| EWE ONE NIGHT ONLY 2017 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 8 2017, 08:09 AM (65 Views) | |
| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:09 AM Post #1 |
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The show finally begins. For the crowd, this couldn't have come any sooner. Since early 2015, EWE had not put on a single production, and the fans were done with this hiatus. They need their fucking fix. And they need it fucking now. Michael Cole: Welcome everyone, to EWE One Night Only! Matt Striker: It's our first show in almost two years, and you can be damn right it's going to entertain! Not much time is wasted showing off the arena before shit starts going down. That's EWE for you. Large red fireworks boom from the entrance of the stage immediately catches the crowds attention. Ready for a big entrance, Rooker falls face first onto the stage. Trying to save his dignity, Rooker attempts to look as though he is instead attempting to do a roll, however this idea only comes to him a good 3 seconds after he has already fallen flat on his face. He attempts to roll, but awkwardly flips himself onto his back, an act which clearly hurts him. Matt Striker: Oh, look. It's Rooker. Another figure comes onto the stage, one who some may recognise as Rooker's friend Norman. He runs over to Rooker and lifts him to his feet, but Rooker breaks away from Norman as soon as he can, smiling and waving at the audience as though none of what just happened, happened. Norman gives Rooker a pat on the back as Rooker points for Norman to go backstage, and Norman obliges. Michael Cole: He looks oddly friendly, today. Matt Striker: Maybe he's had enough to drink. As Rooker walks down to the ring, he pulls one of the many whiskey bottles from a belt that hangs around him from shoulder to waist, one that is clearly meant to hold grenades, but that Rooker has found his own purpose for. As he takes a sip from the bottle, Norman comes back onto the stage, carrying two wooden stools and a small wooden table, somehow able to balance them all as he follows his friend to the ring. Michael Cole: Now that, is balance. Despite his current state, Rooker attempts to get into ring via climbing the top rope, and of course, botches the attempt. Once in the ring however, and with a mic in hand, Rooker looks ready to speak. Rooker And you all thought I was dead! Rooker smiles matter of factly, as the crowd look at one another confused. Rooker Well if I was dead, how could I do this?! With the mic still to his mouth, Rooker, with the other hand, pours the contents of the whiskey bottle down his throat, the crowd able to hear every gory sound thanks to Rooker holding the mic to his throat. The crowd give gasps of shock as Rooker guzzles the entire thing, the sounds of gulping and swallowing seizing to stop ringing through the air. Norman sits on one of the stools he's set up, smiling at his friend proudly. Rooker polishes the whole thing off, and gives another grin. Rooker Impressive, huh?! Rooker nods, Norman claps. Norman That WAS impressive, Dom! Norman slaps his knee excitedly. Rooker You all think I'm the same old Dom Rooker! But I ain't! I'm a new and improved person! I learnt a few tricks while I was gone. Watch this. Rooker throws the empty bottle up into the air, before reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulling out a gun. He aims up into the air at the bottle, getting ready to shoot at it. The crowd anticipate seeing the bottle shatter into little shards of glass as it soars through the air, right in front of their very eyes. Michael Cole: ... Matt Striker: ... But it doesn't. The bottle starts to fall, before it lands on the announce table in front of the two commentators. Striker and Cole laugh. Michael Cole: Well, for a second there, I thought we were going to be seeing Rooker shoot the bottle out of mid-air. Matt Striker: Seems he missed his window. Striker continues to laugh, but Cole refrains from doing so this time, looking quite worriedly at the ring. Michael Cole: Umm... Matt... Striker looks up at the ring, too, to see Rooker still aiming the gun at the bottle. Matt Striker: Shit! The two jump to the floor as Rooker fires, causing the bottle to explode into pieces. The crowd duck as glass rains down on them. Rooker Whoo! Who else has accuracy like that ladies and gentlemen! Who else in this business can do something that fan-dabbi-dosy! Not Brock Lesnar! That's who! Norman No, NOT him! Rooker And you know what they say! If you can't fan-dabbi-dose, you can't fan-dabbi-do! And if you can't fan-dabbi-do, then you just ain't cut out for this business. I'm sick o' queer boys like Brock Lesnar, strolling on in here, with their big juicy pecs, and their supple abs... and Brock! I wanna take you out for a drink! Right now! Rooker points at the table that Norman sits at. Rooker I want you to prove you're more than just a pretty face for me to ruin. Come out here and I'm gonna wine and dine you boyo! I mean it! Get sat down at this table, and we'll see what you got! You can suplex suckers as many times as you want, but you know what they say! The secret to a man's art, is his stomach! And if that's true, then I am an artist! My stomach is iron! Iron! Norman Oh it's IRON! Rooker And your's Brocky-boy? Styrofoam. Or, whatever cardboard's made of. We'll figure it out. Come on out here and let's see for ourselves shall we? The crowd make 'ooh' sounds as Brock Lesnar slowly walks out onto stage. He is wearing an utterly tasteless outfit - a sleeveless shirt with some tacky ribcage design on it, tracksuit pants, and a pair of bright white Nike trainers. He looks like he would quite easily fit in squatting around a fire in a bin with a group of slavs. Brick does not take his eyes off of Dom Rooker as he stands on the ramp and Rooker doesn't cower away like a lil' pussy, he stares right back. Norman just stands around. After appearing to give it some thought, Bruck decides that it is time. Time to hop. As we all know by now, hopping between two feet is the universal sign that Breck is about to make his way down to the ring and unleash hellfire and destruction on whoever is in the immediate vicinity. Rooker knows this, but he remains firmly stood in the center of the ring. Matt Striker: Rooker might regret asking Brock to come down here! Michael Cole: I have nothing to add to that to be honest, but I agree with you The hopping ritual is complete. Brock begins his descent down the ramp. He does not do the arm swing/scream combination though, as that is strictly reserved for when he is making his entrance to compete in a match, and not for any other kinds of in-ring exchange. Brock climbs the steel steps and enters the ring through the middle rope. Rooker still stands his ground, and Brock stares daggers into him as he walks by to collect a microphone. Once the microphone has been successfully passed into Brock's gargantuan palm, the music stops and a silence falls upon the arena. After the silence becomes daunting, and only then, Brock speaks for the first time. Brock Lesnar Let me ask you a question, you sad, sad excuse for a man... Rooker looks like he is about to fire back, but Norman stops him. The crowd cheer. Brock Lesnar What's the reason for you being here? Huh? Are you here to fight? Or are you here to stand in the ring and drink whiskey all damn night like some kind of alcoholic? Brock signals to the table that has been set up in the ring with two big glasses of beer poured into them. Brock Lesnar Did you really call me out here, did you really decide to waste my time... So that you can challenge me to a drinking contest? Are you some kinda retard? Are you a retarded man? Rooker growls. Brock carries on, with an increasingly angry tone. Brock Lesnar First of all, I don't drink beer. There are only three liquids in this world that I drink, and just because you took the time to invite me out here, I'll list them for you. One: Flavourless protein shakes. Two: Milk. Three: The blood of anyone who stands in my way, and you'll find that out first hand when we meet back in this ring later tonight. The thing is, I can't help but feel that you're treating all this like it's some kind of cute joke, you and your little fuck friend over there. Brock nonchalantly points to Norman. Brock Lesnar You think this is just a fun game. Well, I don't play games. I come out to the ring, and I dominate, and I leave. That's all I do. I don't know how things worked on the little minor leagues that you're used to, but if you really think that you're going to get me out here and make me take part in a freakin' drinking contest, if you think that you're going to leave here tonight on your own two feet, then you're badly wrong. See, I don't think you properly understand what you're walking into tonight. I don't think you understand what happens to people that I face in this ring. You think waking up with a hangover from all the toxic liquids you constantly take in is bad? Try waking up in the hospital with a broken freaking body. Brock walks over to the table and looks the glasses up and down. Brock Lesnar Tonight, I think you've got a harsh reality check coming. This isn't some bar fight you're walking into. This is a fight with Brock Lesnar. And when you get into a fight with Brock Lesnar, it's not something you do a second time. I've got one thing on my mind, and one thing only - Leaving you in a bloody heap of flesh and feces in this ring. You name anyone considered an all time great in this industry, I've destroyed them. The Rock. Triple H. The Undertaker. John Cena. .. And they were all sober when they tried to go toe to toe with me. They're all a thousand times the man you are. So now I'm gonna give you a question that I actually want to hear an answer to. Brock turns his attention back to Rooker. Brock Lesnar What makes you think that you're on my level? What makes you think that you actually have a shot tonight? Just as Rooker is about to angrily retort, Brock adds a vital addition to the question. Brock Lesnar You pathetic sack of horse shit? Rooker glares at Lesnar, who glares right back, looking so furious that steam appears to be coming out of his nostrils, and his complexion gets more and more scarlet by the second. Rooker himself looks dreadfully angry, his hands clenched into fists, his shoulders wobbling randomly as he looks to be loosening them up for an exchange. He puts the mic to his lips. Rooker OoooooOoooooOoooooo! Norman starts to clap. Norman You TELL him, Dom! Rooker Allow me to introduce to you, Mr. Brocky Boy, my compadre here... Norman stands up and beats his own chest proudly. Rooker His name's Norman! Now you might think 'Norman! That sounds like a queer's name! That sounds like the name of the last dude I made squeal louder than myself! That sounds like the man with an asshole redder than my God damn face!' Norman's smile falters slightly as he looks worriedly over at his friend, hoping the point soon changes. Rooker Well that's where you'd be wrong sugar! Norman is one of the toughest sons o' bitches I've ever seen with my two eyes! He's trained at fighting Ostriches! You know that! He's a trained Ostrich fighter! And Ostriches are tougher than you fuckin' think! Norman Gotta aim for the neck, that's the secret. Rooker So you're looking right now at a tough as nails, no nonsense guy. Norman That's what they call me, No Nonsense Norman. Rooker laughs. Rooker You hear that? No Nonsense Norman! Rooker walks over to the table and lifts up one of the glasses filled with beer. He passes it over to his friend with a smile, before picking the other one up for himself. He clinks the glass with Norman's. Rooker Cheers. Norman Cheers! Norman gives a big grin as he and Rooker start to drink from the glasses. Norman Yee-Hah! SMASH! Rooker shatters his glass over Norman's head, cutting the top of his head open, and causing him to sway back and forth. Rooker takes the other glass out of Norman's hand, just before Norman teeters and splats on the mat, his head an absolute mess of blood. Rooker looks down at him with a hint of guilt, but no more than a hint. Rooker I'm sorry, friend. He looks back up at Lesnar, before taking another swig of the beer. Rooker You know how many ostriches have pecked the top o' Norman's head? Huh? Plenty. And that skin o' his stays right where it is. And those ostriches, they have a mighty peck. But my peck is mightier. See, you can be as tough as you want to be Brocko, you can have the strength and the crowd and the history, but you don't have the talent that I have which really matters tonight. And that's making people bleed. Rooker takes another swig. Lesnar stands, continuing to look furious, continuing to look absolutely crimson. Rooker You can suplex me, you can throw me, you can slam me. I'm sure you will, plenty a' times. But all I need, is one small opportunity, to nick that head o' yours open. I can see just the point where I'm gonna do it too. And I can't fuckin' wait, just looking at ye' it seems there's so much blood just boiling up inside right now, just waiting to flow on out. Rooker takes another swig. Rooker You've bust people open before I know, you're no rookie. But not like I have. You're not close to what I am. Rooker takes one last swig, before smashing the glass over his head the same way he did Norman. He grins as the beer flows over his face, but not a cut is to be seen. Rooker I'm the fuckin' Bloodtaker. Brock stares into the face of Rooker before breaking into a smirk. This is not an average everyday smirk though, this is a Brocksmirk™ As we all know, this variant of the smirk does not symbolise happiness or any kind of friendliness. The Brocksmirk™ is actually used to show the exact opposite emotions to this. To say the least, and to keep this description as short and to the point as possible, let it just be said that Brock is feeling rather pissed the fuck off. Brock Lesnar Dom. I'm not going to even try to respond to what you just said to me, because I have absolutely no idea what just came out of your mouth. You said something about ostriches? You beat your friend there over the head and now he's unconscious. Again, none of this matters to me. I'm not here tonight to stand here and exchange nonsense back and forth with some redneck. I've said it before, and I'll probably have to say it a thousand more times before anyone around here gets the message. I'm not a wrestler, I'm not here for the drama. The only reason you see me here before you tonight Brock turns his attention to the crowd briefly Brock Lesnar Is because I'm getting a fat paycheck to show up and kick ass. I don't get paid extra to stand here and do... Whatever it is we're doing right now. Brock begins to do his signature pace back and forth, his face subtly turns slightly red. Brock Lesnar So the way I see it, you're wasting my time right now. Rooker raises an eyebrow. Norman says nothing as he's laying on the mat, bleeding out. Brock Lesnar The way I see it, you're eating into the time I could be spending in the back, training so that I'm fully ready to kick the everloving shit out of you in this ring and bust you open. The two men look into each other's eyes (not in a romantic way) Brock Lesnar So I'm gonna have to make up some time. Brock says this in a fairly relaxed fashion, but then suddenly goes completely red, squeals and launches himself at Rooker. Understandably, Rooker is taken by surprise and is not ready to defend himself, so he is backed into the corner. Michael Cole: And it was only a matter of time before we saw this! Matt Striker: We might see first blood before the match actually starts later tonight! Brock hits a few Shoulder Blocks to the midsection of Rooker, who continuously punches the back of Lesnar. Eventually, Rooker manages to kick out his leg and forces Lesnar back. Rooker his a Clothesline to the back of Brock's head and then rolls out of the ring and jogs up the ramp. The fans boo. Brock gets up to his feet, holding the back of his head and smiles at Rooker. Michael Cole: This is going to be intense later tonight Matt Striker: Yeah, you don't say Brock turns his attention to No Nonsense Norman who is still laying, motionless, in the middle of the ring. Rooker watches on as Brock lifts his friend onto his shoulders Michael Cole: OH NO, GET OUT OF THERE, NORMAN! Brock maintains eye contact with Rooker before swinging Norman around and hitting an F-5 on the poor defenceless alcoholic tramp. Matt Striker: F-5!!! Rooker shakes his head, turns around and walks to the back as Brock hops from foot to foot and the camera fades out. The scene fades in, and we see Angelus backstage, at an arena bar, bragging to the barman. Angelus That kid, Ryland? He's nothing but a snot-nosed punk. I am the best wrestler here, and I'm really considering making his life a living hell. And you know why? Because it pisses me off that he gets all the attention when he's just a damn brat. Turns out Ryland was standing behind Angelus, the barman freezes when Angelus turns around. Archer Ryland A punk...That's the best insult you got?... Angelus gets up and gets himself chest to chest and face to face with Ryland. Angelus Don't worry... Next week, eh? I'll send you back to your mommy and daddy. Ryland starts breathing heavily and he turns around, then slicks his hair back when Angelus starts laughing at him, the latter then turns around and sits back at the bar. Archer gets a sick grin on his lips, eyes completely open. He stops back to back with Angelus, some feet away, and looks forwards with his head kind of inclined up. Angelus Probably just another made up story... Archer Ryland turns around and slowly starts walking towards Angelus with the same demented look in his face. As if he's happy about what he's just about to do. He pulls a knuckle duster out of his pants' back pocket and puts it in his fingers. Archer Ryland I'm gonna fuck you in the face, Angie. Angelus, confused, turns around...BRASS KNUCKLES SHOT TO THE FACE!!! In no time Archer Ryland is all over Angelus, punching the hell out of his face, shot after another and another after another and another. He gets up and picks up one of the bar benches, then starts swinging it at Angelus' body. Over and over and over again! BUT HE'S NOT DONE! He grabs Angelus' bottle of beer on the bar's counter and breaks it. Angelus is unconscious, Ryland starts hitting his face with the broken bottle, making him bleed and almost ripping his face apart. Security have to come to stop him, and he agrees to walk away. Angelus is left writhing on the floor, a bloodied mess. The scene now crossfades with the same video playing on a television, and it zooms out to show both Angelus and Archer Ryland sitting on a leather couch. Angelus presses the rewind button on the controller and Ryland grabs his hand, pulls the remote away and turns the TV off. Archer Ryland We've watched this literally twelve times, dude. Angelus looks at Ryland, and we now see him sporting an eye patch. Angelus Well, I guess I only watched it half as much as you do, right? Archer Ryland Oh, for christ's sake, dude. I get it. I owe you an eye. Angelus nods nonchalantly and stares into the now turned-off TV. Archer Ryland I know you're playing hard to get and all of that. But you know tonight is our last chance to go down in the EWE history books before it's done for good. Angelus Right. Like this place is ever done for good. Archer Ryland Just let me finish. Both of us know nobody in this building. Everyone who was around back when we were around is either in bigger matches or not here, at all. The two of us lived it. We lived the extreme EWE era. We can outwrestle everyone else in that Tag Team invitational. We can become the last World Tag Team Champions, Angelus. I know you don't like me, and I'm not your biggest fan, myself, but... Archer puts his hand on Angelus' shoulder. Archer Ryland But this is our last chance. Come on. Let's make this happen. Be my partner for tonight. Angelus takes a deep breath. Archer Ryland It's just an eye, man. Angelus ... Just an eye? Angelus tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck. Probably an attempt to make himself look like a tough motherfucker. He then smacks Archer's hand off of his shoulder. Angelus Because of what you did to me, I'm stuck with two options. I can either walk around with a gaping hole in my face, or I can wear this stupid eye patch and look like Tim Curry in Muppet's Treasure Island. The Jean-Claude Van Damme ripoff seems to be getting pretty heated, but Ryland scoffs. Archer Ryland Tim Curry didn't even wear an eye patch in that movie. Angelus gets to his feet and tenses up. Angelus Do you have any idea how hard my life has become? You sent my wrestling career into a god damned nosedive. You see this shit right here? He lifts up his right hand and points to the eye patch. Archer Ryland Yeah, I see it. We've been talking about it for the past five minutes. Angelus ignores the witty remark and continues his angry rant. Angelus This is like a big fucking target painted right on my face. A big red bulls-eye for my opponents to exploit. I barely win matches anymore because they just go straight for this weak spot. They're like sharks in the damned water that smell blood. They're like pit-bulls going straight for my fucking jugular. This is all your fault. Angelus grits his teeth, showing signs of extreme frustration. Angelus Not to mention the constant jokes at my expense. "Shouldn't you be assembling the Avengers? And why are you white now?", "Man, I loved you in The Walking Dead!", "Hey, Angelus, you remind me of Number Two from Austin Powers. Not because of the eye patch, though, it's because you're a piece of shit!" Angelus balls up his fists and starts pacing back and forth. Angelus I can't even go out to eat anymore! I went to McDonald's the other day and the punk kid behind the counter called me a Butt Pirate! It took every ounce of self control in my body to not pull that smug son of a bitch over the counter and fuck his face up just like you did to me! Eye patch McGee takes a deep breath and tries to relax, then turns to his new tag team partner. Angelus Listen, before we go any further with this relationship, I need you to know what I've been living with for the past few years. I need you to see how you made my life a living hell... And I need you to apologise. Archer Ryland groans and tilts his head back, running his hands through his hair. He then stands up and grabs Angelus by both shoulders. Archer Ryland Angelus, I know exactly what you've been through, you've told me like fifty times. Angelus You don't get-- Ryland presses his fingers to Angelus' lips. Archer Ryland It's okay, man. Let it go. Angelus God dammit! Angelus pushes Ryland away. Archer Ryland What? You think I haven't had to live with what happened, too? I went to jail because I did that to you. I'm sorry, man. Of fucking course, I'm sorry. I got touched in prison, man. I got touched. Ryland turns around and pretends to be crying. Angelus seems disturbed. Angelus Wow man, I didn't know. Ryland breaks into laughter. Archer Ryland I'm just fucking with you man. Angelus makes a swing at Ryland, but the latter dodges. He has to speak while shifting around as Angelus doesn't stop trying to attack him. Archer Ryland Dude--I know. I shouldn't--I shouldn't have joked--I shouldn't have joked about it. I was--I was half-serious about it but then I saw how insensitive it was and I had to either put a stop to it--Or actually pretend I got raped--Ryland now dodges an extremely high Roundhouse Kick by the martial artist pirate. How the fuck did you do that? Angelus grabs a chair and throws it against a wall. Archer Ryland Oh shit that looks just like the one-- Angelus gives Ryland an enraged glare. Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about that, I'm sorry about the insensitive humor, and I'm sorry about the original thing too. Angelus takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Archer Ryland C'mon, remember your breathing exercises. Angelus seems confused. Angelus What breathing exercises? Archer Ryland Oh, I just assumed you'd gone through anger management therapy. You know, with all the furious air punching and throwing shit around. I thought those were techniques. Angelus Techniques? That's exactly the kind of shit you go through anger management therapy to avoid doing! Archer Ryland Oh. Angelus Something, I might add, you need much more than anybody else I know! There's now an awkward silence, and Ryland seems unperturbed by Angelus' remark. He starts humming, and then he starts actually singing: Archer Ryland On occasion there might be someone you have to execute, but when you're a professional piraaate... Angelus I'm going to kill you. Archer Ryland Shit. Angelus You son of a- COME HERE! Angelus continues to launch himself at Ryland, who pretty effortlessly dodges his wild attacks. Archer Ryland Angie, please. You're embarrassing yourself. Angelus I've got you now, you motherfucker! Angelus moves with the speed of a fucking Dragon Ball character and manages to grab Ryland by the collar. Archer's eyes widen in shock as he realizes what the hell just happened. Archer Ryland Woah! Okay, let's all just calm down. The Martial Artist Pirate smiles, almost sadistically. Angelus You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment... Angelus rears back with his free hand as Ryland flinches, expecting the punch to hit any moment. ... But it doesn't. Archer opens one eye and looks over at his new partner, who has tears streaming down his face. Archer Ryland Are you kidding me? Angelus, now sobbing, smiles at Archer and throws his arms around him in an embrace. Angelus I forgive you, man. Archer awkardly reaches around and pats Angie's back with one arm. Archer Ryland Okay, buddy. Angelus, still sobbing, continues to talk as he buries his head in Archer's chest. Angelus I'm so happy, man! I've wanted to bury the hatchet for so long! Archer rolls his eyes. Archer Ryland Right. The two break the hug, but mainly Archer, who now has a mixture of tears and mucus covering the front of his shirt. The pathetic Angelus smiles at Archer and wipes his nose. Angelus T-Thank you, man. I needed that. Angelus claps his hand down on Archer's shoulder. Angelus We're gonna win those titles, man. I believe in us. The Martial Artist Pirate nods at his new friend and walks off camera, leaving Archer to look down at his ruined shirt. Archer Ryland ...Fuck's sake. The screen is completely black, but some loud scuffling can be heard. The audio seems to have preceded the visuals. Kane I do not want to hear any 'ifs' or 'buts'. I am not here to be your insurance policy, I have my own things to worry about. The visual finally arrives. We see Kane in his black suit and silk dark blue tie, sitting behind a desk in his office. The office is well carpeted, expensively furnished, and gives out a growlery vibe - you could not tell that it is a monster's den. Wade Barrett and Drew Galloway are standing opposite Kane, already dressed in their wrestling attire and wearing duster coats. Resembling your friendly neighborhood perverts. Good News Galloway Look, all we're saying is-- Kane gets up and interrupts Drew. Kane I heard what you said the first time, I'm just skipping the unnecessary fluff. Kane walks around the desk. Kane You newer generation of wrestlers need to get your priorities straight. You don't want to win for the sake of winning. That will not get you anywhere. Wade quickly responds, attempting to assure Kane. However, he does so in a condescending tone. Bad News Barrett Yeah, yeah, big guy. We do it for the love of the sport. Kane switches his gaze from Galloway unto Barrett. Kane No, you do it to look bad ass! Kane pulls out sunglasses from his inner jacket pocket and puts them on. A ripple effect takes over the screen, and we cross-fade from Kane's shit-eating grin to a scene from the younger days of EWE: Chris Jericho is sitting in his office doing some paperwork when suddenly, Kane barges in. Matt Striker: Wh--What's happening? Kane stares at Jericho as he leaves his paperwork but doesn't look nor does he move a muscle. Kane seems mad that Jericho doesn't appear to be the least frustrated. Kane I...WANT...MICHAELS! Jericho stands up and signals Kane to relax. Then starts talking: Chris Jericho Kane, Kane! Calm down, I know you're angry and all because of that... Incident. But it wasn't my fault, it wasn't anyone's fault but Michaels'... Anyway, that doesn't matter, I'd give you a match with him, but you are both scheduled to face different opponents tonight. I can't change that now, I'm sorry. Jericho moves around the desk as Kane steps closer. Chris signals for the Big Red Monster to leave the office, but just as Kane turns around to face the door, he back turns around shoving his hand into Jericho's throat violently! Lifts him! CHOKESLAM!! Matt Striker: Oh, snappity snap! Michael Cole: Vintage Kane! Kane then picks up a lighter that seemed to have somehow conveniently fallen on the floor and lights it up, then uses it to burn the papers that Jericho was working on. Kane then lets out a scary, evil laugh and leaves the office. Originally, the scene would fade out here. But this is the uncut version. There's the sound of a toilet flushing, and Matt Hardy walks out from the bathroom. Matt Hardy What the fuck?! MY PAPERWORK!...I'm not filling it out again. Chris Jericho Yes... You... Are... The scene ripples back to Kane. Kane Like that! Barrett and Galloway seem confused... Bad News Barrett Like what? Drew takes a step back from Kane and pulls Bad News away with him. Good News Galloway Careful, the man took too many kicks to the head. Barrett walks over toward Kane again, ignoring Drew. Bad News Barrett Look, we're not here for a pissing contest. I could care less ab-- Galloway quickly interrupts, but does so in a low voice. Good News Galloway Couldn't... Barrett looks back at Drew. Bad News Barrett Excuse me? Good News Galloway You couldn't care less. Barrett sighs and looks back at Kane. Bad News Barrett It doesn't matter. Like I wa-- Drew interrupts again. Good News Galloway But it does. Saying that you could care less conveys the exact opposite of what you mean. Wade grunts. His eyes still focused on Kane. Bad News Barrett Fine! Like I was saying: I couldn't care less ab-- Wade comes to an abrupt stop. He looks back at Good News. Bad News Barrett What was I saying? Drew shrugs. Kane pitches in. Kane Something about a pissing contest. Wade looks back at Kane. Bad News Barrett Thank you. Like I was saying: I couldn't care less about coming off as a badass. We are here to make a name for ourselves. We are here to leave a legacy. Kane lets out a very short laugh. Still pretty sadistic, though. Kane And you think accolades will do that for you? No one remembers us for what we win. People remember my brother for his whole death thing. They remember Austin for his beers and birds. They remember Benoit for... My point is that if you want to make a name for yourselves, you need something better than this whole news anchor thing. But not fire... Kane pulls out a lighter from his left trouser pocket. It seems to be the same lighter he used back in the previous scene from 2009. Kane That's mine. He flips on the lighter. The camera zooms in on the little flame and the scene begins to haze. As it hazes, Matt Striker can be heard. Matt Striker: The flames are still low on the edges of the ring, but we can already feel the heat over here, easily. The scene switches to an inferno match between Kane Shawn Michaels. Kane is down on the mat and Michaels is standing besides him. Kane gets back up to all fours and Shawn grabs him by the chin to pull him up. Kane swats Shawn's arms out of the way and hits him with a right hand straight to the jaw. Then another one. Kane hits three rights in a row and then throws a left, another right, another left, another right, and then Michaels retaliates with a right of his own. The two start exchanging rights when Shawn blocks one of Kane's rights and hits Kane with a right and then runs, bounces off the ropes and hits Kane with a Flying Forearm. Both men are on flat on the mat until HBK kips up to his feet the way only Shawn Michaels can! Michael Cole: Vintage Shawn Michaels!! Shawn climbs up to the top turnbuckle, preparing for his patented Elbow Drop! Michael Cole: Oh my! Here it comes! Michaels jumps! Kane rolls out of the way!! OOHH!! Kane gets to his feet while Michaels rolls around in pain. He waits for the Showstopper to get to his feet, he does, Throat Thrust! The flames go higher. Kane grabs Michaels' wrist and irish whips him into the ropes. Shawn bounces off and Kane lifts his foot up to head for another Big Boot but Shawn ducks and bounces off of the opposite ropes, then hits Kane with a Cross Body! Matt Striker: It's getting hotter and hotter! Kane lands on his back with Michaels on top of him, HBK gets up then gets to the corner and climbs the turnbuckle while Kane climbs to his feet with the aid of the ropes. Shawn Michaels, who was going for the Flying Elbow Drop, tries to get off the top rope but the flames make the job impossible! Michael Cole: Shawn can't climb off! Kane grabs him by the throat! CHOKESLAM FROM THE TOP ROPE INTO THE RING!! Matt Striker: Holy fuckity fuck! The masked monster stares Shawn Michaels down for a while, who squirms in the ring. Kane raises his arms and violently cuts the air with them, as the flames go higher and higher!! Kane grabs Michaels by the head and goes to lift him to his feet, but Michaels hits Kane with the second low blow of the match! Michael Cole: Oh, come on! Matt Striker: Are you gonna start with your dumb ass rants about how it's not fair? IT'S AN INFERNO MATCH. IT'S LEGAL. IT'S ALSO BETTER THAN BEING BURNED TO DEATH. Michaels gets to the corner and starts tuning up the band as Kane slowly gets up... SWEET CHIN MUSIC! KANE DODGES IT! THROAT CLUTCH!!! Kane shakes his head at Michaels. Michael Cole: Uh-oh! |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:10 AM Post #2 |
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CHOKESLAM ONTO THE FLAMES AND OUT OF THE RING!!! THE BELL RINGS! EMTs RUSH TO TRY TO STOP THE FLAMES! Michael Cole: This one's over! Matt Striker: It goes to show how it's never a good idea to mess with the Devil's Favorite Demon! Kane does his taunt as fire bursts on the corners and stops on the edges of the ring, the crowd is still shocked to see him wearing the infamous mask once again. The scene fades back into Kane's office, as the Big Red Machine removes his thumb from the lighter. Good News Galloway Does he even smoke? Bad News Barrett No... Good News Galloway Then why d-- Drew stops talking once he sees Kane raising his arms. Kane then crosses his arm downards, executing his signature flame taunt. As he does so, the Big Red Monster releases the lighter from his hand. The speed that he lowered his arms with gave the lighter so much thrust that when it landed on the floor, it broke and a loud explosion was caused. Good News Galloway I guess that's why. Bad News Barrett looks completely baffled. Bad News Barrett But the floor is carpeted. Kane kicks some of the shattered lighter out of the way. Kane That is how you make a legacy. Barrett responds with a low voice. Bad News Barrett Or get sent to the loony bin. Good News Galloway I think he's referring to when he went by Festus. Kane now looks a bit pissed. Bad News Barrett Wasn't him. Kane walks closer to Galloway. Kane You can laugh all you want, Good News Goose. At the end of the day, I am the one that will go down in history. Sure, you can do it the Kurt Angle way - bland. End up with someone like Stephanie McMahon. Or you can do it my way, and have women swoon over you. Barrett seems completely lost at this point. Bad News Barrett I don't understand a wo-- Kane interrupts. Kane In a minute. Bad News Barrett Wha-- The audio from the room cuts off and the scene fades in to a match on the very fourth edition of XPlosion: Kane & Kelly Kelly vs Beth Phoenix & Triple H. Michael Cole: Welcome back from the break, this match is only getting hotter! Kane intimidates Beth, but Triple H grabs him and hits a Spinebuster! Kelly runs in and hits the K2 on the Glamazon! It's hell in the ring! The ref escorts the women out, and Kane and the Game are both out with exhaustion. Matt Striker: This might just be the first ever decent Mixed Tag Team match I've ever seen! Triple H crawls over and tags in Beth as Kane sits up! Matt Striker: Oh, deary dear! Beth runs in and hits a Clothesline on the Big Red Monster, which doesn't do anything. Beth grasps her arm in pain as Kane delivers a toe kick to the gut, powerbomb lift! The Big Red Machine walks backward to his corner, Kelly tags herself in and goes to the top turnbuckle! Michael Cole: What's this? Kelly Kelly jumps onto Beth! Electric Chair Facebuster and K2 combination! Michael Cole: Wow! Kane clotheslines Triple H! Kelly covers Phoenix! 1!...2!...Kickout! Kane goes back to the apron. Kelly lifts up Beth, but gets shoved away, gut kick, Beth goes for a Powerbomb! Kelly reverses it into a Hurricanrana! 1!...Kickout! Beth runs and tags Triple H. Triple H runs in, gut kick on Kelly...Kane runs into the ring! Throat clutch! Kane Chokeslams Triple H! Michael Cole: Chokeslam! Matt Striker: You're a terrible announcer. Michael Cole: ![]() Beth runs in and Kane throws her to the outside of the ring! Kelly covers Triple H! 1!...2!...3!!! Slow Chemical hits as Kane and Kelly Kelly celebrate together, the scene fades back to Kane's office. Bad News Barrett --and that's why we came in here today? So what do you say? We can both stand to benefit. Galloway nods his head. Good News Galloway Good news all around. Kane seems to be the one that is confused now. Kane Did you say something? Barrett is enraged by Kane's lack of attention. Bad News Barrett Did you not listen to anything I've said? Look, gaffer, today is a big day for Drew and me. We can't lose. Kane shrugs. Kane Why not? Galloway steps between Barrett and Kane. Good News Galloway The hell do you mean why not? It'll be bloody embarrassing. Kane shoves Galloway lightly with his right hand. Kane You two are acting like spoiled brats. So what if you get embarrassed? That's a price you need to pay. We all hit some low points. We all get a low blow from life every now and then - an F-U. The scene fades into the wrestling ring of XPlosionpast, where Cena is getting up from the mat... But in the very instant that Kane tries to grip his throat, John Cena grabs his hand and lifts Kane for the F-U, screams of pain while hitting it! Michael Cole: And Cena connects with the F-U! Matt Striker: No! No! No! NO!!! Cover! 1...2...3! Michael Cole: Cena wins! Cena poses for the crowd as they cheer him on and the scene cross-fades to a match on an early 2010 episode of Exodus. Raven picks Kane up and rolls him into the ring, then slides in as well, KANE SITS UP AND THE CROWD GOES WILD! Michael Cole: OH MY! Kane gets up and both him and Raven grab a steel chair and swing it at each other, the Big Red Monster overpowers Raven and he falls right into another steel chair after the steel chair shot itself! The Big Red Machine looks around as the crowd cheers, he unfolds a chair and sets it up close to Raven, then gets the latter up! He wraps his hand around Raven's neck!!! Matt Striker: Chokeslam time! BUT RAVEN HITS A LOW BLOW WITH A KICK TO KANE'S GROIN...DROP TOE HOLD INTO THE STEEL CHAIR!!!!!! PIN!! 1...2...3!! Kane Believe it or not, Hell is no bed of roses, boys... The scene now cross-fades into a match between CM Punk and Kane. The Voice of the Voiceless starts working on the Big Red Monster, stomping him repeatedly. The Straight Edge Messiah leaps over the top rope and gets on the apron, then springboards as Kane gets up, for the signature Springboard Clothesline... Michael Cole: Vintage Pu... BIG BOOT IN MID-AIR BY KANE!!! OUT OF NOWHERE! The crowd goes wild! Michael Cole: VINTAGE KANE!!! Matt Striker: Cole-gasm alert... Kane tries to go for the pinning predicament. 1...2...KICKOUT!! Kane gets up, frustrated, while the crowd is cheering. Punk gets to his feet, still holding his nose from the impact of that hit. Kane grabs him...Sidewalk Slam!! The crowd cheer loudly as Kane gets out of the ring and on the top rope. Punk staggers back to his feet with the aid of the ropes...Kane jumps! FLYING CLOTHESLINE!! PUNK DODGES!!! Michael Cole: Oh! Sidestepped! Kane turns around, Super Kick to the face! Kane is groggy and staggering..Side Slam! ANACONDA VISE!!! Kane breaks free!! Matt Striker: Oh, thank God. I have 5 bucks on Kane losing by pinfall! Both wrestlers get up at the same time and Punk shoves Kane against the referee, making the latter stagger as Punk hits a low blow!!! He gets him onto his shoulders and lets out a shout...GO TO SLEEP! THE GTS CONNECTS!! COVER!! Matt Striker: YES! 1...2...3!!! The scene fades back to Kane's office. Kane Getting embarrassed every now and then is part of the job description, but in the end people barely remember it. You go down in history for what you have been the majority of your careers, not one day. Barrett gives Galloway a dumbfounded look. Bad News Barrett What is it with these prolonged pauses? Good News Galloway This business is all about momentum, mate. You lose it, and you lose your shot. The risk is too high, which is why we need to always win. Which is why we always win. Barrett nods. Bad News Barrett No one is going to get in the way of that. And, if you try, I'll have some bad news for you. Barrett sizes up Kane, who just chuckles. Kane Your idle threats won’t sway me. Drew seems very frustrated at this point. Good News Galloway You’re not even addressing our issue. You’re just hopping from one thing to another. Focus for a moment, will you? Kane walks back to his desk and takes a seat. Kane I am addressing the root of the issue, Drew. I just told you that your worst case scenario is not that bad. Drew gets closer as he gets angrier by the word. Good News Galloway What about when you lose relevance, when you lose your opportunity? When you fall into a rut? Kane chuckles again. He then opens one of his bottom desk drawers and reaches down for something. Kane Then… Kane pulls out a penis themed bong and places it on the table. Kane You have to reinvent yourself. The camera zooms into the penis themed bong and the scene begins to haze. The scene changes to Rob Van Dam in the ring. Rob Van Dam So I was talking to a certain Randy Orton and I'm of the understanding that EWE is building itself a tag team division. Well I'm no stranger to tag team success, and I know that there's actually another guy making his return tonight that I've shared that success with in the past... So I pulled some strings, and it was made official. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to my tag team partner here in EWE... RVD points at the stage and the lights go dim. Slow Chemical hits and the fans go bananas! Kane, looking visibly angry, makes his way down the ramp. When he reaches the steel steps, he does his signature taunt and flames erupt from the ring posts. The crowd goes wild! Matt Striker: And I don't know if you were even born yet, Renee, but this man was a huge part of EWE years ago! Renee Young: I'm not 3 years old, Striker. He grabs the microphone from RVD's hand. Matt Striker: See? That just goes to show how ignorant you are! He was in EWE FIVE years ago! Kane When I first contacted Randy Orton about coming to EWE, this is not what I had in mind. My original plan was to come here, destroy the entire roster, ending with winning the Championship from Matt Hardy, but instead, I will be stuck in a mediocre tag team division, with a washed up, "4.20 Blazing" 40 year old. The crowd laughs at Kane's attempt to use modern day language. Kane Don't get me wrong Rob, I like you, but to tell you the truth, you weren't my first choice for a partner. In fact, I was kind of disappointed when I learned that I was going to be teaming with you again, but that could all turn around. If you can prove that you aren't as washed up as I think you are, we could be one hell of a team... We do have potential Rob, and we both know that. We have the ability to destroy everything in our way and win the Tag Team Titles. Kane pauses. Kane But before we even get started, one thing is going to have to change, and that is, absolutly NO use of Marijuana. Upon hearing this, RVD seems to be a little put out. He looks around at the crowd and then shrugs his shoulders. Rob Van Dam Kane, let's just say that that is not a promise I'm willing to make right now. What I do in my spare time shouldn't be something you need to worry about though, man, trust me... That stuff is saved for when I'm not gonna be in the ring. I'd have thought you'd have been more accepting of it anyway, I mean you love burning stuff too right? The crowd laugh. Rob Van Dam So you're disappointed that you're my tag team partner? That's a shame man, cause we go way back. Don't you remember? We've held tag team titles before! Whaddya think we're not gonna be able to do that again? See, you're one of the people I was talking about earlier. You think that just because I'm in my forties, I can no longer cut it in a wrestling ring. You're forgetting one crucial thing, bud, and that's the fact that you're not so young yourself. Older than me in fact. The crowd react. OHH!!! Matt Striker: I'm sorry, when did this segment turn into two old men trying to one up each other? Rob Van Dam And I mean, I get it, I get it... You think that you're better than me because you're like seven feet tall and you weigh like... What... 350 pounds? Dude, you're slow as shit in the ring. I, and anyone else on the roster for that matter could run circles around you, literally. You've got the strength, I've got the speed. Kane freezes. Rob Van Dam Not that kinda speed. Agility. Kane thaws out. Rob Van Dam That's the perfect pairing in my book. You may not think so just yet, but I know you'll come around. The scene fades to a montage of Kane and Rob Van Dam's EWE moments, with You're The Best Around playing in the background. It begins with a high five, after defeating Brolieve in their début match. Them getting lost in the middle of nowhere on their way to a show in London, and Kane magically sets a tractor on fire just by doing his arms thing. Exchanging banter as guest announcers. Kane hitting a Pumphandle Slam on an action figure EWE ring of RVD's. Winning the World Tag Team Championships... Bad News Barrett Kane. We get it. Scene snaps back to the office, Kane finally removes his sunglasses. Kane God that was the worst time of my life. It's not very clear whether he's being sincere or just acting tough. The camera zooms out a bit, revealing Galloway blankly staring at the penis bong. His jaw is slightly dropped. Barrett just notices him. Bad News Barrett Has he just been staring at it this whole time? Kane takes the bong and places it back into the drawer. Kane What I'm trying to get through here, is that your career is not always going to be perfect. You will have some horrible times, you will have some embarressing ones. And you will definetly have to put a dick or two in your mouth at some point. All you can do is pray to Lucifier that it's a glass one. Barrett sighs. Bad News Barrett Could you please be more literal? Kane smirks. Kane I was. Today is the day. If you want my help, you'll have to suck it up and then do some more sucking. We can hear Kane unzip his pants. Kane Either of you will do. Galloway shrugs and starts walking around the desk. Kane quickly zips up his pants. Kane Beelzebub! It was a joke. Bad News Barrett Where were you going with this? Kane had a very creeped out look on his face, but Barrett's question sobered him up. Kane Yes, right. I suppose Galloway had the right idea there. You're going to hit some hurdles on your way to glory, so you need to learn to take them in stride. One day will not define the rest of your career. There's a second of silence. Bad News Barrett How long is this next fla-- The audio gets cut off, but the three keep talking. Seems like Jacob in A/V messed something up, leaving everyone in the crowd wondering how he will afford to feed his children from now on. The scene finally fades to a match on Exodus. Brock Lesnar swings Benjamin Breaks in the air for an F-5, but the move is countered! Breaks with an Around the World Armbar now! Renee Young: What a counter! Matt Striker: If Brock taps out, Breaks might as well be handed the World Wrestling Championship right now.[/color] Brock Squeals™ with even more intensity than ever, as Breaks continues to wrench the hold harder than he ever has before. Brock looks as though he is about to pass out, but then has a sudden rush of strength and determination. He rolls onto his knees and then slowly begins to lift Breaks straight off the mat. Matt Striker: God damn... Renee Young: But Breaks still has the hold locked in! Brock has been doing one long continuous Squeal™ the whole time he's been locked in the hold. He has been doing it for so long that his voice is beginning to get really raspy from being worn out. Brock picks Breaks up, who is still locking in the Around the World Armbar, and drives him back down to the mat with a Powerbomb. Breaks doesn't let go. Brock repeats the process. Renee Young: It's strength versus determination! Matt Striker: Neither is gonna give! We're gonna be here all night. Brock picks Breaks up and delivers a third Powerbomb, finally causing Breaks to release the hold and lay flat on his back. Brock's Squeal™ finally fades out and Brock stumbles over to the corner, holding his arm in pain. As he steps back over to Breaks to prepare to go for another F-5, flames suddenly shoot from all four corners. This causes many fans in attendance to do doody in their pantaloons. Matt Striker: That's gotta be Kane! Renee Young: BAH GAWD! Kane runs down to the ring, slides inside and immediately grabs Brock by the throat. Renee Young: THE HELL?! The fans cheer. CHOKESLAM FROM HELL! And now both competitors are laid out on the mat! The fans go crazy. The scene cross-fades to the exhilarating match between Brock Lesnar and Kane at Downward Spiral 2015, where Kane proved to be the only man to be a serious threat to Lesnar's dominance. Kane, for a third time in the match, goes for a Chokeslam. He extends his arm out and waits for Brock to get up. The Beast slowly climbs up using the ropes and turns around to be met with Kane's gloved hand around his throat. He is hoisted up and slammed back down as Kane delivers the Chokeslam From Hell as hard as he can. Kane staggers into the ropes from the force that he put into the move and then waits against the ropes, catching his breath. Renee Young: Well I think from now on, Brock is gonna b- Matt Striker: Oh sweet Jesus. The camera now zooms into Brock who has sat up suddenly, Undertaker style. He stares at Kane who hasn't turned around yet and starts laughing as blood is covering his entire face. It looks like something out of a horror film. Kane turns around and is lifted up onto the shoulders of Brock, he doesn't have a chance to counter, as he is so shocked by the fact Brock is suddenly up. The F-5 connects! Renee Young: How on Earth does momentum change like that so fast? Matt Striker: It's Brock Lesnar. Brock goes for a pin. ...1...2...3!!! The scene stops, and slowly fades back to the office, where a now more serious Kane sits with his elbows on the desk. He opens the first drawer and looks inside. Bad News Barrett We were there, Kane... We remember you losing. Good News Galloway All this just because we pulled a rib on Jensen and now he can't wrestle because of food poisoning? Kane now addresses the former World Tag Team Champions in a more sombre, calm tone: Kane No...All this because you two still have youth. Which is something I can't take back. If I was Brock Lesnar's age when that match happened, I would have beaten him... I could have beaten him... Regret now seems obvious in Kane's voice tone. Kane Now go. You go and bring those tag titles back to Exodus. The true ultimate wrestling show. Our Exodus. Because we'll always have that. Barrett and Galloway shrug and leave the room. Kane breathes heavily, then grins. Kane I...Have something better than youth... The grin slowly turns into an eerie, downright evil laugh, as he pulls his mask from the drawer, and the scene fades out. The scene fades in to show Path to Superstardom alumni Bint Smith and Lane Kennedy. One is taping his wrists and the other lacing up his boots, getting ready for their upcoming match. Lane Kennedy Are you ready for this, Bint? Bint Smith I think, all things considered, Trump will be a good president. Lane Kennedy Wait...What? Bint Smith So yes, yes I am ready for the future. Kennedy seems confused. Lane Kennedy Dude. I'm talking about our match. Tonight? For the World Tag Titles? Bint Smith rolls his eyes. Bint Smith Oh shit, boi-o! Lane Kennedy Dude, you gotta focus. Bint Smith I have never been more focused on anything in my entire life. I'll have you know I was born ready. Or my name isn't Bint Smith. Lane Kennedy I'm fairly sure your name isn't Bint Smith. Bint Smith It is. Lane Kennedy Whatever. Think about it. World Tag Team Champions, Bint Smith...And Lane Kennedy. ??? Did somebody say... ??? KEEEENNNEEEEDYYYYYYYYYYY!!! The crowd can be heard cheering as the former World Tag Team Champions, Austin Aries and Mr. Kennedy show up on screen. Ken Kennedy gets uncomfortably close to Lane Kennedy... Mr. Kennedy KENNEDY!!! Bint Smith Who are you? Mr. Kennedy MISSSTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR!!! .... KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNEDDDDDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!! .... KENNEDY!!! Bint Smith Oh yeah lol. Austin Aries And we're here to let you bozos know that you don'r stand a single chance in this match tonight. Mr. Kennedy Bozos? Austin Aries Yeah, I call people bozos now. Mr. Kennedy I see. Well, my friend here is right, you "bozos" are in way over your head if you think you're going to take down the Green Bay Assholes on their way to taking back what's rightfully theirs...The World Tag Team Championships. Lane Kennedy leaps from his seat. Lane Kennedy YOU'RE THE BOZOS! Bint Smith BOZOS! Austin Aries BOZOS! The three men begin yelling the word 'bozo' repeatedly in each others faces with such intensity that spit flies everywhere. Mr. Kennedy leaps in to break up the action. Mr. Kennedy KENNEDYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everyone goes silent. Mr. Kennedy You listen here, kiddos. Austin Aries Kiddos? Mr. Kennedy Yes. I call people kiddos now. Austin Aries Since fucking when? Mr. Kennedy Since 10 seconds ago, shut up. Kennedy turns back to Smith and the other Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy I get that you're all giddy and pumped up for your first chance in the limelight. And, frankly, if it was any other occasion, you might even have a miniscule shred of a chance against any Tag Team in the business. After all, any man with two fists has a fighting chance, right? Despite this seeming like a rhetorical question, Kennedy seems to actually expect an answer. Mr. Kennedy Right?... Lane Kennedy seems to be ready to reply, when... Mr. Kennedy WRONG! Tonight is about a lot more than just the World Tag Team Championships. Tonight is our last chance to recapture the top spot in the Extreme Wrestling Empire Tag Team ladder. At least until God knows when! Austin Aries That's right. And you know what? Nobody's gonna stop the Green Bay Assholes. Especially not you two. Bint Smith gets to his feet and strolls over to his two adversaries. Bint Smith Listen... CUNTS. Lane Kennedy Cunts? Bint Smith Yeah I call people cunts n- Anyway. There's only two things I want for Christmas this year. Smith signals to his fingers Bint Smith Every episode of Full House on DVD boxset, and to put the both of you directly through a table. Bint gets a lil' bitty bit closer and whispers, sensually Bint Smith And Lane has already bought me the complete Full House DVD boxset... So that leaves but one thing left, doesn't it? Lane Kennedy It's January. Bint Smith Yeah? Lane Kennedy What you're doing doesn't work because it's already past Christmas. Bint Smith Yeah but I thought of that cool part before Christmas happened and I didn't want it to go to waste so I said it anyway and besides, by the time I'd started saying it I had forgotten that it's January now. Mr Kennedy looks enraged Mr. Kennedy Alright, that's enough wise cracks. We just wanted to stop by and wish you guys good luck tonight. Kennedy winks at Austin who winks back and they begin laughing hysterically like a couple of hyenas. Austin Aries Yeah, we'll be "looking out" for you, alright. The laughter increases in intensity. Mr. Kennedy Yeah! We- Suddenly,a strange, semi-naked, balding old man with a Boston accent literally leaps into the room and the camera swings round to face him. Bill Whitlingham DID YOU FUCK MY MOM? He dashes over to Bint Smith and begins to swing at his chest Bint Smith RUN! EVERYONE, SAVE YOURSELVES! Lane Kennedy knows what to do, he pushes past the GBA and makes his way straight out of the locker room as Bint wrestles the 4'9 man to the floor. Bint looks up with sheer terror etched on his face Bint Smith WE'LL SETTLE THIS IN THE RING, RUN! Bill Whitlingham I'LL KILL YOU! The Green Bay Assholes get the hell out of there as the scene fades out. White Goodman, Riggins, Rob Conway, Kerwin White, and Greg Steele are all standing in a long hallway, decorated with framed pictures. The frames that contain these large images are pure, solid gold. Sculpted in a baroque style. In sum, it's at the very least a very grandiose-looking hall. A long, purple velvet carpet below their feet. They all stand in front of one specific frame, however. An image depicting none other than 'Zeus' Jack Jones. Most of the group stand behind their leader, as they all admire the painting. ![]() White Goodman I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here... White adjusts the collar of the his incredible jacket, then clears his throat. White Goodman ... We stand here together in this GloboGym Hall of Fame™ on this fine day as a unit... As a FAMILY! GloboGym has been a force to be reckoned with in the Extreme Wrestling Empire ever since we first showed up, and do you know why? Greg Steele starts to talk, but White quickly cuts him off by backhanding him across the face. White Goodman Rhetorical question, Greg. It's because we know how to cooperate. Riggins and myself especially... It's like our minds have been melded together when we compete out in the ring. We each know exactly what the other is going to do, and that's the secret to the chemistry of GloboGym. We watch each other's backs. That's what family is about. White flashes a shit-eating grin to his 'family' and gives a thumbs up to Riggins, but soon after the grin fades and turns into a nasty scowl. White Goodman But every family has a black sheep... And ours is depicted right here in this painting. 'Zeus' Jack Jones. The man I welcomed into GloboGym with open arms, yet he questioned me and the GloboGym program at every turn. He ignored our advice. He refused our help. He didn't even send me a Christmas card last year. He's a worthless, ungrateful pile of trash. Are we all in agreement? Rob Conway I thought Single H was the black sheep. Riggins No. No, no, no, Bob Conway. Single H was our greatest project. Before White took him under his wing, he was nothing. What is he now? Only the longest running World Wrestling Champion in EWE history, mister Bob Conway. Only the greatest, most thrilling-to-watch ring general in the history of the company, perhaps even all of wrestling. Aside from myself and White, of course. Riggins pauses. Riggins The only reason he left our group is because he finished his training with us. Rob Conway He was in the group for three days. Riggins Yes. And what does that say about you, Bob Conway? Conway shrugs. Riggins starts poking his chest with every word: Riggins You're. Not. Good. Enough. Rob now seems somewhat taken aback. Riggins Single H was with us for three days and now he's the third greatest wrestler of all time!... You've been us for four years, and you're still a bottom-feeder. Kerwin, get me my calculator. Kerwin White reaches into his golf club bag and produces a calculator, which he then hands over to Riggins. Riggins This means Single H... Riggins presses some buttons, doing some maths. Riggins Achieved four hundred and sixty seven point six six six six six six six six six six six six six seven times more GloboGym Evolution® in one day than you did. Rob Conway tries to speak. Riggins And that's not even counting for leap years, Bob Conway! You think looking good is enough? Do you? You started your training with us long before Single H did, and yet, where's your World Championship? Where's your star power? In what headlines is your name flashed in bright lights? NOWHERE. NOWHERE. NONE. Git gud. White smiles and nods after watching Rob Conway get chewed out by Riggins. White Goodman Well said, Riggins. Well said indeed. I, too, am proud of Single H. I'd liken it to a father being proud of his son. Single H has developed from a mere caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly and now he's going his own way in the world. He's the son that went off on his own and achieved great success... But you, Rob? You're like the lazy fucking red headed step-child who stays home and mooches off of his parents. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Rob... Or you'll end up like... White points back to the painting. White Goodman 'Zeus' Jack Jones. Y'know, all I wanted to do was help him achieve great success in EWE. I coached him. I took time out of my day to help him get better and better... But he still refused to take my advice. Do you remember what his finishing move was? Greg Steele starts to talk again, but gets smacked in the chops by White. White Goodman Rhetorical question, Greg. It was a shitty spinning backfist that wasn't even powerful enough to knock his opponent out. It was nowhere near impactful enough to put a man down for the three count. I had the GENIUS idea to make it more damaging by having Jack wear a cast on his hand and wrist, but as we all know, someone needs to actually be injured to wear something like that. Rob Conway Why didn't you just have him fake an injury? White shoots a glare at Rob and stares daggers through him. White Goodman You're on thin ice, Rob. Thin. Ice. The CEO of GloboGym takes a deep breath and resumes his story. White Goodman ... So anyway, I decided to break his hands and wrists with a broom backstage so he could get his cast. I calmly explained the situation to Jack, yet he still decided to try to run from me. Typical Jack Jones. He was such a selfish person. Only cared for himself. All of us have sacrificed something for GloboGym! Greg sacrificed his dignity, Kerwin sacrificed his Mexican heritage, Riggins cut back on beer and cigarettes... And I, of course, sacrificed a large chunk of my inheritance given to me by my father, Earl Goodman. And Rob... White looks back over at Rob. White Goodman I can't remember what you sacrificed. Conway looks around nervously. Rob Conway M-My friendship with the French. White Goodman Ah yes, of course. I hate the French. Anyway, GloboGym is all about sacrifice. Like I've always said... No pain, no gain. Jack Jones wasn't willing to endure a bit of pain to make those gains! Now look where he is! Goodman looks around the room. White Goodman I don't even know where the hell he is! He's not here, that's for sure. I mean, technically he's here in painting form but I don't actually know where Jack Jones is physically. I DO know where he'll be on the 8th of January, though. He'll be bleeding in the ring with me standing over him being declared the victor. Then I'm going to break his fucking hands right then and there! It's for his own good, right guys? Greg Steele; Kerwin White; Riggins; Rob Conway Right! Conway now seems to be thinking about something. Rob Conway Wait... Your doubting my sacrifice for a while there made me think... |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:11 AM Post #3 |
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Conway strokes his magnificent mustache for a second as he speaks. Rob Conway Greg sacrificed his dignity?...His dignity? White Goodman seems confused by whatever Rob's getting at. Rob Conway He's always told me he sacrificed his dream of pursuing highly competitive chess! Now Kerwin and Riggins seem surprised. Riggins He's always told me he sacrificed his Toyota! Kerwin White He told me that he sacrificed his Manhattan apartment! White Goodman Wait...Are you telling me...He never had a Toyota! Riggins I've tried playing chess with him, he has no idea how to.play. Christ, he tried convincing me to play checkers with the chess pieces! White Goodman He never lived in Manhattan, either. What the fuck, Greg? What the Hell, man? Rob Conway One thing's for sure... Conway turns to Steele. Rob Conway If there's one thing you NEVER had...It's dignity. Steele starts shaking. He's been caught in the moment, he tries to run away. White Goodman GET'IM, BOYS!! The lads grab 'The Man of Steele' and pin him down on the ground. White Goodman You little son of a bitch! You thought you could get one over on ol' White Goodman? No. NO. NOOO. HOLD HIM DOWN. KERWIN, GIVE ME THE 9 IRON! Greg Steele Oh god please n- Riggins smacks Greg in the face and silences him. White Goodman You could've been out there at ringside as I stood over 'Zeus' Jack Jones! You could've been standing out there with your GloboGym brothers as Riggins and Rob put every other tag team through tables to claim victory! But no... You had to be SELFISH... You had to LIE! I'm going to make an example out of you RIGHT NOW! White grabs the golf club from Kerwin and raises it above his head. White Goodman I'm not gonna picture you, right now. I'm gonna picture Jack. THIS IS WHAT I'M GONNA DO TO JACK! White brings down the club with all his might across the back of Greg's hands. White Goodman ZEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS! Greg Steele MY FUCKING HANDS! White brings down the club a couple more times, screaming "ZEUS!" each time he does it. Greg's hands are soon looking like a broken, twisted mess. Greg Steele JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS ILLEGAL! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO PEOPLE! White Goodman I MAKE THE RULES HERE! GLOBOGYM IS MINE! White removes his purple scarf from around his neck and drops it to his feet for Greg. White Goodman Clean yourself up, you piece of shit! ... And go see a doctor! I still need you to drive me to the arena in a few weeks. Goodman hocks a loogey and spits on Greg, then flips off the painting of 'Zeus' Jack Jones. White Goodman Come on, boys. Let's go. The GloboGym family walk off one by one until only Rob Conway is left with Greg. He takes a knee next to his fallen former comrade. Rob Conway I'm sorry, Greg. I had to do it. I was so close to being exposed. Rob reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old looking photograph. It shows him with two other men, holding a French flag. Rob Conway René.... Sylvain... I miss you. A single tear rolls down Rob Conway's cheek as he stands up and walks away, leaving Greg a broken mess on the floor. The camera cuts backstage beside those equipment boxes Shane McMahon always got thrown into. Neo Dragon is sitting, proudly showing off his prestigious EWE Canadian Championship around his waist. Brian Kendrick Dragon, the Canadian title is great and all, but you have a chance to win the EWE Tag Team Championships tonight, you need to focus. Neo Dragon seems as if he's not been paying attention to Kendrick, instead looking the other way, gently rubbing his championship belt. Brian Kendrick Stop rubbing that. Neo Dragon keeps slowly rubbing it. It's getting to a point where it's actually becoming disturbing if not obscene. Brian Kendrick Please. Neo Dragon. Keeps. Rubbing. Brian Kendrick Listen to me, man. I'm a former long time Tag Team Champion myself, I know what competing for them is like. You need to focus, man. That Canadian Championship is the past. I mean, how many wrestling companies active today have Canadian titles? And how many have Tag Titles? At least you were booked, you've gotta do something with this opportunity, man. Neo Dragon jumps up to face Kendrick, shakes his head, and raises his Canadian title, showing it off to Kendrick. He keeps rubbing it with his free hand. Brian Kendrick Yeah, dude, I know you're the Canadian Champion, but what I'm trying to say is that you-- New BFF's, Grado and Hulk Hogan walk into the scene, interrupting Kendrick's speech with loud conversation. Grado Aw ahm sayin' is, they shouldnae make the bags o' peanuts so diffaecul' tae open. Hulk Hogan YEAH BROTHER I AGREE WITH YOU THERE DUDE! They come to a stop beside Kendrick, with Grado recognising them. Grado Brian! It's yersel! And yer that masked gadj, Neo Dragon! Fit's gaan oan boys? Kendrick gives him a quizzical look, before nodding at Hogan. Neo Dragon doesn't take any notice of Grado and Hogan, and places his revered Canadian Championship belt on his lap, and rubs it further still. His mask is turned past the three wrestlers, dreaming into the horizon. Brian Kendrick I'm trying to get Neo Dragon here to focus on his match tonight, he's competing for the EWE World Tag Team titles against every other team in EWE history, and he's not taking it very seriously, man. Hulk Hogan WHAT'S THIS ABOUT A TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH BROTHER? THE HULKSTER ALWAYS GETS THE TITLE MATCHES BROTHER! Grado Aye, fit's this aw aboot? If ir 's a big EWE Tag match, we werenae tald! Brian Kendrick Dragon's got a huge opportunity here, he has to step up his game and win this for all the EWE wrestlers of the past that got overlooked by the system, man. The little guys like me and you and the Hulkster there. Don't you realise how serious this is Dragon? Neo Dragon is still methodically rubbing his championship. Grado Eh, why disnae he spik? Brian Kendrick It's because he doesn't have a gimmick, man. Grado Whit? Suddenly, Hogan bursts into centre frame, and rips open his Hulkamania tank top. He turns to face Neo Dragon Hulk Hogan LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING MEAN GENE, IN ALL MY YEARS OF RUNNING WILD WITH THE 56 INCH PYTHONS GOD BLESSED ME WITH, IN ALL MY YEARS OF SLAMMING ANDRE THE GIANT IN FRONT OF 10 MILLION SCREAMING HULKAMANIACS, I NEVER ONCE GOT STUCK IN THE PAST BROTHER. THE BIG BAD HULKSTER ALWAYS LOOKED TO THE FUTURE BROTHER, TO WHAT I'VE STILL GOT LEFT TO ACCOMPLISH. SO NEO DRAGON, YOU NEED TO GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER, JACK! BECAUSE THE LITTLE HULKAMANIACS ARE OUT THERE TONIGHT ARE COUNTIN' ON YOU TO WIN TONIGHT BROTHER. WHATCHA GONNA DO, WHEN NEO DRAGON, DEEEEESTROOOOYS YOU! Hogan points to Neo Dragon, who hasn't heard a single thing he's said, instead, rubbing his Canadian championship. Hogan stares back to Brian Kendrick and Grado, clearly out of breath. Kendrick and Grado then look to each other, in disbelief at Neo Dragon's ignorance. Kendrick mutters something and then shakes his head. Kendrick then snatches the Canadian title from Neo Dragon's lap, and scampers off down the hallway, with Grado and Hogan jogging off behind him. Matt Striker: Shit lol. Neo Dragon is left looking at his empty hands, dejected. He stares off into the distance, internally deciding that now, he has no choice but to win the EWE World Tag Team Titles now, since he has no gold left. Neo Dragon walks off down the hallway in the opposite direction, to prepare for his match. The sound of a ping pong ball is heard, during a black screen. The Curse Presents: Ping Pong A Story About Balls The scene fades in to show Chris Masters and Sheamus playing table tennis in some sort of backstage room. They seem to be engaged in a lighthearted conversation, as they play the wonderful sport against each other. Chris Masters So, is this our locker room? Sheamus Couldn't tell ya. Chris Masters This would make for a great locker room, though. I mean, it's got a ping pong table and everything. Sheamus Y'know. Technically, it's called table tennis. Masters shrugs. Sheamus D'ya think we can call it a locker room if it has no lockers, too? Chris Masters I mean, we could always rip a locker from somewhere and bring it here. At this point, Masters scores a point. Sheamus picks up the ball off the floor and serves, and they resume. Sheamus What is it with you and rippin' things out anyway? Ever since the tree thing that's all ye' do. Chris Masters Hey, the tree thing was awesome. In hindsight, it feels more awesome every time I think about it. Who just rips a big ass tree from the garden and throws it through a window to save their mom? Me, that's who. Everyone was talking about me, I'm still surprised WWE didn't try to get me back, after that. Sheamus Right. Chris Masters Don't you agree? A hesitant Sheamus responds after a quick deep breath. Sheamus Well... I mean ripping a tree off the ground doesn't change the fact that you couldn't get over. Masters seems somewhat offended. Chris Masters I was getting over just fine. Sheamus Right...Well maybe they were just scared you'd start ripping the posts off the ring during your matches or somethin' fella. ??? What's up, bitches? Masters and Sheamus stop playing and turn to look at who just entered the room. The camera pans to the side to show none other than Goldust and R-Truth, wearing extremely short shorts, white polo shirts and red headbands, like they're about to engage in an extremely hot game of actual tennis. Goldust Truth and I heard there was a game room... Didn't expect to see you two here. Goldust gets uncomfortably close to Sheamus. Goldust But what do you say? We brought our own paddles. And you know it's the more the merrier when it comes to playing with... Goldust takes a deep, super uncomfortable breath. Goldust Balls. Masters and Sheamus look at each other uncomfortably. As Sheamus is about to speak, R-Truth suddenly jumps forwards, and starts body popping. Sheamus recoils backwards, as Truth stares at him intensely, as his entire body jolts around, weirdly in sync to a rythym that doesn't exist in the awkwardly silent room. Truth lifts his fist to his mouth, as though he is holding a mic. R-Truth What's up! Truth holds the invisible mic up to the air, expecting the crowd to respond. When they obviously don't, he fills in for them. R-Truth What's up! He puts his hand back to his mouth. R-Truth What's up! And back in the air. R-Truth What's up! R-Truth does a spin, before doing the splits on the floor dramatically. He then jumps back up to his feet, a big triumphant grin on his face as though he just did something very impressive. He lifts up the invisible mic, and opens up his hand, as though to imitate a mic drop. Sheamus and Masters just look at Truth, confused. Sheamus It seems like the fans are on your side tonight doesn't it fella. Masters smiles as Sheamus chortles to himself. Truth doesn't quite get the mockery. Sheamus It's got me quite worried actually, how're us two poor sods gonna find the motivation to win when the whole crowd'll be supportin' the two a' ye! Sheamus puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head sadly. Truth smiles, and nods his head instead. Sheamus And don't get me started on the intelligence I just saw! You'll be outsmartin' us from the point the bell rings to the point the ambulance sirens'll be callin' for us! With you, it'll be the closest we'll ever get to seeing Albert Einstein stepping inside a ring, I tell ye'. Sheamus acts like he's only just noticing the headbands and t-shirt on the pair. Sheamus Oh and did you say you wanted to play ping pong with us? Goldust That we did. Sheamus Oh, I don't know about that. I'm not sure we could handle two defeats from ye' in one night, could we Chris? Chris shakes his head. Sheamus So I tell ye' what! Instead, we'll give you, over to the table. Truth smiles. Goldust looks confused. Goldust Don't you mean give the table over to us? And at that, Masters has Goldust up in the air, holding him above his head in a military press. Before Truth can do anything, Sheamus hits him with a gut kick, before lifting him up over his shoulder with a High Cross. Masters and Sheamus smile at one another, before they both crash Goldust and Truth down into the ping pong table, shattering it to pieces. Sheamus I know what I said fella. Goldust and Truth lay unconcious across the broken table. Sheamus and Masters smile at them, before they head for the door of the locker room. Chris Masters He was a lot lighter than the tree. Air Canada Centre Toronto, Ontario, Canada - 12:37 PM The doors don't open to EWE One Night Only for another few hours, and yet a small group of hardcore fans is already gathering at the AIr Canada Centre in hopes of catching glimpses of their favorite stars. After months of rumors, there's a buzz of excitement among those who have gathered — this is finally happening. This is more than just dirt sheet speculation. For at least this one night, the EWE would be on top of the wrestling world. Of course, for all the crazy violence that's bound to happen in the ring tonight, the fans themselves aren't too rowdy, at least not yet. A tall security guard stands with his hands folded in front of the talent entrance, and this being Canada, the fans hanging around by the rails to greet the talent as they arrive aren't being obnoxious. That is, until they see a somewhat heavyset man jogging towards the entrance way. Normally, no one probably would have thought twice about him — just a guy in a black hoodie getting some exercise in, his long black hair dangling over his face, and his hood obscuring the rest of him. But what's bizarre about him is the other half of his body. Instead of sweatpants and tennis shoes, the man is jogging along in what looks to be...wrestling gear? Bright white trunks and white boots to match? Fan #1 Wow, CM Punk really let himself go, eh? Fan #2 Wouldn't you after getting your ass kicked in less than three minutes in front of millions? The security guard rolls his eyes and continues standing in front of the door, visibly unimpressed by this fan who thinks he can jump the gate. The fans milling about murmur amongst themselves, wondering who this guy thinks he is. But the man is still obscuring his face, even as he now jogs in place in front of the guard. He seems to be lost in his own world. Security Guard Sir, I'm going to need you to get back behind the gate with the other fans. Now. The fan holds up a hand in response, but continues jogging in place. Suddenly, he begins moving faster...faster...he starts to spin in place, his long hair dangling like a curtain. He jumps up and lands perfectly on his knees directly on the concrete, registering no pain thanks to the knee pads on his gear. He starts to catch his breath, putting an elbow on his raised knee as if in prayer. The guard puts a hand on the taser hooked to his belt, flummoxed by whatever the hell this demonic ritual dance could be. Security Guard Sir, I'm going to ask you again — Before the guard can finish his sentence, the man flips his head back. With a flourish, his hood falls down, his hair bizarrely soaking wet even though it's not raining outside. He quickly jumps back up and raises his fists in the air, his thumbs out as if he's in California. A goofy grin is plastered on his face, and he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. Bo Dallas I BOLIEVE I'm on the list, my friend! The crowd that's gathered starts murmuring again, but this time many are laughing derisively. Fan #1 Who the fuck is this guy, again? Fan #2 Did Bo Dallas even wrestle in the EWE? The security guard still has his hand on the taser. If anything, he's even more on edge. Security Guard I'm going to need to see some identification. Bo Dallas laughs an over-the-top condescending giggle, still grinning like an idiot. Bo Dallas Mr. Guard, it's so kind of you to pretend not to know me in front of the crowd! You must truly value my privacy. It's okay, friend! You're free to be yourself! You're free to acknowledge who you are! It's exactly what I stand for! Security Guard Sir — Bo Dallas holds his hand up again and makes a "Shhhhh!" noise before continuing: Bo Dallas Don't be afraid, sir! I've learned that fear limits you and your vision. It serves as blinders to what may be just a few steps down the road for you. The journey is valuable, but believing in your talents, your abilities, and your self-worth can empower you to walk down an even brighter path. Transforming fear into freedom...how great is that? Now, if you could just acknowledge that you know who I am and just let me pass through... The guard doesn't budge. Security Guard Look, Socrates, I'm going to need some ID. It's policy. This shouldn't even be a conversation. Bo's smile falters only slightly. Bo Dallas Well, you see...can I be honest with you, sir? After all, honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving... Security Guard Out with it. Bo Dallas I...am...BO DALLAS! And when I heard EWE would be returning for One Night Only, I decided I would use the opportunity to inspire my fans again! I ran all the way here from my hotel just a few blocks away when I heard the news...as you can see, I came prepared, because I know how many people look up to me and I what to tell them that to be prepared is one of this world's greatest virtues...I came to show the world what it means...to BOLIEVE!! Bo raises his arms again, but one of the fans starts to heckle him. Fan #2 Can't we just put you through a table now and be done with it? The guard is stonefaced and not buying it. Security Guard I think I would remember a loon like you. Bo is undeterred, recovering quickly, almost as if he expected this. Bo Dallas If you don't remember me, then you must remember my best friend? My favorite tag team partner? The man who wouldn't have even existed in the EWE if I hadn't graced him with the power of teamwork and friendship? Bo's smile falters again and he speaks slightly quieter. Bo Dallas You know...Zack Ryder? Brolieve? Remember us? He was supposed to sign us both in for tonight's tag match...and he was going to meet me out here with my ID. Maybe he's here already? You look like a man who's good at his menial, rent-a-cop job...I know you would be really good at checking in the back for him, maybe around catering? The guard raises an eyebrow, taken aback. Security Guard I can't let you in without something that tells me that you belong here. Rules are rules. Bo is still smiling — a pained looking fake smile, but a smile nonetheless. Bo Dallas Not in achievement, but in endurance, of the human soul, does it show its divine grandeur and its alliance with the infinite. I know you must not have achieved anything in your life, but it's not too late, for you have shown much endurance to be standing out here so vigilantly. But I know you can do something with your life...you can follow me! You can follow my example! You can find Zack Ryder for me and — Suddenly, the crowd begins cheering wildly. Many take out their phones and start taking pictures. Several call out in excitement. A hopeful Bo turns around, happy the crowd has finally taken notice, only to come face to face with a taller man - thinner, but more muscular, with short brown hair. Like Bo, he's wearing a hoodie, but he's not in wrestling gear, at least not at the moment, wearing simple blue jeans. A duffel bag hangs over his right shoulder, but the man is carrying it effortlessly, as confidently as he appears to be carrying himself. Benjamin Breaks It's good to see you too, Bo. The crowd is chanting the newcomer's name as he steps past a frozen Bo. The guard recognizes him immediately. Security Guard So the rumors were true after all! Come on in, Mr. Breaks. Breaks smiles a far more genuine smile than The Inspirational One. He nods at the guard and makes his way forward, but before he makes his way through the doors, he turns around to face the cheering crowd. It's still early in the day — now's not the time for a winding promo — but the Judoka has to say something to the fans who haven't seen him in nearly two years, especially since the last time they saw him, he had just taken infinity +1 suplexes from Brock Lesnar. Benjamin Breaks Thanks for coming, everyone. It's good to be back. Cheer for the Exodus guys, alright? As if the crowd needed a reason to cheer for Breaks. They applaud for the former Exodus Champion and continue chanting his name even after he enters the building. Bo Dallas looks sheepishly at the guard. Bo Dallas So...you let him in. Can I come in too? Please? Security Guard Yeah, I'm gonna need to see some ID. ![]() The bell rings, as the ring is almost collapsing with the weight of forty-plus wrestlers in the ring, as well as the ring announcer, Justin Roberts. Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is the first ever Tables For Every Team match! And it is for the EWE World Tag Team Championship! The camera shows a few tag teams: Michael Cole, in a shiny orange singlet, is being given advice by Matt Striker. Bad News Barrett and Good News Galloway are looking just as confident as the Green Bay Assholes do. Justin Roberts: The only way to win this match is to put all the contestants not in your team through a table! Unlike regular elimination-based match-ups, entire teams are eliminated after one member of their team is put through a table. The last team standing will become the new EWE World Tag Team Champions! Roberts leaves the ring and makes his way through the maze of folded and set-up tables outside the ring, to return to his position near the announcing desk. Joey Styles: This is our first match of the night. Let me just take this moment to introduce you to your guest announcers for this match. Myself, Joey Styles, alongside the Coach, Jonathan Coachman! Jonathan Coachman: Thanks, Styles. It's an honor to be here. And we might be here all night, considering Cole and Styles might not even make it out of this match alive! The bell rings again, and the all out brawl ensues. Batista and Bobby Lashley, the Roid Warriors, are the obvious biggest men in the match, with only Triple H and Chris Masters coming close. Chemical Imbalance are the first team eliminated, after the first ever Canadian Champion, Neo Dragon, is thrown flying out of the ring and through a table by Mick Foley! Chemical Imbalance Eliminated by The Foleys Joey Styles: Check it out, Chemical Imbalance are outta here! Jonathan Coachman: By the way, Styles, I'm not sure I appreciate you calling me a color commentator just because I'm black. Delirious starts freaking out when he realizes he just got eliminated before he could have any input in the match. But then again, is he really freaking out? He's always like this! I guess we'll never know. Kurt Angle, in the meantime, almost puts Sheamus through a table, but the Celtic Warrior manages to escape. Don't get me wrong, this match is almost impossible to write, it's that much of a shitfest. The second person to get put through a table is none other than Koala Mask IV's manager, Charlie Charlton, as he's thrown through a leaned table on a corner barricade by Bo Dallas and Zack Ryder! The Gumtree of Sacrifice Eliminated by Brolieve Such as in the early days of EWE, the All-American Americans are at it against the Olympic Gold Medallist, Kurt Angle, and trying to find a way to put him through one of the large number of tables surrounding the squared circle. Jonathan Coachman: That's two teams out! Only a shitton more to go. Joey Styles: Hey! You can't say that. Jonathan Coachman: Says who? Mr. "I hope he dies"? In spite of their best efforts, the Shelton Benjamin and Jack Swagger are outsmarted by Kurt Angle, as he's aided by his partner, and they manage to throw the Gold Standard through one of the tables. The All-American Americans Eliminated by Golden Ambition The match has now spread out through the ring, the outside, the ramp, stage and floor next to the stage. There are tables everywhere, and there are wrestlers everywhere. Joey Styles: This match is turning out just as expected! A total mesh of violence, brutality, destructions, and wood! Matt Hardy throws himself off the stage with a Side Effect, putting Ron Simmons through a table on the floor! The APA Eliminated by The Hardys Almost simultaneously, Jeff Hardy jumps off the top turnbuckle to a table on the outside, putting Bobby Lashley through a table with a Swanton Bomb! The Roid Warriors Eliminated by The Hardys Jonathan Coachman: The Hardys on a roll, now! Rob Conway gets thrown through a table in the corner of the ring by Batista with a Batista Bomb. Joey Styles: And GloboGym are out! Jonathan Coachman: No, they're not, you bozo. Batista was eliminated already! Joey Styles: Well, Conway's out cold, that's for sure. Riggins, on the other hand, is not. Despite being assaulted by both Chael Sonnen and Jack Evans, he pushes them off. Riggins grabs Evans and throws him over the top rope onto the outside floor! Sonnen grabs him from behind, but he pushes him off, and Irish Whips him into the ropes. He runs into perpendicular ropes and bounces off, POUNCE ON CHAEL SONNEN! The former MMA fighter flies through a table in the corner! Joey Styles: OH MY GOD! That was beautiful! Chael Sonnen & Jack Evans Eliminated by GloboGym Corporation Jonathan Coachman: That's definitely a candidate for moment of the night. Did you see the air Sonnen caught? Riggins picks up Rob Conway and they both leave the ring. Angelus enters the ring from the outside and picks up Billy Gunn. The Martial Arts Pirate starts throwing some kicks at the Ass Man, and his partner enters the ring to aid him, bringing with him a glass bottle of beer. Joey Styles: He's got a bottle! Gunn jabs Angelus, making him turn around in place with the momentum. Ryland swings the bottle and Angelus dodges just in time! The bottle smashes Billy Gunn's face! Glass shatters and beer fly everywhere, and a bleeding Mr. Ass falls to the mat and rolls out of the ring. Angelus pops back up... Angelus: "DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK! YOU ALMOST HIT ME!" Ryland looks down at the half-broken bottle, then at Angelus...AND SWINGS IT AT HIM!!! "OHHH!!!" Joey Styles: OH MY GOD!!! Ryland looks at the bloodied, fallen body of his former partner. Archer Ryland "I meant to hit you!" Ryland picks up Angelus and throws him over the top rope and through a table! Archelus Eliminated by Archelus Meanwhile, Matt Hardy is climbing back onto the ramp, and he is pulled up to his feet by Sheamus. Matt then pushes him off, and delivers a full backhand chop to the chest. Followed by another one, and another one. Sheamus loses momentum, but Chris Masters comes to his aid just in time, by locking in the Masterlock on Matt Hardy! Jonathan Coachman: You can tell which teams have the best chemistry here. And it's usually the former Tag Champions! Joey Styles: Not necessarily. The All-American Americans were champions. The Roid Warriors were champions. Hell, the first team eliminated was a team of former champions. Jonathan Coachman: Just shut up. Christian and John Morrison both come to the aid of Hardy, despite being on an opposing team. They manage to pull Masters off the Sensei of Mattitude, BROGUE KICK TO CHRISTIAN! CAPTAIN CHARISMA FALLS THROUGH A TABLE! The Gang Eliminated by The Curse Psycho Messiah and Matt Hardy push Sheamus over the edge! The Celtic Warrior falls through a table next to Christian! The Curse Eliminated by The Hardys Back near the ring, X-Pac gets put through the Russian announcing table by Mick Foley...Or was it Cactus Jack? D-Generation X Eliminated by The Foleys Back in the ring, the Dudleyz are brawling against Matt Striker and Michael Cole. Mainly just Striker. When they finally manage to get read of the school teacher turned professional wrestler turned color commentator, they look at a frightened Maggle. Joey Styles: Uh-oh... Jonathan Coachman: Cole's in trouble! Bubba Ray Dudley: "D-VON! GET THE TABLES!" D-Von seems confused. D-Von Dudley: "Wh--Whatchu talkin' bout Bubba?...There's tables everywhere!" Bubba looks around, noticing this. Bubba Ray Dudley: "...Shit." D-Von Dudley: "Right?" Bubba looks at D-Von. Bubba Ray Dudley: "D-Von... Do you think we've become sort of a nostalgia act?" Jonathan Coachman: Are they having an existential crisis? In the meantime, everyone else is engaged in a continuous all out brawl, but there are no eliminations in the interim. Bubba Ray Dudley: "Do you think putting people through tables actually holds any value in the foundations of our lives? Whether or not this life has any meaning, purpose, or value?" D-Von Dudley: "Not really." Bubba Ray Dudley: "That's it. COLE, ELIMINATE ME." Cole seems aghast. Bubba picks up a table and sets it up against the corner as he speaks: Bubba Ray Dudley: "I'm serious! Come on! Eliminate me!" Bubba Ray leans back against the table, and gives Cole an impatient look. Cole appears to be hesitant. Joey Styles: Cole is lost! He can't tell if this is a trap! D-Von slaps Cole in the back of the head. D-Von Dudley: "Do what the man said, son!" Michael Cole balls his hands into fists and starts shaking them. Slowly, the rest of the participants' attention is drawn to this, as well, and they temporarily stop brawling. Cole starts grunting and then shrieking, and then runs at Bubba Ray, trying to Spear him! Jonathan Coachman: HE'S DOING IT! Spear! But it's not enough to break the table. D-Von rolls his eyes and grabs the announcer, and throws him at Bubba Ray! The crowd pop! Everyone goes back to brawling. The Dudleyz Eliminated by Matt Striker & Michael Cole Bubba and D-Von leave, and Matt Striker rushes back into the ring. Him and Michael Cole hug and start jumping around, ecstatic. Jonathan Coachman: I cannot believe Michael Cole just eliminated the Dudleys. Rushing into the ring, Raven grabs both Striker and Cole by the back of the heads and throws them both out of the ring. Cole falls onto R-Truth, who loses balance and stumbles backward, trips, and falls through a table! The Golden Truth Eliminated by Matt Striker & Michael Cole Raven, impatient, rolls out of the ring and grabs Cole once more, then throws him through an actual table! Joey Styles: There he goes at last! Good News Galloway grabs Raven from behind and turns him around! Bullhammer! Raven turns in place to face Bad News Barrett who happens to be in RED MODE! BULLHAMMER! Raven spins once again, as Brolieve hold an unfolded table behind Galloway only about a foot above the floor! Double-underhook! Bad News Barrett: "NO!" Too late! Future Shock DDT! GALLOWAY FALLS BACK-FIRST THROUGH THE TABLE! Barrett & Galloway Eliminated by Raven & Psycho Messiah Raven & Psycho Messiah Eliminated by Barrett & Galloway Joey Styles: Oh my God! It's a simultaneous elimination! Jonathan Coachman: That was genius on the part of Brolieve! Joey Styles: That leaves us with eight teams left in the match! Golden Ambition, The Foleys, Brolieve, GloboGym, the Hardys, GBA, Bint Smith and Lane Kennedy and the-- Before Styles can finish his sentence, Road Dogg gets thrown through a table near the entranceway by Jeff Hardy! Joey Styles: Nevermind that shit! New Age Outlaws Eliminated by The Hardys A tired Mick Foley trades blows with both members of the Green Bay Assholes. Distracted, all three fail to notice Golden Ambition setting up two tables behind them. Kurt Angle and The Miz signal to each other. Jonathan Coachman: Oh, snap! ANGLE SLAM TO FOLEY! MIZ FOR THE SKULL-CRUSHING FINALE ON ARIES, BUT IS PUSHED OFF BY KENNEDY! The Foleys Eliminated by Golden Ambition Kennedy and Aries grab Miz! DOUBLE REVERSE STO! Golden Ambition Eliminated by the Green Bay Assholes Jonathan Coachman: Looks like we're down to five! The Green Bay Assholes now make their way to the ring, where Brolieve are brawling with Bint Smith and Lane Kennedy. Jeff Hardy also rolls into the ring. Aries tries to rush the Charismatic Enigma but Jeff ducks underneath, and falls back to the mat, tired. Aries turns around into a Dropkick by Bint Smith! Aries stumbles over the top rope and falls outside the ring. Joey Styles: This match could be over in an instant, or it could take all night! Mr. Kennedy tries to deliver a Mic Check to Lane Kennedy into a table in the corner, but gets pushed off! Lane moves out of the way as Zack Ryder runs at him at full speed! KENNEDY SIDESTEPS AND SHOVES RYDER INTO THE TABLE! JEFF HARDY RUNS AND SPEARS HIM THROUGH IT! Brolieve Eliminated by the Hardys From the outside of the ring, Aries grabs Jeff Hardy's foot and pulls him out underneath the bottom rope. Jonathan Coachman: The Assholes got out of that one by a hair's breadth! Kennedy follows to the outside and both members of the GBA start pounding on Jeff Hardy until Matt comes to the rescue, with a Double Clothesline! Joey Styles: Here comes the calvary! Jonathan Coachman: IT'S 'CAVALRY'! In the ring, Bint Smith and Lane Kennedy set up double stacked tables. In the meantime, The Hardys prepare to put Austin Aries through a table leaned against a corner barricade. Matt gets on his hands and knees and Jeff runs for the Poetry in Motion! Hardy jumps! Joey Styles: Oh my God! KENNEDY PULLS ARIES OUT OF THE WAY! ARIES TOUCHES JEFF JUST IN TIME TO HAVE IT COUNT AS AN ELIMINATION! JEFF GOES THROUGH THE TABLE AND FALLS AGAINST THE BARRICADE! Jonathan Coachman: THE HARDYS ARE OUT! Joey Styles: Wow! Hardys Eliminated by the Green Bay Assholes Matt Hardy grabs Austin Aries and throws him into the ring post, despite being eliminated. Kennedy hits him with a strong right hook to the face, and heads into the ring. Bint Smith and Lane Kennedy are prepared though. Kennedy stands up...GETS HOISTED UP! Jonathan Coachman: OH CRAP! KENNEDY GOES THROUGH THE STACKED TABLES WITH A DOUBLE FLAPJACK!!! Joey Styles: OH MY GOD! Green Bay Assholes Eliminated by Bint Smith & Lane Kennedy Jonathan Coachman: THEY'VE WON! BINT SMITH AND LANE KENNEDY FINALLY MADE IT TO THE BIG TIME! Smith and Kennedy both look completely shocked at their own feat! Joey Styles: No! GloboGym's still in this! Jonathan Coachman: Wait, what?! Riggins: "A-HA!" Riggins and Rob Conway roll out from underneath the ring, with the smuggest look on their faces, having just fooled the whole world and its uncle Joe. They get into the ring at the same time from different sides! Jonathan Coachman: They were hiding under the ring the whole time! Lane Kennedy drops Rob Conway with a Big Boot! POUNCE TO KENNEDY!!! Jonathan Coachman: POUNCE! Riggins gets up, Bint grabs him by the neck! BINTBREAKER!! Joey Styles: Modelled after Randy Orton's Inverted Headlock Backbreaker, the Bintbreaker can put just anyone out cold! Riggins rolls out of the ring, and Bint starts setting up a table as Conway climbs to his feet with the use of the ropes. Matt Striker: What?! Joey Styles: Oh. Welcome back, Matt. Matt Striker: Fuck off. Cole takes Styles' place as well. And a whole minute goes on before Sylvain Grenier and Rene Dupree show up on stage, abusing the amount of hyping like they're the greatest icons of all time. Michael Cole: It's--It's La Résistance! Bint Smith is even more confused than the crowd. Rene and Sylvain point behind him. Smith turns around, kick to the gut by Rob Conway! He lifts him in an inverted Suplex position and places his legs down on the top rope, like a slingshot, but without slingshotting, over the table. HE SPINS! EGO TRIP!!! THROUGH THE TABLE!!! THE BELL RINGS! Bint Smith & Lane Kennedy Eliminated by GloboGym Corporation Rob Conway can't believe it. His old chums are here to see him win EWE gold for the first time! Justin Roberts: Here are your winners! Representing GloboGym...Riggins and Rob! Conway!! Riggins is still out cold, outside the ring, so both championship title belts are handed over to Conway. He lifts them in the air in victory! He then leaves the ring and leaves one of the title belts next to Riggins, before making his way to his friends in La Résistance. Michael Cole: It's the reunion of the century! Rene and Sylvain grab Rob Conway and hoist him onto his shoulders, where he shows off his newly won tile belt. The scene zooms out to show a television screen, where it's also happening. It shows an angry White Goodman looking at Rob Conway being thrown into the air by Sylvain Grenier and Rene Dupree. He then sees the cameraman and pushes the camera off. White Goodman Get out of my face! |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:12 AM Post #4 |
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Administrator
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November 25th Tampa, Florida Chris Jericho paces back and forth in his living room. Matt Hardy, Christian and John Morrison are all seen in the background, playing Monopoly. Chris Jericho I just can't believe it. The whole point of that briefcase was that I could have anything I wanted. Anything, no exceptions! Chris looks at the guys, sitting around the coffee table. None of them are actually using the sofas or armchairs, but leaning against them as they rest on the floor. Jericho expects an answer from them but doesn't get one, and continues his rant. Chris Jericho Just because... Just because Stephanie was the one to put that rule in place, that doesn't give anybody the right to turn this on me just because she left!... Still no response, in the background he hears: Christian John, how much do you want for Boardwalk? John Morrison Not for sa-- Christian cuts him off with a sighing expression: Christian Fuck off. Jericho sighs, disturbingly loudly, like a 13 year old attention whore, whoring for attention. Chris Jericho And you know what annoys me the most? It's that the only thing in my way of getting my precious, beautiful creation back is that blubbery nincompoop. Matt chuckles. Chris Jericho What?! Matt Hardy ...You said poop. Christian tosses down the Monopoly bills he was holding and groans. Morrison whispers: John Morrison See what you've done? Chris Jericho I knew you were listening! John Morrison How could we not be? You haven't shut up about it for hours. Nay, months. Matt Hardy I believe you meant 'no'. Christian Shut up, Matt. Jericho sighs harshly, thinking. Chris Jericho How on Earth can I beat him in court? All I have is a document that was never passed through, signed by someone who is working for another company, for anything a defunct company can provide me. It's worth nothing! Christian now leaps up, to sit on the sofa rather than the carpet. Christian Well... Maybe. Maybe it's worth little, but you are the founder of the company. And you are a minority owner, still, just as he is. And the company thrived under you... JoMo coughs, and then there's an awkward silence. Chris Jericho It really did, didn't it? Nobody responds for a while. Chris Jericho What? Still silence. Chris Jericho Oh, come on guys. Maybe we went bankrupt once or twice, but-- Matt Hardy Eight times Chris Jericho --What? Matt now turns around to actually look at Chris. Matt Hardy We went bankrupt eight times. Jericho seems quite surprised. Chris Jericho Eight? Eight times? Really? Morrison chips in: John Morrison I'm surprised you didn't know. Christian Still!...Only like... Seven of those were your fault. But that's beside the point. Who's to say Kodak wouldn't have killed it permanently? John Morrison Like you and the ECW title? Christian stares at JoMo, outraged. Christian Fuck. Off. There's so more silence, as now Jericho pulls a chair from the dining table and sits down. John Morrison Also, it's Kodiak. Not Kodak. Y2J stands back up and walks toward the kitchen counter, to get his phone. Chris Jericho I'm gonna call him. Christian stands up, assuming that will somehow detain Jericho from phoning Kodiak at 2 AM. Chris Jericho Imma do it. Christian Chris, think this through. He doesn't. Jericho finds Kodiak's number in his contact list and rings Kodiak. Chris Jericho Hello? Jericho awaits his response. Chris Jericho It's Chris. You don't have my number? He seems rather confounded and surprised. Chris Jericho Chris Jericho! ... Chris Jericho From EWE. A rather loud "OH!" is faintly heard from the phone. Chris Jericho Listen up, you big dumb oaf. He's interrupted, the Gang now seem concerned by what's going on. They soon go back to looking unfazed. Chris Jericho Uh, hang on. Jericho walks toward his bookshelf across the room and picks up a Merriam-Webster dictionary. He shuffles through the pages while holding the phone to his ear. Chris Jericho No, I haven't heard. Jericho seems perturbed by whatever Kodiak is blabbering about Chris Jericho Yes, yes, real shame. Here! Here it is: "a big clumsy slow-witted person". There's some silence, as Chris stares angrily into the middle distance. Some noise is heard from the other end of the line. Chris Jericho Yeah, you're right. I realize now that might have sounded a tad rude, yes. You have my sincerest apologies. Another pause as Kodiak speaks. Chris Jericho Yeah, Thrifty's not too shabby, either. You'll be fine. Kodiak continues speaking. Jericho now relaxes a bit more and leans back against the bookshelf. The rest of the Gang just give up on trying to gather information on whatever's going on in the conversation and just resume their game of Monopoly. Chris Jericho It was pretty nice, how was your Thanksgiving? Jericho now looks slightly bothered. Chris Jericho Really? Well, you could've said, you could have joined us. Just spent it together, really. Kinda away from the families. After all, true friends really are something to give thanks for. That and the turkey. And the beer. Your father didn't invite you? Jericho shakes his head. Chris Jericho I can't believe it. Well, that's Vince for you, isn't it? Just goes off on a space mission and leaves his family to spend Thanksgiving by themsleves. Unbelievable. Kodiak proceeds, and Jericho promptly responds. Chris Jericho Right. What was I saying...? Kodiak interrupts, to once again talk about something else. This takes a bit of a while. Chris Jericho No, I don't really recall. Kodiak speaks again. Jericho gives off a fake laugh, as what's Kodiak saying seems to be annoying him, now. Still he tries to keep his composure. Chris Jericho You know, I can't say I am, no. Kodiak keeps going. The subject is weirdly affecting Y2J. Maybe he's impatient, maybe he's actually aggravated by what the Ravager seems to be going on and on about. Chris Jericho Kodiak. Jericho tries to cut in. However, the "conversation" continues. Kodiak!... Ain't no stoppin' Kodiak. Chris Jericho How dare you talk about EWE? EWE is MY baby! You just happened to stumble upon some shares. Kodiak keeps going, seemingly in the same tone as he previously was, but Chris is now positively enraged. Chris Jericho Well, you know what? You know what, Kodiak!? I'LL SEE YOU IN COURT! Jericho once again seems confused by Kodiak's response. Chris Jericho Of course you'll see me in court. That doesn't just overwrite the fact that I'll be seeing you there as well now, does it? You blithering asinine buffoon! Jericho lets out a weird-sounding, seemingly uncontrollable screech and throws his phone at the wall, dismantling it completely. He looks at the Gang, who all seem moderately startled by his actions, and sharply walks out of the room to catch some air outside. Once he violently slams the screen door shut behind him, he realizes he's stuck, and starts banging on it for them to let him back in. The Gang simply pretend there's no angry Canadian throwing a tantrum outside, and resume their game of Monopoly. Christian I'll give you eight thousand dollars. Canadian. John Morrison Not for sale. Christian groans. The scene closes. ![]() The camera zooms right into Justin Roberts' face. Justin Roberts: The following contest... IS A FIRST BLOOD MATCH Immediately, the fans explode into excited cheers. Justin Roberts: Scheduled for one fall! Rooker slowly walks into the spotlight, clutching an empty bottle of Jim Beam in his hand. He stands in place and glances around at the crowd before throwing the bottle to the ground, smashing it into trillions of pieces,, and beginning his descent down the ramp with a vicious roar. Justin Roberts: Introducing first, from Jasper, Alabama, weighing in at 260lbs...THE BLOOD TAKER... ROOKER!!! Michael Cole: It's been a while since we've seen Rooker here in EWE, and I think this is the perfect match for a man that calls himself The Blood taker Matt Striker: Yep, I think he might also be drunk, not that that's related to what you just said. Rooker walks up the steps and climbs through the ropes. He paces to the center of the ring, looks into the camera and rubs his hands together before turning to face the entrance ramp, anticipating his opponent. The music dies down and the crowd continue to cheer as they wait for the sanguine man himself. Rooker appears to be completely unphased as Brock Lesnar walks into view. He stands on the ramp for a few seconds before doing the ever so classic hop between feet thing that he always does. After a sufficient amount of hops have been completed, Brock squeals a mighty squeal and briskly walks down the ramp. Justin Roberts: And his opponent, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, weighing in at 290lbs... BROCK... LESNAR! Brock, upon reaching the apron, leaps up onto it, causing fireworks to ejaculate from the turnbuckles in an impressive display of pyrotechnic technology. Rooker, again, seems completely unphased and does not take his eyes off of his strange-haired opponent. Michael Cole: And you can just tell already that this one is going to be violent. Matt Striker: Oh, you think? This isn't going to end until one of these guys is opened up, there's literally no way to have a non-violent first blood match. Michael Cole: Yes, but what I'm saying is, this one will be particularly violent The two men square up to each other. Rooker mimes slitting his own throat, indicating that he is apparently going to slit the throat of the Beast. Brock responds by saying something about piss that the camera cannot pick up. Matt Striker: Ye, probably. The referee, God have mercy on his soul, somehow manages to separate the two men into opposing corners before signalling for the bell to be rung. The second that the sound waves of the bell being rung enter the ear canals of the two combatants, they run at each other at an alarmingly fast rate. Michael Cole: That was alarmingly fast Matt Striker: You're not wrong there. Rooker takes a swing at Brock, who ducks it and grabs him from behind. German Suplex! Brock rolls through and prepares to hit Rooker with a second, and he does! Rooker repeatedly hits Lesnar in the face as he tries to escape this compromising predicament, but Brock does not let go. He has a fever, a fever for more German Suplexes. Guten Tag, bitch. Brock hits a third German Suplex before letting go and taking the time to do a few hops. Rooker climbs back to his feet and ducks a Big Boot from The Beast who falls over the top rope as a result. Rooker follows in hot pursuit and lifts up the apron cover, searching for a little something something. Matt Striker: Now things get fun Yeah, it didn't take long at all for the foreign objects to start making an appearance in this match. Rooker pulls a classic steel chair from underneath the ring and approaches Brock who is now getting to his feet, using the barricade to pull himself up. Rooker takes a hard swing, but just in the nick of time Brock grabs a fan in the front row and pulls him in the way. The chair smashes into the face of this poor, innocent individual as Brock scambles to safety. The fan crumbles to the floor with blood pouring from his forehead. The rest of the fans cheer loudly. Matt Striker: And remember folks, the match is only one when blood is drawn from your opponent! That didn't count. Michael Cole: Am I the only one who is in any way concerned for that poor man in this entire arena? Matt Striker: Yep Rooker grunts and chases up Brock who is now waiting by the announce table. He raises the chair above his head, ready to take another swing, but Brock hits a Gut Kick, causing the rookster to drop his steel weapon. Brock lifts Rooker up onto his shoulders Michael Cole: He could be going for an F-5! Move, Matt! Matt Striker has already ran about 10 meters away. Brock swings Rooker round, but Rooker counters it into a DDT onto the edge of the announce table! Another loud pop from the crowd as the camera zooms to Brock's forehead. He may be looking like a tomato, but there is no blood. Rooker grabs his opponent and throws him back into the ring. Rooker grabs a cloth from his back pocket and taps it three times, suddenly, a bottle of Jack Daniels appears in the cloth! Matt Striker: Hey cool! Magic! Michael Cole: I'm not even surprised by this company anymore. Rooker downs the entire bottle before smashing it on the edge of the ring, creating a nasty jagged glass weapon. Brock gets to his feet as Rookie Rook Rookman slides into his ring. As Rooker runs at Brock with the broken bottle in hand, he makes a face like an angry, theatened cat and begins to squeal. Rooker attempts to drive the glass into Brock's face, but The Beast is just too strong. There is an intense battle of strength as Lesnar continuously screams, holding the glass away from Rooker. Eventually, something gives and Brock yanks the bottle out of Rooker's hand. He throws it, but Rooker ducks it! The glass flies over the top rope and into the face of the bleeding fan who had only just been helped up to his feet by medical officials. Matt Striker: OHHHH, it's just not that guy's lucky day is it? Michael Cole: We're going to get sued. Brock allows himself to be slightly distracted by this fan's incredible lack of luck. Rooker capitalises on this by hitting a Big Boot, kicking Brock in his ugly face and sending him out of the ring. The Beast begins to groggily make his way up the ramp and Rooker chases him. Grabbing Brock from behind, Rooker attempts to thow Brock futher up the ramp, but this is countered and it is in fact Rooker that is thrown up the ramp! What a shocking twist of events! Rooker's face smashes against the set, and Brock launches himself at his oppoenent with the force of a freight train, as in a literal freight train, not that retarded guy. The impact of this causes the entire set to collapse and the two men fall into the backstage arena, covered by a thick layer of rubble. Matt Striker: Holy shit! That's gonna be expensive to replace! Michael Cole: I think the hospital bills of these two men will be similarly expensive! The rubble shakes and Brock leaps up with an intense scream. It can be observed that he has in fact now reached a new level of redness in the face. Brock digs away at the rubble in a way that resembles when characters in the Lego Star Wars games have to build things. Eventually, he finds Rooker and drags him out of the wreckage before picking him up, hitting a few shots to the face and throwing him straight through the wall. The fans can be heard shouting in disbelief. Michael Cole: HE JUST THREW HIM THROUGH A WALL Matt Striker: IF THERE'S NO DOOR, BROCK CAN JUST CREATE ONE HIMSELF! Rooker flies through the bricks and tumbles onto the hard concrete. Rain pours on to his lifeless body, as he is now outside the arena. Brock stands triumphantly in the hole he has created in the wall before leaping at Rooker with a squeal. Rooker has the sense to roll out of the way and scrambles to his feet. Brock is immediately on his tail, but Rooker's scrambling is a little bitty bit too fasty fast for him. Rooker gets to his feet and grabs one of the bricks that is laying on the floor from where he broke through the wall. As Brock continues to run at him, Rooker throws the brick at his face. Brock squeals and holds his eye, which gives The Blood Taker enough time to figure out a plan of how he is going to go about taking blood in this particular instance. He looks over to a car that is parking in the car park just a few yards away and makes a dash for it. As the businessman gets out of his car, he sees Rooker running at him, covered in dust and pieces of brick. Naturally, he screams out and freezes before being booted several meters into the horizon. Rooker climbs into the drivers seat and puts pedal to the metal. Matt Striker: HE'S GONNA KILL HIM! Michael Cole: This is so illegal. Rooker drives the car full speed at Brock, who just stands there, almost accepting his fate with a grin. Just as the vehicle is about to make impact, Brock reaches out and grabs the front bumper, proceeding to lift the car above his head like Superman. Rooker is noticeably alarmed by this, as you would rightly expect him to be. Brock holds the car in this suspended state for a while before throwing it into a group of parked cars, causing an explosion. Rooker crawls from the wreckage, completely blackened by ash, looking like a character that gets blown up in a Loony Toons episode. Brock runs over and lifts him into position for an F-5 and hits it! He picks Rooker up again and a second F-5!!! Michael Cole: How on earth is Rooker not bleeding yet? Matt Striker: Rooker has no blood. One thing runs through that man's veins. Alcohol. Brock is visibly frustrated now and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He squeals into Rooker's face. "I'M THIRSTTTTTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!" After this announcement, Brock rushes over to a fire hydrant, picks it up and F-5's it, causing water to shoot out. Brock opens his mouth wide and succesfully manages to drink every single last drop of water that was contained in the hydrant. The redness in his face reduces and he gives an almighty burp. Fully refreshed, Brock returns to the task at hand, only to find that Rooker has climbed back into the arena. Brock leaps up into the wall in a similar fashion to the way he leaps up onto the apron, and surveys the arena. No Rooker located. Suddenly, he is clubbed from behind with a kendo stick! Rooker boots Brock in the ass, causing him to fall through a door into a dark and dingy room. Matt Striker: What the hell is that room for? Michael Cole: I have no idea but I can see slime on the walls. The camera follows the men into the room, which is in pitch black all except for a single candle burning at the far end of the room. Brock and Rooker notice this, decide it is to be ignored, and proceed to begin exchanging forearms to the face. ??? ENOUGH The two behemoths stop and turn to the candle. A face is now being illuminated by the flame. ??? Who dares to disturb me when I am trying to rest? Torches suddenly light around the perimeter of the room, and we now see who the myserious man is. Matt Striker: IT'S BANCE Michael Cole: OH MY GOODNESS It's fuckin' Bance. Brock and Rooker both look equally stunned at this turn of events. BANCE Now, gentlemen. It's time to fucking die. The door slams shut by itself, causing Brock to give a concerned squeal (a concerned squeal differs from the regular squeal in that it is slightly lower in pitch and a little less intensely delivered) Rooker appears to sober up by around 27%, leaving him at only 273% drunkenness. Michael Cole: This is not a good situation, someone needs to get in there and stop this. Matt Striker: Who the fuck is going to be able to do that? Bance removes his shirt and reveals the dreaded Sanity Breaker from behind his back. It looks even more gruseome than in its original state, bits of brain matter cling to the nails embedded in the wood. Bance smiles an autistic grin before making a dash for Rooker. He takes a swing, and Rooker ducks it. The Sanity Breaker smashes into one of the torches, knocking it to the floor and setting the rug on fire. Brock squeals at the flames but it does no good, they cannot be extinguished. BANCE THERE IS NO ESCAPE Bance twirls the Sanity Breaker in his hand before taking another swing, but before the deadly weapon can connect with Lesnar, Rooker runs and hits a Big Boot! Bance screams dramatically as he tumbles backwards into the flames. Michael Cole: This is insanely gruesome. Matt Striker: I love it, Maggle Michael Cole: No but really, wer'e crossing over into snuff film territory here. Bance screams out in agony as the flames singe his skin. Brock and Rooker watch on in complete silence. Despite being burned alive, Bance still manages to shout out. BANCE THIS IS NOT THE END. I WILL BE BACK! Brock and Rooker acknowledge this and then turn to each other. They simulataneously realise that they are currently in the middle of a match, and begin to exchange shots to the head again. They fall back out of the room and the door slams behind them as Bance's screams fade out. Matt Striker: And now we can get back to the actual match! Rooker launches himself at The Beast with a devastating Spear. Brock yells 'PISS' as the two scrap with each other on the concrete. Eventually Brock gets the advantage, mounting Rooker in the least sexual way possible and raining down forearm after forearm to the skull of Rooker. Michael Cole: And Brock could be looking to end it right here! Matt Striker: He's not going to stop until Rooker's busted open here! Brock strikes Rooker in the head at least repeatedly but still no blood. Rooker manages to throw the human piss machine off of him, and gets up to his feet. Rooker reaches into his pocket and pulls out a grenade. Michael Cole: OH MY GOD Matt Striker: HE'S GONNA BLOW BROCK LESNAR UP! IT'LL COUNT AS A WIN Rooker pulls the pin and throws it at Lesnar. IT'S DETONATION TIME The smoke clears. Rooker hides under a catering table. When he decides it's safe to get up, he slowly gets up and raises his arms. Michael Cole: Well I guess Rooker wins Matt Striker: BUT WAIT, LOOK! Out of the billowing smoke walks a large, square headed sillouette. It is Brock Lesnar, and without a single scratch on him. Matt Striker: HE NO SOLD A GRENADE TO THE FACE! Rooker wastes no time whatsoever, he runs at Brock with an almighty roar and shoves him into the wall. Brock is taken aback by this, and this gives Rooker the opportunity to hit a Big Boot, sandwiching Brock's red face between the brick wall and his size 12 boot. Brock falls to his back. Rooker runs off camera for a second and returns with a cement mixer. Michael Cole: What the hell is he doing now? Rooker pours the cement over Brock, who squeals. When Rooker is done, Brock is covered in enough cement to cover an entire highway. Only the head of The Beast pokes out, helpless. The cement quickly hardens, and Rooker grabs a steel chair. Matt Striker: Ingenious! Michael Cole: I don't like where this is going Rooker spits in Brock's face before hitting chair shot after chair shot to the face of Brock. Brock is completely unable to defend himself, all of his limbs are completely bound by cement, he can simply lay there and take the shots. Rooker hits around 30 shots to the face before finally, Brock's forehead busts open. He is left completely unconscious. Michael Cole: That was absolutely brutal but we have a winner! Matt Striker: Rooker found a way to beat the Beast! I bet he's too drunk to remember this in the morning. Rooker looks at the camera with a smile as the referee screams at him that the match is over. Rooker defeated Brock Lesnar by First Blood in 17:23 minutes. Rooker's eyes then glaze over, and he passes out. The camera films him, out cold, before panning to Brock's unconscious head. His eyes open, and he begins squealing, as the scene fades out. November 25th Undisclosed Location Kodiak puts down a large cardboard box in a living room as Stevie Richards walks into the room. Kodiak That's the last of it, we are officially moved in! Stevie Richards Hey thanks again for letting me move in to your new house with you. Kodiak You can stay as long as you help pay the mortgage. Kodiak looks at the clock. Kodiak Well, it's getting late, I'm gonna head to the kitchen and try to sort out some paperwork and bills out before I head to bed. Kodiak heads into the kitchen and sits at the kitchen table which is covered in stacks of papers. Stevie screams from the other room. Stevie Richards Where did you put my duvet? Kodiak What is that? What kind of word is that? Stevie Richards It's like a big blanket and I think it's a French word. Kodiak I barely have a grasp on English, let's avoid foreign languages please. Kodiak walks to the hallway closet and tries to turn the knob. He pulls the door but it doesn't budge. Kodiak get's angrier the longer the door won't open. Then with one hard tug he rips the door right off the hinges and it sends him flying into the wall. Kodiak Does home owner's insurance cover broken doors and holes in the wall? Stevie Richards Not if you do it yourself. Kodiak FUCK!... Also, I found your blanket thing. Kodiak lays the door against the wall and pulls the duvet out of the closet. He hands it to Stevie and returns to the kitchen. He sits at the table and starts to read one of the papers. Kodiak I need a pen. Kodiak walks over to one of the kitchen drawers in search of a pen. He opens the drawer and inside are 4 dildos. Kodiak I should have never bought a house from Dylan James. Kodiak just heads back to the table and begins to look over the papers again. "Waterfalls" by TLC begins playing from Kodiak's pocket. Kodiak reaches in and pulls out his firefly cellphone. He answers and we hear muffled "Hello?". Kodiak This is Kodiak McMahon, owner and CEO of Extreme Wrestling Empire. Who am I speaking to? A confused look comes across his face. Kodiak I met quite a few people named Chris recently, can you be more specific? Kodiak racks his brain upon the acquisition of the full name. Kodiak Still not ringing a bell. A look of realization crosses Kodiak's face. Kodiak OH! Another confused look crosses Kodiak's face. Kodiak I'm still not up to date with the whole English language thing, what does oaf mean? Kodiak picks up one of the papers and reads it. Kodiak Hey, did you hear that the old company that used to make the EWE shirts went out of business? Kodiak continues to flip through the papers. Kodiak They had children hand pick the cotton and the government-- A frown comes across Kodiak's face. Kodiak You went a bit far with that insult, I've been working really hard to clean up my image and my life and people like you don't make it easy. Kodiak leans back in his chair listening to Chris talk. Kodiak Thank you for apologizing. Oh by the way I need to find a new rent a car service for everyone since Avis won't rent to us any more after the Markus Alice incident. Do you think Enterprise will be okay? Kodiak writes down the word "Thrifty" on a piece of paper. Kodiak Thanks for the suggestion. How was your turkey day? Kodiak now gets up from the table and grabs a glass of milk from the fridge. Kodiak It was alright, Stevie and I just ate KFC because we were too busy moving into our new house. Kodiak sits back down at the table and starts to stack up the papers. Kodiak No, he said he was going off to Mars to explore the Martian options for the network. Kodiak scratches his chin as he tunes out for a second. Kodiak Random question, why did you call me exactly? Kodiak picks a paper off the stack and realizes he has business to attend to. Kodiak I was looking over everyone we have on the payroll and it came to my attention that your contract expires in a few months. I was looking over all the documents from the last couple of months and it does not seem like you have not negotiated a new one. Did you and Stephanie ever start contract negotiations? Kodiak writes what Chris says down. Kodiak Are you thinking about retirement? Kodiak begins to write stuff down. Kodiak Well, EWE would like to offer you a retirement package. If you accept it you will retire, but we have many things planned out for you. First, you would announce it on twitter. Then, you would do a big long retirement speech and we would get the crowd eating it all up. We'd then host a week of Chris Jericho content... A faint "Kodiak." is heard from the phone. Kodiak Then we would induct you in the Hall of Fame and you could invite whoever you want to the ceremony. Then you would get a weekly interview segment in the style of your... Kodiak squints his as he tries to read a word off a piece of paper. Kodiak ...podcast. Another audible "Kodiak!" comes from the phone. Kodiak And then we'll have you on a Legends Contract, so you'll be able to work wherever you want as long as you don't appear on television for another wrestling company. Kodiak is taken aback by Chris' reaction. Kodiak Well, if you're not happy with the package then we can negotiate at another time, but maybe you should let it simmer for a day or two... Kodiak has a confused look on his face. Kodiak I am going to be in court in a few days to deal with that supermarket clerk I put through a deli counter, but I will be seeing you there? An indescribable scream comes from the phone and the call abruptly ends. Kodiak Hello? Stevie walks into the room. Stevie Richards Who was that? Kodiak shrugs. Kodiak Wrong number. Kodiak walks back over to the fridge and tugs on the door. The door flies off and produce goes everywhere. Kodiak FUCK! Stevie Richards Maybe we should look into some extended warranties. We come back to ringside. ![]() Justin Roberts climbs into the ring with a smile upon his face as usual. What's he always so happy about anyway? Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The Time Spawn Gravitas Crescendo Experience! There is complete silence throughout the building as a group of six greasy, rodent-like twenty somethings walk out onto the stage. One gets up on the drumkit which for some reason does not feature a snare or any cymbals as they have been replaced with strange plastic tubes that look like they came from a landfill. Two of the unkempt men hold one stringed guitars, one man sits in the center of a completely circular keyboard and finally the frontman holds a megaphone in his hand. Matt Striker: What the hell Michael Cole: This looks complex After a few uncomfortable seconds more of silence, the band break out into their "song" The crowd all pull the same grimacing expression as Justin Roberts begins to announce the match. Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Matt Striker: Oh, my God The silent grimacing turns to boos as none other than the leader of the wrestling renaissance, Chris Hero, makes his way from behind the curtain. He is wearing a top hat that has been modified to include side flaps that extend all the way around his head and connect with a button under his chin. The rest of his outfit is even stranger to say the very least. To start with, he is wearing trousers that literally go all the way up to his neck. There is no shirt. His arms come out from where the pockets would usually be on a regular pair of trousers, and they are decorates with various wristbands and tassels. Finally, to complete the outfit, he is wearing a huge cloak that makes his shoulders appear to extent out about three feet in each direction. The commentators say nothing, we can simply hear both of them sniffling to themselves, trying to contain their laughter. Hero strolls over to the frontman of The Time Spawn Gravitas Crescendo Experience and rests three fingers across his face. The man returns the favour. Matt Striker: Is this how millennials shake hands? Michael Cole: Hey, it's no use asking me! Justin Roberts: Introducing first, from Dayton, Ohio, weighing in at 220 pounds, he is the Leader of the Wrestling Renaissance... CHRIS... HERO! Chris swaggers down to the ring, adjusting his cloak every now and then to ensure it does not get caught on anything. One of the fans in the front row makes an attempt to reach out and touch the eccentric wrestler, but he has none of it, drawing a fly swatter from his fanny pack and swatting the common man's hand away. Michael Cole: Well that's one way to deal with it I suppose Hero climbs into the ring but the band have not finished their music so he just stands there until they stop. The second the song ends, the band run off stage in a single file line, saying nothing to one another. The spotlights focus in on the ring now, and Chris has his own microphone in hand, but he does not seem ready to address the crowd just yet. After stroking his chin, staring at the stage for a considerably long amount of time, he nods to himself and gives a single clap. Chris Hero An exquisite performance. I award you a light seven to a strong six. Hero now turns his attention to the audience. Chris Hero So here we are. Extreme Wrestling Empire lives once again, and just as before, I am expected to show up and ensure the show has some taste. I don't expect any of you people standing here to remember the last time I stood in this awful ring in this awful company, as your memory capacities are pushed beyond full on a daily basis by your silly Facebook timelines and Twitter feeds, so allow me to remind you. When I first signed with this company during its previous incarnation, I knew that I was signing with a company that would surely be dead within a few months. Matt Striker: No shit, what do you expect us to keep working for over three months at a time? Michael Cole: It's not often I agree with you, Striker, but you're right. This guy is clearly even more insane than I thought! Chris Hero So I assume a large portion of all of you are now sitting there with your fingers pressed to your temple now thinking 'Chris, why did you sign with the company if you knew they were going to die?' Well I'll tell you. It's not about the money for me, and it never has been. I currently have no money in my bank account as we speak, as a matter of fact. Unlike all of you sitting here, and all of you sitting on your couches at home watching this on pay per view like morons, I can live without material possessions. Hero signals to the mat in a dramatic fashion and whispers. Chris Hero I live off the land. Hero continues to whisper in this weird way. Chris Hero I grow my own crops. I fetch my own water from the rivers. I slaughter my own meat. Matt Striker: Is he actually even allowed to do that? Michael Cole: So he's homeless? Chris Hero You know I can hear you, Michael Cole. Yes, you might say that I'm homeless. I built my home out of spare parts and string... And it is still much more comfortable than anybody else's house in this building. I digress. I didn't need the money. The reason I decided to become a part of this company is quite simple. I wanted to try my very best to make it a show worth watching. A show with some taste, like I said before. I tried to create a renaissance in the world of wrestling, because for too long the world of combat sports has been too full of degenerates and meatheads who have likely never read a single book in their lives. I wanted to make wrestling something you could watch and take something away from, not just something to keep your eyes busy while you sit doing nothing with your miserable lives. I tried to save you all from a life of complacency and pointlessness. I tried so very hard to do this, but my efforts were completely rejected by every single last one of you. You refused to follow my example. You refused to even attempt to improve yourselves and your tastes. Instead of watching my matches that I spent hours upon hours planning each week to ensure it lived up to my artistic standards, you were much more interested in matches featuring bone-headed neanderthals like Brock Lesnar and Batista. Instead of taking notes during my lectures to you all, you were more interested in degenerates such as my opponent here tonight... Dylan James. At the mention of this name, the crowd explode into cheers. Chris Hero And sure enough, the company did die. It is your fault. You failed yourselves, you failed to reject this trash that was being fed to you each and every week. I do not pity you anymore, and I will not try to save you again. I denounce you all, and from this point forward, there will be no more wrestling renaissance. The one thing I will give to you tonight is an explanation as to why I'm here if not to continue my futile mission. Well, I believe that this explanation is so very simplistic that you may be able to actually understand without having to consult the internet for further information. I am not here to display an artistic performance in the form of a wrestling match. I am not here to expand your mind. I am here to punish you for your sins. If you will not change your tastes, I will just destroy what you love. Tonight, I am officially booked to have a regular match against Dylan James - a man you praise for his disgusting and tasteless sexual endeavours. A man who, week after week, comes out and talks about having... Chris scrunches up his face in complete repugnance. Chris Hero Talking about doing unspeakable things to maidens. Dylan James calls himself the penetrator and I'm certain that this is his method when it comes to sexual intercourse. Chris Hero begins to pace around the ring. Chris Hero Let me tell you all something about sexual intercourse... Michael Cole: Oh God Matt Striker: Fuck Chris Hero Sexual intercourse between a male and a female is more than just penetration. It is in fact a form of art in itself. Why do you think so many great artworks are inspired by it? When it is treated as such, it is a beautiful thing. Dylan James disgraces it. In a way, you could infer from that that Dylan James is a disgrace to life itself. If Dylan James were to die, it would be perfectly justified. He's a degenerate Michael Cole: That's kinda harsh. Chris Hero This is a man who has had a lesson coming to him for a long time, and I missed my chance before, but I will not make that same mistake again. This is a man that clealy needs to be taught that his actions have consequences, that some things just aren't acceptable. I am going to decimate Dylan James tonight. After tonight's contest, Dylan James wont be able to move his body, let alone in engange in sexual intercourse ever again. Maybe then, just maybe, he'll realise that he is a degenerate that is beyond saving and must be destroyed. Maybe all of you will take the beating as a warning. Either way, it makes no difference to me. This is the last time you will see me inside a wrestling ring. This is the last time I will appear on national television. You have proved to me that you will not be changed, and now I will see to it that you pay the price. Chris's voice takes on a rather psychotic tone. Chris Hero Yes... The ultimate price... Ha... Ha... Ha... Chris stares into the camera Chris Hero THE ULTIMATE PRICE With this, Hero removes his trousers, hat, shades and cloak, leaving just his ring attire underneath. Michael Cole: Well that got a little weird at the end there. Matt Striker: I'll tell you what, I've never seen Chris Hero look this intense before, this should be interesting to watch. The camera focuses on the stage area... A huge pop comes from the crowd at the sound of the all too familiar guitar riff of the entrance music of DJ, most likely because of him being such a fan favourite, but never getting pushed because of backstage politics (sick burn, Dyldo). The first pop is topped only by him steeping out from the curtain. The Hung Flyer stands there for a moment, taking it all in. The words "Sore Throat Remedy" and an arrow point down are written on his abdomen. He raises the mic to his mouth, and the music stops. Dylan James Welcome, gentlemen and...ladies. A cheer comes from the females in the crowd. Dylan James To the One Night Only appearance of Dylan James. The crowd cheers as DJ starts down the ramp. Dylan James Wow, what a time to be here. All these great EWE legends and performers, spread across all incarnations of this business are gathered here to put on one more show for you great fans. Then, there's Chris Hero. The crowd cheers, because everybody likes to make fun of Chris Hero. |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:13 AM Post #5 |
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Dylan James Can you believe this guy? Talkin' 'bout signing with the company knowing it was going under, saying confusing shit about being a hobo, saying that he gets his own corn, grabs his own water and slaughtering his own meat? Listen buddy, nobody wants to hear what you do with your own meat. The crowd laughs. Dylan James And what do you know about "Sexual intercourse" He says the last couple of words in a very mocking tone, making the crowd laugh once again. Dylan James You talk about it like you can only have all that lovey dovey sex, but every man's gotta "Pump 'N Go" a smokin' hot redhead every now and then, you catch me? Hero is starting to get irritated a little bit. Dylan James I mean, no sight is better than witnessing a chick screaming your name, curlin' her toes, and holdin' on to the sheets for dear life. Not that I would expect you to even want to see that happen. At least, not with a girl... Hero is starting to look more and more mad at DJ. Dylan James Don't worry buddy, I won't go there today. But, I will go somewhere else, back when you we're talking about sex and art an' shit, you said something about the reason why people drew sex scenes was because it was "beautiful" or something? The reason why those pictures we're drawn was because people wanted to see some titties! The crowd cheers at titties, of course. Dylan James That's right Christiano, those "Beautiful Works of Art" you keep talking about we're basically modern day porn. I mean think about it, if you can, you're not that smart, neither is Kodiak... Dylan seems to get lost in thought, before snapping back, while the crowd is laughing at his snide remarks of his rival. Dylan James Wait, what was I talking about? Ah, I forget, couldn't have been anything too important if I was talking about that Caveman. The crowd laughs, yet again. Dylan James Let's see, what else did you talk about that I can make fun of? Oh yeah, you wanted to "punish" this crowd for something? Pal, you starting punishing these people when you first showed yourself here, then you made it even worse by taking off your clothes, exposing that fat gut of yours to these very fine people. Like, god man, at least warn people first before unveiling that Dunlop to the world. Hero looks furious, leaning over the ropes at DJ. Dylan looks as if he just remembered something. Dylan James Oh shit, I almost forgot something, I got a gift for all you guys! The crowd waits in anticipation while he digs around in his fur coat. Finally, he pulls out a burlap sack. He reaches inside, and pulls out a flesh coloured dildo, with a face, long hair, and a short beard on it. He holds it up for everyone in the audience to see to see. Dylan James Introducing the first shipment of Official Chris Hero Dildos! The crowd laughs the hardest it has yet. Dylan James Now you can screw yourself, just like Chris Hero screws over every single match and promo that he does! Now, who wants one? People in the crowd start cheering and holding their hands up to catch a Chris Hero Dildo. He walks around the outside of the ring, throwing Dildos into the crowd. Chris Hero is getting furious at this point, stomping around the ring, shouting at James. Dylan shows a Dildo to Hero. Dylan James What's the matter big guy? You want one too? Dylan throws the Dildo to Chris, but it just bounces off his chest and falls to the ring mat. Dylan goes back to standing at the end of the ramp. Dylan James But wait, there's more! Call now and for no extra charge, receive a... Dylan turns his back to the ring, and starts rummaging around again, before turning around, exposing a Strap On, with the same Chris Hero Dildos as before. Dylan James A Chris Hero Strap on! Who wants to see this baby? Dylan then hops onto the barricade, proudly sporting the Strap On. he starts walking on the barricade, giving everyone in the front row quite the eyeful. Dylan James Careful though folks, don't touch it. 'Cause just like the real Chris Hero, you might get a strange disease. The crowd laughs as DJ hops off on the barricade. At this point, Hero is the maddest he has ever been, rolling on the ring mat, literally throwing a tantrum. Dylan looks at him, puzzled. Dylan James Geez, what's got your knickers in a know big guy? Was it the Strap On? Maybe the Dildos I created without your permission? Or is it the fact that the Dildos are going to be getting 10 times the action that you have ever, or ever will, get? Or the fact that I made fun of everything you tried to seriously talk about? C'mon buddy, talk to me! We need communication if this is going to work out. Dylan looks at him, awaiting a response, but Chris is seething mad, looking like he is about to explode. Dylan is thinking of what could possibly be making Hero mad, then it looks like he gets an idea. Dylan James I got it! Chris hero is so mad because, tonight... The crowd waits for James to speak. Dylan James You are all going to witness, a shitload of the highest flying, bitches crying, cheating and lying, virgin defiling, one and only, Dylan...Fucking...James. Dylan slides into the ring, and sways his hips while taking off his fur coat, preparing for the match to begin. After circling each other awhile, the competitors seem quite ready, and the greasy, tiny, red, fat referee orders for the bell to ring. Matt Striker: Here goes! Michael Cole: And this match has been 2 years in the making. These two didn't see eye to eye when Chris Hero debuted in the EWE, and they definitely did not see eye to eye after their respective changes of hearts. Matt Striker: That's right, ladies and gentlemen, this is not a dream. Dylan James did, indeed, use to be a cuckolded goody two-shoes and, check this, Chris Hero a NORMAL PERSON! The two former Exodus Champions lock-up, and the Leader of the Wrestling Renaissance swiftly takes control over the Hung Flyer with a Side Headlock. James, however, pushes Hero off him. The latter bounces off the ropes, and ducks under a Clothesline by James. Hero springboards off the middle rope! Corkscrew Cross Body! Both wrestlers get up at the same time, kick to the gut, Backbreaker! Matt Striker: You go, Hero. You know, Cole, I don't like hearing him speak, but he's a fantastic ring general. Hero tries to pick up DJ but, noticing the referee is busy looking over his shoulder while scratching his ass, James lands a low blow to the Leader of the Wrestling Renaissance. Matt Striker: THAT'S AWESOME! Michael Cole: That is low! Matt Striker: Dylan James finally earned my respect. Hero falls to his back. James poses for the crowd, Standing Shooting Star Press! Matt Striker: And, like that, he lost it. Michael Cole: What, you don't like people who jump? Matt Striker: I don't like people who pander. Dylan James leaps onto the top rope, looking to end this early. Hero hops to his feet and pulls DJ's legs from under him, and he falls crotch first into the thingy that connects the ring ropes to the ring post in the corner! "OOOOHHHHHH!!!" Hero gets on the second rope, grabbing James by the waist! SUPER GERMAN SUPLEX! The Hung Flyer bounces off his neck awkwardly and flips onto his chest. Hero climbs to the top rope and waits for him to stand back up. He's to his feet! Blockbuster! Michael Cole: Nice move! Both wrestlers get up at the same time, James being a lot groggier than Hero at this point. Hero throws a high kick that James ducks under, then swings his own leg around taking down the Leader of the Wrestling Renaissance with a Leg Sweep. Hero falls to his back with his legs raised, and Dylan James rolls himself over the back of his legs, in an innovative pinning attempt that catches Mr. Redferee off-guard. He gets to the count soon enough, though! ...1... ...2... Kickout! Both wrestlers, once more, get up at the same time. PITCHFORK ELBOW! NO! JAMES DUCKS UNDER! Kick to the gut! DP!? NO! Hero pushes him off! CYCLONE KILL! HERO HITS THE CYCLONE KILL! PIN! ...1... ...2... Kickout! Michael Cole: I was sure that was it, right there! Matt Striker: It should have been. Dylan James is a degenerate. Hero gets up, and brings Dylan James up with him. European Uppercut followed by an Irish Whip Kitchen Sink! Hero covers him, yet again, but James kicks out even earlier, this time around. Hero paces around in the ring, and removes his elbow pad, then puts his hands on his knees as he bends and waits for DJ to get up. Matt Striker: Here it comes! James gets up! PITCHFORK ELBOW! NO!! HE DUCKS UNDERNEATH AGAIN! KICK TO THE GUT! DP! THIS TIME IT CONNECTS! The crowd go wild! James proceeds to climb to the top turnbuckle and sway his hips around. He points down at hero and goes for the Balls Deep 450! HE JUMPS! HERO SITS UP! Matt Striker: HOLY! ELBOW TO THE FACE AS JAMES COMES DOWN! Matt Striker: FUCKITY FUCK! Michael Cole: PITCHFORK ELBOW! A hurting Chris Hero rolls Dylan James over! ... ...1... ... ...2... ... ...3!!! The bell rings! Chris Hero defeated Dylan James by pinfall in 12:02 minutes His old theme song hits, and Chris Hero gets up, staggering to the referee who raises his hand. Justin Roberts: Here is your winner! CHRIS! HERO! Hero then places three fingers on his own forehead, and takes a bow. The scene fades out, and back in. It's been a while since Blackout has set foot in an EWE arena, yet here he is, just like in the old days. The Artist sits at the foot of a stairwell somewhere within the bowels of the arena, his EWE World Wrestling Championship placed across his knees. Usually Blackout would be void of emotion, yet that isn't the case this time. Blackout So many vivid memories come back to me when I think about the Extreme Wrestling Empire. So many highs and lows throughout my journey in this company. It all lead me to this... Blackout ran his fingers across the face plate of the World Wrestling Championship I've waged wars for this championship. I've fought tooth and nail against some of my greatest enemies and some of my closest friends to maintain a perch at the very top of the EWE card, but you can't do that forever. You can't go at one hundred and ten percent every night you perform without eventually facing the consequences... Or without it all catching up to you. Blackout takes a deep breath, then continues. Blackout My body isn't what it used to be, and the doctors have told me I can't do this anymore. They said if I continue down this path, I won't be able to walk when I'm older. I won't be able to remember things. I might even find myself in an early grave. The Artist brushes his hair out of his eyes, revealing his face for the first time. He looks sadder than he ever has before, his eyes noticeably red. Blackout My match against Markus Alice tonight, at One Night Only... He paused ... Will be my last. He grips the railing of the stairs and pulls himself up to his feet, carrying the title in his left hand by the strap. Blackout I won't sit here and talk about how I'll destroy my former protege, or how I'll break every bone in his body. Instead, I want him to know something. Blackout looked dead into the lens of the camera At One Night Only, I might be passing the torch to you, Markus. If you seize the day and capture the World Wrestling Championship, you'll be set for your entire career. It'll be a defining moment for you. But that's if it happens. See, I won't be going out there with the intention to lose. The better part of my career was built on chasing after this championship, and call me selfish but... He smirked I plan on retiring on top. Blackout nods and holds the title up to the camera. Blackout I'll see you there. With that, Blackout walks off into the darkness of the arena, his footsteps echoing through the halls until eventually they could no longer be heard. We come back to a silent, sullen arena. Michael Cole: Wow. Matt Striker: Shit. Michael Cole: That is something we were not expecting. The bell rings. Justin Roberts: The following contest is a Steel Cage match! The crowd cheers. I'd say they cheer loudly, but they really don't. They just cheer. They don't hate Jack Jones, and they don't like Jack Jones. However, Jack Jones is the enemy of GloboGym, and they love hating GloboGym, so they cheer. Not because they hate GloboGym, but just because they don't cheer for GloboGym. Matt Striker: Out he comes. "Zeus" Jack Jones in tha house represent ching ching mah main man Cole. Michael Cole: What are you doing? Matt Striker: Just bein' from da street, mah n- Michael Cole: NO! Jack Jones finally comes out, to just a little bit of a pop. He raises his arms, both intact, at last, before making his way down the ramp. Justin Roberts: Introducing first, from Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing at 200 pounds...ZEUS! JACK! JONES! Jones makes his way up the steps and into the ring, where he poses a bit for the fans. Matt Striker: Wait, he's from Cincinnati? What a fucking poser. The crowd gives a loud but mixed reaction. Mostly boos, after Rob Conway's betrayal put them in a bad spot with the crowd, who are now solidly behind the pseudo-Frenchman. White Goodman jogs out, wearing what looks to be a bath robe, but might just be a fighting robe. On the back of the robe is the GloboGym logotype, and around his waist, tying the vestment, is not a rope of cloth, but the GloboGym Championship. Behind follow one half of the EWE World Tag Team Champions, Riggins, as well as Kerwin White. Goodman seems pissed off immensely, visibly shaking, sweat all over his face, dripping from his magnificent moustache. Justin Roberts: And his opponent, representing the GloboGym Corporation, weighing at 180 pounds... WHITE...GOODM--! White Goodman SHUT UP! Roberts does as told, after Goodman somehow got a microphone just in time to cut him off. White Goodman CUT THE FUCKING MUSIC! Goodman stares daggers into Jack Jones, absolutely livid. White Goodman You listen to me, Jack Jones... You listen very carefully. Goodman points at Jones, exercising so much strength with his arm that it shakes almost violently. White Goodman You started all of this. Your leaving before your development was completed is the very reason Rob Conway decided he could do the same. WHEN HE COULDN'T! And I'm going to make him pay for it, after I'm done with you. And you will KNOW when I'm done with you! Goodman turns around, staring at the titantron. White Goodman But for now... For now I'm going to deal with a more pressing matter. All of you twits in the production truck, you oughta know that I'm not going down to the ring until you completely REMOVE Rob Conway from the video! This match will not start until there is no image of that two-faced back-stabbing turncoat two-timing weasel rat Benedict Arnold Judas in MY entrance video! Goodman drops the microphone. The fans don't know whether to boo or laugh at his antics. Matt Striker: You tell'em, White! Michael Cole: Oh, for Christ's sake, Matt. Matt Striker: Rob Conway IS a two-faced back-stabbing turncoat two-timing weasel rat Benedict Arnold Judas, AND a deceiver. Greg Steele comes out, bringing with him four steel chairs, despite his obvious difficulty to do so with both of his arms in plaster. He tries handing them over to Riggins or Kerwin, but they both ignore him, and he has to set them up, himself. Michael Cole: My God, is their lack of scruples ever going to reach rock bottom? When the steel chairs are finally set up, all four remaining members of GloboGym sit down on them. Jack Jones decides to wait rather than get involved, as from the moment Goodman is in the cage with him, it will be one on one. Matt Striker: HURRY UP WITH THE EDITING, FUCKHEADS! The scene fades out, and then fades in to a room backstage. It's decorated all around with framed pictures of Matt Hardy wrestling and posing. At the center is a podium, facing a large group of chairs. Wrestlers, in or out of EWE contract, other personnel and professional wrestling figures are entering the room and taking their places on various seats. Despite seeming to be an informal yet official affair, some people still restrain from being absolute dicks and respectfully talk quietly to each other if they do at all. Bob Backlund Who is this Mack Hardy, anyway? The person he talked to just looks at him through the corner of their eye before replying. Kirk Lopez >Bob Backlund. As soon as almost everyone has finished taking their seats, a very dapper looking Chris Jericho takes the podium, followed by an even dapperer looking John Morrison. Chris Jericho Welcome everyone. Welcome to the fourth ever EWE Hall of Fame induction ceremony. Tonight, joining Randy Orton, Christian, and Shawn Michaels, we honor Matt Hardy and present him with this induction. John Morrison Let me just clear something up really quick, Chris. Morrison steps up in front of Jericho, taking the microphone. John Morrison There are no Halls of Fame in the Palace of Wisdom. Only regular halls, and regular fame. Some laughs are heard amongst the audience. Chris Jericho We didn't prepare a video package or anything because, as I presume we all know, Matt does not watch movies without subtitles. Some more laughs are heard. Chris Jericho But I will tell you this. When I met him again during the very first month of his EWE career, I didn't expect him to be as stable as he was. I know this sounds like I'm thinking about somebody else, but when Matt Hardy left the WWE, he was in a pretty rough place. Coming here, I can honestly say, saved and rejuvenated both his life and career. Morrison blows his nose really hard into a tissue as he pretends to cry: John Morrison They grow up so fast... Some more laffz. Chris Jericho He got drafted to Genesis which I knew was a mistake from the get-go. He was tough and an entertainer, which was purely XPlosion material back in the day. We all know how much of a mess Genesis was when it initially hit the scene, after all. Only slightly better than the XFL, right? Some laughs of rememberance. Turned out his Genesis contract was more of a try-out than anything else, and when I saw him stand out as much as he did, I stole him over to the A-show as soon as it was up. Let me tell you, that was one of the smartest business moves I ever made. A voice is heard from off camera Christian I... Have something to say. JoMo and Jericho look at Captain Charisma who now walks into view and takes his place at the podium. They shrug their shoulders and allow the man to speak. Christian When I first met Matt Hardy, I thought he was a pretty weird guy. Not as weird as his brother, Jeff, but still a pretty weird guy. They were both weird people, him and Jeff, but Matt was less weird. I remember looking at Matt when I first met him and thinking to myself, 'you know something, Christian? That guy looks pretty weird'. And as I got to know Matt, that original thought was only verified to me, as I came to realize that I was right all along, as I came to realize that he is in fact a pretty weird guy. But that leads me to what I wanted to say tonight. You see, while Matt Hardy may be a pretty weird guy, he was still a friend to me when we weren't putting each other through tables. He was still there for me when we weren't smashing each other over the head with steel chairs. He was still a shoulder to cry on when we weren't throwing each other from the top of ladders to the outside of the ring through multiple tables that we had previously stacked with the intent to cause career threatening injuries. And for that reason, I think Matt Hardy is more than deserving of being inducted into this Hall of Fame class. Jericho gives a slow clap and signals for Christian to move from the podium. Christian seems like he does not want to leave just yet, but Jericho insists. Chris Jericho Beautiful words there from Christian, thank you Christian. Christian gives a huge grin at this acknowledgement. Chris Jericho Now, where was I? Ah yes, the history of Matt Hardy. I have it all here in the history book of Jericho. Jericho proceeds to pull out a large volume from under the podium and opens it to the contents page, he flicks through a little and then gives a huge smile. Chris Jericho Ah, yes. The glory days. On the book, as the camera zooms in, we see a glued-on photo of Matt assaulting Jack Evans from behind with a fire extinguisher. Chris Jericho Here he is. Soon after his XPlosion debut. What a guy. What. A. Guy. Jericho throws the book away. Chris Jericho Well that's enough of history. Ladies and gentlemen, MATT HARDY! A man walks into the room covered in a white sheet with eye holes. He approaches the podium as people display a vast array of reactions that range from light chuckling, all the way to indifference. The man, who we will refer to as Matt Hardy because it is not like anyone thought otherwise, attempts to fix the mic so he can begin to speak. However, he struggles to grasp the mic with his hands underneath the sheet. He whispers to Jericho, requesting help. Chris sighs, but then walks over to help. Once done, the Ayatollah takes his original position behind Matt. Matt Hardy Before I start, I was told that I need to say the following: Hardy clears his throat loudly. Matt Hardy EWE and its sponsors do not condone any form of cultural appropriation. The room filled with laughter the moment Hardy uttered the blatant lie. Matt, without a pause, powers through the laughter. Matt Hardy All employees of EWE are prohibited from preforming anything that is deemed of that nature is completely prohibited. Christian whispers to Jericho. Christian I'm surprised he managed to memorize the company's policy on cultural appropriation. Chris Jericho Yeah, mainly because we don't have one. Jericho's eyes do not wander off of Matt, nor does he blink, for he is too excited to see what Matt has in store. Scratch that, excited is not the right word. Over the years, Chris has developed a game that revolves around predicting Matt's idiotic schemes before they are revealed. Sounds simple on the surface, but Chris has kept changing the rules and the score tracking system so many times to make the game very convoluted. The rules to the game have not been shared with anyone, especially Matt since doing so would make him an active participant in the game. To Jericho, Hardy is more of a worthy adversary when he does not know what he is playing. Still, Chris finds no challenge in this game no matter how much harder he tries to make it on himself, which is why excitement is far from the right word to describe his feelings. Anxious, that's a better word. This is the first time Jericho is predicting a defeat because Hardy finally found a winning strategy. Even the Messiah of XPlosion cannot pinpoint, with certainty, the target of a North Carolina man's racism. That being said, the score of the game is still heavily weighted towards Jericho, or at least I would presume, thus the look of excitement. These are the thoughts that went through nobody's mind while Matt Hardy finished reading the policy statement. Matt Hardy ...Any employee that performs such actions has done so without the company's permission and/or knowledge. Christian whispers to Jericho again. Christian Then why is he doing this? Y2J knows the exact answer to Christian’s question, yet he does not respond. Jericho is too preoccupied with the situation in hand to even consider wasting a breath with the sole goal of satisfying Christian’s curiosity. Today is the day that Matt might finally be able to outsmart Chris at his own game. The humiliation that he would have to live with is unbearable, no wonder the fear of defeat is consuming him. At least that would be the case if any of this was true, if the game even exists. It’s certainly more exciting than the truth that Jericho’s ears have adapted to block most sound frequencies produced by Christian. Matt Hardy Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the real... Jericho’s eyes open widely, he has everything out. It is as if he can see the entire night unfold right before him in an instant. That, or he noticed that Alicia Fox has attended braless. Matt Hardy proceeds to take off the white sheet revealing himself dressed in classic Iron Sheik attire. Everything from the fake moustache to the 10-inch bulge between his legs. The Iron Hardy YA ALLAH! YA MOHAMMAD! YA ALI! The audience show their appreciation with a wide range of gestures, from eyerolls to facepalms. The Iron Hardy The EWE Hall of Fame is filled with jabronis. There are only two EWE legends. Only two gold medal Olympic wrestlers. Of course, on top, is the greatest in professional wrestling—The Iron Sheik! Everyone admires Iron Sheik because he is Olympic gold medallist. Even the Chris Jericho steals the Iron Sheiks Camel Clutch. Chris protests. Chris Jericho They’re different... The Iron Hardy I am the greatest wrestler. I fuck the Hulk Hogan with a cold beer and I fuck the faggot Justin Bieber with my 10-inch cock. The Iron Hardy catches himself digressing, being too absorbed in the role. The Iron Hardy But the true real that deserves to be in the EWE hall of fame is the man who got over the jabroni Kurt Angle—the other Olympic gold medallist. That man is the Matt Hardy! After five solid seconds of John Morrison being the only one applauding, the rest of the crowd joins in. Hardy takes the opportunity to remove his head gear and fake moustache, revealing what everyone already knew. Matt Hardy You might be wondering what the point of-- Hardy grunts while reaching into his bottoms. Matt Hardy --all of this was. Matt pulls out a sock from his bottoms—removing his 10-inch bulge. He tosses it and it "accidentally" hits Christian on the face. Matt Hardy I wanted to properly thank you guys for this great honor, and I figured that the best way to do so would be... A MATT HARDY SHOW! The audience haphazardly cheers. John Morrison and Christian walk away from the camera's span. Matt Hardy Unfortunately, the Iron Sheik could not make it as my guest today on the account of the late notice. And, more importantly, the absence of notice. I think I nailed the part, though. Onto the only part anyone cares about anyway. "WHEEL OF ROAST! WHEEL OF ROAST! WHEEL OF ROAST!" Matt Hardy Due to the lack of a Harditron, we brought an actual wheel! Morrison and Christian come into the frame carrying the actual Wheel of Roast. Chris Jericho This was not a two man's job. On the wheel, every section contained a picture of Jack Evans. Hardy looks at the wheel then back at the audience. Matt Hardy Now, I don’t want to go down as an unfair man. Hardy pulls a red Sharpie from his butt crack and draws a cross on one of the Jack Evans pictures. Matt Hardy If it lands on that one, I’ll roast, let's say, the Gang! Chris Jericho palms his face, presumably because he can already see where this is going. Chris Jericho I can already see where this is going. Matt spins the wheel and... IT LANDS ON THE CROSSED PICTURE! Matt Hardy GOD... Chris Jericho DAMN... Christian JESUS... Morrison doesn't say a word, but lowers his glasses dramatically. Matt Hardy Damn it, I didn't prepare for this. Now I remember why I never used an actual wheel. Oh, well... Matt adjusts the mic slightly. Matt Hardy Let’s start with Johnny. John Morrison. When I was a kid, I used to imagine what the lovechild of Ric Flair and Cruella de Vil would look like. I never thought they would actually go through with it! The first wave of laughter begins. Matt Hardy Little known fact about John: when he was starting out as a wrestler, his signature move was lowering his glasses to turn his opponents into stone. It’s not just a gimmick, it can seriously happen. Most women think of him as kinky for wearing blindfolds during sex, but in reality he does it because nobody wants to fuck a stony vagina. The crowd laughs some more. Matt Hardy Except for Christian. A little bit more laughter. Matt Hardy And that’s all I can say about Christian, the man is pretty generic otherwise. Generic name, generic skin, generic career. Christian scuffles at the last one. Matt Hardy The only non-generic thing about Christian is his below average penis. The audience laughs. Christian picks up Matt’s stuffing socks and throws them at him. Matt Hardy Now that I think about it, maybe Christian is not that generic. Yeah, he’s below average at pretty much everything. Chris taps on Christians back lightly, consoling him. Matt Hardy And then there’s Chris. He truly holds up to the title of ayatollah, chopping off the head of anyone who crosses him. Figuratively, of course. Although, he did chop off the head of that Jewish kid’s penis. No laughter. Matt Hardy Kid was already circumcised. Now the laughter resumes. Matt Hardy Seriously though, I love Chris. He is the most loyal of friends. Whatever your problem is, he has the solution. I remember when I had gained a lot of weight and was struggling to lose any. Chris was there by my side, encouraging me, pushing me, and supplying me with heroin. It really helped. The audience laughs. Hardy seems dumbfounded. Matt Hardy That wasn’t a joke. Jericho, anxious to cut the feed, ensures some music starts playing, and Christian and Morrison distract Matt, pulling him away from the podium. People start having champagne and dancing and shit, and the scene fades out. We come back to ringside, and White Goodman and Co. are still waiting for their entrance video to be edited. Michael Cole: Our sincerest apologies, ladies and gentlemen, but it seems we are not ready to begin this match just yet. White Goodman and his GloboGym Corporation are still waiting for Rob Conway to be removed from their entrance video. Matt Striker: It's a wait worth waiting. That two-timing slut does not deserve to grace the same oversized screen as White Goodman. The camera pans to the side, showing the faces of all GloboGym members as they look up at the Titantron, awaiting development. We fade into the backstage area. Weeping echoes around the corridor. It is conserved, however, and clearly an attempt is made by the weeper to keep it quiet, but the deep tone of the weeping projects it far and wide. The weeper in question: Tony Atlas. Matt Striker: Oh look, it's Tony Atlas. He sits at the back of his office, at what almost looks to be a shrine, to the one and only Nelson Frazier Jr., AKA, Big Daddy V. Pictures of the Giant Malteser in wonderful golden frames are placed neatly around the table, pictures of him in the ring and out, and a lot of them with Atlas himself. In the middle of the table, sit two EWE action figures, still in their box. It is the double set of Big Daddy V and Tony Atlas, that were sold at the time of their RPW run together. Atlas looks at it and smiles. Tony Atlas Still mint condition. Unopened. He begins to sob again. There is a knock at the door and Atlas stops suddenly, getting to his feet. Tony Atlas Come in! The door opens, and Nobody's Favourite, Dean Navarro, steps in. He looks at Atlas' face, before noticing him wipe tears away, and becomes concerned. Dean Navarro Oh, sir, are you alright? Tony Atlas I'm good, boy, yes! I was just reminiscing, that's all. Looking back over the good old days... Atlas turns back towards the shrine, and pats a Big Daddy V bobble head lightly, causing it to wobble around. He laughs his good old wheezy laugh. Tony Atlas HE HE HE HE HE! Navarro tries to join in. Dean Navarro He ha! That's funny sir. Tony Atlas It's not funny, the man's dead! Navarro goes suddenly silent. Atlas looks at him sternly. Tony Atlas What is it you want, anyway? Dean Navarro I was just checking to see if you wanted anything sir? Y'know, to help you prepare for the match tonight? Tony Atlas No, boy, I'll be alright. I've made all the preparations myself. Tonight, I will be stepping into the boots of Big Daddy V. Dean Navarro Are you definitely sure about that sir? Because you know, as I told you, I'm sure I could convince management to make the change. You don't have to wrestle as Big V. I'm sure I could have them list you in the match as just Tony Atlas. Tony Atlas I am aware, but this is something I want. Nothing will appease me more than to give my good friend a fine and proper send off, especially after everything he did for me. I have had a long and fruitful career, with highs and lows, and I still have a life ahead of me where am I able to make more. But Nelson? It was stripped from him brutally. It's not much, but I want to give that man as much as he can. As much as he deserved. Tonight, I want it to be him in that ring representing RPW, just like I know he'd want to. And it will be him. Dean Navarro Well, in a way, yes... Atlas looks at Navarro for a second, before shaking his head. Tony Atlas Boy, let me show you something. Atlas picks a small remote control up from his desk and walks over to a book case. Upon pressing a button on the remote, the book case shifts and reveals something else, something that Atlas looks at proudly, and Dean looks at with awe, as light shines onto their faces. Dean Navarro No way... Tony Atlas Yes way, boy. Yes, way. Nelson will perform again tonight. One, last, time. HE HE HE HE HE! Before we can see what was in the secret bookcase, the scene fades back to ringside. White Goodman is now pacing from side to side, annoyed that it's taking the production team so long to make a few simple edits. He picks up the previously dropped microphone and points up at the screen. White Goodman I swear to God, if that shit isn't done within the next three minutes I will go back there myself and do edit you out of LIFE! Just as he says this, the video begins playing. The audience cheers, happy to finally get the match under way. However, White Goodman does not move. It becomes apparent that he intends to sit there and watch the whole video through, to check for any Rob Conway clips. Michael Cole: This is ridiculous. Matt Striker: Your mom's ridiculous. ![]() After the video ends, Goodman turns around, as if waiting for it to play again, but it doesn't. White Goodman What, do you expect me to go down to the ring without music? The new video restarts, and the members of GloboGym finally follow their leader down to the ring. Goodman rolls into the ring and climbs the corner turnbuckles to pose with his GloboGym Championship belt. He hops back into the ring and climbs the opposite corner. Michael Cole: Is this match ever going to start? The cage starts lowering, as Goodman is making his way to the third corner. He stops in his tracks and demands the cage is hoisted back up, so that he can pose with his championship before getting locked in. Michael Cole: This is so dumb. Matt Striker: Your face is dumb. The leader of GloboGym leaps back into the ring and climbs the fourth corner, where he, once again, poses with the strap. He looks over his shoulder and sees the referee ordering to lower the cage. He hops back down and slaps the referee across the face, before stealing the microphone from Justin Roberts. White Goodman Encore! The official reluctantly orders for the cage to be pulled back up, and White poses in all four corners once again, all over. The fans seem hesitant and divided, but some of them are laughing and cheering along with Goodman's attitude. White returns to the centre of the ring, and hands his championship title belt over to Riggins, who proceeds to leave the ring with a belt over each shoulder. Kerwin White removes Goodman's robe, as the latter hops in place. Michael Cole: Finally! Matt Striker: Shut up! Show some respect, Jesus! Greg Steele uses both his hands, as he can, to put White Goodman's mouthpiece in. It's purple and, of course, has the GloboGym logo repeated all over it. Jack Jones seems to finally be getting impatient. Michael Cole: The cage is finally closing. And it does. Jack Jones and White Goodman waste no time with the ceremonious touching of the cage to make sure it's an actual cage because it's an unforgiven steel structure and all that horseshit. Instead, they stare deep into each other's eyes. Matt Striker: Here we go! White's gonna deck Jones. As soon as the bell rings, White decks Jones. Matt Striker: Told you. All jokes aside, Goodman has already struck down Jack Jones with a fierce right hook. He hops around in place, confidently. Jones, already bleeding from a busted lip, gets on one knee. KICK TO THE CHEST! RIGHT HOOK TO THE TEMPLE! JONES IS OUT! Matt Striker: WHAT?! Michael Cole: White Goodman just completely knocked out an experienced fighter! The crowd pop incredibly loud. If not out of respect or appreciation for Goodman, then out of surprise. Matt Striker: Serves you right for underestimating him. Michael Cole: Me? You were just as surprised as I am! Goodman walks around, circling Jones' out-cold body. He points at the fallen man and looks at the crowd. "This is your hero!? This is your hero!?" He places a foot on Jones' chest and gets the three-count. White Goodman defeated Jack Jones by pinfall in 0:23 minutes. Michael Cole: Even if he can still fight, which is a question to be answered, he's stripped of all of his dignity. White Goodman just ended Jack Jones' career like nobody's business. Matt Striker: Of course he did. And he'll do the same to Rob Conway. |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:14 AM Post #6 |
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Just as Striker says this, and the cage is being raised once more, Goodman grabs a camera from an operator and points it straight at his face. He spits out his mouthpiece. "YOU'RE NEXT CONWAY. YOU SEE THAT? YOU SEE THAT? YOU'RE FUCKING NEXT!" Goodman then throws the camera back to the operator, whether it breaks or not is unknown. Kerwin White rolls into the ring with a couple of golf clubs, and gives one to Goodman. Riggins and Greg Steele look on from the outside as White and White Goodman both raise their drivers up and aim them at Jones' arms. Michael Cole: OH, NOT THIS AGAIN. Matt Striker: YES, THIS AGAIN. AND THEY SWING DOWN!!! "OHH!!!" Michael Cole: NO!!! Matt Striker: YES!!! Goodman and Kerwin White proceed to stomp on Jones' probably shattered wrist bones. The pain has obviously awoken him, but he's still only half-conscious. They stomp repeatedly. Michael Cole: I don't want to work for this company, anymore. Matt Striker: HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Goodman raises his title belt on the outside after joining Riggins, who shows off his own. Their free hands are raised by Greg Steele and Kerwin White. They walk backwards up the ramp, looking at Jones' body, in the ring, as the scene fades out. A video begins to play. A man in a blue judo gi has a brutal look on his face and an even more dangerous looking armbar locked in the man they call The Ravager, Kodiak. He has no choice — when the Around the World Armbar is locked in, there are few men who can stand the pain for long. The larger man desperately taps out, unable to continue. The crowd cheers! Justin Roberts: The winner of this bout via submission...and STILL the Exodus Champion! Benjamin Breaks! The scene cuts to Breaks as he lifts the Exodus Championship over his head. He's disheveled from the bout...but victorious. Benjamin Breaks (VO) I had traveled the world as a judoka before I came to EWE. I fought some of the best judo fighters on the planet. I represented Canada on an international stage. Every tournament I took part in, every successful ippon I scored against my opponents, every time the crowd cheered for my performance...it felt good. But even though I loved judo, there was something missing. It was when I began to fight here that I realized what it was. A sequence of scenes play, highlights of Breaks' successes within the EWE ring. His victory at his first pay-per-view appearance, earning the Exodus Championship in a Tables for Everyone match at Danger Zone. Nailing a picture perfect moonsault after several failed attempts in previous weeks. Brawling with Single H in a cage, his signature submission locked in. Brawling with The Beast Incarnate Brock Lesnar, taking suplex after suplex, but locking in painful looking holds with an air of dangerous insistence. Benjamin Breaks (VO) It was a rush I hadn't felt as a judoka. I was doing things I never thought I could do, fighting opponents I never expected I would be facing. I had prepared all my life for challenges like the ones I had faced in EWE. Every bit of judo I practiced was to face off against men like Kodiak, like the Rapture, like Single H, like Brock Lesnar...and I was giving them all the fight of their lives. I wasn't just meeting those challenges...I was surpassing them. Michael Cole: Another stellar performance by the ever exciting Benjamin Breaks! Matt Striker: Oh my God, he's really gonna do it! Breaks is gonna be champion! The screen freezes on an image of Breaks following his Exodus Championship win, ripping open his gi after crashing Kodiak through the final table. Then is fades to black. Benjamin Breaks (VO) But I lost myself in it. And I lost sight of why I started in the first place. The scene fades back in, this time on some of Breaks' more brutal moments following losses to Single H and Brock Lesnar. Threats of violence, of broken limbs... Breaks' voiceover continues over the scenes of Lesnar's many, many suplexes against him, tossing him around like a rag doll. Benjamin Breaks (VO) I forgot what it was that made me so dangerous in the first place. I was confident in my skills, able to use my judo as a weapon to be the best, to prove that I was the best. It was about far more than just hurting people, making them bleed, making them scream in pain. I was no better than those sadists in the Rapture, and when it comes to raw violence, I couldn't beat the beast. Not just the one in front of me, but also the one that laid dormant inside of me. The scene fades into the present day in a tight shot on Breaks' face. He's in his trademark blue gi, the symbol of a red hawk over his right shoulder. The camera zooms out as Breaks continues speaking — behind Breaks is an extensive collection of trophies and medals, but the very center of the display is a replica of the Exodus Championship belt. It's a place of honor among honors. Benjamin Breaks It was my time as Exodus Champion that stands out the most in my run with EWE. It was a title that meant a great deal to me. I fought for myself, and I fought to grow as a competitor and judoka. I had something to prove to the world, and that title showed that I was succeeding. And even though so many of us on Monday Night Exodus had our blood feuds, in the end, we all had something to prove: that EWE was number one. We were leading that charge. While I held that championship, I was the representing Exodus, and everything that the company stood for. Let Matt Hardy and Single H fight for the World Wrestling Championship — to me, the Exodus Championship meant I was fighting on a level that was steering the show to a new level. Breaks turns around and examines the replica belt. He reaches out, brushes it with his fingers. Benjamin Breaks My time with that title is gone, I know. My time in wrestling may be nearly done, too, after my own thick-headedness put me through a pain I didn't think I could endure. But my memories remain, and it's those memories that called me back for One Night Only. I was the Exodus Champion at a time when Exodus was THE show to watch on Mondays. It was a time when EWE was everywhere, far ahead of any of its competition. Could any of the men I'm facing in this brand superiority match say the same? All of the men I'm facing are strong opponents — there's no point in pretending otherwise. But where were they when EWE mattered most? Chris Deangelo was nowhere to be found, facing off his demons someplace else. Big Daddy V was never even spoken about when Exodus was airing in my time. Kane was a sidekick to Rob Van Dam, and then nothing but a suit who had forgotten what it meant to truly fight for a purpose. Christian got caught in the whirlwind that was the Rapture and couldn't hold on to any of his past glory. If anyone was performing at their best in that time, week in and week out, it was me. I put my body on the line every single night as a matter of pride — and pride is exactly what's on the line for me tonight. Breaks raises a fist to the camera. Benjamin Breaks We were all called back here to put on the best damn show the wrestling world has ever seen. The five of us in this scramble are here to prove that our eras were the best. But when I think of EWE, I think of Exodus. I think of the Exodus Championship that I earned, that I defended, and that legitimized my judo as one of the company's greatest weapons. It's that Benjamin Breaks that will step into the ring tonight. It's that Benjamin Breaks, the one that was at the top of his game. Tonight, everyone will remember Exodus...and after the match is over, no one will ever think of Exodus again without thinking of The Judoka...Benjamin Breaks. We come back to ringside. ![]() Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a Scramble Match! The winner of this match will determine the official 2017 Supreme Brand! Tony Atlas wearing an obvious fat suit underneath the Big Daddy V attire, steps out on stage. The crowd cheer, half out of pity, half because they actually like Tony Atlas and/or the Giant Malteser, for some reason. Justin Roberts: Introducing first! Representing RPW...FAKE...BIG DADDY V! Tony Atlas struggles to get into the ring with the fat suit, but eventually manages to. The crowd pop, loudly, as the third ever EWE Hall of Famer, Christian steps out on stage. Despite having seen twice already tonight, once wrestling already, the fans seem as happy to see Captain Charisma as ever. He taps his chest and hisses his fingers before pointing at the whole audience. Justin Roberts: Representing Saturday Night XPlosion!...CHRISTIAN!! Christian walks up the steel steps and enters the ring. Matt Striker: Chris DeAngelo's next. He told me earlier he was coming out to Kenny Loggins. Thing is, he thinks he's coming out to "Danger Zone", when he's actually coming out to "Footloose". Michael Cole: What? Why? Striker starts laughing. Matt Striker: Because it's funny! Some time goes by before anyone comes out. DeAngelo finally pops out from behind the curtain, having been visibly pushed out from gorilla position. He hurries down to the ring in order to get the song to stop immediately. The fans are laughing loudly. Justin Roberts: Representing PWD, CHRIS DeANGELO! DeAngelo rolls into the ring, with obvious hopes that, just like with the two previous participants, the song will be cut short to allow the next to make his entrance. To his dismay, it doesn't. Matt Striker can't stop laughing, and even Michael Cole begrudgingly snickers. "I WAS PROMISED DANGER ZONE, GOD DAMMIT!" As an obviously pissed off Chris DeAngelo walks around in the ring, being laughed at by Christian and Tony Atlas, a PIP appears on screen featuring Kurt Angle, Randy Orton, Chris Jericho, and some other members of the EWE board of directors, laughing openly at the situation. The embarrassment doesn't stop for the PWD icon until the song genuinely comes to its end. At this point he has angrily thrown off his tanktop and deliberately delivered a few stomps and elbow drops to it. The crowd goes wild!! Benjamin Breaks runs out from backstage to one of the loudest, warmest reactions of the night. Even other, equally as popular wrestlers didn't get reactions this warm, as it has definitely been a night of mixed emotions. Justin Roberts: Representing Monday Night Exodus!...BENJAMIN! BREAKS! The Judoka high fives some fans on his way to the ring and takes a bow in its direction, at the end of the ramp, before entering. He shakes the hands of each of his opponents before posing for the crowd once more, and taking the top of his gi off. An even louder pop interrupts Benjamin Breaks' entrance, as long with the sounds of Finger Eleven and fireball pyrotechnics. Kane comes out, not in his usual suit pants, however, but in full old school masked costume, and looking as terrifying as ever. Justin Roberts: Finally, representing Wednesday Night Genesis!...THE BIG RED MONSTER! KANE! Matt Striker: I got a feeling Kane's going to kick ass, tonight. Michael Cole: I, too, can smell it in the air. With all the wrestlers in the ring, Kane throws his arms down, shooting fireballs from all four corners of the ring, and bringing the lights up to a normal shade. The song fades out and he surveys his opponents, threateningly. Michael Cole: It's like a new, old Kane. Finally, the bell rings, and the counter appears. 20:00 Benjamin Breaks, Chris DeAngelo, Christian, and Fake Big Daddy V all do the sensible thing, which is gang up and attack Kane. To mostly everyone's surprise, however, Kane appears to be much tougher than when he was last seen, which is saying something considering he nearly defeated Brock Lesnar that evening. Michael Cole: Kane is barely affected by the strength of all four of those men! Punches and kicks from front and behind barely stop Kane from doing whatever he wants and, right now, what he wants it to Chokeslam everyone. And he does exactly so! Kane clutches Christian's throat! Chokeslam From Hell, now Benjamin Breaks! Chokeslam From Hell! Finally the two heavier men in the match, he drops them both with a Double Chokeslam From Hell! Pin on DeAngelo for the three-count! 19:04 :: Kane (Genesis) has the fall :: Christian and Benjamin Breaks are the first to their feet, slowly but surely. Of course, Kane is more than ready for them. The Big Red Machine grabs Benjamin Breaks in a Military Press, and throws him out of the ring! Michael Cole: Oh, my! Matt Striker: He's back! LOW BLOW BY CHRISTIAN FROM BEHIND! "OOHHH!" Michael Cole: And it's legal! Kane already has the fall! Christian grabs Kane's wrists and turns him around! UNPRETTIER! PIN! ...1... ...2... KICKOUT! As Christian gets up, wasting no time complaining about Kane kicking out, he focuses on Chris DeAngelo, who is almost to his feet, throwing him out of the ring and right onto Benjamin Breaks, who had now made it back to his feet. Captain Charisma turns around right into a Big Boot by Fake Big Daddy V! Matt Striker: I don't think the real Big Daddy V could have raised his foot that high. Michael Cole: Absolutely not. Tony Atlas, despite old, proves to still be in decent enough shape to maybe even win this. To his dismay, however, he has to get past Kane. The latter is now standing right in front of him, towering over the heavy set heavyweight like he's a child. Michael Cole: I don't care how many years it's been, Kane is still absolutely terrifying. Tony Atlas does not back off, however, and punches Kane right in the gut with all of his might. This catches the Big Red Machine off-guard, and Tony Atlas then Irish Whips him into the ropes. In an impressive display of strength, the now sixty-two year old picks up Kane into a Military Press, drops him onto his shoulder and slams him down to the mat with a Powerslam! "OOOOHHHHHHHH!!!" Matt Striker: That was awesome! Benjamin Breaks now rushes into the ring and catches the Giant Malteser Dos off his guard with a flurry of forearms and elbows to the chest and face. He manages to get him all the way to the ropes, and tries to Irish Whip him, but Atlas stands his ground, and short-arms Breaks into a Clothesline! As soon as he falls, however, Christian appears from behind him, running at Atlas at high speed! Cross Body! Matt Striker: Holy shit! Michael Cole: Amazing ring awareness by Christian! Kane is up, once more, and grabs Christian from behind, Mat Slam! Pulls him up to a sitting position by the hair, and runs at the ring ropes. Bounces off, Running Dropkick! Chris DeAngelo grabs Kane as he's getting to his feet! VEXATION! Michael Cole: Vexation! That's his finishing manoeuvre, in case you didn't know. Matt Striker: I didn't. Michael Cole: Ye. Having fallen face-first into the mat, Kane can't even harness his magical powers to sit up, at the moment, and is very prone to being pinned. Get it? Prone? Matt Striker: That move left Kane very prone to get pinned. Michael Cole: That, it did. Matt Striker: Get it, prone? Michael Cole: Yep, I do. Christian and DeAngelo engage in a deep staredown, but seem to reach a conclusion telepathically. They both look at Kane and proceed to pick him up. They drag him to the ropes... LIFT HIM! DOUBLE SUPLEX TO THE OUTSIDE! Kane bounces off the apron back-first, very awkwardly, and falls to the floor outside. "OOOOHHHHHHHH!!!" Matt Striker: Holy fuckity fuck! Christian and DeAngelo waste no more time in truce, and begin going at each other almost spontaneously, which is the same thing Big Daddy V (Fake) and Benjamin Breaks (CAW) are doing on the other end of the ring. Both Tony Atlas and Christian think of the same thing, and they Irish Whip their opponents into the same corner! DeAngelo slams into it first, and Breaks right into him! Michael Cole: Oh! Tony Atlas sees the opportunity in this, and runs full steam at them, as if he weighs a hell of a lot more than he actually does. He slams right into Breaks and DeAngelo, then takes a few steps back. Christian with a Dropkick to the back! He sends Atlas into Breaks and DeAngelo once more! SCHOOL BOY! The fat suit keeps Atlas unable to actually kick out! Christian gets the fall! The referee holds up his hand as the bell rings. 14:48 :: Christian (XPlosion) has the fall :: From behind, Christian gets lifted up by Benjamin Breaks, and dropped down into a Back Suplex STO! Breaks turns this momentum into a quick Anaconda Vise! Christian writhes in pain, trying to find a way out, and he manages to reach the ropes close to him! Matt Striker: That could have been a very short lived fall for Christian! Breaks gets up, into a picture perfect Dropkick by the Angelo! The Judoka trips over Christian, which raises his awareness, like those smoking ads where they have the smokers pay at the kiosk with their own teeth lol people are fucked up, and actually keeps him from falling on his back. DeAngelo approaches Breaks, but the latter grabs his arm just in time and throws his leg over! AROUND-THE-WORLD ARMBAR! THE CROWD GO WILD! DeAngelo, smartly seeing no point in fighting through it, taps out as soon as he can in order to get the hold released! 13:52 :: Benjamin Breaks (Exodus) has the fall :: Benjamin Breaks gets up and, out of pity, proceeds to help up Tony Atlas, who had, until now, been writhing around on the floor like a turtle on its back. "Thank you, boy. You're a good kid." Atlas is sweating profusely and obviously gassed already, but he's still in this. Breaks nods respectfully, but gets punched in the face by the man he just helped! Michael Cole: Each man for himself! Atlas picks up Breaks for another Military Press Slam! Chop Block by DeAngelo! Atlas falls to one knee! Reverse DDT! DeAngelo gets up and eyes Benjamin Breaks getting to his feet, and runs at him for yet another Vexation! Pin for the three count! 12:36 :: Chris DeAngelo (PWD) has the fall :: Christian grabs DeAngelo from behind as the referee raises his arm in victory! Turns him around! UNPRETTIER! PIN FOR THE THREE COUNT! Bell rings once more! 12:27 :: Christian (XPlosion) has the fall :: Kane, on the outside, has still not moved. Michael Cole: I think Kane might really be out. Some EMT's actually come out to check up on the Big Red Monster, but the action in the ring continues. Christian is trying to keep all of his opponents down, so as they pose no menace to him or to each other, seeing as he doesn't need to take the fall himself in order to lose the edge. Benjamin Breaks and Fake Big Daddy V both get up at around the same time, however, leaving Christian with a conundrum. Captain Charisma opts to slither out of the ring like a little bitch. Before they notice his absence, V and Breaks are at each other's throats. Matt Striker: We know how respectfully Breaks is, but we've seen how ruthless he can be when necessary. Michael Cole: I think he crosses the line, sometimes. Matt Striker: You think that about everyone, Cole! The Judoka drops down Big Daddy V with a Judo Takedown. Atlas struggles to get off his back once again, and Breaks pityingly rolls him over with his foot before spotting Chris DeAngelo getting to his feet. He grabs DeAngelo and shoves him into the corner. He pulls him up to the top rope and then throws him off over his head with a Superslam! DeAngelo falls onto his back and Breaks climbs up the turnbuckle. Michael Cole: Oh, not this again. Matt Striker: Why's he so stubborn? He NEVER hits this! MOONSAULT! ATLAS CATCHES HIM IN MID AIR ON HIS SHOULDERS! A THUNDEROUS MILITARY PRESS SLAM! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" PIN! ...1... ...2... CHRISTIAN BREAKS THE COUNT! Captain Charisma rolls right back out of the ring after this, and Fake Big Daddy V tries sliding out, as well, but gets trapped underneath the bottom rope because of his fat suit. The crowd laughs. Michael Cole: Just get rid of that thing already, Tony! Kane, who has now shrugged off all the medical help, approaches Tony Atlas with a curious expression. He grabs him and rips him right out of the ring before throwing him into the barricade! Christian runs from the perpendicular side of the ring, hops onto the steel steps and flies into Kane's back! Sleeper Hold! Michael Cole: A Sleeper Hold on the outside! Matt Striker: Well, whatever gets Kane down! It seems to be working, as the Big Red Monster actually drops down to one knee at one point, but he powers back up, and starts ramming Christian back-first into the ring post. It becomes a battle of resilience between the Devil's Favourite Demon and Captain Charisma. Meanwhile, in the ring, Chris DeAngelo drapes an arm over a laid out Benjamin Breaks! ...1... ...2... Kickout! The fall remains Christian's. Kane's strength seems to fade away and he falls down. Christian finally lets go, only to get rammed by Fake Big Daddy V, who might as well be Fake Freight Train at this point, considering the speed and outright retardedness with which he ran at Christian. The fall-holder gets trapped between Atlas' fat suit and the ring apron. Michael Cole: The Hell was that? Atlas starts delivering fierce punches to the sides of Christian's head. Matt Striker: He's trying to give him cauliflower ear. That's fucked up. Chris DeAngelo runs at the opposite ropes from where Atlas and Christian stand, and bounces off before running at them! Baseball Slide to the back of Christian's head! "OOOOHHHHHH!!!" Atlas falls onto his back like a turtle again, with the impact, and Christian seems to be knocked completely out cold. DeAngelo rolls out of the ring and throws Christian's limp body in. Benjamin Breaks covers Captain Charisma with an arm! Atlas grabs DeAngelo's foot! "NO!!!" Three count! The bell rings. 8:22 :: Benjamin Breaks (Exodus) has the fall :: Matt Striker: Hah! Michael Cole: DeAngelo is just tormented by terrible luck tonight. Atlas uses DeAngelo's leg to flip himself over, and then starts getting to his feet, but DeAngelo hits him with a Vexation. The crowd are now cheering DeAngelo on out of pity for his shit luck. As soon as he enters the ring. Benjamin Breaks grabs his arm and puts him into the Around-The-World Armbar! Despite tapping out, DeAngelo is forced to stay in the hold by Breaks. Matt Striker: He can tap out all he likes, Breaks can't beat himself. He's safer against him if he only has one arm anyway! Michael Cole: This is a prime example of just how ruthless Benjamin Breaks can be. A gentleman outside the ring, but right now he's more than ready to snap DeAngelo's arm in half if it means bringing honor to Exodus! DeAngelo starts writhing and shouting in pain! The crowd's cheers actually eventually turn into boos, as this safe, yet belligerent and over-aggressive way of keeping the fall, from Benjamin Breaks, might just be less-than-praiseworthy in their eyes. Michael Cole: That's enough! Matt Striker: That is genius! He's taking the win to Exodus! However, Tony Atlas has made it to his feet. Now with little 5 minutes left in the match, Fake Big Daddy V tries to find a way to squeeze his fat suit into the ring. DeAngelo's arm is probably broken at this point, and Benjamin Breaks lets him go only to put his other arm into an Armbar. He notices Atlas trying to get into the ring, and applies pressure even more ruthlessly as a show of menace. Matt Striker: Jesus, Breaks. You scaring me, meng. Atlas finally decides to climb all the way to the top turnbuckle and hop into the ring. Breaks lets go of the pressure and hops to his feet, instantly running at Atlas! This catches the big man off his guard! But he shrugs it off! The Exodus and RPW representatives trade blows for a while until Atlas manages to get the upper hand, to the delight of the crowd, who are still shocked by the former prestigious and respected first ever Exodus Champion's actions. Michael Cole: The crowd are now fully behind Atlas! "LET'S GO ATLAS! LET'S GO ATLAS! LET'S GO ATLAS!" With little over two minutes left in the clock, Tony Atlas puts Benjamin Breaks into a strenuous Bearhug! The crowd cheer him on, and it's a race against the clock! Michael Cole: It's a race against the clock! Matt Striker: It's a race against the clock! It is indeed a race against the clock. Will the clock wind down to 0:00 and award Benjamin Breaks the victory, or will he pass out or tap out before it zeroes out, awarding Tony Atlas the victory? Signs of life seem to fade away from Breaks soon enough! Michael Cole: HE'S FADING! Matt Striker: HE'S FADING! HE'S FADING, INDEED! THE REFEREE RAISES HIS ARM ONCE, IT FALLS, TWICE, IT FALLS. THIRD TIME!!! ... ... ... IT FALLS! THE BELL RINGS!!! 0:19 :: Fake Big Daddy V (RPW) has the fall :: The referee raises Tony's hand... Matt Striker: HOLY FUCKITY FUCK!!! Michael Cole: THAT'S... BUT KANE APPEARS FROM BEHIND HIM! ATLAS TURNS AROUND! THROAT CLUTCH! Michael Cole: THAT'S GOTTA BE KANE! CHOKESLAM FROM HELL!!! IT CONNECTS! PIN! A RACE BETWEEN THE REFEREE AND THE CLOCK! ...1... ... ... ...2... ... ... ... ...3!!! JUST IN TIME!!! 0:02 :: Kane (Genesis) has the fall :: The bell rings, once for the fall and again for the end of the match! Kane defeated Fake Big Daddy V, Chris DeAngelo, Christian, and Benjamin Breaks in a Scramble Match in 20:00 minutes. Kane raises his arms then throws them down, and green tinted fireball pyrotechnics shoot from the four corners of the ring. Kane has won this for Genesis, but mostly for himself. Michael Cole: Kane has won this for Genesis! But mostly, he has won this for himself! Matt Striker: Fuck Genesis! Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, via Kane's victory, your 2017 Supreme Brand!...GENESIS! The crowd cheer, for both Kane and Genesis. The Big Red Monster wastes little time with celebrations, and makes his way up the ramp, not giving a single look behind, because he's not his pussy brother. Alarmingly fast. That would be just about the only way to describe the velocity in which the obnoxiously bright teal Nissan GT-R hurtles down the hill. At the wheel calmly sits a rather strange looking fellow indeed. Blinding white Nike trainers have the accelerator pedal pushed fully down to the floor of the vehicle, causing the engine to emit a sound similar to that of an elephant sodomising itself with its own trunk. As we move up the figure in control of the blue speed demon, we see that it is a familiar face, yet heavily weathered since the last time we saw it. Long blonde hair, looking slightly damp with grease, and an equally unwashed beard cover the road worn face, and all we can clearly make out is the most defining feature of all - the shit eating grin. |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:14 AM Post #7 |
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Single H Fuck ye. Yes, it is none other than former EWE tyrant, Single H. As he continues down the steep hill, he peers down his sunglasses into the horizon. The Golden Gate bridge in all of its red beauty is now visible and the sun is slowly rising behind it. Hmm, yes, a beautiful scene indeed. Well, it's about to be gone. Deal with it. Single H, without slowing the car down at all, takes a sharp left into a side road. The vehicle screeches like a woman demanding 'rights' and skids, leaving tire tracks. The Controller inexplicably shows immense driving skill, however, and manages to keep control of the steering. He pulls up at a rather run down looking block of apartments. The beauty and serenity of the scene that was just witnessed has now taken a turn for the worst. The street is somehow darker than the main road, even though it is still open air and the sun is still in the same place that it was. As Single H slams his car door shut, he peers down the street. An old member of the African American community is stood on his porch, about three blocks down. The extreme nature of his hunched back makes it so he is literally bending over at a 90 degree angle, and he has turned his hips so that he can stare at Single H, the outsider. Single H takes his glasses off, gently places them in his leather jacket pocket, and stares at the strange old man right back. The old timer, after a few minutes of this, throws up on the ground. Blood and mucus splatter across the pavement, and as he wipes his chin, he yells. Old Man Wopo WOLF After this mysterious exclamation, a white liquid, resembling a kind of watery greek yoghurt, dribbles out of the man's mouth, he turns around and re-enters his home. Single H continues to stare at the porch for a while before he is tapped on the shoulder from behind. Turning around, he is greeted by a man in a grey suit. This man has the kind of appearance where you immediately think 'you might be an alright person, but you look so annoying that if you were kidnapped and murdered, I would feel nothing'. Steve Whitby You must be the tenant! Single H takes his time to respond to this, as well as to complete the handshake that Steve is currently offering to him. Eventually, after some deep thought, he speaks. Single H Yep. Steve gives an awkward chuckle Steve Whitby Well then great! Just for legal reasons though, I am gonna just need some identification Single H sighs and reaches into his pocket. He opens up a wallet with no money inside and hands Steve his driving license. Steve looks it over and frowns. Steve Whitby Has your name always legally been 'Single H'? Single H No, not that that's any of your business, guy. Single H points at the building. Single H And I'm only staying here temporarily, till I find work. I was the EWE World Champion. Steve smiles. Steve Whitby Of course, sir! That was the very first thing you told us on the phone when you called the agency after all... The two men look at each other for a while. Steve Whitby Well the paperwork has all been signed already, all that's left is to give you this and I'll be on my way. Single H I'm not living here permanently. Steve hands Single H (That's his legal name) the key to the room, gets into his car and speeds off into the horizon, the winds billowing into his eye holes. Single H stands with the key resting in his palm for a while, just staring blankly across the street. Suddenly, one of the doors swings open, just a few buildings down. A man has been thrown through it, wearing nothing but a leopard-print bathrobe. He scrambles to his feet and begins yelling "WHORE! WHORE!" A girl of about 15 years old emerges into the doorframe, clutching a rolling pin. She screams out at the man: "I'LL SMASH YOUR HEAD IN". All of the commotion causes Old Man Wopo to dash out of his house and begin galloping around the road. His testacles are fully visible under the bathrobe that he is also wearing. Old Man Wopo SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Single H watches this for a while before turning to the door and entering. Single H Seems like an okay neighborhood... He enters and approaches the front desk, there is nobody there. After scratching his head in confusion, he decides to just go straight to his room without being officially told where it is, after all, he has been shown around it before. Just as he approaches the elevator, a thin man in a security guard uniform jumps out from around a corner. Single H jumps. Tim Tinky I'm the authority in here. Single H Jesus Christ, man, you scared the shit out of me. Tim replies before Single H has even managed to finish. Tim Tinky I like to scare new residents just to show them who's boss. Tim swings his arms, awkwardly, while looking off into the distance. Tim Tinky Intimidation tactics... You just make sure to stay in line and we wont have any problem-o's, okay? Single H laughs. Single H You look like a twig. Tim is at a loss for words at this. Single H barges his way into the elevator. Arriving at the correct floor, Single H exits the elevator and walks to his room. He unlocks the door and walks into his brand new living space. The whole place is furnished horribly. Nothing matches, nothing makes sense. If you made this room in Sims 3, your Sim would get a bad moodlet because they'd be in badly decorated surroundings and this would negatively affect their mood until you changed the way the room is decorated in build mode. But alas... Single H does not have access to build mode. Single H This is okay. Single H looks at the olive green couch with bright yellow cushions. Single H Once I buy some furniture of my own to replace this shit with, it'll be okay. Once I find work. Let's see here, there must be a local wrestling scene. Single H grabs a laptop from his backpack and begins to browse the web. Suddenly there is a knock at the door. Single H Who is it? ... Single H HEY! Single H puts down the laptop and angrily swings the door open. His bags are sitting there. Single H Oh cool... He peers down the corridor to see who could have knocked on his door and left these bags. Tim Tinky can be seen hiding behind a potted plant. Single H What the fuck, man? Tinky reveals himself and replies in a hostile manner. Tim Tinky Bad language. The two men stare each other down before Single H slowly closes the door. Single H What a dick Suddenly "Monster" by Rollins Band plays from Single H's pocket. He rolls his eyes, reaches in and answers it. Single H Who's this? No answer. All that can be heard through the device is the sound of muffled nervous laughter. Single H Hey, I don't have time for this shit, I have to unpack. Who is it? ??? Meet me at the Smuggler's Cove pirate themed bar. ... Single H What? ??? Meet me at the Smuggler's Cove Pirate themed bar. Single H Why? Who is this? I hate pirate themed bars. ??? Well I don't, and I have some information for you that you'll want to hear about. It could be your ticket out of that crappy apartment you just moved into. Single H is deeply offended by this. Single H Listen you twat. I'm only in this "crappy apartment" until I find work again. I was the greatest EWE World Wrestling Champion in his- ??? Oh I know this. I know all about you. So do me a favour, and meet me... At... The Smuggler's... Cove... Pir- Single H Pirate themed bar, yeah I get it, Jesus fucking Christ almighty. Single H hangs up, irriated. He paces around the room for a while, scratching his chin. After some deep thought, he shakes his head, grabs his bags and wheels them into the bedroom to unpack. The bedroom is equally as distasteful as the living room. Suffice to say, it would have been very trendy if the year was 1973. Single H Probably just some douchebag paparazzi trying to get me out in the open so they can take pictures of a former World Wrestling Champion. He smirks to himself and begins unpacking clothes. Single H I'll unpack and then I'll... Look up some local wrestling promotions... Ye. He continues to unpack until he comes across something sticking out of one of his jean pockets. He gives a confused look and picks it up. It is a poloroid photo of himself holding the World Wrestling Championship while pissing on Matt Hardy's locker room door. He immediately bursts into laughter. Single H I rule. He looks around at the floral wallpaper he is surrounded by. Single H At least I used to... He sits down on the lumpy bed for a while. Voices begin to play back in his head. Justin Roberts THE WORLD WRESTLING CHAMPION... SINGLE... H!!! ... ??? Pirate themed bar ... Muhammad Hassan WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE IN AFRICA YOU FOOL? ... ??? Pirate themed bar He leaps up to his feet and shouts at his own brain Single H ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT... I'll go to the god damn pirate themed bar He grabs his jacket and leaves the apartment, headed for Smuggler's Cove (Pirate themed bar) As he passes by the reception area, he notices Tim Tinky standing behind the female receptionist, resting against the wall, trying to make himself look cool. Tim Tinky So is it true about how they say about how girls are attracted to a man in uniform and all? He looks at the receptionist, expectantly. He gets absolutely no response whatsoever. Single H chuckles to himself and walks over to the desk. Single H Excuse me Tim looks on, in horror Alison Hayers Hello! How may I help you? Single H Do you know where I may find the Smuggler's Cove bar? Alison strokes her chin Alison Hayers Hmmm... Single H It's pirate themed. Immediately, Alison understands what Single H is referring to. Alison Hayers OH! Smuggler's Cove! The pirate- Single H themed bar, yes! Tim desperately tries to get in on the action. Tim Tinky -themed b- Alison Hayers Yes! You can find it at 650 Gough Street, just down the road from here. Single H Thank you very much, miss...? Alison quickly responds. Alison Hayers Ooh um- Haysah... I mean, Alison Hayers, my name is Alison. She gives an embarrassed laugh and blushes. Tim looks like he is about to explode. Single H Thank you, Alison. See you later! Alison Hayers Bye! Single H turns his smile to Tim, and converts it from a sweet, flirtatious smile, to one of mischief. Pure mischief. Tim is almost shaking. Single H looks into his eyes and smiles for a few seconds before walking out of the apartment complex. As he walks down the road towards the Smuggler's Cove pirate themed bar, he grabs his phone and makes a call back to the unrecognised number that provoked this whole excursion in the first place. It rings a few times before the voice replies again. ??? On your way? Single H Yeah... Yeah, I thought I'd come and find out what the fuck you wanted to talk to me about. I gotta know though, who are you? How will I even know who to look for when I get there? I don't like standing in bars alone, it makes me look like I have no friends. Laughter from the other end of the line. ??? Don't worry about that, when you see me, you'll know it's me that you're looking for. Single H Or you could easily just tell me what you're wearing or something so I know who to- ??? Nah. ... ??? Nah, you'll know. The phone hangs up again and Single H slides it back into his pocket in a slightly pissed off fashion. After around ten minutes of walking, Single H arrives at the destination. Smuggler's Cove pirate themed bar. Single H Well here goes nothing. He shows the bouncer his ID and walks into the bar. To his relief, the bar shows no real signs of being that pirate themed. There are some seats that are shaped like barrels, but thats about it. Single H looks around the place, searching for the person who summoned him. Single H This is dumb. Just as he is about to turn around and leave, he spots a man sitting by himself in one of the booths. The man has slicked back hair and is wearing a bright teal suit with an orange tie. They make eye contact. Single H Of course it has to be the freak. The Controller hesitantly wanders over to the booth and sits down opposite the man. ??? Welcome, Single H Single H Oh, so you're definitely the guy I was talking to on the phone, huh? How did you get my number? Who are you? The oddly dressed man chuckles to himself. ??? Questions, questions, questions. All you do is ask questions these days. What happened to the Single H that would come in here and make some kind of inappropriate wisecrack? I suppose I should introduce myself though. I'm Bint Smith. Single H just stares at the man sitting opposite him. Single H Your name is Bint... Bint Smith Motherfuckin' Smith. Correct. I'm your biggest fan! Single H seems slightly creeped out. Single H I don't care about that at all. Why did you call me here? Bint Smith It really is an honor to meet you, Single H. You know, a lot of people have said that we're kinda similar. Single H makes that PFFFTT sound that people make Single H Similar how? You ever been a World Wrestling Champion, kid? Bint frowns and takes a sip of his drink Bint Smith No... But that's the thing, Single H. I was hoping you could help me with that. Single H leans back and smirks Single H Oh, so you want me to train you? Why didn't you just say that, why all the cryptic bullshit. You could have tweeted me or something. Bint Smith Two reasons. This way is a hundred times cooler, you have to admit that... And second, you don't even have Twitter... And neither do I, cause Twitter is a piece of- Bint & Single H God damn shit. The two wrasslors laugh. Single H Maybe we have some stuff in common, after all. Bint Smith But it's not just training I want, Single H Single H Well I never even agreed to that yet, you cheeky little fuck cunt, but go on. Before Bint can respond, a waiter comes to the table dressed up as Captain Hook. Captain Hook ARRRR WE HAVIN' ANY DRINKS? The duo turn to the captain and fire back Bint & Single H FUCK OFF! Captain Hook Aww... The captain walks away with his head down. Bint Smith Like I was saying... There's a bigger reason why I called you here. I'm doing this cause I was told to by Chris Jericho. Single H recoils in horror Single H What? How does he know you? What does he want with me? Bint pulls out his phone and shows Single H a photo. ![]() Bint Smith EWE. One Night Only. Jericho figured the only way to get you on board would be to send someone who speaks your language. Me. Single H just stares at the poster in complete awe. Single H Is that Shawn fucking Michaels? Bint Smith Yep. Single H shakes his head and clicks at the Captain in a daze. Single H G-gimme a quadruple rum and coke. The captain nods and goes behind the bar. Bint Smith So what do you say? Single H Well it looks like it's already been booked without my consent. Bint Smith Pretty much, ye. Single H bashes his fist down on the table. Single H This is bullshit, man. Fuck Chris Jericho, and fuck you, you errand boy, or whatever you are. He gets lost in rage. Single H Not a chance in getting me to do this. Bint looks a little sad. Bint Smith How come? You need work, don't you? Single H points a finger into the face of the young man. Single H Don't get smart with me, boy. The captain brings the drink and gives a little pathetic bow. Captain Hook I'll put it on your buried treasure tab, sir. Bint stares daggers at the man before turning his attention back to his idol. Single H I've had some good times with Chris Jericho, don't get me wrong... He takes a large sip of the unfairly strong drink. Single H But the fact is, he's a SHIT business man. I've been screwed over by that guy one too many times. He's the reason I'm living in that piece of crap apartment. When you work for him, you don't know if you're gonna be going in to work the next week. Bint Smith But this is one night, that's it. One match. One BIG paycheck. Single H shakes his head. Single H It's a matter of principle... And why does it matter to you anyway? Bint laughs and points at the poster, specificially to HBK. Bint Smith Because I want to see my two favourite wrestlers in the world go at it. Single H looks at the poster again. Single H Y'know, Shawn's always been my favourite too. Bint Smith RIGHT! Wouldn't you like the chance to wrestle him? He's coming out of retirement for this, he's coming out of retirement to face you in the ring. Bint points his finger into Single H's chest. Bint Smith That's huge. This match is going to go down in history. The building is already sold out. Think of the sheer amount of people that are gonna buy this on pay-per-view to watch. Single H raises his eyebrows Bint Smith You have the chance to go head to head against a guy who many consider the greatest wrestler of all time, period. Throughout your entire career, you've emulated him, you've tried so hard to prove that you're just as good if not better, and now you get the opportunity to prove that once and for all...Win or lose, the money that you're gonna make from this will be enough to get you out of that apartment for the rest of your life. Single H takes another sip of his drink, saying nothing. Bint Smith I know you're better than this, Single H. This shit life you've got going on right now. You want to end your career wrestling in crappy local feds, or in a match against your role model. A match that will set you up for life. Single H downs the drink and finally cracks a smile. Single H You've got a lot of passion, Bint. I like you. Bint smiles at this like a child at Disneyland. Single H And you're absolutely right. It's time to break the Heartbreak Kid. Bint literally screams like a girl Bint Smith You're gonna kick that old fuck's ass Single H laughs at this more than he should, clearly the rum is starting to take effect. Single H Yeah! I'm gonna kick his ass straight to heaven! Bint breaks into laughter Single H And then he can... He can KISS God cause he loves God so much, right? Bint tears up and begins banging his fist on the table. Single H stands upand leaps onto the table, shouting out to the entire bar. Single H I'M GONNA CRUCIFY SHAWN MICHAELS!!! Bint fall off his chair and begins rolling around on the floor. The bouncer walks over to the two men. Bouncer You guys better settle down or I'm gonna have to throw you outta here. Single H HEY BINT, LOOK! IT'S SHAWN MICHAELS The bouncer raises an eyebrow. Single H gets in his face. Single H Listen, SHAWN. You think you're better than me? I'm tired of everyone saying you're the best wrestler who ever lived. You're just nothing but a christian cunt Single H takes a step back and tries to hit a Superkick but he is too nogged. He stumbles over and crashes through a bar stool. Bouncer Okay, that's it. The bouncer goes to grab Single H but Bint saves the day, hitting an actually successful Superkick. Bint Smith We gotta get out of here! He drags Single H up to his feet as more security appear from the fire exit. Bint Smith Run! The two men run out of the Smuggler's Cove pirate themed bar as Single H continues to yell at the bouncer Single H WHAT DID THE ANIMALS EVER DO TO YOU, SHAWN? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SHOOT THEM? Fast forward about half an hour, Single H has sobered up and the two men are standing on the Golden Gate Bridge. The moon shines over the water as they stand there, looking into the distance. Bint Smith There's just one thing left to do, and that's to make it official. He pulls out a contract and a pen. Single H signs. Single H If this doesn't go as well for me as you've said it will, I'm going to throw you over this bridge. I'll do it at night, nobody will see me, nobody will know it was me. I'll make it look like suicide. Bint laughs. Single H I'm serious. Despite saying this, Single H also chuckles. Single H I gotta say I'm kinda nervous. I mean, this is a guy that I grew up watching on TV. He's the guy that got me into wrestling in the first place. I wanted to be a part of DX. I wanted to desecrate the Canadian flag in front of a sold out Canadian crowd. I didn't want to be best friends with Triple H, though... I've met him and the guy is a total dick... But yeah. It's just going to be a weird experience. Bint Smith You're getting the chance to do something that I know a hell of a lot of wrestlers would kill to do. Single H grabs a stone and throws it into the water beneath them. Single H Yep. I'm the shit. Bint laughs. Single H But you know... Thinking about it, I kinda feel like if the time comes for me to end it, the match I mean, I won't be able to. Bint frowns. Bint Smith Wat Single H I mean lets face it, the guy is getting pretty old now. This is bound to be his last ever match. I'm freaked out that maybe when I have him right where I want him, and I have the chance to end it, I'll choke. I don't know if I wanna be the guy that puts the final nail in the coffin of his career. Bint looks confused at this. Bint Smith But back at the bar you were saying how you wanted to crucify him. Single H Yeah, I know, I know... That's the thing. Everyone else I've faced in that company, I've been able to humiliate them completely and not care a single bit. I basically ruined Matt Hardy's life and I feel no guilt about that whatsoever. I think there's something deeply wrong with me in that sense. Bint nods. Bint Smith Ye, probs Single H Right. But with Shawn Michaels, it's just different. I have... Emotion. I honestly don't think I could be comfortable fucking with the guy. Single H looks down. Single H And if I can't fuck with him, who am I? Bint looks concerned as he lights a cigarette. Bint Smith Guess we'll find that out, wont we? Single H Guess we will. The two stare off into the horizon again. Single H So I take it you're wrestling in this show too, huh? Bint takes a drag and smiles Bint Smith Yep. Teaming with this guy against every other EWE team in a Tables for Every Team match. Single H guffaws and points directly into the face of Bint. Single H You're FUCKED. Bint just nods, solemnly. Single H Anyway, I should head back. Bint Smith Yeah, me too. You want to train together tomorrow? Single H Gay. At this, Single H immediately hails a cab, gets inside and speeds away. Bint smiles to himself, finishes his cigarette and begins to stroll home. Arriving back at his apartment, Single H walks back through reception and is confronted by none other than Tim Tinky himself. Tim Tinky I've got my eye on you, you'd better not try anything with Alison or I'll have to resort to drastic measures. Single H I'll keep it in mind, pal. Single H smiles all the way to his room. He enters and the apartment doesn't seem as bad now that there are big things coming in the future. He goes to the bedroom and sees a little sticky note on his bedside table. He picks it up and reads it. It is a phone number, and it is signed by Alison. Single H climbs into bed with the biggest shit eating grin of all on his face. As he rests his head down on the rather uncomfortable pillow, there really is just one thing left to say. Single H Fuck ye. We go back to ringside. ![]() Markus Alice slowly emerges from the curtain. He looks like Markus Alice. Michael Cole: Markus Alice. Matt Striker: Markus Alice has arrived. Markus Alice looks around, he has a face like a disappointed boy. He is clearly miserable and feeling edgy. He makes his way down to the ring and climbs inside. That's pretty much all you need to know about this entrance. Michael Cole: He's getting the opportunity of a lifetime here tonight Matt Striker: Yep, I wonder if he'll let the pressure get to him Markus patiently waits in the ring, the lights suddenly turn off and the crowd excitedly cheer. The electricity in the building is palpable. Blackout appears on stage, the World Wrestling Championship around his waist. Michael Cole: When I think of EWE, the image of Blackout standing on that stage will always be the first thing that enters my mind. Matt Striker: Tonight is his last stand. Will he go out as the champion or will Markus Alice take a big fat wet sloppy shit all over his legacy? Blackout slowly walks down the ramp, but not as slow as Undertaker, don't worry. Flame pyrotechnics rise from the stage. The camera cuts to Alice, crouched down int he ring and wringing his hands together, anxiously. Blackout does not hurry to the ring though, he seemingly takes a certain pleasure in making the most of his last walk down to the ring in EWE. The fans cheer, yet most of the people in the front rows look to be in visible awe. Blackout enters the ring and removes his coat, handing the World Wrestling Championship to the referee. The music dies down and the lights turn back up. Michael Cole: The atmosphere in the building right now is like nothing I've felt before! Matt Striker: We're about to witness Blackout's final masterpiece! Justin Roberts: The following contest is set for one fall, and it is for the WORLD WRESTLING CHAMPIONSHIP! The voice of Justin Roberts INCREASES in volume LOUDLY as he EXCLAIMS this. The fans go crazy in a non literal sense. The two competitors stand in their respective corners, staring each other out. Justin Roberts: Introducing first, the challenger... MARKUS... ALICE! The fans boo. Alice doesn't seem to care at all, not reacting to the negativity in any way. [colo=goldJustin Roberts: And his opponent, weighing in at 215 pounds, he is the World Wrestling Champion... THE DARK ARTIST!... BLACKOUT!!![/color] Huge cheers now. The referee holds up the prestigious World Wrestling Championship for everyone in the arena to see and then hands it to the guy who sits at ringside and holds on to the titles. Michael Cole: I've gotta say, I can't wait for that bell to ring. Matt Striker: To be honest, same. And the bell does ring, much to the delight of Michael Cole. The fans cheer as Blackout runs at Markus Alice, hits him in the face and knocks him out. He goes for the cover... ...1... ...2... ...3!!! Blackout defeated Markus Alice by pinfall in 00:07 minutes The bell rings. The fans kinda cheer but there is a sense in the arena that everyone has wrestling blue balls. Matt Striker: Oh. Michael Cole: Well. Markus Alice is rolled out of the ring by medical personnel as Blackout is handed the World Wrestling Championship. Confetti rains down from the ceiling as Blackout stands in the ring, the championship title on his shoulder. Justin Roberts: Here is your winner and still the World Wrestling Champion... BLACKOUT! Matt Striker: That was shit Michael Cole: Not quite the epic send off that anyone in this building was expecting I think, Blackout included Blackout grabs a microphone and signals for the music to be cut. The fans go silent. BLACKOUT That... Was not quite- A big pop now. Blackout turns to the stage, looking perplexed, with a half-smile. Matt Striker: IT'S MIZ! Michael Cole: WHAT'S HE DOING OUT HERE? Miz walks out onto the stage with a frown. He twirls the mic in his hand as the music dies down. The Miz Well, well, well... Miz begins to make his way down to the ring. The Miz I had a sneaky suspicion that this is the way tonight would go down. I knew that the almighty Blackout would be fed some chump just so he can go out on top, and with the World Wrestling Championship still around your waist no less. This wasn't a match, and everyone here knows it. This was just a formality, a send-off. Miz climbs into the ring and stands toe to toe with Blackout. The Miz Well, I think that's a joke, and what's more... And I think you agree with me. You started your EWE career with me, Blackout. You were EWE Tag Team Champion alongside me within three or four weeks of your very début, remember? Well what do you say to this. Win or lose, that title won't be yours past tonight, and I am yet to receive my opportunity after winning the 2013 Total Anarchy match. I think it's only fair that you end your prestigious career with a title match worth wrestling, don't you? The fans cheer this prospect. Blackout looks at Miz for a while, then to his title, then back to Miz. Without saying a word, he lays the belt down on the ground between their feet and signals for the bell. Michael Cole: OH, MY! A huge pop now. Justin Roberts climbs into the ring. Justin Roberts: Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been informed that this match will now restart, with THE MIZ as challenger! The referee picks up the championship and once again holds it up for all to see. Michael Cole:: So I guess this is gonna happen Matt Striker: I'M SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW! The bell rings and we see Blackout and Miz staring each other out from opposite corners of the ring. After some time, they both move to the center and begin to circle each other. Blackout goes to lock up with the Awesome One, but Miz has no time for that kind of thing these days, he's a busy man. He hits a gut kick followed by a strike to the face before grabbing Blackout and throwing him through the middle rope. Michael Cole: It goes without saying that Miz will be looking to put an asterisk on the career of Blackout here tonight. Matt Striker: He's just flat out trying to humiliate the champ, it's great! Blackout quickly gets back up to his feet but Miz is right there, Shoulder Thrusting him into the barricade before hitting a huge elbow to the back of the Artist's head. Blackout slumps down into the corner of the barricade and Miz begins to stomp away at him. The fans boo at this, as the referee begins to count. Miz picks Blackout back up and launches him into the opposite corner head-first. Matt Striker: Blackout's really in trouble here Michael Cole: Yeah, Miz has really taken him by surprise here, Blackout hasn't been able to get a hit in! Miz rolls Blackout back into the ring and taunts with a huge grin on his face. The fans jeer at him, as Blackout manages to pull himself back up to a standing position. Blackout runs at Miz and shoves him into the turnbuckle. The Filmstar pushes back, but Blackout runs at him and hits a Big Boot to the face, sending Miz down into a slumped position. Blackout runs to the opposite corner, and then sprints across the ring and hits another boot to the head of Miz who now lays, half in the ring and half out. Michael Cole: Blackout getting his foot back in the door here, those were some nasty kicks Matt Striker: He could have killed Miz! How come nobody ever gets brain damage from those kicks to the head anyway? Blackout drags Miz back into the ring, who squirms his way away from Blackout's clutches. Blackout does not let up and grabs Miz again, pulling him back to a standing position and hitting a Clothesline. Miz falls, and Blackout picks him back up again. Another Clothesline! Miz grabs at his face, but Blackout is not done. He lifts Miz back up a third time, and whips him into the corner. Blackout runs at him and attempts to his a Stinger Splash, but Miz drops down and rolls to the center of the ring. Blackout collides with the turnbuckles and stumbles back into a Neckbreaker by Miz. He goes for a quick cover... ...1... ...2...Kickout! Blackout gets the shoulder up but Miz does not let go, lifting him back to his feet and hitting a few shots to the face. Blackout stumbles to the ropes and Miz goes for a Clothesline but Blackout pulls down the top rope, sending Miz over and out of the ring. The crowd cheer as Blackout looks around before running the ropes and leaping straight over the top rope, into Miz. The two fall into the announce table and the fans cheer loudly. Matt Striker: OH SHIT! Michael Cole: Probably the last time we'll ever see Blackout pull out a move like that! Miz is out of it, and Blackout too. Eventually, the Dark Artist manages to get up and drags Miz over to the steel steps. The ref begins counting them two fellers out. Miz lays across the steel steps and Blackout runs, hitting a Running Dropkick, forcing the steel into Miz. Again, the fans cheer. Miz lays flat out on the outside concrete. Michael Cole: Now we're seeing some classic Blackout ultraviolence! Matt Striker: It's uncalled for, and I think Miz deserves better... But it's so fun to watch... Blackout picks Miz up and throws him into the ring before entering it himself, at the count of six. He stands in the corner of the ring, waiting for Miz to get to his knees. The fans cheer in anticipation, knowing what is about to happen. Michael Cole: It looks like he's going for the Artist's Touch here! Matt Striker: Yeah, it does look that way, doesn't it? Miz groggily gets on his hands and knees, Blackout runs at him and goes for the devastating Curb Stomp, but it appears that the Awesome One knew it was coming. Miz rolls out of the way and Blackout lands awkawardly on one foot. It buckles and he falls to one knee. Miz runs the ropes and hits a Running Knee to the side of Blackout's head. Blackout falls down and again, Miz goes for the cover... ...1... ...2... ...KICKOUT Michael Cole: That was so close! Blackout is not gonna give up the World Wrestling Championship that easily! Edited by Admin, Jan 8 2017, 08:16 AM.
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:15 AM Post #8 |
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Matt Striker: He's just being selfish if you ask me. Miz picks Blackout back up and whips him into the turnbuckle. He runs and hits the Clothesline in the corner thing where his feet go through the ropes and he hangs there for a bit, you know that move that Miz does, yeah, you know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah you do, remember? That move? The Clothesline thing. Blackout flops down and Miz grabs him in a Boston Crab. Blackout yells out and attempts to crawl to the ropes, but Miz just isn't having any of that nonsense at this time, he is fully intent on making Blackout tap the ring three times which, as wrestling fans, we all understand would indicate a submission and would win Miz the match! Matt Striker: Blackout's really in trouble now! Michael Cole: Miz has that Boston Crab locked in tight! He could be closing in on stealing away that last moment of glory for the Icon! Blackout manages to roll out of the hold, but Miz does not let go, transitioning straight into a Figure-Four Leg Lock! Blackout looks to be in even more pain now as he writhes around on the mat. His facepaint has smudged significantly, and we see the pain in his eyes. Miz yells out at the World Wrestling Champion: "JUST TAP OUT!!!" But Blackout is not willing to give in. He continues to edge towards the ropes. When he is within range of grabbing the ropes and forcing a break, Miz quickly releases the hold and attempts to drag Blackout back to the center of the ring, but he is not able to maintain a grip on Blackout's ankle while doing this, and Blackout manages to slip free. He hobbles up to his feet, clearly damaged from the amount of time locked in such a deadly submission hold, but still manages to limp towards Miz and hit a shot to the face. Miz retaliates with a shot of his own, the fans boo. Blackout hits Miz, the fans cheer. They go back and forth like this a few times before Miz hits a gut kick and tries to go for a DDT. Blackout spins out of it and lifts Miz up into a Suplex position before bringing him down with across his knee. Michael Cole: Backbreaker! Matt Striker: How is Miz going to star in The Marine 168 with a broken back? Miz lays in the center of the ring clutching his back as Blackout exits to the apron. The fans cheer as he ascends to the top rope. Blackout stands on the top turnbuckle for a little while, staring down at Miz before looking around at the EWE audience all stood on their feet and cheering him on. He looks back down to Miz before leaping with a huge Macho Man style Elbow Drop. "THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!" Blackout gets back up to his feet, the adrenaline is clearly pumping. Miz tries to get up but he is met with Blackout's boot. The Artist's Touch! Miz's face is forced into the mat with the force of all of Blackout's weight. Matt Striker: OH MAN, I haven't seen a Curb Stomp like that since... Since.. Michael Cole: Since What? Matt Striker: Oh, nothing... Blackout rolls Miz over and goes for the cover, the fans count along with the referee like the mindless drones that they truly are... ...1... ...2... ...KICKOUT! A huge pop as Miz gets his shoulder up and Blackout looks down, shocked. [Michael Cole: MIZ KICKS OUT! Matt Striker: How did he do that? "THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME! THIS IS AWESOME!" Blackout does not waste time, he knows how quickly things could shift to be in Miz's favour after all, he's seen plenty of matches before. Plenty. Of matches. He picks Miz back up to his feet and goes to grab him for another move but Miz manages to counter with a kick to the inner thigh. Miz, still holding his face from when it was forced into the mat at such a high velocity, goes behind Blackout and grabs him in a Full Nelson! Matt Striker: He's going for Skull Crushing Fi- Blackout spins out of the move and pushes Miz into the ropes. Michael Cole: Nope! Miz rebounds from the ropes and is met with a Dropkick from Blackout. Miz quickly gets back to his feet and is whipped into the turbuckle. Blackout follows, not letting Miz get any kind of distance. He hits a few shots to the face and then lifts Miz up into a sitting position on the top rope. Blackout attempts to climb to the middle rope in a bid to hit a Superplex or a move of that nature (we don't know yet, cause he hasn't actually done it yet, he's just climbing up to the middle rope so the specific move that he's actually planning on doing up there is up for speculation at the present time but like I said, the likelihood is that it'll be a Superplex but honestly, its impossible to tell, there are a lot of moves that can be done from that position so I don't know, to be honest with you right now) Miz, however, kicks Blackout away. He looks to go for an Axe Handle but Blackout dashes back to his feet and hits another shot to the midsection of Miz. He now successfully climbs up to the middle rope to meet Miz, but he is again thwarted. Miz hits an eye poke! Michael Cole: This is just going back and forth, neither of these two men can get the upper hand in this exchange! Matt Striker: What are you talking about, Cole, you invalid? Miz just got the upper hand Miz turns Blackout around and adjusts position ready for a Skull Crushing Finale from the top rope! Michael Cole: Oh my! This could be lethal! Just when it appears Miz is going to jump, Blackout wriggles free and ducks down, launching Miz in a somersault over him. Miz crashlands in the ring and tries to get up but he is met with a boot from Blackout. Artist's Touch from the top rope! Some of the fans are seen wincing at this gruseome display. Matt Striker: OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK!? Michael Cole: I'm amazed that Miz's head wasn't just caved in from the impact of that move... That'll do it. Blackout goes for another cover on the now bleeding and unconscious Miz... ...1... ...2... ...3!!! The bell rings. The fans cheer as Blackout gets up to one knee, staring at Miz. Blackout defeated The Miz by pinfall in 15:37 minutes Justin Roberts: Here is your winner and STILL the World Wrestling Champion... BLACKOUT! Blackout raises his Championship title belt one last time, before handing it over, back to the referee. He gets on one knee and helps up his former Rapture team-mate. After a quick, exhausted staredown, the two men share an embrace and raise each other's hand, to the crowd's absolute delight! "THANK YOU BLACKOUT! THANK YOU BLACKOUT! THANK YOU BLACKOUT!" Michael Cole: Leave the memories alone, Matt. Matt Striker: Yes, leave the memories alone. The camera pans around the arena, showing numerous fans clapping, chanting, and crying. The commentators definitely in tears. Most of the EWE roster comes out in bulk, wearing Blackout t-shirts, and giving a collective applause as confetti rains. Sheamus, Rob Van Dam, Edge, Barrett & Galloway and Markus Alice all get to the ring to give their friend one big, gay hug. The scene fades in to a court of law. There's a judge that looks like a bit of a dickhead, sitting behind the wood thing on the judge seat thingy. For fuck's sake, you people know what courts look like, stop bugging me. On the lawyer table thing places sit Chris Jericho and his attorney, Jordan Blackworth, and behind the other one sit Stevie Richards and Kodiak, wearing a loose tie and some...suit? I'm not sure. Judge Judson All rise. People rise n' shit. Judge Judson We're gathered here today to settle the terms of Jericho versus Ak in a court of law. Chris Jericho Wait... Ak? The judge seems surprised if a little bit offended by Jericho's sudden interruption. Judge Judson Yes? Jericho looks confused. Blackworth whispers something into his ear, and then he looks absolutely flabbergasted, and stares daggers into Kodiak, shocked. Chris Jericho Your name is Cody Ak?! Kodiak has a surprised look on his face. Kodiak I'm surprised you didn't know that. I've never hid it... In fact, I was always just confused why people called me by my full name. The shock. The intrigue! Chris Jericho just shakes his head, kind of like in the way you would when you find out your husband who's been cheating on you for ages is doing so with your sister. You know. Like you do. Judge Judson You may sit. People sit. N' stuff. Judge Judson You may proceed, Dr. Blackworth. Jordan Blackworth steps in front of the court. Jordan Blackworth We're here to put a stop to the shenanigans that have ensued since early 2015, fuelling the dispute between Mr. Christopher Irvine "Jericho", and Mr. Cody Ak. Kodiak raises a finger. Kodiak ...Actually. It's Dr. Cody Ak. Jericho stands up, abruptly, slamming his hands on the table, as another piece of uknown information just becomes clear. Judson hits the gavel. Judge Judson ORDER! Jericho sits down, slowly, still agog. Kodiak shrugs. Kodiak I wanted to seem smart so I decided to get a doctorate in something easy, so i chose women's studies. Chris Jericho stands up again, rampantly. Chris Jericho THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS WOMEN'S STUDIES YOU SON OF A B-- The gavel is slammed down once more. Judge Judson I SAID, ORDER! Chris Jericho sits down begrudgingly. Judge Judson puts a pair of glasses on and looks through a stack of papers. Judge Judson I see both sides have prepared opening statements, Dr. Ak's side will go first and Mr. Irving's side will go first for the closing remarks. Stevie Richards stands up in his best $20 suit and makes his way towards the center of the room. Stevie Richards My client and dear friend Cody Ak has been wronged so much in his lifetime. He was born without parents and lived in the woods for most of his life. Then when for some reason he joined a professional wrestling company, he had a chance to lead a normal life. He learned to read, how to dress, how to fight and most importantly... Stevie squints and looks closer at the paper he is reading from. Stevie Richards Love... He looks over at Kodiak, who gives him a big thumbs up. Stevie Richards He then achieved one of his first goals in life by wining the Exodus Championship on numerous occasions. Where we are today starts when Mr. Irving caused Mr. Ak to lose to the little weasel who if I ever get my hands on him I will rip his spine from his body, Jeff Hardy... Stevie gives Kodiak a 'wtf' face and Kodiak responds with another big thumbs up. Stevie Richards When Stephanie McMahon, Mr. Ak's half-sister stepped away for the company, Vincent Kennedy McMahon bought the company and gave majority ownership to his son, Mr. Ak. Why should Mr. Irving, who already caused my client so much hardship in his short, normally functioning in society life, cause him a-- Jordan Blackworth OBJECTION!!! These subjective remarks will not do, your honour. Judge Judson Sustained. Jordan Blackworth Chris Jericho was not only the founder of this company, he was also, and is, a minority stakeholder in it. The contents of the All or Nothing briefcase he was rightfully awarded promised him any wish he could have granted by the company. There is no clause in that contract that states that it should be overruled if the ownership of the company changes hands. If Christopher Keith Irvine chooses to use this contract to take back majority ownership of Extreme Wrestling Empire, there are no contractual obligations or rules that can stop him from doing just that. Christopher Keith Irvine is, from the moment he signed the contract in June 2015, effectively the majority owner and chairman of this wrestling promotion. Blackworth approaches the opposition's desk. Jordan Blackworth I wish to call Dr. Cody Ak to the stand. Kodiak stands and clears off his table. He walks around the table as if he is heading to the bench and then grabs Blackworth. He puts Blackworth on his shoulders and gives him a Deforester through the table. Kodiak gets up and then sits on the stand. Jericho screams in disbelief. Chris Jericho HOW THE HELL IS THAT ALLOWED? Judge Judson shrugs. Judge Judson Sustained. Kodiak Is anyone gonna ask me anything? Chris Jericho What the f-- Judge Judson ORDER! Chris Jericho starts flailing his arms around, like a frustrated child dying to say something, but knowing that saying it will do nothing but get him in further trouble. He sits back down, pouting, his arms crossed. After a few seconds of silence, Jericho decides to take matters into his own hands. Chris Jericho KODIAK, GET YOUR ASS TO THE STAND YOU FAT FUCK. Stevie Richards stands up abruptly, and points at Jericho, as if about to scream "Objection!". However, his voice seems to fail him. He clutches at his own neck, and it becomes apparent that he is, indeed, going to need that twenty-seventh throat surgery, at this point. Kodiak gets up and gets to the stand. Jericho paces in front of him, back and forth. It seems obvious that Y2J didn't actually have a question prepared. Chris Jericho IS OR IS YOUR NAME NOT KODIAK? Kodiak It is, Cody Ak. Chris Jericho Is it Kodiak, or Cody Ak? Jericho says this in a completely indistiguishable manner. You're reading this, so it's easy for you. But picture those people without the privilege you have. Cunt. They can't read what Jericho asks, so they don't know whether he said "Kodiak, or Cody Ak", "Cody Ak, or Kodiak" or even, maybe "Kodiak, or Kodiak". Check your privilege you white cisgender prick. Kodiak I am Cody "Kodiak" Ak. Chris Jericho You're what, now? Kodiak I am Cody Ak. In an obvious move to try and catch Kodiak off his game, Jerihco blurts out, quite quickly: Chris Jericho Did you or did you not have sexual intercourse with that young intern? Kodiak turns to the judge Kodiak Isn't this leading the witness? Judge Judson nods. Judge Judson Mr. Irving, please keep the questions relevant. Jericho is now visibly sweating Chris Jericho WHAT'S YOUR REAL NAME!? Kodiak YOU WANT AN ANSWER? Chris Jericho I WANT THE TRUTH! Kodiak YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!! There's a silent second. Kodiak Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Chris Jericho? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for EWE, and you curse my name. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know -- that my taking majority ownership, while tragic, probably saved jobs; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves jobs. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me to run the company -- you need me to run the company. Kodiak pauses. Jericho wonders what the fuck is going on. Kodiak We use words like "Ownership", "Championship", "Respect". We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the work that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather that you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up your things and walk away. Either way, I don't give a DAMN what you think you're entitled to. Chris Jericho Did you order the code red? Kodiak is completely oblivous to what he's being asked. Kodiak Like the mountain dew? Chris Jericho DID YOU ORDER THE CODE RED!? Kodiak No, I didn't order a mountain dew. Judge Judson angrily slams his gavel. Judge Judson YOU TWO ARE MAKING A MOCKERY OF THIS COURT! Jericho and Kodiak both look at Judson, nonchalantly. They've both been to jail at least once. Judge Judson There's only one way to settle this, in my view. The camera dramatically zooms in on Judge Judson as he stares right into it, breaking the fourth wall. Judge Judson I SENTENCE YOU TWO...TO A LADDER MATCH! He slams the gavel and we can hear the crowd cheering as the scene slowly fades back to ringside. ![]() Justin Roberts: The following ladder match is for the OWNERSHIP OF EWE! 50% of the fans cheer, 49% go "OOOOOOOH". 1% does nothing cause they're a miserable piece of shit. Boos now as Kodiak makes his way out of the curtain. He looks around at the audience and smirks before punching his fist and striding down to the ring, confidently. Michael Cole: And the stakes have perhaps never been higher in EWE history. This one decides who owns Extreme Wrestling Empire. Matt Striker: If Jericho wins, he keeps his life's work and a huge source of income. If Kodiak wins, he gets to defecate all over Jericho's legacy, and get paid royalties to do it! Justin Roberts: Introducing first, from The Great North, weighing in at 293 pounds... KODIAK! Kodiak climbs through the middle rope and jogs around the ring, a look of intensity on his face. He turns to face the entrance ramp and menacingly strokes his beard. The crowd erupts into cheers now as the King of EWE himself, Chris Jericho is illuminated with his arms outstretched. He turns around and does the Jericho pump taunt thing as the fans go crazy. Justin Roberts: And his opponent, from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, weighing in at 227 pounds... Y2J... CHRIS... JERICHO! Jericho ignores all hands stretched out to high five him, as he approaches the ring. He leaps up onto the apron and swings round in classic Jericho style. Michael Cole: Chris Jericho looking confident as ever here in what could be considered the most important match of his whole career. Matt Striker: You're not wrong, Maggle Cole. This is bigger than any title match. You lose a championship shot and life goes on, you can go for it again. You lose your entire business and that's a whole different story! Jericho climbs into the ring and ascends the turnbuckle, getting the fans even more hyped than they were before, and to be perfectly honest with you for just a second, they were already pretty darn hyped already. Y2J jumps back down and comes face to face with his opponent - The Ravager, Kodiak. The camera pans up to show a contract hanging high above the ring, and we then fade into some shots of the various ladders that are placed around the ringside area. Matt Striker: Man, I love ladder matches so God damn much. Michael Cole: They always guarantee high octane excitement, that much I've learned over my years as a broadcast journalist. But they can also be extremely dangerous and borderline career threatening for the combatants involved in them! The two competitors stare each other down in the middle of the ring for a while before the referee calls for the bell and then gets the hell out of the ring, dashes to the timekeepers area and lays face down. Michael Cole: Here we go! Immediately, Kodiak runs at Jericho and shoves him into the corner. Jericho yells out as he tries to escape, but Kodiak continues to push him into the corner, squashing him. Jericho kicks out and connects with Kodiak's knee, forcing the Ravager to take a pace back. This gives Jericho the chance to pull himself up to the middle turnbuckle and launch himself down at Kodiak with a Diving Axe Handle! Kodiak falls to the ground and Jericho wastes no time rolling out of the ring and grabbing a ladder. He slides it into the ring and is about to slide in himself when Kodiak bounces off the ropes and hits a Baseball Slide on the ladder, sending it straight into Jericho's chinny chin chin. Jericho shoots back into the announce table. Matt Striker: OOHH, Chris is gonna be eating soup for the next few months! Michael Cole: Didn't take long for this match to take a turn for the extreme. Kodiak rolls out of the ring and grabs Jericho by the back of the neck. His facial expression remains completely neutral as he launches The Ayatollah into the steel steps with all of his might. The sound of flesh on steel is enough to put you off your lunch as Jericho awkwardly bounces off the steps. Kodiak stands there, admiring his handiwork before grabbing the ladder and following Jericho with it. The fans all boo and hurl obscenities at The Ravager as he stalks his prey, before swinging the ladder up above his head and then bringing it down across the back of Chris Jericho! Jericho shouts out in pain, causing Kodiak to finally break a little smile. Michael Cole: And thus far, its been all Kodiak. Matt Striker: Yeah, great strategy on the part of Kodiak here. He's making sure to injure Jericho on the outside of the ring, where he can't stop him from climbing that ladder and taking ownership of this entire company. Jericho attempts to crawl away, holding his back, but Kodiak is just having none of that tbh. He picks Jericho back to his feet and lifts the helpless Y2J onto his shoulders. Just as he is about to hit a Samoan Drop on the hard outside ring area, Jericho manages to slip free and hit a DDT. Being a veteran of the ring, Jericho wastes no time, grabbing a ladder and waiting for Kodiak to get up. Kodiak raises himself to one knee, still in a slight daze from where his face was driven into the concrete. Before he able to come back to, Jericho runs at him and drives the unforgiving steel ladder straight into his face. Jericho hits him with such momentum that he struggles to stop himself and carries on running for a bit. Michael Cole: Holy moly, that was one hell of a shot to the face! Matt Striker: Out of context quotes with Michael Cole! Jericho eventually manages to stop himself and slides the ladder into the ring. He gets into the ring and begins to set it up, but he is thwarted by Kodiak who slides into the ring himself and goes for Clothesline. Jericho ducks it and runs the ropes, coming back with a Cross Body! But Kodiak manages to catch him in mid-air and swings him into the upright ladder, causing a huge kerfuffle and everything falls down. There is now a scrambled mess of Kodiak, Jericho and the ladder laying in the center of the ring. Kodiak scrambles back to his feet and drags Jericho up. He picks him up and sets up a Package Piledriver. Jericho slips free like a slippery snake and hits a General Sweep on the legs of Kodiak who falls down onto his back. Jericho drags the ladder over Kodiak and ascends to the top rope. After looking around at the cheering fans for a few seconds, Jericho leaps, hitting a huge Elbow Drop onto the ladder that is resting across Kodiak. The fans go wild. Matt Striker: OH SHIT Michael Cole: That definitely hurt both men there! A suicide mission from Y2J Jericho rolls to the edge of the ring, clutching at his elbow. Kodiak rolls over, wincing in pain. Eventually, Jericho manages to get up, and groggily walks over to the ladder, setting it up. The crowd continue to cheer, encouraging Chris to climb the ladder. Chris takes a while to set the ladder up in the middle of the ring. He manages it and begins to climb. Michael Cole: This could be the end of the match right here! Matt Striker: He's climbing too damn slow, though. Jericho's elbow is in a bad way, and this is evident from watching him struggle to climb the ladder. He makes it about halfway before Kodiak wakes up and launches his entire body into the ladder. He doesn't do any kind of wrestling move, just literally cannonballs himself into the ladder. The impact of this causes it to topple over, and Jericho falls to the ropes. He bounces off them awkwardly and is caught on the rebound by Kodiak who lifts him up into a Chokeslam. Kodiak hits this move so hard that Jericho hits the mat on his back and rolls backwards out of the ring like something out of a cartoon that little kids watch. Jericho lifts himself up using the announce table as an aid. Matt Striker: Hey, get your dirty hands off my damn table. Michael Cole: It might be too late already, look at Kodiak! "THIS IS MY TABLE, STRIKER! MY COMPANY!!" Kodiak has climbed halfway up the ladder by now. He is about to reach for the contract when Jericho slides in and hits a Dropkick to the middle of the ladder, causing it to fold up and topple over. Kodiak has prepared for this though, as he has already leapt from the ladder. Jericho realises this as he gets to his feet, and attempts to roll out of the way but no, his speed stat is just too low. Kodiak lands on Jericho, crushing him into a Y2Pancake. Michael Cole: Oh my! He crushed him! Matt Striker: I doubt Jericho's gonna be able to breathe properly for the rest of this match Kodiak looks over to the ladder, then back at Jericho, then back at the ladder, then back at Jericho. He shakes his head and rolls out of the ring, grabbing himself a second ladder. Once he has retrieved it, he leans one ladder in the corner, and the other laying across the mat. Jericho gets up to his feet, holding his stomach, and Kodiak immediately grabs him around the neck. He launches Jericho into the ladder in the corner, and then on the rebound, picks him up and hits a Back Body Drop onto the other ladder. Matt Striker: Ooh and it's a double whammy of pain for Jericho there. Michael Cole: Things aren't looking great for Y2J here. Kodiak lifts Jericho up again and drags him over to the ladder that is still resting in the corner. He grabs the second ladder and with a mighty roar, runs at Jericho and attempts to throw the ladder at Jericho. Y2J ducks it and the two ladders collide, making a quite loud crash Michael Cole: That was quite loud. Matt Striker: Quite. Before Kodiak can react, Jericho crawls under his legs and shoves him from behind into the two ladders. Kodiak hits the steel face-first and is busted open as a result. As he stumbles backwards, Jericho hits a few forearms to the face, runs the ropes and returns with a Dropkick to the face. Kodiak falls to the floor and Jericho rests a ladder on top of him. He looks to the ropes, runs towards then and hits a Lionsault onto the ladder! Michael Cole: Looks like Jericho's getting back into this! Yes! Matt Striker: What are you so happy about you biased shithead? Michael Cole: Well I don't know about you, but I don't want Kodiak to be my boss Matt Striker lets out some sort of grunt of agreement. Jericho appears hyped now: "C'MON!... C'MON!" He sets the ladder up in the middle of the ring. The adrenaline carries him through, and he manages to scale to the top of the ladder. It looks like it could well be all over here, but just as he is about to reach for the contract, Kodiak gets to his knees and shakes the ladder, causing Jericho to have to hold on in order to keep his balance. This gives Kodiak the chance to climb the ladder himself, and now it is both men standing on the top of the ladder. Matt Striker: Ahhh, this is my favourite part of every ladder match! Michael Cole: Now it's a battle to the bitter end, something's got to give, and whoever wins this exchange will likely win the match, it's a crucial point in the match here! The two men exchange forearms high above the ring, neither wanting to lose their footing and lose the chance to own the company. Eventually, Jericho changes it up a little bit, grabs Kodiak by the bleeding face and slams it down onto the top rung of the ladder, causing the bleeding to get even worse. Kodiak returns the favour, and now both men are busted open. Chris Jericho is dazed, he almost fall back, but manages to cling onto the ladder with one arm. Kodiak leans down and bites the remaining hand of Jericho. Michael Cole: What is he doing? Is he biting him?! Matt Striker: Jericho's gonna get rabies! Jericho screams out and quickly swings back to safety, hitting a forearm to the face of Kodiak to stop the bite. As Kodiak brings his head back up, Jericho grabs it hits a Codebreaker from the top of the ladder!!! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" The ladder topples over with the impact. Michael Cole: Both men down now! Matt Striker: I gotta say I think that was a stupid move on the part of Chri- The fans suddenly erupt into cheers as Matt Hardy, John Morrison, Christian and even Big Show run down from the back. Matt Striker: WHAT ARE THEY DOING OUT HERE? Michael Cole: Here comes the cavalry! Matt Striker: OH SHUT UP. FUCK OFF. Da Gang and Show storm the ring and begin attacking Kodiak. They work together to throw The Ravager over the top rope and out of the ring before setting up the ladder and trying to get Jericho up to his feet. Jericho still seems dazed but begins to climb the ladder. Michael Cole: While I don't necessarily agree with this, sometimes you've got to resort to drastic measures to ensure a maniac like Kodiak isn't the owner of this prestigious company. Matt Striker: This is classic Chris Jericho, can't do anything by himself. Kodiak promised me a bigger paycheck God dammit! Just as all hope seems lost, the fans cheer again! This time, it is Benjamin Breaks, Jeff Hardy, Dylan James and, for some reason Chris Hero! Michael Cole: This is interesting! This group also storms the ring and now it is complete and total carnage. Jericho is pulled from the ladder and knocked down. Jericho's posse and Kodiak's posse are now going at it in the ring and it is a mess of bodies going all over the place. Michael Cole: It looks to me like the newer generation of EWE guys have put their differences aside to come out to even the odds and help Kodiak! Matt Striker: Someone needs to get this under control! Jericho rolls out of the ring as the action continues. JoMo grabs a ladder and Dropkicks it into Jeff Hardy. Benjamin Breaks leaps onto Matt Hardy and locks him in the Around-The-World Armbar. Christian and Chris Hero trade shots to the face. The fans are going wild! Michael Cole: You're right, Striker. This has turned into total chaos! Matt Striker: But wait, look at this! Jericho and Kodiak both slide into the ring and work together to separate the two groups. The crowd cheer as Jericho talks to The Gang and Kodiak talks to the new breed of EWE. After a weirdly civil discussion, the two groups leave the ring and Jericho and Kodiak square up in the ring. |
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| Admin | Jan 8 2017, 08:15 AM Post #9 |
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Michael Cole: Looks like order has been restored! Matt Striker: That was weird though. Jericho refusing help? The two competitors exchange elbows, and Jericho hits an Irish Whip. As Kodiak hits the ropes, Chris Hero and Jeff Hardy leap up and pull down the top rope! Kodiak tumbles over and out of the ring! Jericho looks on in confusion as Hero and Jeff attack Benjamin Breaks, Dylan James and Kodiak with ladders. All of the new generation are now laid out on the outside. Matt Striker: I KNEW IT!! The Gang laugh their asses off as Hero and Hardy climb into the ring and set up a ladder. They point to the contract. Jericho comes to his senses and begins to climb! Matt Striker: NO. THIS ISN'T FAIR. REEEE Michael Cole: Kodiak might be getting screwed over hard, but it's for the best! Just as it appears Jericho is about to defend his legacy, Kodiak shoves past Hardy and Hero in a superhero-like move, and dashes up the ladder. He runs up just in time to smash Jericho's face against the steel! He grabs him in position for a Powerbomb! Michael Cole: Oh my god! What's he going for here! Matt Striker: A Powerbomb. Kodiak lifts Jericho up, and launches him down. Jericho flies through the air, straight out of the ring and into the arms of The Gang who desperately try to catch him, but falling from such a height causes too much speed and he just crashes into them like a projectile weapon! They all fall down like bowling pins and Kodiak is left on the top rope. Dylan James and Benjamin Breaks take out Hero and Hardy from behind. Michael Cole: OH MY... HE'S ACTUALLY GOING TO DO IT!! Kodiak smiles and pulls down the contract. Matt Striker: IT'S A NEW ERA FOR EWE! The bell rings. Blackout defeated The Miz by pinfall in 15:37 minutes Kodiak slowly climbs down from the ladder and looks at the contract that he has just received. He appears to realise what this means and smirks before holding it up as the crowd cheer loudly. Justin Roberts: Here is your winner! AND THE NEW CHAIRMAN OF THE EWE...KODIAK!!! Michael Cole: Oh my... Oh... My... The scene fades out as Benjamin Breaks and Dylan James both reluctantly raise Kodiak's hands in victory. The Gang cannot believe it, they are devastated. The scene begins in the back of a moving pick-up truck. The camera surveys the distant white mountains as they slowly shift across the purplish-red sunset horizon. The truck begins traversing a mountainous path. As the path slowly wraps around the mountain, the camera shows beautiful views of sprawling forest grounds covered in a thick, pure white snow. It shows a frozen river (which stretches across a distant village) that emanates from a frozen waterfall embedded in the mountain’s bosom. It shows people in the distance skiing across dazzling white plains. Suddenly, a low voice speaks: “Hokkaido, Japan.”. The camera then slowly pans inwards, revealing a hunched over, bearded man, clad in an unholy ensemble of camouflage and black furs. PI Why are you pointing the camera at him? I’m the one who’s talking! Over here, numbnuts! Says a growly, irritated voice coming from the left. The cameraman nervously replies: Skinny Jimmy O-oh, okay! The camera pans further to the left. It reveals a swarthy, somewhat heavyset man cursed with intense male pattern baldness (or perhaps blessed), the top of his perfectly round head softly glimmers in the arresting Japanese twilight, while deeply dark brown hair covers his temples, and the back of his head. Heavily moustachioed, and with mutton chops that may just steal yo girl, he projects an air of hostility and rudeness. His eyes hide behind brown, golden rimmed aviators. Oddly enough, he’s wearing nothing but a tanktop that reveals his alarmingly hairy torso (perhaps that’s how he stays warm in the cold), in addition to camouflage pants and army boots. The mystery man shouts in an angered Texan accent: PI YOU BETTER FUCKING GET IN LINE JIMMY, OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL LITERALLY TEAR YOUR THROAT RIGHT OUT OF YOUR NECK! The cameraman meekly replies: Skinny Jimmy S-sorry! Suddenly, the hunched man jumps out of his sleep, alarmed and defensive. Shawn Michaels PLEASE, JANNETTY!! NO!! DON’T DO IT!!! Startled, Jimmy repositions himself in order to capture both men in the shot. Shawn Michaels realizes that he was just having a nightmare, and looks around to regain his bearings. The mystery man acknowledges Shawn’s presence: PI Rise and shine Mister Michaels! We’re gonna get us some bounty today! Shawn Michaels Are we there yet, detective? Shawn asks, as if he didn't just suffer a rude awakening. The detective replies confidently: PI Almost there. They's holdin’ the tournament at the top of this mountain. The sum’ bitch will definitely be there. I guaran-damn-tee it. Shawn replies with an intense determination: Shawn Michaels He better be. The match is today, we have no room for error. I have been honing my Super Kick for months to defeat them. Both of them. For a moment, there is silence. As the grinning detective Jewishly rubs his hands together, Shawn breaks the quiet: Shawn Michaels You've taken care of the other finalist then, correct? The detective replies assuringly: PI Oh don’t you worry about that. It’s only going to be you and Double H today. Shawn pauses for a moment, and his expression changes to that of a doubtful man seeking reassurance. Shawn Michaels You’re sure that they’re actually brothers, right? This isn't some random guy that you've just tracked down? We’re sure about this? The detective enthusiastically replies: PI Hell yeah they’re brothers! Them’s a rotten family, you can’t mistake any of them for regular folk! It’s like every single one of them was genetically engineered to be the biggest piece of shit in the room, no matter the room. The shit I've found out tracking this asshole down would scare even New Jack straight. And I ain't no racist, but that is one crazy nigger right there. Shawn Michaels replies half-heartedly: Shawn Michaels I'm just saying, I've been honing my new Super Kick for a while now. It could be deadly, and I don’t want the wrong man to die here. The detective doesn't seem to pay attention to Shawn Michaels' words. He keeps rambling on instead: PI I mean I’m just sayin’, I’m no racist, but I’m just sayin’, if I ever saw that nigger in my neck of the woods I’d lynch him in a heartbeat. I ain’t no racist though, I got me black friends out the wazoo! But I’m just sayin’, that nigger is insane and even he’s no match for Double H. That nigger is so crazy that he really makes good niggers look bad. I mean I’m just sayin’, I’m no racist, look, my first ever friend was a nigger! I mean he was black, I mean I’m just sayi... Shawn bewilderingly stares at the detective, as he continually tries to show how “not racist” he is. Jimmy’s visage however, is alight with delight. He’s going to help the detective! And then the detective will like him! Skinny Jimmy Hey don’t worry mister detective! I’ll edit all this out later! No one will know that you’re racist! The detective stops talking, then directs his attention at Jimmy, and shouts at him red-faced: PI YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP JIMMY. I’M NOT RACIST AND I WILL PERSONALLY SHOVE THAT FUCKING CAMERA UP YOUR FUCKING ASS IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR FAGGOT MOUTH. SHUT IT JIMMMY. SHUT IT. Jimmy shivers and cowers in fear, as the pick-up truck finally comes to a stop. Now atop the mountain, Jimmy tries to calm himself as he steers the camera outwards to a fantastic bird’s eye view of the landscape, the last rays of sunlight shed their dwindling illuminating brilliance on the far reaches of the horizon where the sky kisses the earth. It fills Jimmy with fuzzy feelings, and makes him feel safe. PI It’s the fuckin’ sky, you ain’t seen one before? Get a move on, we’re here. Don’t make me fuckin’ yell at you again. Stress finds its way back into Jimmy’s soul, as he turns around to face yet another gorgeous view. A large, modern, uniquely Japanese structure cradles an inviting passageway into what seems to be an opulent compound. The detective turns to Shawn Michaels. PI Mister Michaels, lets get ‘er done! Shawn Michaels nods approvingly, and all three men proceed into the compound. They walk right into a wide, exceptionally designed reception area. On the opposing wall is the reception desk, which is beset by pathways from its left and its right leading further into the compound. A sharply dressed Japanese man mans the desk, and as he spots the men coming in from the outside, he enthusiastically yells: Reception Jap HERRO GUESTS! A surprised Shawn Michaels turns to the detective, and whispers: Shawn Michaels What the hell is he saying? I can't speak Japanese! PI Oh don't you worry mister Michaels, I speak fluent Japanese. I'll get us inside no problem! The detective enthusiastically replies to the Japanese man: PI HERRO! WE AAR HEYA FO ZA TOUNAMENTU FINURU! The Japanese man stands confused. Reception Jap YOU? FINURU? BUT I SOUGHT ZAT MISTA AWRIGHTU MAN WAS ZA FINUR CONTESTANT! Shawn observes the interaction, and tries to whisper a question to the detective without the Japanese receptionist noticing: Shawn Michaels What is he saying? I can't understand a word he says! The detective doesn't seem to hear Shawn's question. He continues his exchange with the receptionist: PI MISTA AWRIGHTU MAN NOT AWRIGHTU AT ZA MOMENTO. WE HEYA AS REPLACEMENTO. Reception Jap WERR, OKAY. COME WIZ ME INSIDO, WE SEE. The receptionist doesn't seem entirely convinced, but he leads them into the right pathway anyway. The quartet of men proceed down a lavish series of halls. Reception Jap WE ASK TOUNAMENTU OFFICIARU. IT DEPENDO ON ZEIYA RESPONSE. Shawn Michaels turns to the detective, and asks him worryingly: Shawn Michaels What is going on? Are we in or what? PI Yeah man we’re cool. He just asked about the other contestant, and I told him that we’re here as the replacement. Shawn Michaels So they don’t have a problem with that? PI Who gives a shit if they have a problem or not? We’re here, Double H is here. You do what you do, I get paid, we fuckin’ leave. These fucking gooks won’t do shit about shit. Remember Pearl Harbor? Shawn Michaels Yes, but what does that have to do with anyth- PI I sure as shit ain’t forgot. They got a problem with us, I got me a “fat man” that they can suck on, if you know what I mean. The detective giggles to himself manically, like the insane racist faggot that he is. Shawn Michaels I’m beginning to think hiring you was a mistake. PI Aww come on, it ain’t like them gooks can understand me! They can’t speak English! Reception Jap WE AAR HEYA. PUREASE WAIT OUTSIDE ZA DOOA WHIRE I TOK WIZ ZA OFFICIARU. Suddenly, they find themselves in front of a large door. Intensely loud sounds of cheering coming from the inside. It seems like they are at the gate of a stadium, or a fighting arena. The receptionist opens the door and walks in, leaving the three men behind. A minute passes, and the receptionist has not returned yet. PI Fuck this. I’m goin’ in Shawn Michaels This WILL end badly. Shawn Michaels then crotch chops the door. Shawn Michaels LETS GO BOYS! The three men blast the door open and burst into the room, running. To their surprise, they find themselves running down a ramp leading right into a ring. Surrounded by loud fans in every direction. Commentary Jap: HORY SHITTU! IT’S SHON MICHEREZU! The trio stops in the middle of the ramp, as the booming voice announces Shawn’s arrival. A spotlight shines on him. And the crowd goes W I L D! Commentary Jap: SHON MICHEREZU IS IN ZA BIRUDING! ZA NEW CHALLENGA! SHON MICHEREZU VAUZES “ZA FAT CONTRORRA” DOUBUR EITCHU! Shawn looks onwards to the ring. In the middle of the ring stands a mountain of a man, fat, covered in blood and surrounded by gore. His shit-eating grin spreads from ear to filthy ear. Long haired and heavily goateed, he looks like an asshole. He looks like his behaviour might be cuntish. Shawn Michaels is now fairly sure that this man is Single H’s sibling, for both radiate the very same insufferable aura. PI GO GET ‘EM MISTER MICHAELS! THAT FUCKING PRI- It was at that moment, that the detective notices one of the bodies on the canvas bears a familiar face: the receptionist! PI THAT MOTHERFUCKER! The detective then sprints right into the ring, Shawn Michaels and Skinny Jimmy follow suit. As soon as the detective jumps into the ring, he jumps into the Fat Controller’s face, exploding with rage as both Shawn Michaels and Jimmy observe from behind. PI YOU FUCKING FAGGOT! YOU KILLED HIM! HE WAS MY FIRST GOOK FRIEND! I’M NOT RACIST, BUT THAT GOOK WAS MY BEST FRIEND AND YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM! I MEAN HE WAS MY JAPANESE GOOK! I MEAN, MY JAPANESE FRIEND! I’M NOT RACIST YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! DON’T YOU JUDGE ME! I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I GRADUATED TOP OF MY CLASS IN THE NAVY SEA- At that moment, Double H grabs the detective, and throws him upwards so hard that he literally shatters the ceiling and disappears into the night’s sky. The entire arena collectively gasps! Commentary Jap: HORY SHITTU! HE IS FRYING AWAY! Skinny Jimmy OH MY GOD HE KILLED HIM! HE KILLED MISTER DETECTIVE! Shawn Michaels FUCK! NOW WHO’S GOING TO DRIVE ME TO THE AIRPORT? THIS IS FUCKED! The Fat Controller then turns his attention to Skinny Jimmy, and he yells out: Double H FUCK YE I KILLED HIM! AND I’LL KILL YOU TOO, YOU SKINNY BITCH! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Skinny Jimmy sets the camera on the corner post like a professional, then he calmly proceeds to curl up into a ball and bawl his pussy ass eyes out. Shawn Michaels Damn it Jimmy! You have to stop being a pussy! This is what’s wrong with today’s men. Nobody breaks a fifty, and then they wonder why they break down when faced with the slightest trauma. JUST MAN UP! JUST BE YOURSELF JIMMY! BECOME THE MAN YOU WERE DESTINED TO BE! Skinny Jimmy UUUUHUHHUUHUHHMN UH UH UH HUUUUUUUUUUUUHUHUHM Jimmy continues to cry like a complete bitch. Commentary Jap: AHAHAHA ROOK AT ZA RITTUR BABY! RAUGH AT HIM! AHAHAHAHAAH! The entire arena laughs at Skinny Jimmy. They laugh their asses off, like a pack of crazy ass Japanese hyenas. Shawn Michaels just shakes his head in disappointment. He then directs his attention to Double H, and crotch chops him! The crowd goes insane! Double H becomes agitated, and goes in for a Clothesline, but Shawn ducks, and as he is crouched, he tilts himself sideways. He kicks his back leg off the floor, and as he is at the apex of his jump, he kicks as hard as he can with his front leg! The sheer momentum from the jump, and the force of the second kick almost tears Double H’s head clean off! His jaw becomes unhinged, and the flesh of his face separates from his neck! BLOOD EVERYWHERE! Commentary Jap: HORY SHITTU! BURRIT KICKU! BURRIT KICKU! HORY SHITTU! THE CROWD GOES BANANAS! Shawn Michaels looks upon the bloody, convulsing heap of the giant. He crotch chops him one more time! Shawn raises his hands in celebration, he wants to bask in the glory of his victory! But wait! His match with Single H is coming up soon! Shawn Michaels OH SHIT! MY MATCH WITH SINGLE H IS COMING UP SOON! Now what is he going to do?! Shawn Michaels NOW WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?! There! Off in the distance! A cable car! Shawn Michaels THERE! OFF IN THE DISTANCE! A TELEFERIQUE! Shawn Michaels runs to the cable car and jumps in. Leaving the bloody carnage -and Skinny Jimmy (he’s still crying)- behind. The vehicle slowly starts traversing down the cable, as it disappears into the darkness of the night. The camera fades out. ![]() As we come back to ringside, Single H is finishing his entrance. His obnoxiously teal Nissan GT-R is parked on stage, and you can easily assume he just drove in. What? What's that? You wanted to see it? Well maybe you should've bought a live ticket rather than sitting there on your fat fucking ass and reading this from home. Cunt. Single H prances around the ring and points at his main man Henry Rollins at front row, who just happens not to be singing his theme song tonight despite being in attendance because he doesn't want to disrespect the aliens he just met two days ago by being over-adventurous. The crowd go wild, extremely excited to see Shawn Michaels in action for the first time in years, against Single H no less, the Living Legend himself! Gliding down a thick cable that seemingly nobody in the arena noticed, Michaels makes his entrance in the cable car we just saw him enter. Michael Cole: OH MY! Matt Striker: IT'S THE TELEFERIQUE! Michael Cole: NOBODY MAKES AN ENTRANCE LIKE SHAWN MICHAELS! Michaels is visibly prancing around inside the cable car, in the way that only he can. As the cable car slowly reaches near the ring, he jumps out, to yet another delighted pop from the crowd! He walks up the steel steps and enters the ring, then does his pose to a flurry a pyrotechnics behind him. He dances around to his own theme song and the electrified crowd just can't get enough! OKAY SO HERE'S THE DEAL. I wrote this fucking match. It was 5000 words long, and it was fucking beautiful. SOME FUCKING HOW, IT DIDN'T SAVE ON THE FORUM, SO NOW IT'S LOST FOREVER. I am so annoyed I feel like if I force myself to rewrite I'll never want to do EWE again, and I loved doing this, so that's just not gonna be an option. Thanks for reading guys, and I hope you don't mind this botch. Single H defeated Shawn Michaels by pinfall in 28:37 minutes |
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6:37 AM Jul 13

