The Random RP Thread
This thread is one that I have set up to allow people to RP whenever they feel like. You will not have an opponent for any of the RP's that you post in here. However, RPing against people that also post in this thread is possibly encouraged.
Be warned that I will be surveying this thread constantly and anyone who takes advantage of this thread to post RP's of poor quality for a post count will be reprimanded. Be advised that you may only RP once per week in this thread. You have another RP to do bi-weekly too and this thread is best used sparingly for people to work on live RP's and toy around with ideas and characters.
This thread has been set up to allow people to develop their characters and give practice to people who have not been given a match yet. You must be a member of the E-Fed to post in here and it is my hope that rookies and veterans alike can use this thread to develop their alter-egos and bounce off of other people.
We open with a backshot of a mansion. Beethoven's Ode to Joy is playing when the words The Elite Lifestyle floats across the screen in a regal font. We go inside to see a man sat in a grand, old chair reading a newspaper with a cup of tea next to him, he is 'The Elite' Steven Holmes. The music dies down.
Holmes: Ah welcome to the home of 'The Elite' Steven Holmes and to be more precise, 'The Elite Lifestyle'. As you can see, I live a life of comfort but don't let that fool you. I can be a pretty tough customer. If you don't believe me then just you wait. But that's for another time. Come allow me to show you around the family home.
He gets up and signals for the camera to follow him. We cut to Holmes approaching a painting that although clearly old, has a resemblance to him. He stops to admire it and turns to face the camera.
Holmes: This is a portrait of my great-grandfather, Lord Richard Holmes. He was a great man from what I here. He was an MP you know. Truly a great man.
Holmes nods approvingly before leaving. We cut to Holmes walking through his home as Ode to Joy picks up once again. There are various shots of Holmes admiring his rare china, priceless portraits and other valuble antiques. We finally cut to the dining room. Holmes is now sat down to dinner. The music dies down again.
Holmes: As you can see from this grand room, The Elite lifestyle serves me well.
The servant arrives with a plate of food and presents it to Holmes.
Holmes: Thank you Geoffery. As you can see only the best cuisine is served here at Holmes Manor. But this is only a taste of the great things that the Elite will bring to WCZW. The Elite will bring a new flavour a new, a much sought-after taste to WZCW. This is 'The Elite' Steven Holmes, bidding you farewell.
Holmes waves as the camera pulls out and Ode to Joy once more plays. The double doors that lead into the majestic room shut, as if to leave Holmes in peace. The camera remains fixated on the doors as the regal font once more appears this time with 'The Elite, coming soon.' written. The screen fades to black.
The crowd is gathered outside the arena, waiting for the doors to open so they can take their seat and enjoy WZCW Redemption. Titus signs and Killjoy t-shirts are abound. The excitement is palpable as fans do their best to be seen and heard as the camera following Leon Kensworth onto the scene. Leon faces the camera while walking backwards next to the barricade keeping the rabid WZCW fans from tearing Kensworth’s clothes off.
Leon Kensworth: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re moments away from WZCW Redemption, live on pay per view! The card is stacked, the crowd is ready, and the stage is set for a night of historic WZCW action. You won’t want to miss our triple threat main event to determine the undisputed World Champion of WZCW! Also, in a match that promises to produce absolute bedlam, the WZCW Tag Team Championships will be on the line as four teams will do battle in the unforgiving steel cage!
One match I know I’m on pins and needles over is the implosion of the Second Coming. You heard me right, wrestling fans! Phoenix and Garth Black will go one on one, tonight at Redemption! Right now, let’s get an idea who the audience thinks will be victorious tonight.
Kensworth turns to the crowd, who react enthusiastically to his acknowledgement.
Leon Kensworth: Wrestling fans, let’s some noise for the WZCW Redemption preview show! Who do you to win like in the match between the Second Coming?
The fans near Kensworth are split 50/50 in their reaction. Kensworth turns back to the camera with a look of glee on his face.
Leon Kensworth: Well that doesn’t seem to have settled much. I guess you’re just going to have to tune in and see it settled in the ring, LIVE, tonight, on pay per view!
The crowd about fifty meters down the barricade begin jeering and heckling a man who’s approaching them. Kensworth turns to see what’s going on and then waves the cameraman to follow him.
Leon Kensworth: Ladies and gentleman, if that’s who I think it is, we may have a breaking story... Come on, cameraman. Pick up the pace!
Kensworth reaches the man being heckled by the audience to see that it’s none other than Hunter Kravinoff, a man who had a brief stint in WZCW earlier this year. Kravinoff is adorned in a black suit and sky blue button-down shirt with an open collar and is holding a small wooden crate in his hands as he stands a few feet from the barricade and soaks in the crowd’s reaction with a huge smile on his face. His eyes scan the crowd, noting every cat call he’s receiving. After taking it in for a few moments, Hunter notices Kensworth is standing next to him with a microphone. He puts the crate down at his feet and turns to address Kensworth.
Leon Kensworth: Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Cup of Coffee, himself. What brings Hunter Kravinoff to Redemption?
Hunter Kravinoff: The blood of man is what draws me from Point A to Point B, so I’m sure it’s no mystery what brings me here.
What is this “Cup of Coffee” talk?
Leon Kensworth: You might not have heard from whatever hole you crawled in, but you’ve been a joke among WZCW’s internet following for months. You showed up, got a win, looked promising, and then vanished into thin air. What gives, nature boy? Where’d you go?
Hunter looks confused as he mouths “nature boy” and appears to contemplate retorting to the attempted insult. After a moment, he thinks better of it and answers Kensworth’s question.
Hunter Kravinoff: My history quite clearly explains what gives. You do remember the harrowing tale of my life, don’t you? I’m not sure what kind of person could forget such a thing.
Leon Kensworth: Of course I remember. Your parents were killed in front of you when you were a child in Uganda, you acquired a taste for blood in the days that followed, you were taken in by apes who taught you how to survive in the wild, and you went on to become the king of jungle after jungle. Great gimmick. The bit about how you learned English while hiding in the shadows and listening is gold.
Hunter smirks, lowers his head, and shakes it in disgust. He then lifts it, still smirking, and gazes with conviction at Kensworth.
Hunter Kravinoff: ”Gimmick.” Right. You can keep your ignorance for now. You’ll learn soon enough. Once the breadth of my brutality has been released on the WZCW roster, you’ll know how sorely mistaken you are.
Leon Kensworth: Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question. Where’d you go?
Hunter Kravinoff: Well, as I said, my history explains what happened. If you recall the last time you saw me, you’ll remember that I was dropping to my knees, begging for mercy, praying that Excellency wouldn’t hit me with a kendo stick. While this was a forgettable detail to most people, to me, it was a defining moment. It exposed a weakness to me that I’d previously been blind to. Something that I needed to correct. Have you figured out what that weakness was, Kensworth?
Leon Kensworth: You’d exposed your cowardice in spite of you insistence that you’re a merciless predator?
Kravinoff’s expression changes to one of rage as he steps closer to Kensworth, who steps back accordingly.
Hunter Kravinoff: I’ll let that one slip, Mr. Kensworth.
No, it was not cowardice. It was the damage of my past. As you can surely tell from my bloodlust, the events that inform my story stay with me. Some make me stronger. Others cripple me. When Excellency measured me with that kendo stick, I was no longer in that ring. Seeing his silhouette triggered a sort of hallucination.
Leon Kensworth: A hallucination? Of what?
Hunter Kravinoff: A rhinoceros.
Leon Kensworth: You’re kidding me, right?
Hunter Kravinoff: I’m afraid not. You see, his silhouette on that night, with the kendo stick protruding above his head, was very much the spitting image of a rhinoceros.
Leon Kensworth: I beg to differ.
Hunter Kravinoff: Differ all you may, but I know what I saw. I saw the rhinoceros that, in what I believe was 1997, tore into my hip, hindering my ability to hunt for many months. I thought I’d gotten over this setback, but the psychological scars, unseen by me in the time since then, have remained. I’ve spent the last few months correcting that, getting my head on right. I need to be healthy in body and mind if I hoped to rise to the top of WZCW. And now I’m ready.
Leon Kensworth: Okay, I’ll humor you.
What makes you think you can deal with the competition WZCW has to offer when you couldn’t even handle a rhinoceros?
Hunter Kravinoff: I did handle it. After recovering, it was the first thing I handled.
I handled it with my knee in its back as I choked the life from it with a rattlesnake.
Kensworth stared, stunned, at the alleged barbarian that stood in front of him. After a few moments, he pressed on with his interview.
Leon Kensworth: What’s in the box?
Hunter Kravinoff: A megaphone.
Kravinoff props open the crate and withdraws a megaphone. He then reseals the crate and turns back to Kensworth.
Hunter Kravinoff: What’s more important is what’s about to take place on the box.
Kravinoff steps on top of the crate and stares out into the crowd, re-igniting their ire for him. The jeers grow louder as he raises the megaphone to his mouth.
Hunter Kravinoff: WZCW fans, it is I, Hunter Kravinoff!
A “Who are you?” chant breaks out among some as the jeers of others continue to ring through the air.
Hunter Kravinoff: Who am I? Fantastic question, seeing as our time together was cut short before I could truly show you what stands before you. But fear not, as I am here to correct that malfeasance. I’m here to enrich my relationship with the fans of WZCW and let you know who I am!
As the chant dies off, the outcries against Kravinoff persist. Kravinoff sets the megaphone down, takes off his jack, sets it down, and undoes his shirt, tossing it to the crowd. Revealed from under his button-down shirt is a white t-shirt with the sentence “Hunter Kravinoff once threw a lion into a body of water with sharks to see if the lion would put up a fight.” He picks up the megaphone and continues.
Hunter Kravinoff: We’re going to make up for some lost time tonight! Our relationship has been stagnant too long, so I think it’s time for all of you to get to know some intimate details about my life. And the best way to do that is to send all of you home with a Hunter Kravinoff t-shirt!
Kravinoff sets the megaphone down, takes off his t-shirt, and throws it out to the crowd. Upon taking off his shirt, he revealed another white t-shirt. This one says “Hunter Kravinoff knows the best way to execute a neck-breaker on a giraffe.” Hunter picks up the megaphone and continues.
Hunter Kravinoff: These shirts are free of charge, informative, made in the USA, and promote reading. What more could you want?
Kravinoff repeats what he did with his last two shirts, this time revealing a shirt that says ”Dogs fear Hunter Kravinoff more than The Terminator”, which draws an overwhelming chorus of boos.
Hunter Kravinoff: They may be man’s best friend in the developed world, but by the rules of the jungle, they wouldn’t stand a chance against me.
Kravinoff takes off this shirt, his last one for the moment, throws it into the crowd, and picks up the megaphone once more.
Hunter Kravinoff: If you’d like more t-shirts, I’ll be here after the show! Thank you for your time! Spread the word of Kravinoff and have fun at Redemption!
Kravinoff dismounts from the crates, puts the megaphone back in the box along with his jacket, picks up the box, and walks into the sunset as Kensworth stands staring in Kravinoff’s direction, dumbfounded by what just happened.
As Beethoven's Ode to Joy begins to play, we see 'The Elite' Steve Holmes walking out of an airport in a suit. His cases are being carried for him by his butler, who looks dejected. The music begins to die down.
Holmes: Ah, hello. 'The Elite' Steven Holmes here. As you can see, I've just arrived in the land of the free, home of the brave, The United States of America. What an interesting country this is.
A limo pulls up besides Holmes and the butler. The butler opens up the door for Holmes and Holmes gets in.
Holmes: Thank you Geoffery.
We cut to inside the car as the butler loads to boot with his cases and Holmes gets in.
Holmes: As you're aware, Britain and the United States have had a special relationship. I hope that I can continue the tradition of great Brits that have come to America and had success. People like Richard Branson and David Beckham.
The boot closes and the car pulls off.
Holmes: Now, as an Elite, I'm entitled to certain benifits that you blue collared folk aren't. I'm entitled to riches beyond your wildest dreams, I'm entitled to fancy clothes, priceless antiques and other things that are beyond your reach. Now I see you sitting at home thinking, 'so this man's had everything handed to him, there's no way he can cut it here in WZCW.' Well, that's where your wrong. I've come to this country, not to realise the American Dream, but to prove why I'm an Elite, and you aren't. So prepare yourselves for Aristocracy to Reign. This is 'The Elite' Steven Holmes, signing off.
Holmes waves at the camera as Ode to Joy picks up. The screen fades to black and the word 'The Elite, coming soon.' appear on screen in a regal font.
[Black screen. A voice-over breaks the silence, speaking in a relaxed tone.]
Gordito: My dad once told me: "It's takes a big man to kick my ass, but it won't take him very long".
[Music starts playing. It's "Flossing A Dead Horse", by NoFX]
Gordito: He also used to tell me to look him the eyes when he was speaking, and that I was free to do as I wished as a teenager, but that I could never call him from jail and expect to come home anytime soon. But I think the point he was making was this: no matter where you are, or how comfortable you feel, there will always been someone willing and able to take your spot.
[Images appear in the dark as if played from a projector. It is of the contract battle royale featuring Steven Holmes, Toyota Wasabi, and Gordito. After a few moments, the voice-over starts in again.]
Gordito: He probably meant it as a warning. He never felt I was as stern or as serious about things as I should be, like he was. But I took it a different way; why worry about permanence when you can enjoy the experience? Nothing lasts forever, baby, that's what he was really telling me. Everything you attain will fade away eventually. The best we can do is prepare ourselves to make our name in the world, to follow our dreams, and to enjoy what we've got while we've got it.
[The images change to scenes from the Chris Jones/Gordito match from Ascension. He picks up his verbal tempo dramatically.]
Gordito: So a couple of years later I open for a friend's band at Rocktoberfest, a rock festival at some shitty college in Northern California, and after the show we're all drinking and being stupid, when one of the school staff approached with quite the damn attitude. He was saying something silly like "blah-blah-blah open alcohol containers" and "yadda-yadda calling campus security" when he asked us: "Why would you want to waste your life doing something that's probably going to kill you in the long run?". And that's when it hit me: because it's what I want to do. Our time here is limited, and so I'm not going to waste any of it doing anything I don't want to do. I'll take 35 years of fun and games and a shot liver over ending up 65 with the last 15 years spent in a wheelchair lamenting about all the good times I didn't have, about all the risks I didn't take, and about all the adult diapers I'll be going through in the next week.
[The images stop playing. The screen is black again momentarily, until a small spotlight from above turns on and reveals Gordito standing facing the camera with his arms crossed. He begins speaking.]
Gordito: Wrestling is my life. Wrestling is my passion. Wrestling is what I what to die being remembered for! Wrestling is how I want to inspire you, and entertain you and make you go "damn, that tubby bastard can put on a show"! I want to excite you in the same way that wrestlers and rock bands excited me! I want you to see that working hard and being tough and never giving up will always lead you to what you want, but I want you to also see that you should have fun while you can still have it. Enjoy every damn sandwich, every damn beer, every damn spinebuster, every damn loss, and every damn victory! Life is too short to waste being worried about when The Dirty Train is gonna end. As long as it's still rolling, have fun and go crazy my friends! Have fun & go crazy!
[Fade to black as the song ends]
Last edited by DirtyJosé : 06-09-2010 at 09:10 PM.
*camera cuts to the ring at a house show, where fans just watched a match between two local wrestlers, hoping to get noticed by WZCW. The arena darkens and the temperature drops as Amaranth by Nightwish suddenly starts playing over the sound system*
*smoke rises from the entrance, only to fade to show Chris Jones standing, causing the fans to boo. Jones makes his way to the ring, paying no attention to the people who jeer his appearance. He grabs a microphone from one of the stagehands and enters the ring, looking around at the hate-filled fans*
Jones: ...a few moments ago, you saw a match between two no-name locals, hoping beyond all hope that this company would recognize at least one of them as someone worth spending their money on. Not so long ago, I was no different from them. I came here, hoping that I could wash away the work I had done before, and start anew.
*the crowd continues to boo Jones, who pauses a moment to listen to them before continuing*
Jones: Some would say that I've done well. After all, how many rookies can say that they took part in two PPV title matches within just a month of their debut? Wilheim Wunderbar can't say that. Tucker Graham can't say that. But I can.
*Jones then sighs, regretting that he has to say what he's about to say*
Jones: But now, I'm not even on the PPV card for Unscripted, much less a title match.
*crowd cheers this fact, annoying Jones*
Jones: ...I wondered why I was left off. I thought that I could, at the very least, be one of the choices for John Constantine's invitational. But I'm not even granted that. And as I wondered what I had done wrong, I overheard Scott Hammond's promo for the PPV. And as much as I hate to admit it, his comments about me losing a match again...well, they got to me.
*crowd cheers again, one fan suddenly shouting "You can't wrestle!". Jones snaps to attention, glaring at the fan*
Jones: Excuse me?! Did you just say what I thought you just said?! You worthless dog turd, you have no right whatsoever to say that I can't wrestle, when you can't wrestle a good match to save your life! What gives you the right to critique my wrestling ability, when the closest thing you've come to wrestling is rolling around in the hay with your brother!
*crowd boos loudly as Jones paces around the ring*
Jones: Let me make something very, very clear to you. If I laid out every secret the wrestling industry had, 99.9% of you would just sit there with the blank, vacant stares that you have on your faces right now, due to total lack of understanding, while .1% of you would probably wet yourselves when you realize just what people like me have to go through every day, just for you ungrateful pieces of crap! So I suggest that you get this through your heads real fast: None of you have any right to say that any of us don't know how to wrestle.
*crowd roars in disapproval as Jones stops pacing*
Jones: Now then...where was I? Oh, right...when I heard what Scott Hammond had to say about me, I came to realize that no one, in the locker room or out, could take me seriously. When a complete and total joke like Doug Crashin can rip off my name and no one says two words about it, something is very wrong. So I asked myself what I had done wrong, why people considered me not worth their time.
*Jones sighs, again regretting the next few words before he even says them*
Jones: And then I realized that, much like Crashin, I had talked the talk, but hadn't walked the walk. Everyone thought that I was just going on and on about my high moral values because I liked the sound of my own voice. I was like a lone wolf, howling at the moon, hoping that anyone would answer my call, but realizing that no one would.
*Jones glares at the camera, ignoring the constant boos*
Jones: You see, I gave you people much more credit than you deserved. I thought that I didn't need to show you what you were, but that I just needed to tell you. That that was all you needed to understand what you had become, and that you would change on your own. Clearly, that was a mistake. Clearly, I need to treat you all like children, and walk you through the changes you need to make. No longer will I just tell you what happens if you don't change. Now, I will show you what will happen. And there is not a soul who is exempt from this. Men, women, and children. Young and old. Gay, straight, bisexual, transsexual, necrophiliac, pedophiliac, or asexual. White, black, Asian, East Indian, Native American, Jewish, Irish, Scottish, Australian, or Egyptian. Not one race, creed, sex, religion, or political group is safe. You are all equal in my eyes.
*crowd boos constantly as Jones continues*
Jones: I thought I needed to stay above the filth, to be your guiding light, but now I will lead by example. I will wallow through the muck that society has become, and I will walk away the same I always was, proving to you all that I am the one you need to follow, that I am your Savior, and I know what's best for you.
*Jones throws down the mic and marches away, crowd booing him as Amaranth plays over the sound system*
Make sure to rep The Killjoy for this awesomeness.
*Sat quietly in deep though, Zakk Falcon notices somebody below. It's Leon. Zakk continues to sit silently while he watches Leon.*
*Leon catches glimpse of the WZCW World Heavyweight Champion, Ty Burna.*
"Excuse me. Excuse me, Ty Burna!" says Leon frantically.
*WZCW Champion, Ty Burna looks at Leon and smiles.*
"Leon, what can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if you could tell me where Zakk Falcon was, Ty?"
*Ty looks confused as he thought he was the one Leon wanted to speak with.
"Oh..yeah, he's up there."
*Ty Burna points up to a higher level as he walks away in a huff.*
*Leon looks up as he notices Zakk Falcon sitting on some nearby scaffolding about 20ft up. Zakk has his hands interlocked between eachother as if he was praying.*
"Uhh...Zakk? Are you alright up there?" *Leon sounds quite nervous and worried.*
*Zakk doesn't respond*
"Do you want me to call for help?...a doctor?"
*Zakk stands up, revealing himself to Leon properly.*
*There is a long silence between Zakk and Leon.*
"I don't need a doctor. What I need is for all my loyal followers out there to show me how much they appreciate me....so...All my Falcon's out there...*the crowd in the arena roar with a load cheer repeating 'Falcon, Falcon, Falcon.'"..yeah, that's what I wanted."
*Zakk quickly jumps off of the scaffolding as Leon looks worried at the fact that Zakk just jumped from a 20ft high platform. Leon goes to see if Zakk is alright but by the time Leon gets over to Zakk, he is gone.*
*Leon cannot see Zakk, but Zakk can see Leon. Zakk lets out a primal screech that strongly resembles the sound of a Falcon cawing.*
*We are backstage at Meltdown 45 where Stacey Madison has caught up with Барбоса after the conclusion of the Contract Battle Royale*
Ladies and gentlemen, I have managed to catch up with the multi-faceted, mystery man, fresh from his participation in the Contract Battle Royale tonight, Барбоса.
*Барбоса moves into shot alongside Stacey. He is still sweating from the night's earlier exertions and yet is smiling widely, almost idiotically*
Thank you, Stacey. It's great to be here having the chance to compete against so many tremendous athletes in front of all the great WZCW fans.
Барбоса, with all due respect, you might be happy to be here and may have gotten a contract from Meltdown General Manager, Chuck Myles but you barely made the top third of the new generation and showed compassion to Hays when you had him down and it ultimately led to your elimination. Mistakes such as that will not get you very far in WZCW...
*Барбоса looks a little taken aback by this; his jovial demeanour somewhat diminished*
Oh... well... ah... maybe you are right, Stacey. While I did receive the honour of a WZCW contract from Mr. Myles, I am somewhat disappointed in my performance in the Battle Royale and I am certainly disappointed in not winning, but there was a lot of great talent in the ring and Winters thoroughly deserved his victory. Having said that, I know that my in ring skills are worthy of this contract and now that I have signed mine I know I can make waves in WZCW.
*Not satisfied with that, Stacey continues on her probing attack*
That is all well and good, Барбоса, but being less than forthcoming about your background and short on details during your interviews will not help endear you to WZCW management or the fans
*Барбоса's face is now a mixture of confusion and shock*
Not forthcoming? Short on details? I fail to see what else I could have said without going into pedantics or needless speculation about what my opponents are like... but if it is the case that I have been too brief then I am truly sorry and apologise profusely to WZCW management, the rest of the roster and especially to the fans. It was the last thing I intended to do... however, I must admit that seeing as how I am new to this kind of self-promotion, I am not entirely sure what I should say...
*Барбоса looks increasingly lost for what to say and Stacey sees an opportunity to chastise her quarry further*
I am not here to give you advice and pointers on how to sell yourself to your peers, fans and bosses.
But what am I supposed to talk about... aside from... from... my training... my in-ring skills and intentions in WZCW?
*Барбоса is beginning to look more and more agitated and desperate. His brow is even sweatier than it was before the interview began and he is waving his arms about in an increasingly flailing manner*
What am I going to do?
If I don't improve my connection with the fans, I will never achieve my dream of becoming the best wrestler in the world!
I can't rely on my fellow competitors for help. It is dog eat dog in the locker room!
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?
*In his manic delirium, Барбоса knocks the microphone out of Stacey's hand*
Hey, watch it!
*As Барбоса continues to freak out, Stacey scurries after the mic and the camera follows her as she bends over for the gratuitous throng shot. However, when she retrieves it and the camera pans back up again, Барбоса has not only calmed down, he now has a very serious look on his face. Stacey does not notice straight away and reprimands the cameraman*
I hope you were not zooming in on my ass...
*She turns back to Барбоса*
And you be more careful or else I'll...
Or else you'll what? You'll report me to WZCW management? You'll bad mouth me to the entire locker room? Well, it seems to me that you are too late for clearly someone has done that already! How else can you explain an athlete of my calibre being forced to compete for a contract that should be mine by rights? Myles may have recognised and rectified that error by giving me my contract but what should have been a glorious moment for me was denigrated by the fact that my debut match was not in challenging for a championship but being foisted into a shambolic and chaotic Battle Royale where a gifted athlete like myself could easily get injured.
That moment was further diluted by the simultaneous signing of such no-talent hacks like Sam Smith, Hays, Justin Cooper, Brad Bomb, Bud Dakota, Ferbian and Michael "The Lies" Winters. Did you see what I did to Smith out there? He is lucky to be able to leave the arena under his own power tonight! Clearly those morons realised that they were in the ring with a far superior competitor and decided to team up against me. It took a whole cadre to throw me over the top rope. It was either sheer luck or an organised conspiracy that prevented victory for yours truly ... but not to worry as I will soon put this travesty right...
*Барбоса seems to have finished his rant and a visibly more cautious Stacey goes to ask another question... but Барбоса cuts her off again*
As for my brevity and terseness towards the WZCW fans and media, how long does it take to describe what I am going to do in the ring and how badly I am going to hurt my opponents? What else do you want me to say? Do you want me to divulge my game plan to the world? Do you want me to re-enact some part of my life for the camera where I open up emotionally to some airheaded, bimbo interviewer like yourself? ? Do you want me to perform some staged gimmicky sideshow where I dress in drag and do the hula?
*Барбоса leans close into Stacey's face*
That is not going to happen... This is not a soap opera! This is not a reality show! This is wrestling! THIS IS SERIOUS BUSINESS!!
*Барбоса is seething with anger*
I do my talking in the ring... and if that is not good enough for this company and its fans…
I don’t care and WZCW and its roster won’t know what hit them when I enlighten them all to their folly!
*Барбоса storms off, leaving Stacey a little shaken. However, just before she can end the segment, shuffling can be heard around the corner. Stacey and the cameraman go to investigate only to find Барбоса sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall, all of the confidence, intensity and scorn that he had exuded mere moments before have seeped away, replaced by this mumbling, sniffling mess of a man who looks on the verge of crying*
What am I going to do...? What if I don't get better? *sniff* I'm going to mess up my big chance... They are going to let me go... *sniff*
*Барбоса spots Stacey*
What are you doing here? GET AWAY FROM ME!
*Барбоса pushes over the cameraman and as the camera hits the ground the screen is replaced with static...*
A dark and eerie night becomes prevalent as the figure of John Constantine fulfils the foreground. He stands tall in his designer suit. The wind is blowing through his hair and through the darkness but with an air of silence. Looking anxious but committed, Constantine turns his head and looks into the distance. The pitch black that surrounds him is ominously quiet but strangely lively as he squints into the distance. There is something in the air, an air of expectancy perhaps.
Constantine: They’re out there, you know!
Constantine: Aliens! They are all around us, Mia!
Constantine: They are in our enterprises! They are in our markets! They are always watching us, Mia. You cannot go around these parts without meeting one. You don’t know it because they cover their tracks so well but they are amongst us.
Mia: Sir, are you… OK?
Constantine (sharply): Oh, I have never been better, Mia! Tonight, I am going to prove to everyone that these… things exist and are amongst us. Tonight, Mia. Tonight I prove to this great nation that I am looking out for their best interests. Tonight I will show the United States Of America that the truth is out there. You only need to come out here to get a grasp of what I am talking about, Mia. They are EVERYWHERE!
Mia: Sir, I don’t understand what you are getting at…
Constantine: Of course you don’t, Mia! For you see, you too are blinded by popular belief. You are like most of the weak-minded citizens of the United States. You believe that they don’t exist so that you don’t have to break any social contracts. You don’t want to put your neck on the line and address what we all know to be true. You are bound by the law of social tradition and cannot break that regime. I am not, however, bound by such tradition.
What kind of hero would I be to these people if I sugared the pill? What kind of leader of man would I be if I shied away from the harsh realities that plague this wondrous nation? What kind of saviour would I be if I could tell the people the truth about what surrounds them?
Mia (cutting him off): Well, you would be Chris Jones or, God forbid, Doug Crashin!
Constantine: Exactly, Mia! The people deserve to know what is going on and I have made my name on being honest... Hell! It’s what made me the politician I am today.
Constantine takes a deep breath in and allows it to pass back into the environment with a heavy sigh.
Mia: Yes! Very good, Sir… But you cannot possibly think that aliens are real, can you?
Constantine: Oh yes! I absolutely do. They come here from places that we could never understand. People like to believe that they are here for good but they are wrong, Mia. Illegal aliens are the death of this great nation!
Mia: Ah! I see! I thought you were referring to extra-terrestrials, Sir.
Constantine: Don’t be so ridiculous, Mia. Illegal aliens pose much more of a threat than that.
Yes! The threat level of an illegal alien supersedes anything that comes out of the mouth of Captain Picard…
Mia looks bewildered.
Constantine gives her a questioning look before letting out another sigh. As he goes to speak once more, a rustling comes from a near-by location. Constantine’s ears visibly perk up as he catches a glimpse of the cause in the distance. His eyes fixed and his intent signalled, Constantine begins a charge towards the source of his distress. As he runs into the darkness, Mia tries to follow.
As Mia rounds a line of shrubbery that is illuminated in the harsh moon-light, she finds her Boss wrestle a man to the ground. As he subdues the man, Constantine fixes his hands behind his back before securing his target on the ground, the victim’s nose placed deeply in the sandy terrain. With four more people huddled around and looking fearful, Constantine fixes his suit and looks at Mia, pleased with his work.
Constantine: You see, Mia! They are everywhere! These illegal aliens will be the death of this country! Mark my words! You wondered why I would come out here and patrol the border and at times like this, it is not hard to see why.
You are under citizen’s arrest, Hombre!
As the other people try to reason with Constantine, a look of dread appears on Mia’s face. Constantine tosses his mobile phone at Mia.
Constantine (regaining his breath): Phone the immigration services, Mia. I’ve wrangled myself a live one here!
Mia: I… I… Don’t know the number, Sir.
Constantine: Speed dial number one! These amigos and Chiquitas are going back to Mexico on whatever door they sailed in on.
You see, Mia, these people come into our country and take the things away from the everyday American civilian! They take the best jobs at the best locations. Think how many hard-working Americans are put out of work because of these people picking our fruit and landscaping our lands!
People like this don’t deserve my time normally but I did this to prove a point. You see, for too long WZCW has been infested with these people! They hide behind their “work visas” and think nothing of it. Both of my competitors are putrid filth that deserves to be flushed down whatever drainage pipe they crawled into this country from.
Mia (confused): Sir! Gordito is from the United States!
Constantine (desperately): You are not serious!? His name is Gordito, for Constantine’s sake! That’s as Mexican as they come! Its right after Juan on the ethnicity scale, Mia.
Mia: No, Sir! I did some research for the match and it turns out that he is born and bred in this country!
Constantine: Hmm! That throws somewhat of a spanner in the works, Mia.
At that moment, a truck with two border patrol officers pulls up at the sight of the incident, their blue lights flashing into the dark night. Constantine gets off of the man and without fuss, the family is hauled into a large truck. Constantine gives the guards a quick nod of satisfaction and waves smugly as the truck with the apprehended aliens passes him.
Constantine: Now, Mia! We have done this great nation a favour tonight, believe it or not! You see, for too long WZCW has allowed its ranks to be filled with people who have no business of being there. For too long, people that belong in this great company have been robbed of the opportunity to succeed by this filth. Chris Beckford is a great example of the filth I am talking about.
At Ascension last week, I was embarrassed by one a man who has no business meddling in my affairs. Chris Beckford is a man who should know better. Not only have I battered him to a pulp in the past, I have physically abused him and whatever moral code he stands for. He robbed me of my opportunity to go onto the semi-finals of the Gold-rush tournament and I simply will not stand for it!
Constantine’s face goes red with despair as the emotion of the moment gets to him. Taking a moment of silence, he composes himself again.
Constantine: When I started in WZCW, I made a promise to the people. I made a promise that I would rid this country of the disease that plagues it. In this time in American history, the fact that Chris Beckford looks at me with those eyes that are so full of deceit as he eats his way into the coffers of the American people… It makes me sick, Mia.
He has taken something from me as the people we apprehended would have done to this great country. He has taken away my stage. He has taken away my podium of truth. The people of this great country do not look at me the same way as they did a few weeks ago. Since I…
Constantine puts his hand to his gut as a pain rushes through it. Remembering the events of Ascension, the pain becomes more abundantly clear.
Constantine: As we crashed through that table onto the cold floor below, I felt the disappointment of my flock crash down upon me also. I have never been more embarrassed!
Constantine lowers his head to his chin and takes a moment of silence as Mia looks on at him, worriedly.
Constantine: But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that this was a wake up call for me. In the last couple of weeks, I have rested on my laurels. I was the man who defeated Everest and Doug Crashin at Unscripted! I was the man who would lead the people into a new dawn of WZCW! Mia! I was the man who the people pinned their hopes on!
As we crashed through that announce table, I had a realisation… I realised that I need to be more ruthless than ever! I realised that my work is far from over and if I cannot beat the likes of that putrid filth Chris Beckford, then how am I ever going to beat the disease that currently afflicts this great company?
This is a company that rewards losers, Mia! This is a company that has given that sleazy degenerate Gordito a place in a tournament that is so far above him, he can barely see it from the plummeting depths of the Mayhem division! It makes me absolutely sick to my stomach to think of the nerve it must take to even show up at our match, knowing that you couldn’t even win your match…
Mia: Doesn’t the same apply to you, Sir?
Constantine: No, Mia! It certainly does not! I will tell you the main difference between myself and the other two Neanderthal heathens that will stand across the ring from me at Ascension. The main difference is that I stand for something! I stand for all that is good in this company. I stand for the morals of the great unwashed masses. Mia, I stand for victory! Ascension was a small hiccough in my plan to be the icon that the people want and deserve!
At Ascension, Chris Beckford and Gordito will face a man that they have never seen before. They will see a new and rejuvenated John Constantine! As the Axis of Evil meets with their near lifeless bodies, they will know that I am a man of my word and that word is success.
I will not tolerate a lame double count out at Ascension next week, Mia. I will not tolerate defeat to someone who doesn’t belong in this country and I certainly will not accept a defeat to a man who is no better than a Mayhem talent! Yes, Mia! Last week’s Ascension sparked something deep within me.
At Ascension 21, there will be no failure for John Constantine. I will show no fear and I will progress to the next round of the Gold-Rush tournament…
Mia: And if you don’t?
Constantine: Failure is not an option, Mia. Let’s just leave it at that.
Camera's begin to roll, as we see DK Wilton rushing around with Johnny Klamor. The two men seem to be on somewhat of a mission as they are both seen wearing a pair of track suits and sporting black gloves. They begin to walk up upon a box placed upon an altar in what seems to be the Nevada desert.
DK, what in the red hot hell are we doing out in the desert here. And why is there a box!?
Calm down Johnny, it's all apart of the plan. I have got this under control. This box right here, you see it right!?
No kidding, what's inside of this!?
Prepare to be amazed Klamor. This shall change your very own outlook on life... Open the box.
Johnny approaches the box, as he places his hands on it he briefly looks back towards DK, whom is trying to hold back some laughter as he glances over at Klamor. He opens the box and looks back at Wilton with a blank stare. He pulls out what turns out to be a rifle.
What in the hell are we doing with a loaded GUN!!?!?
Bird Hunting... hahaha
DK then bursts out laughing after trying to hold it back for the longest time. He looks at Johnny who is more relieved than anything. DK walks up to the opened box and stands tall beside Klamor as he puts his hand on his shoulder.
Don't you feel younger already? I mean we are having fun are we not!? Even I, a man who is critically acclaimed and who has shown a serious passion for this business can have a good time as well.
Well, you sure as hell scared me. Nearly gave me a damned heart attack. Are you out of your mind? First you come to my hotel room and drag me out at 5 O' Clock in the morning. And now you bring me to the desert to go "Bird" hunting!?
Come on lighten up a bit. Do YOU think I'm crazy or something?..
Crazy, no Wilton your own another level.
Hahah why thank you, that just makes me feel so much better about myself. Come on you old hack, shall we continue?
Since I'm already out here why not....
The camera's then fade out as we see a "To Be Continued" screen hit.
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