder.
[To Be Continued]
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Post by Tha Kid Joker on Jul 29, 2007 5:17:37 GMT -5
[Continued]
Cassinova: Uh... I wrote down a card that said "Mysth" on it, in case I got the sudden urge to actually care about the guy while I was out here. Hm... nope. Still don't care.
Crumbles up the card and does the "Ballin'!" taunt to flick it behind his back.
Mike Ragnal is faced with a funny situation, folks. He's allowing you all to pick his challenger, and the choices are: "The Man of a Thousand Gimmicks" Mike Corral, "No One Knows What My Gimmick Is" Dave Davies, and "No One Is Actually Sure If I Have a Gimmick Besides Referencing Some Book That Only Losers Read" Jim Eight. Yeah. They have long nicknames, I realize. So, some guy who isn't sure if he's a prep or a thug, some... fisherman or something, and a former airplane pilot? That's who the main event scene is comprised of? Uh... hello?
Points to self.
Funny. Charismatic. Pretty. Quick. Strong. Agile. Etc. etc... These guys get a title shot before I do? I'm kept out of the main event scene because I'm "Not ready yet", when I radiate concentrated victory, while these generic filler-wrestlers are at the top? Yeah, that makes sense. EWT booking staff, and especially you Ragnal--I know you had something to do with this--you're on notice.
Card ripped up into multiple pieces and thrown to the ground.
Fanboy Otaku Gamers: EPIC! FAIL! That's all I really have to say to these losers. Well, that and get a life. Live a little. Stay away from RP'ing and Cosplay and learn that reality is so much better than fantasy. Lames.
Looks on the back of the card.
I don't know who Maxx Awesome is, but I bet that guy's a douchebag.
Card ripped and thrown.
I know I've dissed Rated X multiple times, but for a group of interchangeable, gimmick-stealing losers who I couldn't tell apart if they wore tank-tops with their names on it like the Spirit Squad--which they may do. I don't pay any attention to them--they actually aren't that bad.
Hah, I can't believe I actually got that out with a straight face. Of course they're that bad. A motley league of nations who are essentially Mike Corral's back up dancers? And hey, didn't some of them get dropped? Or did they get replaced? Did they just switch names again or get them changed? Another gimmick-switch? I can't keep up. They confuse me. Not every one of your favorite wrestlers deserves to get their schtick stolen for your benefit. Jackasses.
Card thrown and stomped on.
There are two guys teaming named Andy "The Eagle" Davidson and John "The Lion" Valentine. Hey, maybe you can find Synthy "The Gorilla" Eris and Chad "The Spot-Monkey" Michaels and be one big platitudinous zoo together!
Throws the card away with a frown.
Did I say something about the Cidal-Squad already? It seems like everytime I begin to I fall into a deep sleep. If I didn't, maybe it'd just be better if it stayed that way. I don't trust you rednecks while I'm asleep...
The crowd boos as he goes to the next card.
Minipax minus TJT... the world continues to not care.
Next card. The deck is pretty much empty now.
"Call me on the celly, Cass! 313.435...."
His voice fades out, as he slowly slips the card into his pocket. He then moves onto the next one.
Voltigeur is somehow a champion. Seems like Cosplay just runs amok in EWT! Does this guy really believe he's a knight? And if he does, would it be bad of me for wanting to kick his ass regardless? I mean, the guy might need some help. This is what happens when you don't give a child enough attention. He mimics cartoons and the pretty pictures in the history books. What a waste. Maybe the big guy could've been something in his life... like a plumber, or a really high-leveled World of Warcraft player.
Moves onto the next card.
Speaking of Nerds. Look! It's a pissbreak! It's a ratings dropper! It's... the return of the Nyrds! So, these guys are back? Like, for good? Is the hot Japanese chick still with them? Because we really need one of those around here. Can't think of any hot Japanese chicks who arrived since they left, so there's a void there...
Oh, but yeah, if ol' Kagome is still with them, sweet. If not...
He pretends to snore as he tosses the card.
Well... there may not be any Japanese around, but there's my favorite girl in the whole world! (High-pitched screams from the crowd.) No, not any of you underdeveloped jailbaits. I'm talking about my girl Jewelry! Yeah, you knew this was coming. My thoughts on Jewelry Sada... uh, Sada... well hell, you know her name. No need for me to say it, right? Whatever. Let me continue. I told you to stop persecuting me, damnit!
I know that Jewels was kind of mad at me for messing up that one transvestite she was supposed to face this week. I'm kind of mad at myself, because now that chick has to face Synthy this week. I wish I wouldn't have handled her so badly, now, since it's always fun to see Synthy get her ass kicked. Hmph, whoops. But anyway Jewelry, why can't you see past the fact that I jumped a chick from behind and beat her until she almost walked into the light? The bright, sunny side of it all is that I took care of your opponent so you didn't have to fight. I just don't want to see you go out and get hurt. I geuinely care about you, unlike some people who will not be named, AXEL!
...What? Maybe I just like screaming the word "axel" out every so often. That's perfectly normal, right?
Cassinova gives a slight shoulder and neck twitch, before he continues.
As for you telling Synthy not to say anything to me from now on as to not offend me or make me do something crazy? You think I'm doing this because of her? That lesbo-b**** knows the deal. And what was she really saying anyway besides, "Oh, Cassinova. I totally dig you secretly, but I have to keep up my reputation. So... I'm going to give you a threat or two every month, in between talking about far less important things! Oh yeah, and don't count on them being clever or witty! That's your job! I'm supposed to be bland and repeatitive." Well, you succeed at failing once more, Synth.
So... no big deal there. She can stop talking about me. Doesn't effect me either way. All I care about is you, Jewels. That's why... I have a proposition to make. I really wish you wouldn't be fighting on Sunday in that tournament match, but I know I can't stop you. But I can attempt to prevent you from ruining your own body even further. So... I'd like to propose the deal that if you lose that match at Old School...
...You'll allow me to take you on a three-day trip to Europe. Of course, you won't accept that without me giving you your end of the deal as well. So, how about if you win that match... I'll leave you alone for good. You'll never have to put up with me unless it's under your terms. I'll get some things fixed in my contract, we'll work out some legal stuff, restraining orders can be put in place, the works. I'll be out of your pretty hair forever. And... if that isn't enough for you, if you accept this deal--regardless of whether you win or lose, I'll remove the stipulation from Crap-A-Mania. Neither you nor Synthy will be binded to wear your dresses any longer. Even though Synthy has seemingly already rejected the dress, I will no longer be able to hold it against her following Old School.
Cassinova smirks slightly.
It's kind of funny when you think about it. You're facing Synthy at Old School. The person who may be your best friend is the person who now stands in between you and "freedom", so to speak. The one who perhaps most wants you to be rid of me because she feels the same way. She's the only thing stopping you from having to put up with me any longer. Because apparently, there's something wrong with me.
...I don't think there's anything wrong with me. What do you think, random redneck hicks in the crowd? Is there something wrong with me?
A loud and unified, "YES!" is heard.
...Aww... f*** you!
Boos.
But anyway... there's the proposition, beautiful. Think about it. Take your time, and make the right decision.
He kisses the card with her name on it and puts it into his pocket.
I... don't really need a card for this one. Apparently, since no one stepped up to challenge me for my title, I'm facing Moxie! That's right! Amongst so many others, I've beaten Chad Michaels, Jack Jupiter, and now Moxie. Apparently there's a running trend of me facing guys who are used to playing second fiddle to other people! And what is this? 2005? When the hell did Moxie get back anyway? Whatever. This random street-bum who can't decide on who he is or wants to be will just suffer the same fate as so many others. Staring up at the lights... wondering what he did wrong... angry that Cassinova embarassed him in front of MILLIONS...
Holds the microphone up. The crowd yells out, "...and MILLIONS!"
...Hah. See, Michaels? I can steal schticks too. But anyway, where'd I leave off? Millions and millions... OF CASSINOVA FANS! (Boos.) And then, you'll probably leave the company because of your bitterness and utter frustration, and hopefully drive your car off of a steep cliff. I don't know which booker you bought a stripper for to get this title shot, but you're going to regret it come August 12th. I guarantee that.
Looks at the final card.
Okay... time to wrap it up. This concludes Cassinova's State of the EWT Address '07. Hm, how do I finish this? Uh... keep buying my merchandise? Stay in school? Insert another punchline against Synthy here? Yeah, something like that. Whatever. I'm out. This place is too depressing and buzzing with the sounds of imperfection and concentrated failure. I have a plane to catch. See ya'.
He walks away from the podium, and stops to bow at the booing fans. Random postcards are scattered throughout the ring, and he doesn't bother to pick them up as he departs for the ring and heads up the ramp. The crowd still boos wildly as he walks cockily towards the entrance, before being cut off by the sound of a school bell.
Tron: I am Matt Striker, and I am your teacher!
Cassinova stops in his tracks as his opponent for last week, Matt Striker, walks out from behind the curtain. He holds a microphone and is flanked by Cassinova's opponent for this week, Kenny Dykstra. Striker waits for his music to die down before speaking.
Striker: Hello, my student. I do believe that I am Matt Striker, I am your teacher, and you owe me an Ox-Division Title match!
Dykstra: (Pulling the microphone is his direction.) Yeah! Me too!
Striker: (Pulling it back.) Quiet down. You'll get your turn. Mine is overdue like I'm sure many of Cassinova's library books are...
Cassinova freezes, staring at Striker--almost as if he's in fear of the man. He slowly and cautiously reaches his hand out to receive the microphone from him, and lifts it to his mouth when he finally gets it.
Cassinova: Uh... first off, Mr. Striker, I found that last line to be offensive and slanderish...
I mean, as if I actually read anything. C'mon. Think about it. Oh, and also...
Without warning, he lunges out and blast Striker in the head with the microphone. Striker goes down, and C-Nova picks him back up before hurling him off of the stage! Matt Striker crashes into some stacked tables and lies there, limply, as Kenny Dykstra looks confused as to what's going on. Cassinova glares down at Striker, looking furious.
Cassinova: I. HATE. TEACHERS!
That explains so much. Cassinova stares down at Striker for a while, before shivering and turning away. Dykstra still looks confused as Cassinova walks back over to him. He asks Cass what he's doing, but this is practically inaudible since he doesn't have a microphone.
Cassinova: Relax. I just thought you'd like your title shot sooner.
Dykstra nods and grins at Cass, reaching out and shaking his hand. Cass grins back while shaking his hand back, before reaching out with his free hand and decking him in the face! Soon after, he tosses him off of the stage as well! Dykstra crashes besides Striker and lies there just as limp. Cassinova doesn't even look down at them as he turns around and heads to the back, speaking into the microphone.
Cassinova: Ladies and gentlemen, I deeply apologize for not wrestling last week, and it appears as if I won't be wrestling this week either. Therefore... STILL the EWT Ox-Division Champion... Cassinova!
He drops the microphone without stopping his cocky walk. The crowd continues to boo him loudly as carries his title to the back.
Before the camera has a chance to fade, Cassinova walks back out of the curtain and flips off Spectre, who stares straight at him without movement. Cassinova takes the time out to stare his way for a while, before once again shivering and disappearing behind the curtain.
FADE TO COMMERCIAL
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Spectre
Mike the Goon
"The echo of a point in time..."
Posts: 44
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Post by Spectre on Jul 29, 2007 14:49:17 GMT -5
(A montage of clips is shown. They depict a shadow moving rapidly, training. It throws kicks, jabs, and leaps quickly. As the shots change, and the figure holds still, light dancing across him reveal Spectre)
Voice-Over: Thus far, the man known as Spectre has had no words for the EWT.
(More shots of Spectre training, including shots of his match against Jimmy Yang, and clips of him stretching and striking students at a wrestling school)
VO: But with each passing day, his desire to make his message known through his actions grows larger and larger.
His submissions: inescapable.
His strikes: devastating.
His fluidity: eye-popping.
Coming soon, as EWT presents "Old School"...Spectre arrives on pay per view.
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(The camera come back live, where none other than "Mean" Gene Okerlund has appeared near the ramp)
Gene: Fans, I'm sure you're just as confused as I am about this mysterious figure, Spectre. Well, today's the day: we, the journalists of the EWT, are about ready to get some words from the man himself.
(As Gene walks over to where Spectre is seated, the camera shows the masked man sitting still, not acknowledging the approaching Okerlund)
Gene: Spectre, you've arrived in this company without any warning. Heck, I don't think anyone even heard about you, whoever you are, signing a contract! But now you're set for your first ever pay per view match at Old School, and seem to have raised the ire of one Cassinova, which, I must say, is not exactly the wisest course of action around here. Do you wish to address any of this?
(Spectre, unblinking, sits still for a moment, and then slowly rises to his feet. The crowd looks on, perplexed, as he places a hand on the mic Gene holds, moving close to the mouth of the mask...where he utters, in a low, borderline raspy voice)
"Soon...Not now."
(Turning quickly, Spectre returns to the backstage area, leaving Gene with a baffled look on his face)
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Smarky
Mike the Goon
Posts: 14
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Post by Smarky on Jul 29, 2007 16:04:19 GMT -5
[The Noose by The Offspring hits the arena and Smarky enters the arena, taunting the crowd. He rolls into the ring and takes off his vest and sunglasses and strikes a pose on the turnbuckle, where the audience meets him with boos. With an annoyed look on his face, he drops down to wait for his opponent]
PA: MISTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR KENNNNUUUUDYYYYY
[Mr. Kennedy enters the arena....enters ring...blahblahblah...not important]
Kennedy: [Grabbing a microphone] Ladies and gentlemen, I hail from Green Bay, Wisconsin! Tonight, I weight in at 244 pounds, and my name is MISTEEE-
[Kennedy is caught off guard by a rollup from Smarky]
Mr. Kennedy vs. Smarky
The ref begins the count.
One!
Two!
Kickout!
Both men quickly get to their feet. Smarky shrugs and mouths the words "It worked for Super Crazy". Kennedy doesn't bother listening and charges towards Smarky and knocks him down with a shoulderblock. Smarky rolls onto his stomach as Kennedy bounces off the ropes. Kennedy attempts a dropkick to the side but Smarky rolls out of the way. Both men are now on their feet. They both lock up but Smarky is quickly overpowered by the larger Kennedy and taken down. Kennedy retains his hold on Smarky and brings him back up and swings around and hits him with a Russian Legsweep. Kennedy grabs Smarky's arm and lands a legdrop on it, and turns it into an armbar. Smarky grunts in pain and strains towards the ropes. Kennedy jerks harder on the arm and Smarky lets out a yell. After realizing that the ropes are out of his reach, he suddenly sits up, twists around, and nails Kennedy in the head with an elbow. Taking advantage, Smarky escapes the hold and lays more blows on Kennedy's cranium, ending with an explosive capoeira kick to the side of his skull. Kennedy collapses to the ground and Smarky goes back down to the ground with a side headlock. After a few moments though, Kennedy powers to his feet and lifts Smarky up in the air and drops him with a Samoan Drop. Smarky, gasping for air, crawls to the edge of the ring, but to no avail, as Kennedy brings him back up to his feet and whips him into the ropes and brings him up....then DOWN with a spinebuster. The pin!
One
Two
Nope, kickout. Kennedy picks up Smarky again and attempts another spinebuster, but Smarky manages clinch his arm around Kennedys head and turns it into a DDT! Smarky gets back to his feet and waits for Kennedy to get up, trying to forumulate a gameplan. Kennedy gets to his feet and Smarky attempts to initiate a grapple. Kennedy bites and Smarky begins to fade again, but suddenly lunges with a kick to Kennedy's groin. Kennedy collapses to the ground and Smarky makes the pin.
One
Two
Another kickout. Smarky, aggravated, begins kicking Kennedy in the stomach until one particular kick is grabbed by Kennedy. Kennedy rises to his feet and lifts Smarky by his leg onto the turnbuckle. He climbs up and lifts Smarky onto his shoulders...possibly going for the Green Bay Plunge? Unfortunately, Smarky manages to wriggle out of it and knocks Kennedy to the ground. He takes a moment to get his bearings and leaps off and hits Kennedy with a ***** Frog Splash! The cover...
One
Two
Three!
Winner-Smarky
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Post by crauswell on Jul 29, 2007 16:57:05 GMT -5
We fade in from commercial just in time to see "The Genius" Lanny Poffo hopping around, clad in his traditional graduation robe. The crowd gives him a decent nostalgia pop as he awaits his opponent. He doesn't have to wait long, as the lights lower... the loud maniacal laugh of HUBOON Stomp being heard, only to fade into No Quarter, as the crowd turns to the entrance way, the newest member of the Cidal Squad stepping out, spreading his now torn looking wings, the crowd looking on in shock, wondering why Crauswell turned on them so quickly.
Announcer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, representing the Cidal Squad, from Parts Unknown, weighing in at 272 pounds, The Cidal Force Crauswell!
The "Cidal Force" steps down the ramp way slowly, looking on in anticipation, at Poffo, who gives a rather puzzled look at his furry opponent. Crauswell steps down to the ring, leaping atop the ring apron, focusing on his warm up opponent it seems, before the eight man tag later on. He climbs slowly into the ring, walking to the center and dropping down on his knees, spreading his ripped wings once again, before rising back up, walking over to the turnbuckle corner and resting against it, close watching Poffo on the other side.
Announcer: And the opponent, currently in the ring, from Calgary, Alberta, weighing in at 228 pounds, "The Genius" Leaping Lanny Poffo!
Poffo steps into the center of the ring, as the bell sounds, only to be obliterated in mere moments by a merciless Lariat clothesline! Poffo gets turned inside out, landing hard, as Craus leaps atop his back, clubbing relentlessly at his neck, then pulling him up, whipping him off the ropes, then catching and sending him sailing with an Exploder Suplex. He charges over, leaping atop to make the cover. 1...2... but breaks it himself. He pulls Poffo back to both feet, unleashing a series of vicious chops, sending Lanny staggering back against the ropes. Crauswell whips him off again, then catches him and delivers a Death Valley Driver! Poffo groans, trying to rise back up, slowly doing so, only to get launched by an overhead belly to belly! Crauswell sits up, still ready to fight, as he walks over, yanking Poffo up again, then lifting him up for a Flapjack face first into the top turnbuckle! Poffo goes flying backward from the impact, clutching at his face, as Crauswell simply leaps atop the turnbuckle, jumping off and Taking Flight, landing the headbutt into the heart of Poffo. He rises quickly back up, delivering some quick brutal stomps to the neck, dropping down and clinching on a sleeper hold on poor Poffo, who wriggles, trying to escape. He doesn't get the chance, as the furry lifts him up with ease, spinning around and launching him with the Sleeper Suplex, as Crauswell charges full speed again, yanking him up by the neck and pulling him right into the Beak Buster! Poffo lays completely still, as the furry drops down, hooking the leg for the cover. 1...2....
But once again breaks it himself, instead pulling Poffo up once again, then charging full speed and driving him into the nearest turnbuckle with a Running Beak Buster, then tugging his rather motionless body off and dropping down, clinching on the Crossface Gryphon Wing. Poffo yelps in pain, quickly tapping out of the hold.
The bell sounds and Crauswell slowly rises up, as the referee reluctantly raises his hand, the furry looking right at him.
Announcer: Here is your winner... The Cidal Force, Crauswell!
Crauswell then instantly pulls the referee into a vicious Sambo Suplex, before dropping down and clinching on the Crossface Gryphon Wing, forcing the air out of the man, as he gasps in pain, the crowd booing him quite angrily. He rises up, walking over and laying out the announcer with another standing lariat, then reaching down and snatching his microphone.
Crauswell: I KNEW YOU WERE FICKLE! I knew that you would turn on me as soon as I went back to my ways. After I tried to make you people happy, to entertain you, to make you undeserving furry bashers smile. I knew that all of your affection was nothing more than pity! You didn't like me, you just liked that I didn't destroy people any more. You just liked the fact that I had become a spineless miserable jellyfish! Crauswell, the tame beast. Crauswell, the man who hung out with a knight. Crauswell, the being who actually tried to befriend those two fools in the back. Why did I do what I did?! It's simple... I grew tired of being a pacifistic weakling!
The furry looks over, charging the rising referee and bashing him right in the face with his microphone, sending him down temporarily.
Crauswell: I was fed up with my treatment. I couldn't beat Voltiguer at The Soundless Dawn... because I had grown weak! That's the bottom line, I had grown completely pathetic in the eyes of everyone. I was no longer a threat, I was simply "the guy in the bird suit" Well, only a few people truly understood and respected me and my ways. You want to know who they are... they were the Cidal Squad! Ragnal took me aside personally one day and opened my eyes to the deserved fate of the EWT... the same that meets all my advesaries... EXTINCTION! Whether they be Minipax, Rated X, Draugr, Team Ireland, or even those arrogant fools of CAP... every stable is now inferior to the Cidal Squad! They possess the EWT Tag Team Titles, they possess the EWT WORLD Championship, and they now possess the most destructive and dominant force in the EWT. Know this all who oppose us... if you have the gall to touch me or any of my allies... I WILL RIP YOU APART!!!
The furry drops the microphone, then exits the ring, as the crowd boos, the new Cidal Force ignoring them all, content with leaving this wave of destruction behind him.
We fade to the next segment.
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Post by Karvanda on Jul 29, 2007 17:08:36 GMT -5
*Voltigeur can be seen backstage, looking into an EWT TV monitor, watching Crauswell's statement. The Toolshed Title Belt is slung over his shoulder*
Voltigeur: ...I...I do not like the sound of this...something very bad about him...
*Voltigeur slowly turns around and walks away.*
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Post by Hensley on Jul 30, 2007 20:23:58 GMT -5
Finkel: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Richmond, Virginia, he weighed in this morning at 252 pounds, Haaardcooore Hensley!!!
*Hensley leaps out from behind the curtains beating his chest aggressively. Chewing gum, he spreads a grin across his face then hops down the entrance ramp.*
JBL: This man's looking to make a HUUUGE debut here tonight!
Styles: Wouldn't that be the plan of every rookie here in WWE, JBL?
JBL: Shut up.
Finkel: And his opponent, hailing from Tampa, Florida, he weighed in this morning at 285 pounds, Tessst!!!
*Test waltzes out from behind the silk with a grin noticable from space. He strolls down the ring chuckling at the chorus of boos ascending from the crowd. He halts before entering the ring to trade smack with a fellow fan. The referee motions for him to come on, but he simply waves him off. The offical goes to call for the bell, but Hensley stops him.*
*Hensley steps back and bounces off the ropes towards Test's direction. He propels himself over the top rope and collides with Test. The two roll backwards as the fans pop for the daring move. Hensley jumps right up and starts flailing his arms to soak it all in.*
Styles: That's quite the impact he just made, wouldn't you say JBL?
JBL: Didn't I tell you to shut up?
*Turning around, he picks Test up and Irish whips him into the barricade to an "oooh" reaction from the audience. He attempts to do it again to the other side, but Test reverses. Hensley manages to halt his progress and leap onto the barricade. Almost losing his balance, he stumbles, but regains his composure and performs a moonsault. However, Test isn't stupid, and has been waiting for this. He catches Hensley almost the moment he lands, and hits him with a full nelson slam onto the bare concrete. It appears as though Hensley is old cold. Test moves over to get in the ring, but notices the match hasn't even started yet. So, of course, Test avoids doing such and retrieves a steel chair from ringside instead. He gets over to Hensley who's just getting to one knee. He raises it back, but a swift kick in the groin forces him to release his grip and bend over in pain. Hensley follows it up with a shuffle side kick to the face. This puts Test on his ass, and gives Hensley all the time he needs to recover. Test's nose has also begun to bleed. Once revived, Hensley pulls Test up, and places him in a piledriver position above the chair, but Test reverses yet agian by flipping Hensley over. Yet again, Hensley manages to catch himself on his feet. Much better than his first attempt, he waits on Test to turn around then drops him with a superkick. Both take their time in getting up, Hensley heads up the ramp while Test picks up the chair from before. He chases after Hensley who dodges a chair shot that ricochets off the guard rail. He keeps himself together and tries again. With nowhere else to go, Hensley rolls under Test's legs. This shocks Test long enough to when he turns around, he eats a picture perfect dropkick, with the chair a bonus. The two are near the top of the ramp, and Hensley slides the chair out of the way then waits in front of the curtains for Test to get up. When he does, Hensley nails a tornado DDT that sends them both tumbling down the ramp in fairly humorous manner. The two, slowly once again, get up acting dizzy. They grab each other to stay sturdy then once Hensley's focused...he snaps off the Pizza Cutta. It surprises the fans, to say the least. Hensley slips getting up, and tries pulling Test up unsuccessfully. Instead, he hoist his dead weight up on his shoulders in a fireman's carry position. He walks over to the ring, and dumps his body onto the apron. He rolls him further in then slides in to make the cover as the ref signals for the bell.*
Singles match: Hardcore Hensley vs. Test (15-Minute Time Limit)
Hensley hooks the leg.
1!
2!!
3!!!
Winner: Hardcore Hensley via pinfall at 0:05
The crowd applauds with approval for the victor as he rises up with aid from the ref who raises his hand high into the air as he calls for the bell again.
Finkel: Your winner, Haaardcooore Hensley!!!
Styles: Nice little match there, slow but it had it's moments. What did you think, partner?
JBL: Honestly man, I don't see why you're still talking? Didn't you hear me earlier?
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Post by Oceanic on Jul 31, 2007 12:27:00 GMT -5
Oceanic stands at the matchboard, reading over the list of opponents she's scheduled to defend the Tri State title against. As she stands there the masked luchadore and recent graduate of the EWT Boot Camp (why not?) El Camera walks up and takes a gander at the list. He notices Oceanic's match and appears startled, at least as much as you can wearing a mask.
El Camera: "Woah, you got screwed this week!"
Oceanic: "Why do you say that?"
El Camera: "Are you kidding? You're facing Kane, Batista, and The Great Khali all at the same time! Man, Toomi must really have it in for you!"
Oceanic: "That he does, young luchadore. It's amazing how petty one man can get."
El Camera: "Meaning?"
Oceanic: "During my time as GM I did the things that Toomi can't do with out really trying. I got more positive mainstream publicity in one month than he could in three years. I boosted backstage morale and I put on one of the biggest PPV's in EWT history. Meanwhile he's pouting about some money, which he'll make back in a couple of weeks anyway, and running a show in some podunk high school gym. Of course when the buy rates come in at an all time high he'll think t was all his doing."
El Camera: "Well, still. You're in big trouble this week."
Oceanic: "Are you kidding? Batista's meat rips off of his bones whenever he sneezes, The Great Khali is as mobile as a tree, and Kane hasn't won a high profile match since he was telling people to "suck it" through a voice box. They may have the size but I have more intelligence than all three combined. I'll win, no problem, it'll just take me a little longer. That's all. Now if you'll excuse me...."
Oceanic walks off as El Camera looks on with that one big eye of his before he walks away as well and we go to the next segment.
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The Line
Patti Mayonnaise
Real Name: Bumkiss. Stanley Bumkiss.
Peanut Butter & JAAAAAMMMM!
Posts: 36,698
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Post by The Line on Jul 31, 2007 13:22:01 GMT -5
We come back from commercial with Dave Taylor and Paul Birchill already in the ring. The lights in the Liverpool Olympia fade to black, as the opening tones of “No Quarter” echoes ominously through the sold-out arena. Red beams turn on as Jimmy Page’s guitar solo kicks in. Out come The Cidal Squad, lacking their grandiose entrance they get state-side.
Bobby Cruise: The following match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the EWT Tag Team Championships. Now making their way to the ring, being accompanied by “The Cidal Squad’s First Lady” Alexa King, at a combined weight of 460 pounds, the EWT Tag Team Champions, “Sinnercidal” Jonathan Doe and “Insecticidal” Andy Duke, THE CIDAL SQUAD! And their challengers, at a combined weight of 503 pounds, Dave Taylor and Paul Birchill.
Official Todd Sinclair talks to both teams, and shows just what is up for grabs, the EWT Tag Team Titles, and signals to the time-keeper to ring the bell, and for this match to get underway!
Lenny Leonard: Hello, and welcome to this very special EWT-sanctioned match here in Liverpool! I’m Lenny Leonard, joined here in the booth by Dave Prazak!
Dave Prazak: Hello! Yes, this indeed a very special match-up, as the team of Paul Birchill and Dave Taylor will try and do what no other team has done, and that’s defeat the Cidal Squad for the EWT tag team titles.
Lenny Leonard: They could do it. Not only do they have the home-crowd advantage, but they also have almost 40 pounds on the Cidal Squad.
Dave Prazak: This of course is the 3rd match of what will hopefully be 6 in this “around the world” series. Lets get to the match.
Jonathan Doe and Dave Taylor start things out here. Dave uses his size to power Doe down to the mat, and gets him in a shoulder lock. Its too early in the match to keep Doe in it for too long, however, as he gets to the ropes quickly.
Prazak: If Taylor can lock a few more of those in, then this will be a quick match.
Both men are back to their feet now, and Jonathan starts with a series of kicks to Dave. He starts with kicks to the back of the knee and thigh. Then a kick to the gut. He goes for a kick to the face, but Taylor grabs it, and hit’s a kick to the face of his own! But Doe no-sells it, uses the momentun from the kick to bounce off the ropes, and then hit’s a running Mafia-kick, and procedes to fall. It appears the adreneline-rush was short lived. Referee Todd Sinclair starts the 10 count, as both Birchill and Duke reach out for tags from their fallen partners.
1
2 3 4
Both men start to stir…
5 6 7
Both men start to inch to their respective corners, as Sinclair stops the count. Taylor gets the tag…and so does Doe! Both new men enter the ring, and run towards each other. Duke ducks a clothesline, and begins to hit the much bigger, taller Birchill with a barrage of forearm shivers. Birchill is out on his feet, as Duke runs to the ropes, and springboards off the second rope and hit’s a modified Bushido Knee to the side of the head! He goes for the cover.
1 2 3...No!
Taylor breaks up the pin at 2.99999 seconds, and begins to lay into Duke with some stomps. Duke is able to get to his feet, and blocks Dave Taylor’s attempts at punching him right in the mush. A chop battle beings, and Duke’s chest is being turned into hamburger.
Duke is able to mount the offensive, hitting some forearm shivers, this time to Taylor. Duke gets him to the ropes, and hits him with a Cactus Clothesline. Taylor hit’s the ground hard, as Duke lands on the apron. As Taylor gets up, Duke runs along the apron, and hit’s a running cannonball senton to Taylor.
As Todd Sinclair is distracted by Duke and Taylor’s fighting, Birchill begins to rise. Doe, ever the opprotunist, sees this as his chance to capitalize, and hits Birchill with a vicious lariat, turning him inside out. And just like a thief in the night, Doe leaves the ring with little sign of him ever being there. Duke re-enters the ring, sees Birchill counting lights, and goes for the cover. Hook of the leg, and Sinclair begins the count.
1 2 3
The Cidal Squad win. Todd Sinclair brings the duo their belts, as they raise their arms up high.
Bobby Cruise: Here are your winners, and still EWT Tag Team Champions, “Sinnercidal” Jonathan Doe and “Insecticidal” Andy Duke, The Cidal Squad!
Leonard: Well that was a hard-hitting match!
Prazak: Indeed it was. And with the victory, The Cidal Squad come one match closer to making those titles into World titles.
Leonard: Indeed. And after a brief stop in the states, The Cidal Squad will fly to Japan, then Australia, and then Madagascar, all within rapid succession, to finish off this tour, all before the 12th of August for the Old School PPV.
Prazak: Its going to be a trying time for the Squad, as exhaustion is going to take its toll. Hopefully we can continue to call these international matches.
Leonard: Hopefully
Prazak: Well, I’m Dave Prazak, for Lenny Leonard signing off for another great EWT International!
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Post by The Zephyr Brothers on Jul 31, 2007 14:16:08 GMT -5
*The Zephyr Brothers can be seen backstage in jogging pants and jackets, walking towards their locker room. They notice a camera, and turn around.*
Mike: ZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZA...
Mark: Home-dada-dum...home-dada-dum-dada...
Mike: ZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZA...
Mark: Home-dada-dum...home-dada-dum-dada...
Mike: ZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZAZA....ZEPHYR!
Mark: Shug-gudda-duh..shug-gudda-duh..
Mike: ZEPHYR...ZEPHYR, ZEPHYR, STRENGTH!
Mark: Dunga-DAGGA! Dunga...DAGGA! Dunga...DAGGA! Dunga...DAGGA!
Mike: ZEPHYRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR......ZEHPYR, STRENGTH!
Mark: Heezlebottom-feezlebottom-wee-wa-wooooo!
Mike: ZEPHYRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR......ZEHPYR, STRENGTH!
Mark: Heezlebottom-feezlebottom-wee-wa-wooooo!
Mike: Bringing the fight to....uh....SOME-PEOP-PLE!
Mark: Heezlebottom-feezlebottom-wee-wa-wooooo!
Mike: Bringing the fight to...something something....BACK DOOR!
Mark: Heezlebottom-feezlebottom-wee-wa-wooooo!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: Fast!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: Technical!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: Strong!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: Mediocre!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: Something!
Mike: Amazing!
Mark: This!
Mike: Amazing....WOOOOOOOOO~!
*Mike begins breakdancing*
Mark: Now here's the tale, in TV Land! The Zephyrs gonna bring you to your last stand! With awesome abilties and....uh....awesome abilities...we.....uh...SOMETHING SOMETHING ........Frozen Euripides! So we're gonna see you later! Gonna do it now! I wish I had a pet chow-chow!
*Mark enters into the Zephyr locker room*
Mike: *stops, gets up, and makes a gun-pose similar to something in a gangster rap*
WORD LYFE, NUMBER ONE IN DA HOOD G!
*Mike walks into the Zephyr locker room and shuts the door. The camera pans to the left, revealing TJT with Jack Jupiter standing away.*
Jupiter: *snickers*.....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Jack: Oh God, that was horrible!
Terina: ...no comment. Eh.
Jupiter: Alright Jack...go suit up. You have a match ahead of you. And don't screw this one up!
Jack: Don't worry, I won't!
*The four walk away, as the camera slowly fades*
Thunder: .........HAHAHA!...."frozen Euripides..."
*the camera cuts to the next segment*
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Exner
Mike the Goon
Posts: 16
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Post by Exner on Jul 31, 2007 19:08:30 GMT -5
We come now to an NYC back-ally. Exner appears on screen,and begins to walk down it. The post-production voice-over begins.ExnerVoice-Over) Exner's Journal. July 31st, 2007. Dusk. I say my last good-bye's to the streets that raised me. Their streams of blood that have washed my feet so many nights. The cold asphalt that caressed my cheek so many mornings after a night of watching. The sights, the sounds, and smells which have been lodged in my mind for the rest of my existance. ( During the previous few sentances,shots of Exner beating up a common street thug replace the current one, then fade back to Exner walking down the alley. He opens a trashcan, and takes out a large, paper bag). I make my final preperations.( As he says the items, he takes them out of the bag). Start-up capital. A spare face( a mask), and a new journal. I'll leave this one, so that incase I never make it big, You'll know of my life. Some say that the wrestling business is cyclical, like a wheel. If EWT is a wheel, its spinning on a broken axel.starting next week, I hope to change that... Exner extracts his old journal from his pocket, puts it in the trashcan that he took his new items from earlier, and proceeds to climb up a fire escape, as the following graphic comes up on the screen:EXNER: COMING NEXT WEEK
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The Line
Patti Mayonnaise
Real Name: Bumkiss. Stanley Bumkiss.
Peanut Butter & JAAAAAMMMM!
Posts: 36,698
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Post by The Line on Jul 31, 2007 21:07:29 GMT -5
We see Sum Guy at an airport terminal. He is waiting for someone. Just then, Alexa King and The EWT Tag Champs "Insecticidal" Andy Duke and "Sinnercidal" Jonathan Doe arrive out of the gate, carry on in tow. They go to baggage claim. They are not dressed to kill. Slacks, basic t's, windbreakers, and sunglasses.
Sum: Guys, Guys, may I have a word with you?
Duke: Sure.
Sum: Well, first off, congrats on your successful tag title defense in England.
Duke: Thank you! That really means a lot!
Sum: And...congrats to you, winning your first match, Alexa. It was...(voice cracks)Great!(Blushes)
Duke: Um...yeah, thanks for that,too.(Duke puts his arm around Alexa's waist, and takes off his sunglasses. The travel has had its effects on him).So, what is it you wanted to say?
Sum:umm..what?..OH! That! What are your opinions about Crauswell joining? I meant to ask you guys last week, but you were out of here so fast!
Duke: Well, obviously this is a huge aquisition. Crauswell had a great Ox division reign, and its only a matter of time before he wins the World Title...that is, if Mike ever loses.
Sum: About Crauswell. Is he going to get the usual "cidal nickname?"
Duke: About that. Thats completley up to him. In the past, the Cidal Squad has been seen as a joke, and I think the nicknames are a big reason why. Now, don't get me wrong, if he or Alexa ever want them, thats cool,too. And you won't see me or Jonathan or Mike ditching the names anytime soon. So to make a long story short, I don't really know. Now if you don't mind, I've got to pick up my luggage.
The three go to pick up their suitcases and walk down a hallway
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Post by Mella Drom Attoc on Aug 1, 2007 2:32:39 GMT -5
Marisol: I'm here with Billy and Dave, the Zephyr Brothers....
Mike: That's Mark and Mike!
Marisol: Oh yes of course. Well after your... “Glorious” debut, what are your plans for your future endeavors?
“YOU THERE, LOVELY MICROPHONE HANDLER! STOP WASTING TIME WITH THOSE UNDERSTUDYS AND LET ME TALK WHILE YOU GANDER!”
*The camera turns to see Lull Songstra in a open button up shirt, probably made of the finest silks, and a tacky pair of red leather pants. Marisol, taking one look at Mike and Mark, gladly rushes over to him and begins to interview him.*
Marisol: Hi.... *blushing* I'm Marisol...
Lull: That's very nice, Jesse, but I have something to say! AND WHEN I'M DONE EVERYONE WILL GO “HEY!” .......“That Lull guy is right!”
Marisol: ....Jesse works too. Anything as long as you keep singing like that.
Mark: HEY! US! YOU FORGOT ABOUT US!
Mike: Yea!
Lull: *He glances over at them and continues to sing into the mic* EVERYONE KNOWS THAT I AM THE ONLY ONE FITTING TO SING ON THIS TERRIBLE PRODUCT! WHY, IT IS EVEN LISTED IN MY HAND WRITTEN COPY OF THE CODE OF CONDUCT!
Marisol: *Dreamy look on her face* ...Sing “Fever” for me....
Mike: HEY I SAID SOMETHING!
Mark: They can't hear us!
Mike: You don't think.... We're ghosts?
Mark: Let's go check! Where's a mirror?
*They both leave.*
Lull: BUT NO! SOMEONE IGNORED THE LINES THAT WILL GUARANTEE THEM MY FAVOR! INSTEAD I WILL HAVE TO CRUSH HIM FOR HIS BEHAVOIR! YOU HEAR ME, MR. DYE SHOEGUYA! WHEN I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU'RE GONNA CRYA! AND AFTER YOU'RE DONE STAINING YOUR MAKEUP HERE ON THE INLAND... I'M GOING TO SEND YOU BACK TO FINLAND!
Marisol: Did you say Die? That guy's soooo dreamy!
Lull: *He turns to her* TAMIE YOU INSULT ME! AND NOW I MUST RECLAIM MY HONOR... *He rears back and smacks her across the face to much crowd booing. She looks at him, in disbelief and tears.* AND DON'T EVER THINK YOU COULD EVEN GET FIVE MINUTES WITH ME! YOU AREN'T EVEN A QUARTER OF THE WOMAN THAT MY SWEET MELLADY, IS. NOW, YOU HOMELY SHREW, BE GONE WITH YOU. *He walks away, brushing his platinum blonde hair back into shape. Marisol looks into the camera almost heartbroken.*
Marisol: .....don't go away now... more....EWT....action...when we com.... *She loses it and runs away as the production staff tries to save face by fading to commercial.*
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Boku AKA Da Green Guy
El Dandy
WC's Resident Pirate Otaku and Official Scapegoat
Always and Forever, Hurricane.
Posts: 8,371
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Post by Boku AKA Da Green Guy on Aug 1, 2007 3:19:20 GMT -5
*Back from commercial, Sum Guy stands in the EWT broom closet/WP locker room.*
Sum Guy: I'm Sum Guy and this interview probably won't end well... AND I'm here with the biggest loser on the EWT roster. Even worse than those Zephyr Brothers.... “The Biggest Loser (Not losing weight)” AXEL HALAWAY!
*Sum motions the camera to go down as he leans down to stick the mic in the face of a seemingly zoned out Axel. Sum shrugs and starts his interview.*
Sum Guy: So, Axel, it's been over half a year since you joined EWT. Since then, you've lost every PPV match you've been in, you've been repeatedly made out to be a fool, lost your only sister to a bunch of creepy goths, and now you've lost to the Highlanders of all people. Thoughts?!
*Shoving the mic in Axel's face further.*
Axel: ...What can you say to that? I've always thought I was worth something growing up. When my sister and father thought I never would go anywhere, I always thought that I would prove them wrong. My only friend in the world, my only brother, didn't believe either. When I signed to EWT, I was damn sure I was going to prove everyone wrong. And even when I was teamed with Jobby, I was positive that I would come out on top. I've proved nothing. My name, which before was my ticket to bookings when I wasn't well known, as become a weight that I bear on my neck. And for the first time in my life, I'm thinking that maybe I'm not meant for greatness... Maybe I really can't live up to my name. Maybe my dreams are just that... And maybe, Karma isn't the one that's been brainwashed. Maybe... It's been me all along for even thinking that I could even amount to something other than what my father has always said I was. A worthless piece of shit. Even as I think nothing could possibly be worse about my situation... Something else always happens to disprove that. But now, I don't think I can fall any further. Jobby and I aren't even booked at Old School. We've fallen so far that we aren't even on the list for the top five tag teams. And meanwhile, my ex, could possibly win her first EWT title before me in that tournament. I'm convinced in fact, that nothing can get worse.
Sum Guy: You said Jobby wasn't booked at Old School, right?
Axel: *turning his head for the first time to look at him.* Yes.
Sum Guy: But Jobby is booked! Against Joe Ragnal!
Axel: *His face twinges to look even sadder.* Won't be long until I'm fired then... I'm the fat to this meat of a tag team.
Sum Guy: So Jobby is the life blood then!?
Axel: *Lost in thought* Why is the Draugr treated so well here? I've done everything I can to please the management... I've bled for Toomi... I looked to Oceanic for a bone while she was in charge, but she rather cheer on the Draugr. Even the fans are beginning to dress like them... The fans, whom I've given everything to, now wouldn't even take my autograph if I paid them. They rather laugh at a some one that is suffering more than them to make them feel better. They rather have a dark, sick freak that maims people for fun than someone like me who is out to have mostly clean matches. I've done everything to stop the Draugr that I can think of... Everything I can to carry the support I'm given by the crowd to please them, but I failed.
Sum Guy: ...
Axel: ...I get it now... The only way... The one true way to get myself noticed... To please everyone... I have to fall into darkness. Perhaps even deeper than Ghost Face himself. I have to beat him... Even if it kills me. *He stares into the camera almost looking, with dark circled eyes, right into the very souls of the EWT fans.* Just remember, when you hear the news of my death, that you drove me to this... *closing eyes.* ....At least I'll see Mum sooner than I thought.
Sum Guy: .....uh..... I got to go...
*He goes to shut the door slowly.*
Axel: Mr. Guy... If you could... Please turn off the light. It's luxury is something that I do not deserve.
*The click of the light switch is heard as the last image before commercial is the shutting of the door on Axel as he sits... Surrounded by darkness.*
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Post by raftshack on Aug 1, 2007 10:56:01 GMT -5
We fade in, as we see the familiar face of Zeleke, upside down in a giant inflatable chair, eating a bag of popcorn, most of the pieces missing his mouth completely and getting all over the floor. He's clad in some kind of tie dye shirt and a pale purple skirt beneath that, with flip flops on his feet, as the crazy pink haired young man continues to enjoy his snack. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door, as everyone's favorite EWT nutcase, Armbar walks in.
Zeleke: *watching* Dove of love... you have come for visitation in a needed timing! I shall salute your brow for this act!!!
Armbar: Ummm... no, I'm just here because EWT wants an armbar. I don't armbar you.
Zeleke: Foolish ferret... why do you deny a definitive destiny?!
Armbar: Because I don't armbar that way. Now then, where's Armbar?
Zeleke: ... FABOON FABOON FABOON! Why is it of most importance that he ALWAYS has to cling to my buttocks like wad of gum?! I HAVE AN EXISTENCE OUTSIDE OF MY TAG TEAM CHUM YOU KNOW!
Armbar: A wad of armbar?
Zeleke dumps the bag into his mouth and quickly eats the remains, then wads it up and chucks it into a dumpster that somehow got inside this room. He cackles and looks right at Armbar's new mask.
Zeleke: Did your face receive a touch up?
Armbar: No... I just armbarred a new armbar. Since you ARMBARRED the last one!
Zeleke: Oh yes... that was a fun event.
Armbar: So, if Armbar isn't here, where is he?!
Zeleke: Am I that felon's secretarian?! I don't know... he went on a study!
The man hops off the chair, handstand walking over to a closet in the room, then flipping to his feet and opening the door, digging around for something.
Zeleke: Actually, now that I am of remembrance, I recall him saying something about studying how to defeat... the round and the tall ones. After all, our bout at The School of Cool will be an epic affair. We must prepare for our final confronting with the goons, at least that's what he told me. I'm just going along since I TOO want to defeat the mammoth and warthog!
Armbar: Well, they have constantly armbarred you two for awhile now.
The pink haired goon starts digging around, tossing random stuff aside, a tuba, a old time radio, a cowboy hat, a bunch of bananas.
Armbar: Of course that all started after Principal Armbar asked them to attack you.
Zeleke: I REMEMBER THIS! Don't remind me like a nagging nelly!
Zeleke continues digging around, before finding a cup of vanilla pudding, ripping it open and squeezing the contents into his mouth, gulping it down, slurping his lips with a grin. Armbar watches.
Armbar: You sure love to armbar...
Zeleke: OF COURSE INFIDELIC ONE! I am a creation that is fueled by energy. I MUST CONSUME ALL... or I will be greatly hindered. Do you want me slow as a mango?
Armbar: Ummmm...
Zeleke: Now leave myself... I must prepare to tackle the wanted Americans of DOOM.
Zeleke digs into the closet once more, pulling out what looks to be a sledgehammer, yelling loudly and charging at the camera, smashing it to pieces, as we almost instantly cut to a technical difficulties screen.
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jzbadblood
Unicron
Christ, man. Can't you see what's happening? Can't you read between the lines?
Posts: 3,052
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Post by jzbadblood on Aug 2, 2007 7:51:02 GMT -5
Announcer: In the ring to my left, weighing in at 210 pounds....Tim Jones!
A generic guy with a red and black singlet raises his arm and the crowd is dead. You can hear conversation in the audience. He starts stretching and is getting ready for the next contest. All of the sudden the lights in the arena turn off. When the lights come back on JZBadblood is standing the opposite of the enhancment talent in the ring! The fans in the arena are shocked! JZ is wearing red leather pants with black lightning designs on them. He has black paint designs all over his body and face. His hair is long and brown, taken back in a ponytail. He also has a beard that looks to have been growing since he was last seen in the EWT.
Commentator: What the hell is going on?
Color Commentator: Maybe this is a one time appearance or something? There is no news of JZBadblood being resigned, especially after he abandoned the EWT without warning last time.
JZ sprints at the young guy and boots him to the head sending him flying back into the turnbuckle. From there he starts striking the guy with fists, boots, and elbows in rapid succession. The kid falls down and JZ backs away before sprinting and booting his head again.
Color Commentator: Ohhhh! In that sandwich the bread was JZ's boot and turnbuckle..the guys head is the meat!
Commentator: That was lame..I'm getting word from officials with the EWT that this is an unscheduled appearance. The lights going out where not something the EWT is responsible for.
Color Commentator: Well, JZ has connections in the company. This might be his sad attempt to get re-instated.
JZ drags the guy to his feet by his neck and throws him into the middle of the ring. He stomps on his throat a few times and the ref gets in JZ's face. He shoves the ref aside and jumps onto the kids head with his knee.
Commentator: Vicious knee drop.
Color Commentator: That kid is out of it. This should be over soon.
JZ drags the guy to his feet by his hair and taunts to the audience while the kid falls back onto his knees. He then holsters him up onto his shoulders and hits a sick Death Valley Driver!
Commentator: He's hooking the leg!
1..2..3!
Color Commentary: It's over.
JZ stands up and music plays over the PA system that sounds like a bunch of 911 phone calls slighlty faded into the background over low sirens and some thumping beat. JZ slowly walks away from the ring through the crowd as the lights start to dim to complete darkness.
Commentator: Well...that was interesting. We'll be right back, and hopefully we can get the lights back on and some word on what the hell just happened.
Color Commentator: I doubt it.
*Commercial Break*
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Curly Long
AC Slater
Midget Wrestling Master
Posts: 234
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Post by Curly Long on Aug 2, 2007 11:09:46 GMT -5
Reminaing at ringside the camera can see Hornswaggle appear. He hops in the ring and then back out again. He gives a cheeky grin as he dives back under the ring. Meanwhile Lillian has got the microphone
LILLIAN: the next match is for one fall, making his way to the ring, from Spread Egle, Wisconsin ... Curly Long!!
No Music plays the crowd waits but nothing happens suddenly from under the ring appears Hornswaggle again but his time he looks horrified and looks to be trying to escape only he is dragged back under again. The crowd scans the ring until hornswaggle is suddenly thrown out with force hitting the barricade badly. his face is busted wide open. Following the shocking emergence out crawls ... Curly Long and he is holding a broken bottle. Curly gives a grin of contempt as he throws the bottle to one side and picks up Hornswaggle and pushes him into the ring.
The Bell Rings
Curly Long shakes his head and lifts Hornswaggle up and takes him out with a Curly Creamer!
1,2,3.
the Bell rings
LILLIAN: Your winner Curly Long!
As 'Moving on Up' begins to play Curly long shrugs wipes his hands and heads backstage. clearly unimpressed with his competiton this week
*Cut to commercial*
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