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Guys, I'm Srsly...; EP EI CZW "RP"
Topic Started: Jan 14 2011, 04:37 AM (73 Views)
El Pablo
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VIVA LA RAINBOWLUTION!!!

The scene begins with a video recap of the preceding Overdrive’s main event, in which Eddie Rowan, Mortius, Buzzsaw and El Pablo competed in a Four-Way Dance for the CZW World Heavyweight Championship. At our point of re-entry, Rowan, Mortius and EP are all laid out on the canvas, with Buzzsaw just beginning to force himself painfully to his feet…

-------------------------

DANIELS: "Buzzsaw is up, but quite barely. He stumbles around, as Mortius begins getting up himself. They look at each other, both in pain, and each beginning saying things we can't hear... It appears they are telling each other to bring it."

MASTERS: "Brilliant deduction, Sherlock."

DANIELS: "They stumble towards each other, and begin throwing lackluster punches at each other. The exchange is going back and forth, each man returning the shot the other gave just seconds before. Mortius suddenly kicked Buzzsaw in the gut. He's going for a vertical suplex... but Buzzsaw blocks it. Buzzsaw then kicks him in the gut, and the repeat of the suplex attempt.. but also blocked. Mortius uppercuts Buzzsaw in the throat, and goes to throw him into the stood up table in the corner! NO! BUZZSAW REVERSES!"

* SMASH!!! *

DANIELS: "Buzzsaw threw Mortius face first into the table, breaking it in half! Buzzsaw then capitolizes by picking Mortius back up... He underhooks both arms... BUZZKILLER!!!! THIS COULD BE IT!!"

* THUD *

MASTERS: "Buzzsaw is taking a moment, but he's back up... it looks like he's going to go for the cover!"

KEENAN: "Oh!"

DANIELS: "EL PABLO OUT OF NOWHERE!! He nails Buzzsaw with the Identity Crisis, that jumping double-arm DDT! Buzzsaw and Mortius are both out! EP can win it all right now!"

MASTERS: "Do it, El Peehole!"

KEENAN: "I thought that's who you were backing in this match."

MASTERS: "He's the one I like the most. Well, like isn't the right word. He's the one I hate the least."

DANIELS: "El Pablo also takes a moment to get back up... but he's slowly getting that way... WAIT!! EDDIE IS UP!! He runs at EP from behind.. he leaps! OH!!"

-------------------------


At this point, the footage switches to grainy black-and-white, and slows in speed, adding a rather solemn overtone to the events being witnessed.

-------------------------

MASTERS: "WHAT A MOVE!"

DANIELS: "ROWAN HITS EL PABLO WITH THE ENDGAME!! That deadly flipping headscissors takedown, and EP is out! Eddie is up! He looks around, and sees he is the only man standing! He goes to the corner nearest Mortius!"

MASTERS: "Crap, this could be it! He's climbing to the top!"

KEENAN: "Holy cow, this really could be it! Mortius is out! Buzzsaw is out! El Pablo is out!"

MASTERS: "And soon, I'll be out... out to dinner!"

DANIELS: "Rowan measures...."

* CLUMP!!!! *

DANIELS: "ST. EDWARD'S FALL ON TO MORTIUS!!!!! THE COVER!!!!"

ONE

TWO

THREE!!!!!!

* DING DING DING *

"Slip Slide Melting" plays over the PA again, as the crowd is going crazy. All four men are laid out, and the referee places the CZW World Heavyweight title in Eddie's arms.

TOWERS: "YOUR WINNER AND STILL CZW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.. EDDIE ROWAN!!"

-------------------------


Towers’ words fade into the distance, as Eddie’s celebrations are gradually engulfed in a thick layer of darkness. The audience is left to stew in empty silence for a few moments, before the sound of a ringing telephone penetrates the senses. The darkness clears, bringing into view a Blackberry, its screen illuminated with the name “D. Damage”. The camera begins to retreat in an upwards direction, revealing the Blackberry to be nestled in the top of a small black handbag, itself sat upon a plush, cherry-coloured couch. We also become aware of the hustle and bustle of human activity, although precisely what activity that is remains unknown. After a few seconds, a slender, noticeably-female arm enters the shot, the hand attached to the end of it gingerly taking hold of the Blackberry and removing it from its resting place. A quick glance at the screen, and the call is answered, the Blackberry being led out of shot towards the ear of its as-yet-unidentified owner.

FEMALE VOICE: ..Hello?

At this point, a thick black bar slides in from right of shot, dividing our screen in two. On one side, we continue to gaze down into the black handbag; on the other, we see the instantly-recognizable face of CZW President Derek Damage, sat at his desk inside his office. Two people stand just behind him - one either side - and despite only their torsos being visible, their uniforms identify them as members of Damage’s security force. Damage himself appears to be unusually calm, although the somewhat malevolent smile upon his face gives this calmness a rather more sinister air.

DAMAGE: Oh hello.. is that Cristal?

The camera on the left side now cuts, revealing the person on the other end of the line to indeed be El Pablo’s partner, her trademark mask as always strapped over her face, her long, dirty-blonde hair running down over the top and onto her shoulders. This change in shot also reveals Cristal to be stood inside a photography studio, with various out-of-focus crew members bustling about behind her around a set that looks to have been designed to replicate a locker room. Cristal’s expression is one of slight confusion; the diva apparently unsure as to Damage’s motives for contacting her directly.

CRISTAL: ..Yes, yes it is.

DAMAGE: Ah, hello Cristal! It’s Derek Damage here.

CRISTAL: Heyyy Mr Damage… Erm.. how are you?

DAMAGE: I’m fine thank you, my dear, and yourself?

CRISTAL: Oh, I’m fine.. just working a little photoshoot…

DAMAGE: Fantastic.. great news… Tell me Cristal.. your boyfriend, is he with you right now?

Cristal has a quick look round, although why exactly she does this is unclear, seeing as she obviously knows the answer already.

CRISTAL: Erm.. No, no.. he’s back at our hotel room, over in-

DAMAGE: -Suite 5, Park Hyatt Tokyo Hotel?

This in-depth knowledge of the two’s privately-booked accommodation details does little to abate Cristal’s confusion.

CRISTAL: Erm.. right. How.. how did you…

DAMAGE: Oh, never you mind that.. I have my methods. Listen, I’m sending one of my associates over there to give him a little “pep talk” ahead of this Elimination Tag match.. just to make sure we’re all on the right.. page.. sotospeak.

CRISTAL: Well.. alright, but why are you telling me?

DAMAGE: Trust me, my dear.. this is the kind of pep talk that’s best administered without any.. “collateral damage”.

Speak soon, sweetheart…


A somewhat sinister laugh escapes from Damage’s mouth as he hangs the phone up, the screen returning to a single shot as Cristal is left alone in her confusion. She taps the Blackberry lightly against her chin, staring blankly ahead as she presumably attempts to make sense of the conversation. After a moment or two, her eyes widen in apparent revelation, and she begins tapping frantically at the keypad…

-------------------------

The screen cuts, darkness once again overtaking the majority of the picture. What little light there is comes in the form of your standard “city lighting”, which filters in around the edges of what appear to be a series of large blinds, extended down over equally large windows. Whilst not exactly blinding, this light is at least enough to barely define the edges of various items of furniture, suggesting that we are inside some kind of hotel suite. As in the previous scene, the first major sound we hear is the ringing of a telephone, which is accompanied a few seconds later by the sound of someone or something moving rather clumsily about. The slightly muffled nature of these sounds of movement suggests that they are coming from another, currently sealed off part of the room, a suggestion confirmed a few seconds later by the sound of a door opening. Whilst the current light levels are not sufficient to get a positive ID on who or what has just stepped through it, we can at least make out that this character is making their way slowly across the room to the source of the ringing. The person stops in front of a small blue screen - presumably the telephone caller display - but rather than answer the phone, we instead see the person extend an arm to what looks vaguely like a light switch…

*CLICK*

Immediately, the room is drenched in light, revealing the figure to be none other than the Five Star Superstar, El Pablo. Typically, the mask that he has worn for the duration of this Japanese tour conceals the majority of his head and face, although the only other item of clothing he is currently wearing are a pair of black boxer shorts, suggesting that this phone call has just awoken him from some state of sleep. Groggily, EP takes hold of the phone, and lifts it to his ear as he turns to face towards the camera.

EL PABLO: HOLY FU-

Suddenly, EP dives onto the floor, the phone swinging down and crashing against the wall. The camera zooms in on the speaker, picking up a somewhat urgent voice on the other end of the line, as footsteps can be heard making their way across the floor of the hotel suite.

CRISTAL: Pablo? Hello?

..Pablo!?

..Are you there?

..Are you ok?


The camera watches as a hand slowly extends down and takes hold of the phone, then follows as the receiver is lifted up to the ear of the source of EP’s extreme surprise.. Karl “The Jackal” Jackson.

CRISTAL: ..Pablo! Talk to me!

Jackal listens for a moment, a smile every bit as malevolent as Damage’s on his face, as he listens to Cristal’s pleas.

JACKAL: Sorry, El Pablo is currently unavailable.. do please try again later!

With that, Jackal hangs the phone up, and turns to face EP, who has returned to his feet and stands behind one of the armchairs just across the floor. He is dressed in the manner in which we have become used to seeing him over the past few weeks; a smart black suit, worn over a plain white shirt and topped off with a red CZW-branded tie. While he appears almost sinister in his calm, EP is rather more agitated, apparently somewhat unnerved by Jackal’s presence.

EL PABLO: What the f**k are you doing, man!?

Jackal just smiles, making his way calmly across the room towards EP.

JACKAL: Mr Damage sent me over here to have a talk with you.

EL PABLO: ..and by “have a talk” he meant “break into his hotel suite and spy on him while he sleeps”!?

Jackal laughs; softly, almost menacingly, as he steps almost nose-to-nose with El Pablo.

JACKAL: ..Sit down.

EL PABLO: ..I’ll stand, thanks.

JACKAL: I wasn’t asking.

The two stare each other out for a moment, before EP raises his hands and steps back, taking a seat on a black leather couch in the centre of the “living area”. Jackal watches him, then takes a seat in the armchair directly opposite. Another brief silence follows, Jackal apparently in no hurry to get this “pep talk” started.

EL PABLO: ..So? Wassup?

Jackal laughs again.

JACKAL: Well.. as you know, this week sees the first large-scale, fully-sanctioned collision between CZW and The Renegades, live on Pay-Per-View. And, as you also know, the principle attraction of this little event is a 10-man, 5-a-side, Tag Team Elimination match, designed to determine who - officially speaking - draws “first-blood” in this little “disagreement”.

EL PABLO: I was aware of this, yes.

JACKAL: Well, you are presumably also aware of the stakes involved in such a match-up, and what exactly it would mean to the reputation of Mr Damage and this company were the Renegades to come out on top.

EL PABLO: Trust me, I don’t think Father Time’s reputation will be shaken too much, no matter how crushing the defeat; there’s only so far down you can go.

EP smirks, although the Jackal appears less amused, letting out a deep exhale as he gives his knuckles a crack.

EL PABLO: ..What? Come on, I’m just kidding! We’ve got this one in the bag, dawg!

JACKAL: ..It’s Jackal, actually.

EL PABLO: ..Scuse me?

JACKAL: You said “dawg”.. I’m the Jackal…

EP cocks his head slightly, apparently trying to determine whether Karl Jackson actually just made a joke. After a second or two, a grin spreads across his face, and he points an almost-triumphant finger across the room.

EL PABLO: Ahhhhh! See, I KNEW you had a sense of humour in there somewhere!

Jackal promptly gets up from the chair, still not looking much amused despite the joke.

JACKAL: Yes.. BUT, therein lies the point. See, while I consider myself more than capable of making the odd wise-crack or humorous observation every now and again.. I also know when it’s time to shut all that off, get into the zone and just be serious. You, on the other hand, don’t seem to able to make that distinction.

EL PABLO: Oh for god’s sake, this again? Really?

JACKAL: What were you planning on doing for your promo for this match?

EL PABLO: Erm.. I dunno.. I was thinking since Ace is the special referee, he and I could hook it up again, reminisce a little.. then, I dunno, go on some hilarious adventure that loosely references the current situation or opponents contained therein.

JACKAL: You see? “Hilarious adventure”. Everything’s a big joke to you, isn’t it? No matter what the situation, it’s always “how can I completely distract from the severity of the impending confrontation, and manipulate it to try and get a few cheap laughs?”

Well I tell you what, Pablo; you are NOT to see Ace King before we get to that arena on Sunday night!


EL PABLO: I’m NOT to see him?

JACKAL: That’s right.

EL PABLO: So what? You’re gonna screen my promos now? Tell me what I can and can’t put into them? Who do you think you are, my dad?

Suddenly, Jackal lunges forward, grabbing EP by the neck and hauling him up off the couch, bringing his face right up close and staring at him dead in the eye.

JACKAL: You listen to me, you little rodent! This tag match is arguably the most important in the entire f**ked-up history of this company, and I will be DAMNED if I’m gonna be forced to stand by and watch everything we’ve worked so hard for be laid to waste because one of the guys on our team decided to turn this thing into some stand-up comedy, cabaret routine!

EP struggles, trying to break free of Jackal’s grip.

EL PABLO: So what’s your plan? Cripple me? Take me out, and leave your team a man short before the bell even rings?

JACKAL: Believe me.. that’s a preferable end to what we have in store should we not get the desired result at Extreme Insurrection.

Jackal shoves EP back, dumping him back down on the couch.

JACKAL: I have word, direct from Derek Damage himself… If CZW loses this match, it will be YOU that is held personally responsible.

..Let’s see you try and get a laugh out of that.


With that, Jackal turns and makes his exit from the room. EP watches him go, a scowl on his face, as the scene fades to black.

-------------------------

The scene re-opens once more, now showing the familiar black silk backdrop of the CZW “Interview Zone”. Ryan Lewis stands on one side of the screen, as suited and booted as ever, his trusty microphone in his hand as he runs through a few last-minute checks. Beside him stands El Pablo, now dressed in his full ring-gear, although looking decidedly more stern and serious than normal. Just behind him is Cristal, also wearing her ring-gear, her hand gripping EP’s shoulder in unspoken support. After a few seconds, Ryan looks ready to begin.. however, he is interrupted by broadcast journalist Barry Keenan, who steps rather unapologetically through the shot on his way down the hallway.

LEWIS: Hey!

KEENAN: Bite me, narc!

Ryan glares at Keenan, although this is swiftly replaced by a look of surprise as EP sets off in pursuit of his adversary.

LEWIS: Wha-wait.. EEPZ! What the…

Cristal shrugs apologetically at Ryan as she follows after EP, who by now has managed to halt Keenan’s advance, right in-front of a conveniently-placed, almost identical curtain to the one they were stood by originally.

EL PABLO: Hey, Bazza! How’d you fancy conducting an exclusive interview with one of the men set to give your boys a good old fashion ass-whooping live on Pay-Per-View this weekend?

KEENAN: Ohhh, as much as I fancy contracting hepatitis from intercourse with Jena Cyde.. you’d know about that, right?

EL PABLO: HA.. funny. Look, we’ve got a camera right here.. I’ve got a microphone.. there’s a backdrop.. give these people what they want.

Keenan glares at EP, but then rolls his eyes and snatches the microphone from out of EP’s grasp.

KEENAN: ..Fine. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m standing here wi-

EP suddenly snatches the microphone back, and steps into the centre of shot.

EL PABLO: FIRST OF ALL.. I’d like to address a little rumour that appears to have been circulating around the backstage area over the past few weeks.

Well, no.. I guess it’s one that’s been going around pretty much since I started out here in CZW.

See, a lot of people seem to have got this impression that, because I spend a lot of my on-screen time making jokes and cracking wise, that somehow translates to me not taking this business seriously. Well let me assure you right now, that is NOT the case! Sure, I like to laugh it up during my promos.. I like to send myself on the occasional surreal adventure every now and again.. but to those members of the roster watching this now, who think that my tendency toward comedy means I don’t care, or appreciate the seriousness of exactly what it is we do for a living.. let me ask you this:

I’m a Grand Slam Champion.. the only man in the history of this company to achieve that title. X, Tag, Intercontinental, World.. at some time or another, ALL these belts have spent some time around my waist. I have spent more days of my employment with a championship in my possession, than half of you have spent days here PERIOD.

I am, without question, the most successful superstar in the history of this company, and if I’ve achieved all of that despite not taking this job seriously.. then what the f**k does that say about the rest of you!?



But, since you asked so nicely.. I’ll play it your way.

Barry, would you care to begin the interview?


EP hands the microphone back to Keenan, who sighs and rolls his eyes once more.

KEENAN: Christ.. okay. El Pablo, this Sunday night you team up with Eddie Rowan, Mortius and Buzzsaw, to take on some of the most awe-inspiring talent in the wrestling world today. My first question to you is this; Do you feel ANY remorse at all for turning your back on the Renegades in their hour of need, forcing them out of the company and leaving them to rot in the wrestling wilderness?

EL PABLO: I’m actually glad you asked that question Barry, because it’s one that I feel hasn’t properly been addressed since the Renegades first decided to pursue this little vendetta against us.

Now, obviously Alan and his friends are rather upset at the fact that, when Damage through together his bullshit Damage Control initiative, none of us surviving roster members took it upon ourselves to take a stand, and refuse to go through with it. Now, while that may be true, it’s also true that there were at least TWO people competing in all those matches; and yet NONE of us decided to take a step back and say, “Hold on a second, this isn’t right!”

It’s very easy to come out and plead betrayal after the fact, but ask yourself this, Barry; did the Renegades at any point show ANY intention of doing the very thing they’re now attacking us for?

No, they did not.

And do you know why?

Because, quite simply, their egos wouldn’t allow them to entertain even slightly the possibility that they might lose.

Think about it Barry; do you REALLY think a man as self-absorbed and egotistical as Jesse Montana is gonna let himself think he might wind up on the losing side at some point? Christ, even when I took his World Heavyweight Championship he managed to convince himself it was all part of an elaborate ploy on his part! Hell, Sawyer’s ego grew to such an extent he thought he was actually running the show! So there was no way on this earth that any of those guys would even have given a second thought to “taking a stand” before these matches, and it’s only now those precious egos have been shattered that they’re feeling all butt-hurt because WE didn’t either.

The most ridiculous thing about it all is, if they’d focused their efforts at retribution on Damage himself, those of us remaining still gladly would have taken their side! We ALL thought the Damage Control initiative was a bad idea.. still do, in fact! But, we’re now forced to effectively defend it, thanks to the Renegades coming back and making this whole thing personal by targeting US.


KEENAN: An interesting story, Pablo.. pretty far from accurate where I’m standing, but entertaining nonetheless. Let’s talk now about your opponents; Five of the most talented superstars in the history of professional wrestling, every single one of them baying for the blood of you and your rag-tag band of team-mates. Team CZW doesn’t stand a chance here, right?

EP allows a brief, sarcastic laugh to escape from between his lips.

EL PABLO: Well Barry, there’s no doubt that the guys we’re set to face are some of the most talented people I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with. But, what you appear to be forgetting is that those five men are all in the position they are now because they were bested at some time or another by the guys on MY side. Alan Fiscus lost his job because he was bested by Eddie Rowan.. Sam Attic lost his job because he was bested by yours truly - twice.. Jesse Montana lost his job because he was bested by a guy who doesn’t even wrestle anymore.. Justin Marsham lost his job because of an injury suffered at the hands of yours truly.. and Godzilla Sawyer.. well, Godzilla Sawyer lost his job because he went crazy and thought he was the General Manager. But, that notwithstanding, you wouldn’t exactly be committing perjury by billing this as a winners vs. losers match.

Now, just so I don’t get accused of not taking this match seriously enough.. I suppose I should talk about each of these guys “in-depth”.

You’ve got Godzilla Sawyer, a guy I’ve known since right back at the start of this company.. a guy I could, at one time, have called my friend. I dunno what the f**k happened to make him lose it quite as much as he has, and really he more than anyone has less reason to hold a grudge against the CZW roster. After all, he wasn’t DC’d because he lost a match.. he was DC’d on a technicality, because of his own ego! But, whatever, if he wants to play this game he’s more than welcome; I had the beating of him back in the day when I drove him head-first through a flaming table and took the CZW X-Title.. I can damn sure have the beating of him again now!

After Sawyer, it kinda becomes a “Who hates El Pablo more?” show. Obviously, the history between myself and Jesse Montana needs no explanation. Since pretty much day 1 the two of us have seemingly crossed paths on a regular basis; first with AMP XTC against the Upstarts.. then with Team XTC against the System of Supremacy.. then with me taking his World Heavyweight Championship.. and it’s kind of just gone on from there. Admittedly, it’s simmered down a little recently - the last time we fought each other was almost two years ago now.. but believe me, I’m MORE than ready to resume hostilities!

Now, another man with whom I’ve not crossed swords for some time is Justin Marsham. Wow, that was some bolt from the blue when you jumped me back in Kobe, I tell you! It felt like Summer 2009 all over again!

Of course, you’ve made no secret of the fact that I contributed to the long absence you’ve had to endure; and while I truly am sorry about your injury problems.. I will make no apologies for getting a little payback for that attack this Sunday night.

Don’t forget.. the last time you were here, I had you beat FOUR times on the bounce, not to mention taking that Intercontinental title you love so much. Sunday night, you get to experience lucky number five!

And so, we come to the dynamic duo.. the brothers in arms.. “Psycho” Sam Attic.. and Alan Fiscus.

Now, Sam has obvious reason to be pissed at me.. you know, seeing as I took his title and then cost him his job in just a matter of weeks. But that hatred appears to be well and truly eclipsed by the one felt by his older brother.

Now Alan, while the rivalry between us has never really grabbed the headlines here in the CZW, that isn’t to say it hasn’t always been there, bubbling just underneath the surface. It’s been what, 2 and a half years now since you cost me a shot at becoming King of Combat? And yet, if anything, we’re more bitter enemies now than we ever have been. Oh sure, you’ve had the breakdowns over Covey, the bloodletting with Montana and O’Toole.. the general disgust at Cage Stryker.. But it seems that I’m the one who REALLY gets your blood boiling. I dunno whether it’s the outfits, or the fact that I don’t fear you as much as you think I should.. what I DO know is, if you hate this mask now.. you’re gonna hate it that much more when it’s standing over you in victory this Sunday night.

So, there you have it. This Sunday night, five guys will step into the ring hell-bent on wreaking their revenge, dishing out some pain, and fighting their way back into the jobs they feel were so unjustly taken from them. Unfortunately for them, in undertaking this quest, they’ve found themselves attracting the ire of the most talented collective ever assembled by the president of a professional wrestling federation on a one-match basis!

The Hardcore Icon..

The Shadow..

The Human Highlight Reel..

The Clown, The Killer, The Saint..

And of course, the Five.. Star.. Superstar!

EP suddenly thumps his fist up against his chest, and begins to draw in a HUGE theatrical intake of breath, before extending his fist towards the camera.

EL PABLO: ..Bouche.


DIRECTOR: Annnnd cut!

EL PABLO: You know, coz it’s “Team Eddie”, right?

The screen fades to black.
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