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Back In The Saddle; EP RP FTMFW
Topic Started: Aug 15 2009, 12:51 AM (163 Views)
El Pablo
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VIVA LA RAINBOWLUTION!!!

The scene opens backstage at a CZW house show. A standard-issue fire door stands in the centre of the shot, unopened, quietly going about its business against the frenzied backdrop of commotion and conversation one would expect to find at any such occasion as this. Gradually, however, the noise slowly begins to die down, the arena eventually descending into a rather eerie silence as the sound of a combustion engine becomes audible, rumbling from the other side of the door. A few moments pass, and the engine cuts out, replaced soon after with the click and slam of a car door. The last two sounds repeat, presumably this time the result of the trunk being opened and closed, and a pair of footsteps make their way towards the fire door. Another pause.. and then the door flies open, a hail of cheers and applause greeting the arrival of the Five Star Superstar.. CZW’s EPIC Grand Slam Champion.. El Pablo. He walks down the corridor, dressed in full ring gear, his mouth smiling and his hands raised in recognition of the ovation being offered towards him. An attractive young woman approaches, clutching a small autograph book tightly to her chest. She offers it to EP, who gleefully takes hold, removing a pen from his waistband and holding it to the paper.

EL PABLO: Hey there! An autograph? Sure! What’s your name?

GIRL: Ja..

EL PABLO: Beautiful! There you go, sweetheart! Take it easy now!

EP scribbles his signature across the page, then hands the book back to his smiling fan, stroking her cheek softly with his hand before continuing on his way down the corridor. Another, slightly older woman approaches, clutching in different hands a large cup of Pepsi and a small child. EP takes the cup off her, and takes a sip of the chilled beverage through the straw. He hands it back to the woman, and kisses the child on the forehead, before once again continuing his journey.

EL PABLO: Thank god I didn’t mix those two up!

CZW’s chief of security, Casey “Big Daddy” Rogers comes into view, leaning back against the wall whilst making some notes on a clipboard.

EL PABLO: Casey! What up dawg? Y’all keep those little Trekkies away from my locker room, feel me? Sweet!

EP “shoots” at Casey with a wink, the security chief simply nodding in response. EP turns and walks a few more feet down the corridor, before coming to a stop alongside the closed door of the Team XTC locker room. He pauses charismatically, then grabs hold of the handle and pushes the door open. He steps halfway inside, and immediately jumps back out, yelping in apparent surprise at something inside.

EL PABLO: Oh! Oh hey! I didn’t expect to see you here..

EP steps inside, closing the door behind him. The camera cuts to the interior of the locker-room, El Pablo now shown standing in front of the freshly-closed door. Whatever it was that made the Five Star Superstar jump is not currently visible, but the direction of the EPIC Champion’s eyes suggest that at least part of it is somewhere near head-height.

EL PABLO: ..How you doing? You okay?

The camera slowly pans round, revealing Ruthless Aggression sat on one of the benches, wearing a strategically-ripped XTC shirt and tight blue jeans. Her hands are pressed down on the top of the bench, and a scowl is etched across her face, Ruth presumably still feeling the effects of the Cage of Doom aftermath at Fade 2 Black. She slowly gets up from the bench, and takes a step towards El Pablo.

RUTHLESS: Do I look okay!? I still have a big f**king lump on my forehead where that asshole Hix cracked me with a sledgehammer! Not to mention all the bruises I got from his new Brokeback bitch buddies! I pinned his ass, I proved myself to him and everyone else, and yet - like the f**king cocksucker he is - he decides to get his cronies to beat the hell out of me after the match! Well I have had it, Pablo! You hear me? I have f**king HAD IT!!!

EP recoils slightly, throwing his arms up towards the seething Ruthless.

EL PABLO: Woahhhhhh! Time out Ruthie! Chillax yourself!

EP tentatively places a reassuring hand on Ruth’s shoulder, a soft smile on his face.

EL PABLO: I’ve got Hix in the main event this week. You just leave him to me. I’ll make sure he receives the EPIC beatdown he thoroughly deserves. Five Star Guaranteed, Hix is gonna feel the full force.. of a Ruthlessly Aggressive.. El Pablo Experience.

EP gives a thumbs up, but Ruthless continues to scowl, apparently unimpressed by EP’s promise.

RUTHLESS: No. This is my fight, not yours. I’m not just gonna stand back and let some dickshiner in a suit make a mockery out of me! Hix is going down, yeah.. but it’s gonna be ME that knocks every single one of those shit-talking teeth down his throat!

EP sighs, then nods his head.

EL PABLO: Okay. That’s fine. You wanna be the one to dish out the XTC justice? That’s cool with me, I completely understand. All I ask.. is that you hold off until AFTER the match. I don’t want Hix to have the satisfaction of saying I only won because someone helped me out. Between those two sets of bells, he’s all mine. After that.. fill your boots.

A silence follows, Ruth apparently weighing up the proposition in her mind. Finally, she nods her head.

RUTHLESS: Okay. You have your way with him during the match. I won’t touch him. As soon as that bell rings, though.. I am going to break every bone in his f**king body!

EP just smiles.

EL PABLO: And the scary thing is.. I know you actually would!

EP and Ruthless continue their conversation as the scene fades, only to resume soon after, this time broadcasting from inside the main arena, overlooking the ring. The lights go down, and the opening guitar tones of “Rebel Rebel” shimmer out across the arena, sending the audience delirious with excitement. The drums kick in, and a wall of pyro signals the emergence of El Pablo onto the stage, his hands raised triumphantly above his head. EP stands at the top of the ramp, his EPIC and Grand Slam belts shimmering under the flickering lights, soaking in the atmosphere before bounding down the ramp and into the ring. He gets to his feet, and collects a microphone from one of the stagehands before marching over to one of the turnbuckles and climbing up, raising his fists to the roaring crowd once again. Some more moment-savouring, and then EP hops down, taking up position in the centre of the ring and raising the microphone to his lips.

EL PABLO: GUESS WHO’S BACK!!!

The crowd pops again, a huge “PABLO” chant breaking out as EP pauses to once again bask in the adulation being afforded to him.

EL PABLO: Okay.. so it’s only been a few weeks since I was “officially” in action, but still, I missed you guys!

Another cheap pop.

EL PABLO: So.. Fade 2 Black, that was quite a show, huh? A new Ultraviolent Champion, a new X-Champion..

EP lowers the mic briefly, thumping his chest with his fist and extending it out towards the camera, a gesture presumably directed at his stablemate and now former X-Champion, Krimzon Blaze.

EL PABLO: ..and Cage Stryker, Mr High Definition, FINALLY - please dear GOD - putting an end to the near-millennium-long feud between him and “Canada’s Least Likely to Realise a Lost Cause When He Sees One” Tim Timmons!

A large “HD” chant breaks out, EP clapping along briefly before motioning for silence.

EL PABLO: Yeah, great stuff. Believe me, I’m as happy as any of you that Cage is staying champ for another week at the least!

BUT.. I am out here tonight, to address a different, altogether more shocking incident from that Pay-Per-View.

I am out here tonight, to address.. this.


EP points towards the CombatTron as the big screen flickers into life, showing footage from the end of the Cage of Doom match at Fade 2 Black.

----------

The two women grab TJ and hit with a double Russian legsweep, then drape him over the top rope. In unison, they hit with dropkicks to TJ’s shoulderblades, driving him again face first into the steel, this time into a mass of barbed wire! TJ Hix is cut open and blood streams down his face as he drops to the mat. Sirena steps back and gives the pin to Ruth, who adds insult to injury with a final Lights Out moonsault onto her enemy.

One...

Two...

THREE!
Jessica Towers: “Your winners...Ruthless Aggression and Sirena Starr!”

Ruth and Sirena begin to celebrate...then the lights of the arena go out.

Masters: “Uh oh! I bet this spell trouble for the ladies.”

Jarred: “Do you know something about this?”

Masters: “Where have you been the past year and a half, Daniels? The lights going out is almost always bad news for the ones the fans like! Check your history!”

When the lights come back on, there are three men in the ring surrounding the winners of the match and the cage has already been lifted out of the way. All three men wear blue jeans and denim jackets. One of them has face paint somewhat reminiscent of Sting in his red-and-black days, one wears a rudo style red and black mask with devils horns on the top, and the third man has white face paints with some black around his eyes and lips, almost like a goth mime. Without warning, they lay into Sirena and Ruth as Boss Hix and Silencio compose themselves off to the side. Hix give Silencio a command and the masked man digs under the ring, retrieving a sledgehammer. Hix approaches the women as the three men back away. With brutal aim, Hix hits Sirena Starr and Ruthless Aggression twice each with the sledgehammer, then he laughs at them as the audience boos loudly. Together, the five men walk back to the locker rooms, Hix still laughing all the way.

Jarred: “Someone get some help here! Those two are hurt!”

Masters: “You see, Jarred? Ruth may have pinned Hix there, but he may have put her out! Who REALLY won this match?”

Jarred: “You are as despicable as they are.”


----------

The scene cuts back to the ring, where El Pablo is staring solemnly at the CombatTron, his arms folded across his chest. He slowly raises the microphone back to his lips, although his eyes don’t deviate from the frozen image of Ruthless and Sirena lying decimated on the canvas.

EL PABLO: You know.. I’ve seen a lot of sick, disgusting shit in my time.. but the sight of FIVE fully-grown men kicking the crap out of two women has to be right up there with Tim Tomnims Goes Goatse!

And for anyone who’s had the misfortune of seeing that particular feature.. I just wanna be clear, it was NOTHING to do with us! You might find it hard to believe, but there are some things even Ed will refuse to put on film!


EP pauses, apparently trying his hardest not to vomit on the spot, a quick scan of the crowd revealing that he’s not the only one. After a couple of seconds, he composes himself, and returns to his address.

EL PABLO: Anyway, I’m making light of a heinous attack here, sorry..

...

TJ HIX..


A chorus of boos instantly rings around the arena at the mention of “The F’N Boss”.

EL PABLO: What sort of cowardly.. heinous.. PATHETIC individual needs to rope in four of his buddies to kick the shit out of a woman, huh?

That’s not to say Ruth can’t handle herself, please dear GOD don’t anyone think that’s what I’m saying.. but come on! I mean, I know you’d just been proved to be an inferior competitor to her, having had your shoulders pinned 1, 2, 3 to the mat, but did that stunt you pulled afterwards REALLY make you look any more of a man?

And as if that wasn’t enough, Hix, you then decide to come out and predict yourself running roughshod over ME!?


EP leans back, laughing theatrically. Suddenly, though, the smile is wiped from his face, and he stares right down the camera lens with a steely glare.

EL PABLO: Gimme an “F’N” break.

The crowd laughs at this brilliant pun, although EP’s expression does not soften to any great extent.

EL PABLO: I don’t know what CZW you’ve been watching recently, Bossman, but it sure hasn’t been this one! You talk about me winning “some sort of acknowledgement”..

Well, yeah.. if you mean, becoming the first ever X-Champion..


CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..holding that title for over FOUR MONTHS..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..becoming one half of the first Global Tag-Team Champions..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..becoming the first World Heavyweight Champion from outside the United States..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..becoming the first Superstar of the Year..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..becoming the first person in CZW history to have held all FOUR major titles..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..spending more days as a champion than any other superstar in CZW history..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..and co-founding the longest-running, most dominant stable in ALLLLL of CZW..

CROWD: WOOOOO!!!

..then yes, I suppose you could say I’ve won “some sort” of acknowledgement.

But honestly, Hix, must we REALLY go down this old road again? Surely the whole “EP’s a joke” thing is getting a little old now? How many more people must I destroy before you people understand that making claims like this just does NOT end with good times for you!? Shit, two of your closest associates have found out first-hand exactly what I’m capable of! I took Jesse Montana’s World Heavyweight Championship, and this right here..


EP unfastens the EPIC title belt from around his waist.

EL PABLO: ..came right from around the waist of your very own “Knight”, Mr Justin Marsham!

EP lets out a sigh, draping the belt over his shoulder.

EL PABLO: Whatever, I’m past caring what people like you and your boys think of my credentials. Just bring your ass to the ring this Saturday, we’ll see who ultimately ends up looking like “The Retard From Doof-ville”. Nice eighth-grading, by the way. Who are you trying to be, Gregory Grantham? What’s next, “El Bumlo” or something like that?

Heh.. I could so easily respond in kind and make a comment about you getting beaten up by a girl, but fortunately for you, the girl in question will kick my ass if I do!

Fortunately, I get the freedom to choose to avoid her wrath. You, on the other hand, will not be so lucky. I’d advise getting another eye or two attached to the back of your head for this match, Mr “F’N Boss”.. because as of Fade 2 Black, you’re stuck right in the “F’N Crosshairs”. And believe me..

Hell hath no fury, like Ruthless.. F**king.. Aggression.


The crowd pops in pre-emptive support of a TJ Hix ass-whooping, as EP pauses once more, nodding along as he looks around.

EL PABLO: So, that’s pretty much it. Consider this war between Team XTC and The Montantourage on. But heed this, peepholes..

EP steps towards the ropes, and stares right down into the camera lens.

We’re no mere Upstarts..

..and if you think you’re just gonna step on up and see us Exiled..

..I’d suggest you take a real good look at the history of the TRUE System of Supremacy within the CZW.

Because, while we may have been perceived to be under the control of a Gambler..

..heh..

..we ain’t playing around anymore.

Turn that shit up.


“Guerrilla Radio” by Rage Against The Machine hits, and EP steps back into the centre of the ring, dropping the mic to the floor and raising the EPIC belt one more time above his head, as the scene fades to black.
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