The Random RP Thread

Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Dave, Apr 22, 2010.

  1. Kermit

    Kermit the Frog

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    Haven: Issue #13
    Crisis at Infinite Comic Cons
    Part 1

    ???: LET ME OOOUUUUUUUUUUT!

    A madman in a straitjacket snarls behind an iron-clad door. A nurse and a doctor watch him through a barred window.

    Nurse: He hasn’t settled down since he has arrived here. When he’s not screaming, he’s muttering non-stop about you know who…

    Doctor: Well, you know who did put him behind bars. A grudge can be a festering wound… Not only that, but mental illness is such a sad cancer. To go from ivy league mind to an off-white straitjacket is a sad fall. No matter, his next of kin wishes to help and thus has provided for us a friend for him. That will surely keep him quiet.

    Nurse: Finally, I can get some reading done.

    Doctor: Ah, here he is now.

    Two burly guards enter the room of the madman. The madman tries to jump them, but one of the guards begins to shock him with a device while the other guard sets up something in the background. Both guards exit and slam the door behind them as the madman continues to convulse from the shocks.

    He finally settles down and peers across the room. There is a unique black parrot perched on a resting post. His eyes are circled in yellow.

    Madman: *mutters* Who are you?

    Parrot: Squawk! My name is Robert!

    Madman: *mutters* He must be removed…

    Robert: Squawk! He must be removed!

    Madman: *mutters* Eliminate him from the equation…

    Eerie music begins to pick up as the Madman reaches to the ground for a piece of chalk. The camera reveals a wall in the room that sports a giant mathematical equation. The madman begins to mark on the wall.

    Madman: Eliminate him...

    Robert: Squawk! Eliminate him!

    Madman: Eliminate Haven!

    Robert: Squawk! Eliminate the Haven! Eliminate the Haven!

    |------------------------------------------------------------|​

    M&Ms are being tossed in the air as Haven leans back in a recliner in the Haven Cave. A report plays on a giant screen in front of him.

    Reporter: Crime is at an all-time low here in Smog Town thanks to the tireless efforts of the emerald hero, Haven. It’s the lowest it has been since Black Hawk left the watch of the city to Haven two years ago when he left to assist with Hero Academy duties. Now, with the sudden disappearance of the underground crime lord, Black Skull, the crime rate may dip even lower.

    Haven begins to simply pour the entire bag of M&Ms on his face in a lackadaisical way as many of them do not land in his mouth.

    Reporter: However, there may still be a reason to be on alert as today will mark the first day of the of the city’s first Smog Town Comic Con Spectacular. Here is Police Commissioner Giles, who has a few words about potential dangers this weekend.

    Haven sits up in his recliner and pays attention.

    Giles: We just want to urge the citizens of Smog Town to be on alert as an event of this size could attract hooligans from different areas. There are several people flying in and staying in hotels. Usually petty thieves try to take advantage on such big events. Just be alert and expect a lot of traffic. Heh. Thank you.

    Reporter: In other news, how many cats can Tronald Dump juggle at one time?

    *click*

    The screen goes off as Haven sports a puzzled look. He rubs his chin.

    Haven: What’s a Comic Con?

    |------------------------------------------------------------|​

    The scene shifts as Haven navigates through a giant crowd of people. Several of the attendees are dressed in various costumes. However, one stands out to Haven! It’s the evil villain, Mr. Fiz! Haven tackles him and grabs him by the collar of his half-purple and half-orange suit!

    Haven: Mr. Fiz! You’re supposed to be behind bars! How did you get out!

    Mr. Fiz Cosplayer: Dude, I spent over 100 hours on this suit! Can you get off?

    Haven: What?

    The cosplayer pushes Haven off and walks away with a snarl on his face. Haven realizes that there is no way that was Mr. Fiz.

    Haven: What’s going on here?

    Haven begins to climb to his feet when he notices a black feather on the ground. Haven picks it up and examines it as he stands. Haven then realizes that there is another feather on the ground nearby. He tries to grab it, but the shuffling of feet in the immense crowd blows it away. As Haven tries to catch up, it keeps escaping his grasp. More and more people begin to crowd him.

    Haven: Hey, watch where you are going!

    Suddenly, Haven pushes through the people, but the chatter of the venue ceases. Haven looks around and now finds himself alone in a corridor filled with what seems like an infinite number of doors.

    Haven: Uh, hello?

    A bright light shines down the hall as a figure approaches. A beautiful, draped in white and cyan robes, overweight man with a hairy body emerges.

    Oracle: I am the Oracle.

    Haven cocks an eyebrow.

    Haven: Where am I, popsicle? And what are you doing here?

    Oracle: You... are in the heart of the Haven Cosplay Multiverse where universes are slightly, or significantly, altered in various ways by your most loyal fans!

    Haven: Kinky.

    Oracle: And I……… I………….I lost the party I was with. Do you mind if I hang with you for a few hours?

    Haven: Of course, popsicle! Now, how do we get out of here?

    Oracle: Any one of these doors can be the exit… or an entrance to an alternative reality! The Haven Cosplay Multiverse is vast and endless.

    Haven: *under breath* with virgins. Alright, let’s try this door!

    Haven runs to a door and opens it up. The Oracle follows him in.

    Oracle: In this Universe, Haven is a chick! It’s very important that you don’t mesh worlds as it could have dire consequences-

    We see Haven making out with the female version of himself. Oracle raises a finger, but then walks out the door. 30 seconds later, Haven comes back out while zipping up his pants.

    Haven: Next door!

    Oracle: In this universe, the cowl of Haven was assumed by Hollywood veteran, William Dafoe!

    We switch scenes again to Haven exiting the door while zipping up his pants. The Oracle sighs.

    Haven: Alright, oh SHIT A SPIDER!

    Haven begins to freak out as he swats a small spider off his shoulder.

    Oracle: YOU FOOL! I told you! Anything you take from another universe becomes part of your own! Now this beast will forever roam the lands of-

    STOMP!

    Haven kills the spider.

    Oracle: Let’s move on.

    Haven: Wait!

    Oracle: What?

    Haven: You said that anything I take from one of these Cosplay Universes will become part of my own?

    Oracle: Yes!

    Haven: Dang, I’ve seen some pretty cool stuff already. Hmm.

    Haven reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small compact makeup mirror that says “Property of Female Haven.” He sees himself in the mirror.

    The picture changes to the new-looking Haven.

    Oracle: Nice threads!

    Haven: Thanks! I also picked up something else from another universe! A new finisher! Emerald Kick!

    Haven super kicks the Oracle clean out.

    Haven: Oops. Hey, look, a feather!

    The black feather reappears as it floats and leads him to a door. Haven stops and looks back down the hallway to get counsel from the Oracle, but he remembers that he knocked him out. Haven turns back to the door and enters. The room is dark and the door pinches off the only light shining in.

    Haven: Hello?

    Black and white images begin to flash on-and-off the walls as loud sirens play. Haven grabs his ears in pain as flashes of yellow-feathered eyes keep popping up. Finally, it stops. A spotlight shines on a black-feathered figure with yellow-rimmed eyes. Haven looks up.

    Haven: Black Hawk?

    Robert: Squawk! Precisely!

    Haven: You sound like you have a whooping cough. Do you need to hit up a Walgreens?

    Robert: Squawk! Silence! Haven, the Black Hawk has returned to Smog Town! Your services are no longer needed!

    Haven: Uh, are you sure?

    Robert: Squawk! Never return to Smog Town!

    Haven: Something seems off.

    Again, loud screeching and flashing lights. They stop again.

    Robert: Squawk! Return to a love lost. Return to WZCW, and never come back to Smog Town again!

    Haven: WZCW? Yes, of course. Are you sure?

    Robert: Squawk! Yes! Be gone!

    Haven: I won’t let you down Black Hawk. I know that there is still injustice to right in the WZCW. Can I go back to the cave and grab my stuff?

    Robert: Squawk! No, take this!

    A garage door opens up to the outside. In the frame of the exit is the old Havenmobile with the U-Haul attached to the back.

    Haven: My baby!

    Haven runs over to the old motorcycle and mounts it. He pauses and looks back at the glowing eyes of Robert.

    Haven: You know, I’m still curious how you turned into a parrot and why you have an evil tone about you now, but the burning images in my mind hurt my brain if I entertain those thoughts for too long. Soooooo, I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t trust you. WZCW, HERE I COME!

    Haven revs up the Havenmobile and drives off. The door shuts behind him. Robert leers at the door.

    Robert: Squawk! Eliminate the Haven!

    |------------------------------------------------------------|​

    The sun sets as Haven gleams in his new attire as the Havenmobile cruises on.

    Haven: Look out, WZCW! I haven’t been around in a long time, and I don’t know who my first opponent will be in my return match, but I’ll do my best to bring justice to those who deserve it!

    Haven jumps on the handlebars of the Havenmobile.

    Haven: Oh, and in addition to my new attire, finisher, and RP story arc, I also picked up a catchphrase!

    Haven points directly at the camera.

    Haven: Get ready for some Kickassery! I mean, FUCK THE POLICE! I mean-

    Haven digs through his pockets and finally finds the catchphrase written down among several fortunes from fortune cookies. He reads it and points at the camera.

    Haven: Heels of WZCW, justice is colored green!

    Triumphant music plays as the camera pans back and positions itself looking at the back-hatch of the U-Haul. A soft thud occurs, indicating that someone, or something, might be in there!
     
    #126
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  2. ShinChan

    ShinChan Gone. For. Good.

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    :thumbsup:
     
    #127
  3. Bozzaholic

    Bozzaholic Pre-Show Stalwart

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    ooc: Just a quick roleplay... I'll be writing a backstory over time to go with match RP's... its been 8 years since my last RP so please go easy on me...

    *The scene opens moments after WZCW’s Unscripted pre-show match. We’re backstage and the muffled raw of the crowd can be heard in the WZCW locker room. The place is abuzz with stagehands, crew and talent buzzing around the place getting ready for the main show.

    As everyone beavers away at their tasks in hand, one man’s work for the evening has finished. Carmen Bratchny steps back in to the locker room, wipes the sweat from his brow and contemplates where he will sit. Bags, clothes, pads and water bottles lay strewn across the locker room bench and after a few seconds Carmen swipes his large arm across the wood thus clearing all debris, he then lies on the locker room bench staring at the fluorescent lights above his head.

    Carmen sigh’s before trying to let the buzz of everything that just happened soak in but his quest for peace is soon interrupted as the locker room doors crash open and Swindle McKenzie storms in to the room*


    Swindle: Hey kid… Have you seen this?

    *Carmen barely has time to react before Swindle McKenzie spits out his next sentence*

    Swindle: What a return! What A Re-Turn!!! Some are saying it’s the best preshow WZCW have ever had… Have you seen twitter?

    *Carmen’s head was already a daze but now Swindle has blasted in to the room like an excited terrier, Carmen has now choice but to haul his large, tired sweaty frame from the locker room bench in to a more upright position*

    Camrnen: Huh? What?

    Swindle: Twitter… You know… It’s what the kids do… They tweet

    Carman: Yes… Yes I know what Twitt-

    *Swindle McKenzie pulls an iPhone out of his pocket and starts swiping furiously while muttering to himself*

    Swindle: “Great Return #Carmen #Bratchny”, “Was not expecting that”, “I thought Carmen was dead #wherehashebeen”, etc etc etc

    *Swindle continues to stare at his phone as Carmen begins unlacing his boots*

    Carmen: Yes… It’s good return but you… why you not at ringside

    *Swindle continues to look at his phone, pretending not to hear the Russian*

    Carmen: Swindle… SWINDLE

    Swindle: Huh? Wha? Sorry… I was… err… scouting your next opponent on youtube

    *Carmen’s eyes narrow as there has been no mention of his next opponent anywhere, he knows he’s being lied too

    Carmen climbs to his feet and pulls the iPhone from Swindles grasp thus getting his immediate attention*


    Carmen: Swindle, Why you not at ringside tonight?

    *Swindle’s previous excited demeanor suddenly becomes more edgy. Swindle loosens his tie before taking a seat next to the former Elite X Champion*

    Swindle: Carmen… It’s going to take some time before I can get out there again… it’s been 7 years since I’ve been near a ring

    Carmen: What difference does time? I went out and wrestle

    Swindle: That’s different sport and you know it! You’ve been away from the ring, what? 3 months? Please!

    Carmen: 3 Month yes but other organization very different… tough!

    *Swindle senses that he is getting the upper hand in this argument. Carmen is tired and not thinking straight*

    Swindle: That’s not the point now kid is it? You have spent a year working in the indys, in your little mask as “Maskow” getting yourself in ring shape for your big return, well I got news for ya kid, When you’re a manager it don’t work like that… You think I can just turn on a switch and suddenly become TV ready? No way!

    Carmen: Well I’m sure you remember circumstance before 1 year

    *Swindle suddenly backtracks knowing that while Carmen is tired and usually harmless, no-one wants to cross the line too far*

    Swindle: Yeah… Well… I guess we’ve both had quite the journey in recent years… I’ll give you that

    *scene fades*
     
    #128
  4. Spidey

    Spidey Should've Reinstated The Fox
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    [​IMG]

    Ramparte stirred from the hospital bed. Horrid visions came to him in ample waves.

    Onyx were the tentacles that wrapped around his legs. Smooth and sticky, they crept across his calves in an ascending spiral, leaving ink stains on his skin. They grazed his knees and rested snugly on his thighs. Other tendrils began to form in the eternal pitch that enveloped his dream. They struck against invisible walls, leaving cracks in the nether. The fractals were like spider webs.

    Above him the sky turned pomegranate red. Clouds caressed a dying sun.

    And in the distance he saw a faint silhouette, a mirage of a woman.

    Ramparte: "Otaku..."

    The words came like a whisper, a breathe on the wind. The Recluse struggled to get free from his bindings. But the tentacles grew aggressive. His legs...

    Ramparte: "Otaku!"

    He hollered in pain. The black limbs covered the entirety of his legs now. There was no escape.

    The Recluse was alone.



    [​IMG]



    When he came to, there was a blonde in the room. But it wasn't Batti.

    Eve: "You've seen better days, Ramparte."

    Ramparte closed his eyes, not believing who he was seeing.

    Eve: "Still not a big talker, huh?"

    Ramparte: "The witch's spell is gone. It started to lose its grip a week ago. Since I am all fucked up in a bed and can speak intelligently, I'm sure this isn't good."

    Eve Taylor looked down, finding the right words to say. She seemed to change her mind mid-thought and asked a question instead.

    Eve: "You really care about her, huh? Otaku. You said it repeatedly in your sleep."

    Ramparte: "Where is she?"

    Eve: "Beating the hell out of a snack machine. She wanted to get you Funyuns. She says you like them."

    The Recluse chuckled. It hurt quite a bit.

    Ramparte: "I guess it's time to rip the band-aid off. How bad am I injured? Will I be out for a week? A month? You speak to the doctor yet?"

    The supermodel voice caught in her throat. Something resembling tears seemed to form from her eyes, so she looked away. She took a deep breath, but before she could speak somebody else came in.

    Flex: "Bonjour old friend."

    His old tag team partner waded in with a bunch of balloons. He tied them to the side table and gave Ramparte a gentle pat on the shoulder. Ramparte grinned.

    Ramparte: "Well then. The three of us are all on speaking terms again. I'm a little excited. Is this a Cerberus reunion? The crowd will go nuts. Ramparte Row would sure love it."

    Flex Mussel and Eve Taylor exchanged looks. The bookworm gave a hearty laugh. It made him wince in pain.

    Ramparte: "I feel bad for the men that attacked me now. The Hounds of Hell are the greatest stable in the history of WZCW. It's been a while since the Team Killers had a team to kill, huh?"

    Flex: "Rambo...umm..."

    Eve: "Being the closest things you have to family, the doctor talked to me, Flex, and that Batti girl..."

    Flex: "It's not good, Ramparte. You'll be out for much longer than a week."

    Eve: "Longer than a month."

    The Recluse closed his eyes.

    Ramparte: "Tell me how long I'll be out of the ring. Please."

    Eve: "..."

    Flex: "..."

    It was then that Batti Otaku came in with her arms full of Funyuns. Seeing that Ram was awake, she unceremoniously dumped the snacks on to the ground and gave him a great big hug. A rib cracked, but he was too happy to notice it at the time.

    Ramparte: "Can't believe I'm saying this. It's good to see you Miss Otaku."

    Batti: "Oh Rammikun!!! I brought you all the chips." :)

    Ramparte: "Ha, thanks. So let's not change the subject. I need to know when I can come back and get my revenge on this mystery team. So when will I be cleared? Batti, why don't you tell me since these jerks like leaving a friend in suspense."

    Batti: "Uh...umm..."

    Ramparte: "Oh come on! Not you too. You guys are the worst. I guess I'll have to press a button and get a complete stranger to tell me. Please. It can't be that bad, can it???"

    [​IMG]


    [​IMG]
    Batti: "Okay...I'll tell you..."


    Batti: "You'll never be able to walk again." :'(

    The former tag team champion sighed. There it was. Like a dagger in the heart. Like swan diving straight into Hell itself. All hopes of vengeance completely shattered. There was no good triumphing over evil now. The bastards got away scot free.

    Ramparte: "Wonderful. Guess I had it coming in a way. I've done enough harm in WZCW to last two lifetimes. Then this is it for me. I thank each and every one of you for being by my side for it. Seems I have no other option but to retire."

    His friends fell silent. But even with the devastating news, he smiled.

    Ramparte: "This is still a good ending to my story though. Think about it. Before you guys, I was an antisocial asshole that wanted nothing to do with the fans. I tried getting under their skin even. But now I'll leave the business with people that care about me. Ramparte Row may send me some fanmail that Batti can read to me in my wheelchair. And I'll watch you two be the biggest icons in professional wrestling. Storybook ending, friends. The epilogue isn't so bad."

    Flex looked at him as if fighting to say something, but he couldn't find the words. He grabbed a Funyun bag from the ground and examined it instead. Eve bit her lip. It was the hyper blonde that spoke up.

    Batti: "You don't have to step away. You could manage somebody."

    The Recluse gave her a look, trying to read her mind. She blurted out what she was thinking before he could say it himself.

    Batti: "You could manage me. You know how badly I want to join WZCW!" :3


    Batti to be a part of WZCW?

    Flex: "That's not a bad idea, Ram. The audience would eat up a quirky personality like Otaku."

    Batti: "Fankchu."

    Eve: "It's a tough life, but she's a live wire. And you'd be right there with her. You'd both get what you want."


    He thought it over.

    Ramparte: "Absolutely not. How the hell can you wish her to wrestle while I'm over here with me legs broken? She is too sweet. Too kind. They would eat her alive."

    Batti: "But the people that did this must pay!" :O

    Ramparte: "I don't want to see you end up like me! Okay!? You have so much compassion and a loving personality that WZCW would change you. You hear me? I forbid it."

    She huffed and paced the room.

    Flex: "I'm sorry for the news, Ram. If you need anything I'm a phone call away. Hail Cerberus."

    The gym rat turned to leave. Ramparte put his hand over his heart.

    Ramparte: "Hail Cerberus Always."

    Eve: "Hail Cerberus, Forever."

    The two friends left the hospital. Batti Otaku gathered the Funyuns and placed them on the table. The balloons bounced as the table shook.

    Ramparte: "Batti..."

    She had tears in her eyes. Her sunny disposition was completely gone. He had hurt her. He had hurt himself. But she can't be a part of that life. She could lose more than her ability to walk.

    Ramparte: "I love you."

    She rested her head against his chest.

    Batti: "I love you too, senpai."

    Ramparte: "Promise me. Promise me you will not be a wrestler. Not in WZCW."

    Batti bawled her fist.

    She closed her eyes.

    And all she saw was the two masked men she did nothing about.

    She clenched tighter.

    Batti: "I promise..."




    [YOUTUBE]rG-Fs7de_9o[/YOUTUBE]​
     
    #129
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  5. Spidey

    Spidey Should've Reinstated The Fox
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    I ain't never been known to keep my cool in a sittyation. Reckon that's just my daddy's blood in me. But there come a time a man gotta lay low a bit. Kick his boots up. Light a Marlboro and watch the world burn on its ashes. There just come a time when you gotta let the cattle fight among themselves. Keep the ol' dog at bay. Let em figure shit out on their own.

    Well, I'd like to say this was one of them times. But I'd be a goddamn liar.

    Looking at the grand scheme of it all you'd think I woulda been in the thick of it already. Big boy like me has seen his fair share of bar fights and wild nights. But I am a spectator first and foremost. I like to watch the violence. Let it wash over me like a hot shower on a Sunday night. But there's always that itch, know what I mean? Right after you finish that sixth or so shot of whiskey, it's time to do something rash. Time to make shit a little interesting.

    I been sitting at this fucking bar for over an hour now and that sixth shot done emptied the pistol.

    Time to reload. This gun is ready to go off.

    I done seen me these flashy rasslers with their special little names and their special snowflake havin' signature moves. Real high falutin' stuff. Celebrities with their perfectly done makeup and their high dollar haircuts.

    Pieces of ass taught to wrestle.

    People from all over the globe looking pretty and doing pretty things in the ring. None of these yankees know what real wrestling is. They're all too busy giving their finishers clever names. Everybody is a gimmick now, a damn brand being peddled by fat cats in rich dandy clothes. Nobody knows how to rassle anymore. Nobody knows how to be a wrestler.

    Except me. Stetson Hayes.

    But I don't go by that name anymore. Making a living touring carnivals and school gyms in the southernmost parts of the country has made me the man I am today. I've seen the ugliness the real world gives. None of the glammer. I came from the sawdust-coated floors that made for arena cushioning. I know nothing about referees stopping a match cuz somebody has a bloody nose. Fuck that. I am the realest part of professional wrestling, and I'm ready to make my mark with a Bowie Knife to the neck of WZCW.

    You may call me The South. And you bet your pampered asses I bring the dust storms of Hell with me.




    [​IMG]
     
    #130
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  6. Spidey

    Spidey Should've Reinstated The Fox
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    I don't think ya'll have got the right idea about me yet. Are you expectin' somebody else? Some jumping bean with flashy theatrical nonsense? Ya looking for fangs and spooky poetic hogwash? What the fuck has happened to wrestling for any of you knuckleheads to really want to see that? Christ Almighty. Leave that happy horseshit for the movies.

    I'm the real thing. Grade A Texan. There's nothing exaggerated about me. No strobe lights and fog machines. No goody two shoe drivel and no goddamn puns. When I break your leg in a Texas Cloverleaf, it's gonna be called a Texas Cloverleaf. I want ya'll to know what it is so you can go to your homes and look it up on the internet. Read about it's legacy and add your name to the list of victims. You'll be a part of history. In a way, you should all thank me.

    This blue collar cowboy is, above all else, a teacher.


    There ain't nothing left in this mug. Guess it's about time I headed over to where I need to be. But before I hit the dusty trail, a tip is in order.

    They call me The South. I am six feet tall, and weigh about two hundred and fifty pounds. I'm a father of two and my ex wife smokes more than I do. I'm about forty years old, twenty on a good day. Hands of a construction worker, and the eyes of a truck driver. I can drink like a horse and fight like a bear. But you won't see me act like a crazy in the middle of the ring. Nah. That place ain't meant for the insane.

    The ring is sacred. And you dandies have pissed all over it. Here's a tip...don't think I'm just sitting here for my own health. There's a fight comin'. Be wary. Winds are pickin' up, and shelter will be needed before the night is over. Grab your belongings. Tell your children to duck into the bathtub for safety.

    There's a tornado on the horizon. An EF5 big enough to have a name. Stetson Hayes.



    [​IMG]
     
    #131
  7. Dave

    Dave Here we go, 10 in a row!
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    Flex's LL RP:

     
    #132
  8. Dave

    Dave Here we go, 10 in a row!
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    Batti Otaku's RP:

    She crossed her fingers in hopes that Ramparte didn't see them.


    [​IMG]
    Batti's Prologue

    As The Recluse settled in for a nap, Batti Otaku stepped out of his hospital room and into the lobby. She wiped away her tears and paced around the floor, not caring about the looks she was getting. The unthinkable happened. Ramparte's career was completely over. Ambushed by some upstart group of men. An ironic end to a former member of Cerberus.

    Batti Otaku wavered. She was tearing up. It wasn't fair.


    Ramparte: "Promise me. Promise me you will not be a wrestler. Not in WZCW."

    It wasn't fair at all! Otaku stomped out into the parking lot. She needed to get away...needed to do something. Anything. How could he make her promise that? Doesn't he realize she was stubborn?

    Batti: "Hmph."

    She rummaged through her phone, looking for a specific contact.

    Batti found Mr. Banks's phone number.


    [​IMG]



    The blonde bit her lip. Several minutes passed before her phone lit up and a little jingle played to inform her she had a new message.


    [​IMG]


    Batti: "YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" XD

    The cheery-eyed rookie hailed a taxi and made a beeline for her destination- The Talking Stick Resort Arena, Phoenix, AZ.

    Lethal Lottery VIII.





    __________________________________________________​



    Batti Otaku sighed while she waited in line at The Talking Stick Resort Arena. There were rumors all around her that there would be major surprise entrants this year for Lethal Lottery. Nobody paid her any attention. She pouted and played with her phone.

    Batti: "I shoulda brought Captain Claws with me..."

    She gave the tender her ticket and stepped into the building. It was beyond crowded; people and merchandise clashed together and the blonde couldn't guess which one was which. Otaku wiggled through burly men wearing Vis Imperium shirts. A small child had a Warblade. A group of chatty girls looked like Kagura cosplayers. The whole place was madness.

    And she loved every bit of it.

    The eccentric hopped from one booth to another- savoring the culture of wrestling meeting convention panels. There were a few lesser known stars signing autographs.

    Batti: "OH. EM. GEE. I'm boutta have a nerdgasm from Hell!!!" ^_^

    She tried to keep it together as she remembered why she was there. She had to find an assistant.

    Batti: "The fugg they even look like?"

    She went from one booth to another spastically asking where she can find an assistant. Nobody knew what she was talking about. Dismayed, she started to get the feeling Mr. Sugar Daddy Banks only told her that so she would leave him alone. All she wanted was to defend Ramparte's honor. Was that such a horrible thing to ask for? Batti slumped down into a steel chair and placed her hands over her face.

    ???: "Ohayou! Are you Batti-chan?!?" >_> >_> >_>

    The WZCWeeaboo raised her head. A woman no older than she was addressed her. She wore Victorian Era clothing, and her hair was done up in exaggerated curls. For some reason her eyes were red like blood. Something about the girl made Otaku's skin crawl. She spoke cautiously.

    Batti: "I am. Who might you be?"

    ???: "Squeeee!! My name is Desu Ne. I'm a WZCW assistant. First day, in fact!"

    Batti: "You gotta be shittin' me." -_-

    Desu: "NuUuuU! I'm here for chu, Batti Boo! Let's be friends. I heard you like anime? Tell me...do you also like teh Mudkips?" :3 :3 :3



    [​IMG]

    Batti: "Can I get a do-over? Anybody else, pls?"

    Desu: "What's wrong? Am I not kawaii enuff?"



    She took a deep breath.

    Batti: "Okay. I am being a little rude, sorreh. Rough night. Konnichiwa. I'd love to follow you and get this sitch taken care of." :)

    Desu: "Cool beans! Yeah I get crazy when I see a fellow WZCWeeaboo. Time to be professional, okie day? Come with me, Miss Otaku." :) :) :)

    They escape the large crowds and enter a terminal. Staff with various name tags, headsets, and clipboards walk passed them, not giving them a second look. A few monitors are set up to show what was happening down in the arena. A wrestling match was taking place, but Batti didn't ponder on it too much. They stepped away from the others and entered a short corridor. There was a desk and two chairs. Desu sat on one side.

    Desu: "Okie. Nao time for the questions. Do you have experience in wrestling?"

    Batti: "Umm I worked as a part timer over in BTW." :$

    Desu: "The fuck is BTW?" <_< <_< <_<

    Batti: "Errm nevermind. I wrestled on All-Stars! That was fun."

    Desu: "I have no idea what that is either, kupo. Is that recognized by WZCW?"

    Batti: "...no. It's non-canon." :|

    Desu: "I see." :| :| :|

    She wrote something down on a sheet of paper. A bead of sweat rolled down Batti Otaku's face.

    Desu: "But you did work as a manager for Ramparte. Eck. Bet that was not so kawaii."

    Batti: "He's my boyfriend so..."

    Desu eyes widened and she mouthed "Wow". Batti had to restrain herself from calling the goth a bakka bitch.

    Desu: "Interesting. Well I guess he's got some ookii dinero. Good for you. Well I guess you can get into Lethal Lottery on that. Hell, idk. They really didn't tell mwah what is okay and what isn't in wrestling. I'm new here. So just go over to the curtain and wait for your number to get called up." ^_^ ^_^ ^_^

    Batti: "What's my number?" :/

    Desu: "I D K. Just run out there when your music plays."

    Batti: "What's my fuggin' music???"

    Desu: "I D K that either. Just stand there and something will happen maybe."

    Batti: "You've been a lotta help..."

    Desu "Heyyy don't mention it, eh? : ) I know we'll be best friends one day so don't get hurt out there. Give them a big ol' smile. Nobody expects newbies to win these things so just have fun. Ciao!!!" :D

    Desu Ne left. Batti sighed deeply and placed a thumb and a forefinger over the bridge of her nose.


    [​IMG]

    Batti: "Gads that was irritating. I don't sound like her, do I?" >.<


    Batti Otaku went to the curtain and took a deep breath. This was her time now. She will find out who it was that injured Ramparte to the point of retirement. Batti could hear the fans loudly. Would they cheer for her when she walked out? Did they even know her that well? Everything was about to be answered. She bawled her fist like she did at the hospital.





    Batti: "Alright old girl. This is it. This is the beginning of your story.

    Do it for him.

    Do it for you.

    Do it for them!"


    As the seconds ticked away, she heard the music she used in the SEXBOMB Invitational. It was the same one from All-Stars even. Batti Otaku smiled, and flung the curtains apart.

    Batti: "Lulz I have no idea what I'm doing." XD

    [YOUTUBE]s6cnM4RdP7k[/YOUTUBE]​
     
    #133
  9. Showtime

    Showtime It's Showtime!

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    Scene opens with a vintage black Cadillac Eldorado racing down the highway. The windows are open and the wind breezes into the vehicle. Gripping the wheel tightly and thumping his fingers of the wheel to the beat of “Born to be Wild” is Noah Ryder. He appears quite focused on the road ahead of him as we see in the seat beside him is a notebook field with loose papers. The papers flutter in the breeze flowing through the car and one happens to break free and flutters out of the window.

    ————

    Noah is sitting in front of a small desk. The room is pitch black except for a lamp that is on the table that illuminates the surface. Noah is carefully writing something down on some paper and puts the pen in his shirt pocket when he is finished. He holds the paper up to read it himself and we see the contents of it. “Logan McAllister killed your friend Steven and ran off your girlfriend Jessica. You must get your revenge at Kingdom Come” He takes the paper and puts it in a specific section of his notebook. With his notebook under his arm, he grabs his normal wrestling bag and and oversized duffle bag and heads out of the apartment.

    ————

    Back in the car, Noah eases up on the gas and looks behind him in his rearview mirror. A police car with sirens and lights a blazing is roaring up behind him. Noah pulls to the side of the highway and the cop car roars past him. A deep sigh of relieve escapes from Noah’s mouth as he pulls back onto the highway and speeds up. Beside the notebook, we see the Elite Openweight title belt and underneath that, a revolver.

    ————

    Steven has arrived at home and slowly removes his coat and gloves. He’s wearing a birthday party hat and appears mildly inhebriated. Noah opens the door of his room and steps out into the open. He heads over to the fridge.

    Ryder: Hey, how was your evening?

    Steven: Pretty good. Uh, just got in from a party. It was a lot of fun.

    Ryder cracks open a pair of beers and slides one over to Steven and takes a sip.

    Ryder: That’s good man. Real good. You know, that reminds me.

    Ryder reaches from underneath the table and produces a wrapped present.

    Ryder: Happy Birthday.

    Steven: Oh wow. Thank you.

    Steven casually tears open the wrapping paper and goes to open the box, but stops. He stares at it for a long while, then slowly looks up towards Ryder, not looking him in the face. Steven gulps and opens the box and sees a cell phone, his other cell phone. It begins to ring. Steven grabs the phone and answers it Hello. He looks up and Ryder smashes him across the face. Steven falls to the floor, clutching his shattered jaw. Ryder adjusts the revolver he smashed him with in his hand.

    Ryder: I have it all pieced together, I’ve had it for some time now. Everybody treats me better thinking I’m some simpleton, so I’ve ridden that for about as much success as I can get. You caused me to lose everything, except you and I’ve been dependent on you forever since. I’d be lost without you, or Jessica who hasn’t been in the picture for sometime. How do I explain her absence to myself. You ran off with her. That’s why neither of you are around in my life, and not because of what I’m about to do. By the time we get to New Orleans you and a sweet ride you just purchased with your savings will be deep under water. Farewell.

    Ryder pulls the trigger and then silence after the blast. Ryder puts he gun down on the counter and grabs a pen.

    Ryder: First things first though, somebody else needs to be blamed for this.

    ————

    Noah continues to drive quickly down the highway. He passes a big sign welcoming him to Louisiana. Noah puts on a pair of aviators and cranks up the tunes in his car. The road is a tad bumpy at the moment and we hear the sound of a limp body banging around in the trunk of the car. Noah speeds off into the sunset on his way to New Orleans. Leon Kensworth’s voice is heard in the background.

    Kensworth: Noah Ryder, I think what everyone wants to know is, why Logan? Why him and not…

    Ryder: Everything we do is written down for us. What happened to Logan is no different. A stroke of the pen and he was no longer champion, but I don’t know when I signed that contract. I just know, I wrote down my future as champion, and Logan just happened to be holding it at the time. What I can tell you, is that Logan has made this very personal, for that I am very sure, and I don’t want to get into any specifics, but let me tell you if I see him tonight he’s going to wind up a dead man. I won’t have any problem taking care of that.
     
    #134
    Dave likes this.
  10. Jeff Deliverer of Mail

    Jeff Deliverer of Mail Join WZCW because writing is hip

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    [​IMG]

    BAM!!! Remarkable Mark Keaton here with an exciting new T-shirt from Vis Imperium! For only $285.95 plus shipping and handling, you too can be the coolest kid on the street, dude! Don't be the loser who forgets to go out and buy this thing, it's the cats meow. But wait! There's more! For the first two hundred customers to buy this shirt, you can get a SECOND VIS IMPERIUM T-SHIRT for only $205.13 ! Canadian!

    This ad has been approved by Vis Imperium.
     
    #135
  11. Prince Vee

    Prince Vee Better than I think I am

    Joined:
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    [YOUTUBE]Lnz2Yq7wlfA[/YOUTUBE]​

    Vlad was on his knees with both his hands tied above his head with a duct tape. His head is arched back; he was reluctant to be in that position, in fact, he was forced to arch his head by a Classic Bowie, touching his throat. The sharp teeth of that knife was ready to pierce through his flesh. The man who has gravitated the heartless Vlad is none other than his doppelganger, Vee Adzenhan. Vee has tears in his eyes but his hands were firm in holding that knife.

    Vlad : You can never kill me. That's what differentiates YOU and ME. I am what they say You are not!

    Vee: How you could do just all this to me?


    Vlad: You know the answer, boy.

    [YOUTUBE]9pfnK57nxJQ[/YOUTUBE]​

    Vlad falls on the floor but before his heart stops it's beating, before his eyes shuts close forever, before everything fades completely away, he utters his final words.

    Vlad: Now.... Blood... Is... on your... Hands...


    Vee, with tears rolling down his eyes, looked at his hands. He goes on his knees and palmed his hands to his face and rubs it down only to make his entire face red. But... The blood disappears from his face. So does the body of Vlad in front of him. There's no trace of whatsoever happened at that juncture. Vee removes his hands off his face and looks right into the camera.

    He gave that perpetual grin, the same grin of Vlad. He lets out a maniacal laugh as the screen fades.

    [YOUTUBE]zs9IsYjCrAw​
    [/YOUTUBE]

    ???: Now that's how it'll happen, chaps. That is how Vlad will turn Vee into himself!


    Another Vee appears in front of the camera pointing towards the video clip. He's a bit nerdy though, in his looks, wearing a big pair of glasses and combed down hair and a huge white lab coat.

    Nerdy Vee: You see, Vlad never had any plans to replace Vee in this dimension. His plan is very simple. Turn Vee into Vlad. For those feeble-minded, here I give you an explanation.


    [​IMG]

    Nedy Vee: Vlad is going to slowly infuse all his behaviours and attitude into Vee and slowly turn himself into the person he doesn't expect to be. Apparently, Vlad isn't going to live physically, but will relive the years he lost, mentally and psychologically, against the timeline in Vee's dimension. Vee is not even going to remember any of such events that happened. He's simply going to be VLAD!


    Nerdy Vee adjusts his glasses with a pride on his face but his glasses just disappears in thin air. His expression changes into a shock.

    Nerdy Vee: Ah, bugger! I forgot. Vee never wanted to be a needy scientist. Which means I never exist! But one thing folks, what I've shown you is in the foreseeable future but it May or May Not happen. It all depends! It's just...


    Before he could finish, he vanishes in thin air...
     
    #136
  12. Prince Vee

    Prince Vee Better than I think I am

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    "There's blood in your hands..."

    The old man of Vlad who was tied up in the dark room, a little bemused, when he said that to Vlad who was standing at the corner of the room showing his to his father.

    "You are not metaphorically speaking, are you Father?" Vlad replied back without turning back, but whilst washing his blood stained hands in the sink.

    "No" his father replied back quite simply, but followed, "You can't just jump into another dimension and keep killing..."

    Vlad turned around swiftly; gave a defiant look that startled his father slightly.

    "I've told you, I didn't kill anyone... Yet"

    "Whatever that you're doing is a crime in that world too. You're just getting yourself in trouble"

    "No father, I... maybe be a sinner but the blood will be in his hands" he gave a grin that startled his father more than anything.
     
    #137
  13. Tastycles

    Tastycles Turn Bayley heel

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    A darkened changing room, after Apocalypse. Garth Black is sitting and removing his wrestling attire - kneepads etc.

    Black: The crowd behave like it's a shock that Cooper is 'one of them'. It's been obvious all along. Everything I have said for two years has so obviously been true, but what's the point? You can only shout into the rain for so long.

    I'm the hero the WZCW Universe needs, but I'm not the one it deserves right now.


    He stands up, and walks out of the room, leaving his boots hanging on the clothes peg behind him.
     
    #138
    Hyorinmaru likes this.
  14. Wildcat66

    Wildcat66 DELETE!

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    EXT: A DARK BLACK ROOM

    We are taken to inside a black room, there doesn't seem to be very much light inside as Warzone appears beneath the fog holding what appears to be a wall clock.

    "The doomsday clock...the greatest weapon against civilization. With it's power, it carries the fate of all humanity."

    Warzone smiles at the clock in a rather savage fashion.

    "It tracks down our past sins and misdemeanors to the planet we call Earth; And asks the age-old question...how close are we to the inevitable?"

    Warzone sighs and shakes his head.

    "On some days, it's as late as seventeen minutes..."

    The clock turns to seventeen minutes before midnight, sort of like magic!

    "...On other, it's as early as two..."

    The clock magically turns to two minutes before midnight.

    "...But as far as we are concerned, the inevitable has not happened..."

    Warzone turns his head to the viewers, giving a stern look of alarm.

    "...But if you think that we are safe...we are not. Every day, a new drum beats it's heart to the sound of war..."

    A soft drum beats to the rhythm of a heartbeat.

    "...From Russia to Syria, Turkey to Greece, hell; even North Korea has gotten involved in these games. The games that challenge our fate and thus, the doomsday clock..."

    The drum begins to beat harder, louder, faster.

    "...Yet still the clock continues to play nice and has granted us survival for at least one more day, hoping that one day we as a species can achieve the messiah of happiness; world peace...Even so...If that clock ever makes it past midnight..."

    The drum stops it's methodological beating and Warzone turns away from the camera to look at the clock...

    Then with one arm, he throws the camera up in the end and smashes the clock viciously. Air raid sirens go off as Warzone looks at the damage, he looks at the camera one more time.

    "Welcome to the warzone..."

    Warzone walks away, and all we are left with is the remnants of what used to be the wall clock, broken glass and all as the air raid sirens continue to blare.
     
    #139
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  15. Jeff Deliverer of Mail

    Jeff Deliverer of Mail Join WZCW because writing is hip

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    Backstage Immediately after Keaton's exit from King for Day match at the 10th Anniversary Show

    Several members of WZCW security and referees continued to try and calm down Mark Keaton. He was kicking over garbage cans, pushing people out of his way and yelling that the referee screwed him over. He turned to go back to the gorilla position but a wall of security prevented that. He flipped them off and headed for the V.I locker room, but for whatever reason, everyone prevented him from heading there as well. The security continued to hold and direct the irate rocker towards an exit, Keaton kept roaring that his night wasn't finished and to let him go.

    "HEY!!! LET MR.KEATON GO TO HIS LOCKER ROOM!!!"

    Everyone jumped and froze in place, including Keaton. The voice sounded like a giant bear had just learned to speak. Everyone turned to see a huge figure walk through the crowd. He was a 457 pound goliath wearing a faded blue denim jacked and jeans with little holes and chains all over them. His bald head looked like it was carelessly stuffed unevenly with marshmallows and rocks.

    Big Bad Roady was here.



    "BigRoad, glad you could make it dude." Keaton slapped the big man on the shoulder and gave everyone a dirty look as they entered the V.I locker room.
     
    #140
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  16. Wildcat66

    Wildcat66 DELETE!

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    Time: After Meltdown
    Setting: Backstage

    Backstage was never a friendly place for a wrestler. Everywhere you go, you would always find someone who looked like a threat to your spot, a piranha; waiting to bite after a charade that manipulates the heart and those who just seem untrustworthy.

    But even so, everyone could agree that what happened to Obi Okafor during his match against War Zone was among the most brutal, horrifying squash- no; assaults they had ever since in their careers. And as they watched the medics carry the cold, lifeless and bloodied body of Obi away, perhaps for good; they thought and shivered at the fact that this could have easily been their fate.

    War Zone was dangerous, everyone knew that; but his strength and will to fight on despite insurmountable odds was his downfall. And they exploited it to the best of their abilities. Even so, no one could have predicted the actions of War Zone during his vicious attack on Obi Okafor. On this day, he had cemented himself as the most feared wrestler in the locker room. There would be no man who would come near him and dare mess with him, lest they come out with injuries that stunt careers, permanent scars on the body and mind; and perhaps, never come back at all.

    Except one. The man who had lead War Zone to his first victory in the WZCW battleground, Troy Excellence; while everyone was watching in sheer shock and concern over Obi Okafor's life, Troy was rambling on about how amazing War Zone did and how he 'showed the locker room' what he was capable while War Zone stands victorious, leaning over a wall and nodding to his every word.

    Troy Excellence:
    That right there was some of the finest work from any wrestler i've ever seen! That Kanye West wannabe didn't stand a chance against you, not even for all the feathers and royalty in the world!


    War Zone:
    Yes. The military option against the 'invisible nation' of New Angola has successfully been implemented and the operation to assassinate its leader has gone without fail. It was an honor to serve in the War of New Angola.

    Troy Excellence:
    And what a war it was! You ever hear about this Vade Weltsir guy?


    War Zone:
    (puzzled)
    Vade...Weltsir?


    Troy Excellence:
    Yeah, you know. The most famed and sought after wrestling journalist in-


    Troy stops and catches himself in the moment. He realizes that War Zone is not from this time period and thus would not know who this Vade Weltsir guy is or understand the meaning of 'wrestling'. As War Zone looks on, puzzled at his choice of wordplay; Troy thinks of a way to describe Vade in a way he could understand. Finally, he's got an idea.

    Troy Excellence:
    (Playing along)
    He's one of the great veterans of unstoppable combat. Very powerful for his time, once took out 27 men with one shot.

    War Zone:
    (Intrigued)
    Hmm...impressive. What does he say?


    Troy Excellence:
    Well, he says that the damage done to Obi Okafor was so great; chances are, he may never wrestle again! To make matters worse, he's been forced to resign his role as prince of New Angola altogether as his people are so embarrassed by his (ahem) 'failure' to stop the 'Wicked demon' and his 'Satan touch'.


    War Zone:
    (Takes pride in the news, almost taking delight in the fact that he practically ended Obi's career)
    It seems that the military option has gone down better than even Mr. President could have imagined.


    Troy Excellence:
    Indeed it has my friend. And with my help, you tore down his empire and laid down the groundwork to your very own! The Empire of War!


    War Zone:
    An empire of war...That is an empire I wish to rule.


    Troy Excellence:
    And rule you shall, now that you have General Troy by your side- That is, if you still want me.


    War Zone looks at him bluntly.

    War Zone:
    Enough of the mind games my friend, you have clearly proven to be a worthy adversary and a true leader in combat.


    Troy Excellence:
    (gets closer to him)
    So i'm a keeper then?


    War Zone:
    (slowly pushes him aside, beat; then speaks)
    For as long as you can show me the path to victory, you shall remain my general.


    Troy Excellence:
    Excellent! That's what I like to hear. General Troy and his Ultimate Soldier, War Zone! The unstoppable duo on it's never ending journey to create it's unholy empire of war! And perhaps soon, we can claim what we have been waited for: A badge for our unwavering and undying loyalty to Mr. President.


    War Zone:
    The road to Unscripted shall be long and arduous, but I believe that you by my side; we will be able to win the battle for the badge and cement our legacy in the WZCW battleground.


    Troy Excellence:
    Absolutely! All in all, a good day in the office and you know what that means when there's a good day in the office?


    War Zone:
    Yes. A break to Clippy's. Finest bar in all of America, and the perfect place for the weary soldiers to rest their heads and celebrate the joys of life and connect to one another in a personal light.


    Troy Excellence:
    And that's not all! Remember when I told you I was gonna find a real stunner for you to be by your side along with your's truly?


    War Zone:
    I faintly remember this notion. Why do you ask?


    Troy Excellence:
    Well... (chuckles), let's just say she's on her way here; and if i'm correct, she should be here any moment.


    Then, the two hear of a limo approaching it's way to the parking lot of the arena; Troy smiles with glee as War Zone once again appears baffled by the events occurring right before him.

    Troy Excellence:
    Like now!


    He motions War Zone to walk up to the arena's entrance; despite still showing some confusion, he decides to follow his game to see what he has in store for the Ultimate Soldier. When they arrive, Troy begins to present her arrival.

    Troy Excellence:
    As your general Mr. War Zone, it is my honor to introduce to you; the starlet of tomorrow, the sultan of sultry, the queen of quintessential theatre&#8230;


    Just as Troy is about to open the door, the door opens itself; and as it does, it carries a flashing bright light. This does not faze War Zone in the slightest; as very few things actually do. But he still wonders who could be able to afford to enter in such a dramatic fashion.

    An extremely attractive blonde haired lady in designer clothes looks at her surroundings, abit in a slow and deliberate fashion. She smirks, slowly walking over to the barbaric War Zone and a smiling Troy; her hips swinging as if to tempt any testosterone fueled man to come over to her.

    War Zone:
    And by what name do you go by?


    She smirks at the tank of a monster and backs away slowly.

    ???:
    Deary, I go by many aliases. I can be (gives a wholesome and charming smile) the girl next door you fall in love with, or (nods, rolling her neck around while holding up a &#8216;rock on&#8217; symbol from her left hand) the rebel bitch who doesn&#8217;t stand back from a challenge, or maybe (puts her left hand on her waist and rolls her eyes in an overdramatic, unimpressed fashion) I could be the queen bee at school, complete with a group of drones at the palm of my hand (walks up to War Zone, swinging her hips and walking in a snooty/holier than thou attitude; touching the chest of him in a seductive manner) and the hunky jock who doesn&#8217;t know any better.


    War Zone looks at the busty, curvaceous woman, unsure on how to react. This would be considered an attack; but he knows that hitting a lady is not something prohibited in any army or military. Then, she backs off from him; continuing the demonstration.

    ???:
    Or maybe i&#8217;m the damsel in distress that needs her prince charming to save the day. (Falls faint, putting her hands over her head in a distressed fashion) Help me! Oh help me Superman!


    War Zone:
    (whispering to Troy Excellence)
    What IS this sorcery?


    Troy Excellence:
    (Shushes War Zone)

    ???:
    I can even be your best friend, or if you cross me; your worst nightmare. But above all else, I am&#8230;(slowly extends her arms and leans her hips to the left as she reveals her name in a sultry, lackadaisical like manner) Kimberly Katherine Rollins.


    K.K Rollins smirks at the two, both feeling differently about each the newest member of their alliance: Troy looks on with sheer joy and pride, having shown his client the girl they now partner with. War Zone on the other is just dumbfounded, he&#8217;s never seen anyone move the way she moves; much less a woman. The only ladies he&#8217;s known as the ones that take care of soldiers when they fall ill or get injured. And yet, the way she moves her hips does slightly intrigue him.

    War Zone:
    I must say. It is certainly like no other introduction i&#8217;ve seen before.


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Well darlin&#8217;, i&#8217;m no one you&#8217;ve seen before period. I can take any struggling project and turn it into a blockbuster in the blink of an eye.


    Troy Excellence:
    (To War Zone)
    Yes, not only that; she will serve as our secretary and in cases where I am unable to reach you; be your substitute general. Think of her as the second in command.


    War Zone:
    The second in command...A good soldier must always have more than one opinion to go by. I welcome this news.

    Troy Excellence:
    Excellent! I can already feel it now, The Empire of War&#8217;s path to dominance has begun; and with the three of us together, nothing can stop us!

    Troy extends his arms like a Saturday morning cartoon villain and attempts an evil laugh. But after only a few seconds begins to hack and wheeze, Kimberly comes up to Troy and gently puts her hand onto Troy&#8217;s mouth and lets him breath.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Might want to leave that to the professionals.

    Troy Excellence:
    (Breaths, calm)
    Yeah. Good idea.


    A few seconds of nothing occurs until War Zone breaks the silence.

    War Zone:
    Well, it most certainly has been exciting learning about our newest ally; but do you suppose it is high time to find our way to Clippy&#8217;s?

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Doing her fingernails)
    Yeah, I don&#8217;t want to be kept waiting for a surprise. When Kimberly hears about a surprise, she wants it now.


    Troy Excellence:
    You two, yes. For me? I have a meeting to get to.


    War Zone:
    Understandable. With whom?


    Troy Excellence:
    A man named Milenko, an unusual gentleman who runs his own dark carnival and calls himself great.


    War Zone:
    Ah. I have heard of this Milenko person, yet have not be able to garner contact with him. I wish you luck on your exodus.


    Troy Excellence:
    (Heading out with his bag)
    Oh trust me, if you know me; I won&#8217;t be needing it! G&#8217;night friends, I&#8217;ll check on you whenever I can!


    Troy exits the arena, leaving only Kimberly and War Zone left. Kimberly nonchalantly looks at her new friend, she quietly notes that the place is &#8216;a little drab&#8217; but &#8216;nothing she can&#8217;t fix&#8217;.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (To War Zone)
    Well then, I suppose we should be heading off.


    She holds out her hand in exchange of War Zone&#8217;s, he looks at her hand and slowly exchanges his hand in return. She fails to note War Zone&#8217;s unbelievable strength as she cringes over him holding her hand and immediately revokes her hand, blowing on it.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    On second thought, perhaps now isn&#8217;t the best time.


    War Zone shakes his head and makes his way to Kimberly&#8217;s limo. As he does, he looks at Kimberly with a slight glare of annoyance.

    War Zone:
    Let this be a reminder, you may be our ally; but you still have much to learn about the War Zone.


    War Zone heads for the door out with a slightly irritated Kimberly following suit, rolling her eyes in advance. It is clear that this is going to be a long night for the two of them.
     
    #141
  17. ShinChan

    ShinChan Gone. For. Good.

    Joined:
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    Teaser 1
    ¦Who Am I?¦


    Who Am I?
    I know who am I.
    You don't know though.
    You know why you don't know that?
    No, you don't know that either.
    Because you can't really know everything.
    Because some mysteries remain unsolved.
    Until eternity.
    And beyond.
    Just like me!
    I'm the unstoppable mysterious force.
    You will know that I'm coming.
    However, you'll still fail to stop me.
    You know why?
    Because you don’t know me.
    And you'll never know me.
    Until then, fear me.
    Because this is the calm before the storm!
    And I'm that storm!
    That you won't be able to survive.
    Because I'm the conquerer.
    And you're to be conquered!
    Because I'm the hunter.
    And you're to be hunted!
    Because I'm the destroyer.
    And you're to be destroyed!
    Keep guessing about my identity.
    And keep failing!
    For you'll never know.
    Who Am I?


    ¦_ _ _ _ _ _ _ ¦ _ _ _ _ _ _ _¦

     
    #142
  18. ShinChan

    ShinChan Gone. For. Good.

    Joined:
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    Teaser 2
    ¦Neither A Hero, Nor A Villain!¦


    Neither A Hero, Nor A Villain!
    Why do you want A Hero?
    To love him?
    To get inspired by him?
    No.
    Don't create illusions.
    You want A Hero.
    To satisfy your ego.
    To do whatever you like.
    That's why you make him do what you like.
    Saving your life doesn't make someone A Hero.
    But you do treat your saviour as A Hero.
    Fantasy &#8800; Reality.
    Why do you want A Villain?
    To hate him?
    To learn what you shouldn't do in your life?
    No.
    Don't create illusions.
    You want A Villain.
    To satisfy your ego.
    To stop anyone from doing something you don't like.
    Ending your life doesn't make someone A Villain.
    But you do treat that someone as A Villain.
    Fantasy &#8800; Reality.
    In Fantasy, it's
    A Hero
    VS.
    A Villain!
    In Reality, It's
    Someone who does what you like
    VS.
    Someone who does what you don't like.
    You know what this disguise makes you?
    Like always, you don't know.
    You're a venomous green tree pit viper camouflaged on a plant!
    [​IMG]
    Don’t worry, it won't bite you.
    You know why?
    Because you're more venomous than it!
    Your venom is for your own pleasure.
    You don't need venom for survival unlike that viper.
    But you still use venom.
    To divide humans in Heroes & Villains.
    But I'm not naive.
    I'm not a game to be played with.
    Most importantly, I know you.
    There's no Hero Without Villain.
    There's no Villain Without Hero.
    But.
    I'll always exist without A Hero!
    I'll always exist without A Villain!
    Because.
    I'm The Anti-Hero!
    I'm The Anti-Villain!
    Neither A Hero, Nor A Villain!


    ¦_ _ _ _ _ _ _ ¦ _ _ _ _ _ _ _¦

     
    #143
  19. Lee

    Lee WZCW's Titus
    Staff Member Moderator

    Joined:
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    What's he going to do when he loses the belt? The quote from a podcast in early 2016 still sticks in the mind of our Hall of Famer. What will he do?

    The words echo over black as “Video killed the radio star” can be heard. A phone light brightens the room.

    Titus: No Leon I can't see you today. I am dying.

    Titus Avison coughs loudly.

    Titus: Yes, genuinely. I'll do my interview later.

    Unfortunately for Titus he suffered with the worst disease a man could have. Man Flu. For 10 days Titus was struck down with it. Would he die? No.

    The scene cuts to the Friday before his interview deadline. Titus is feeling fresh and decides to go for a stroll.

    Titus: I'll do that interview over the weekend, what they going to do, release Pokémon Go generation 3?

    They released Pokémon Go generation 3. Titus spent his weekend playing Pokémon Go.

    The scene cuts to Tuesday. Titus is eating a meal.

    Titus: I suppose I can do my interview before deadline as long as something ridiculous doesn't happen like my car breaking down.

    That is exactly what happened.

    Titus: Son of a bitch!
     
    #144
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  20. Wildcat66

    Wildcat66 DELETE!

    Joined:
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    The Day of Unscripted-

    Of course, the question people now ask would be: What happened to War Zone after he went &#8216;Red in Silence&#8217; (what WZCW experts would later call this event)?

    Well, War Zone returned to WZCW, just in the nick of time. He was scheduled for his fatal four way to determine which champion he would face.

    There were many choices for them to consider: He could face Vox for the Mayhem championship and showcase a wave of brutality very few had ever seen, he could face Callie Clark (or as of the time of this writing Matt Tastic) for the Elite openweight title, but such a task seemed to menial to him. Him taking on some prissy rich girl who loved to cosplay? Doing that would look rather silly on a resume.

    And then of course, there was the Eurasian championship: Miraculously held be the vaunted Titus Avion for over two years. Were he to beat him and be known as the man who ended his reign, he&#8217;d be seen as a legend. A god of sorts. No man on the face of the earth would dare want to challenge his hand.

    But that was a distant future that would have to be put on hold for a time being. For now, he had other things to worry about: One of those things being how he was going to deal with Troy and Kimberly. Neither of them being exactly happy with his return after an unexplained absence.

    But while Kimberly preferred to write down important notes in her notepad and paper in her usual nonchalant manner, Troy took things a little more...personally.

    Troy Excellence:
    (Stern)
    Now see here War Zone, You may think you can control your fate around here; but as long as you are under contract, I make the rules. And one of those rules is that you should NEVER go anywhere out of boundaries without my permission unless it&#8217;s really important.


    War Zone:
    Mr. Troy, I apologize for my actions; But I-


    Troy Excellence:
    (Wags finger) Ah ah ah, There are no buts here! You see Mr. War Zone, I run a very tight ship amongst all of my clients. Did Arnie Anderson become a multiple time champion and one of the greatest technics workers of our generation without my assistance? (War Zone tries to answer his question, but Troy interrupts) Of course not! What about Neil Crowe? Arnold Schwarzenegger strongman competitor, can deadlift 500lbs for God&#8217;s sake, would HE have gotten anywhere without my guidance? (War Zone attempts again to answer, but the result is the same) Don&#8217;t answer that one either!

    War Zone looks on, annoyed that Troy continues to interrupt him as he tries to speak his mind. Kimberly watches the scolding unfold, seemingly nonchalant over the whole thing and still taking notes.

    Troy Excellence:
    Now...I&#8217;m sure you&#8217;ve heard all about Mr. Sam Spades and his failed career. You&#8217;ve probably heard the rumors about how I &#8216;dumped&#8217; him once things started getting tough. I will be the first to tell you, that is completely and utterly false! (An unsettling silence falls as War Zone awaits his next words) So, if that wasn&#8217;t the case...Then what went wrong for dear old Sammy? Why did he start off so high yet go out so low? (You can probably guess what happens next, War Zone tries to give an answer; but Troy interrupts him before he can. This time however, he seems a lot more angered) Because he was a druggie, that&#8217;s why! The sleazy sonuvabitch wasted all that poker money he won so he could smoke the pretty lil&#8217; cocaine sticks he&#8217;d always carry around. Waving them around like some sort of pansy five year old who had won the prize in the cereal box, looked like a total dope he did.

    War Zone looks on, baffled at the accusations by Troy. He had heard of Sam before, from the guys back at the gym; but he didn&#8217;t exactly know these details. All he had known was that Sam and Troy parted ways after some time, regardless; the wounds were now out and he was being showed the damage whether he wanted to or not. At this point, Kimberly&#8217;s started to pay more attention to Troy and War Zone&#8217;s conversation; but still portrayed that same look on her face, a look of annoyance and near apathy.

    Troy Excellence:
    I tried everything with that kid, showed him what he was doing wrong I did. I warned him, expressed my concerns, demanded him, begged him, gave him warning after warning. But he didn&#8217;t listen, he didn&#8217;t give a damn about the world around him. Even if the apocalypse were to occur tomorrow he wouldn&#8217;t care, because that was how he was. But the final straw came when I saw the bastard in his locker room, laying flat on his yellow and white ass, passed out with every known drug in the dictionary, terminated his contract I did, cancelled bookings, even told promoters to steer away from the kid even with a thirty nine and a half foot pole.


    Troy softens up slightly, having ranted and raved about Spade&#8217;s apparent drug antics.

    Troy Excellence:
    Now, maybe it is true that I may have had a part in irreparably damaging his career and during his time with Excellence Inc, he was known as a fantastic in ring performer, but I had to think about reputation... (Troy immediately resumes his angered speech) And there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to let a self-centered, entitled, drug smuggling, money gambling, egotistical little PUNK like him ruin everything I had made up to this point in my life! So help you God, I come up to him ever again with ANY of my clients; I&#8217;ll tell them too-


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Deadpan)
    O-kay Troy, settle down. Wouldn&#8217;t want to give you a brain aneurysm in your age, would you?


    Troy looked at Kimberly, having at this point gotten up from her table to calm the poor man down. He had worked up a fever and it had showed from the sweat raining down from his forehead, but as he glanced at Kimberly and saw her smile: As slightly as it was, he eased up and calmed himself down.

    Troy Excellence
    (Calm)
    Look...I got mad at you, because...well, I worry about you. You have all the potential in the world to do great things, god given strength, pure athleticism, an appetite for destruction. All the works, hell; there are things even Arnie couldn&#8217;t think of doing, like what you did to Obi...


    War Zone remembered fondly, his very first win in WZCW and the most carnervous squash match perhaps anyone had ever seen in the company&#8217;s storied history. He practically ended his career because of that one match.

    Troy Excellence:
    But it&#8217;s when you do these foolish things that make worry ao these foolish things that get me all worked up, because it reminds me of what happened to...well, you know. Now, maybe your little escapade had some merit to it; and if it did: That&#8217;s great news and of course, i&#8217;ll always be around to rile you on when necessary. But you have to remember, as long as you&#8217;re under full contract Excellence Inc; You are to report everything to me. Understood?


    War Zone:
    Understood General Excellence&#8230;


    Troy Excellence:
    Good. Now, try to be more careful out there.


    Troy heads out, but not before taking one last look at War Zone; after a few seconds pass, he sighs and makes his way.

    War Zone shakes his head and sighs, muttering about how &#8216;some people refuse to understand&#8217;.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Slightly annoyed)
    What? No thank you or something like that?


    War Zone looks at Kimberly and her near animated expression, arms crossed; and a near pouty expression on her face, complete with puffed up lips. He sighs again.

    War Zone:
    (quietly)
    Thank you Secretary Rollins&#8230;


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Cusps her ear forward and comes closer)
    What was that, I can&#8217;t hear you.


    War Zone:
    (grumbles, louder)
    I said thank you Ms. Rollins.


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Smirks, immediately changing her mood to being sickeningly happy)
    That&#8217;s better! See, that wasn&#8217;t so hard now was it? Come here you, (extends her arms as she comes closer to War Zone; ready to give him a glomping if necessary)

    War Zone:
    Ms. Rollins, what are you-

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    A big strong man like you deserves a special reward for showing his sensitive side now DOESN&#8217;T he? (Flutters her eyes in a cutesy like manner)


    War Zone:
    (Backing away, arms raised like he&#8217;s about to be arrested by the cops)
    Ms. Rollins, if you are thinking about hugging me: I may have to take military action. Please, back away as soon as possible!


    Just like that, Kimberly returns back to her somewhat bitchy self; dramatically rolling her eyes and scoffing. (In case if you wondering how she could go from sweet and cutesy back into her normal self, Kimberly had just executed acting of a character she once played in a TV series called Duffy&#8217;s Got it Tuffy. The quirky adventures of a shy teen girl and her wishes to be popular in school alongside her best friends Kylie and Fozzie, complete with an animated alter ego who isn&#8217;t afraid to express Duffy&#8217;s true feeling. Kimberly was the manipulative cheerleader and main rival of Duffy, Sabrina Rinderstall was her name. None of this was important, but at least we learned something new.)

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Whatever...Not like I wanted to hug you anyway. Didn&#8217;t plan on catching &#8216;male sweat&#8217; fever today anyway. Especially not in these clothes!


    Kimberly pointed to her entire wardrobe, a classy styled grey suit complete with a black tie, white uncollared shirt, a pale turquoise pleated skirt, lavender socks and dark grey heels.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Do you KNOW how much this suit cost?


    War Zone:
    A thousand dollars?


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    More like FIVE thousand, and that was only the cheap suits!

    War Zone:
    Only the- (has had enough of today and changes the course of the topic) Look, Ms. Rollins; I appreciate the thought of me being introduced into your wardrobe fanclub, but I have very important business to take care of. And so do you. Now if you would please excuse me, I must prepare for the battle for the title.


    War Zone starts to head off to near the entrance so he can prepare for his match. Kimberly tries to think of what else she could possibly do to grab his attention. She was not used to people snubbing her advantages in the way War Zone had. There was only one thing she could do. She had to unleash the smoking gun.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Is this about your visit with McCarthy?


    War Zone stopped dead in his tracks, slowly, yet steadily; he turned his head around, stunned that someone like her would even bring something like that up.

    War Zone:
    ...What?


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Oh yeah, I know all about it. You went to some town in Wisconsin named Appleton and went to the grave Joseph McCarthy was buried under and said some random mambo jambo about not believing in yourself or something like that, very nice performance and all.


    War Zone:
    (Amazed)
    How...how do you know this?!

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Poses, right hand on her hips, left arm wrapped around her head; looking at War Zone and smiling in a mocking sort of matter)
    I have my ways&#8230;


    War Zone begins to see what has occurred. He may not have been caught, but he was at least watched: A victim of the C.I.A and surveillance. But surprisingly enough, instead of getting angry; War Zone sighs again, for the third time that night, shaking his head. This is not something of importance to him. Kimberly glances at War Zone and his almost conflicted feel and drops the pose. And for the first time since she first was introduced to War Zone; she seems like a normal human being.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Look man, I get where you&#8217;re coming from. You wanted to go back to where your roots were from, and that&#8217;s great! I give you kudos for that.

    War Zone:
    I thank you for your complimentary words...but I have a feeling I know what comes next&#8230;


    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Troy WAS pretty worried about you&#8230;


    War Zone:
    I understand that Ms. Rollins, but I felt that I had a natural duty to obtain to. And such a duty could not go unanswered. Perhaps I went crossed a line I shouldn&#8217;t have, going absent without leave on General Excellence. But in the end, I had to do what I thought was best.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    ...You know something?


    War Zone looks at Kimberly, awaiting whatever response seemed to come his way&#8230;

    And then, she smiled...and for once, it wasn&#8217;t one her alluring, man hypnotizing smiles she used to flirt with the boys backstage. This was a true-born genuine grin on her face, a smile of respect, a smile of honesty, a smile of goodwill.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    I think that was really honorable of you to do so. The guy really seemed to mean a lot to you, and to come all that way just to go and pay respect to him; that&#8217;s worth more than any movie award I could garner. You&#8217;re a good guy Rob- (catches herself) I mean, War Zone.


    War Zone:
    Thank you Ms. Rollins, it means a lot to me that you believe that.


    For once, all was well in the world of Kimberly and War Zone; for the first time since the two had first met, Kimberly had acknowledged him as who he really was and had humbled herself towards him. And then, the powering voice of Harrys rang out; it was match time.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Well, you&#8217;d better get going. That no. 1 contendership spot isn&#8217;t going to wait for itself.


    War Zone nodded, and with that; the conversation was seemingly over&#8230;

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Oh wait!


    War Zone stopped dead in his tracks as Kimberly rushed over to his side to give him something...something very important.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    Can&#8217;t forget your notes! (She hands War Zone some of the notes she jotted down)

    War Zone:
    Ah yes, thank you Secretary Rollins. I shall use them in good health.


    Now for certain it was over with, the two went along their separate ways and prepared for what was to be the biggest night of the ultimate fighter&#8217;s career. For if he were to win he had the potential to face any champion not named Justin Cooper or Constantine. He was so close to achieving such an opportunity, he could almost taste it.

    There was one other thing he was wondering about...

    War Zone:
    Why do her notes consist of her provocatively kissing an Italian supermodel? (The italian supermodel being Leonardo DiCaprio)


    In the midst, back to where their long conversation had begun and ended many moons ago: You could see Kimberly watching War Zone read her notes. When she heard him recognize her drawing of her and Leonardo making out, she attempted to stifle a giggle; but alas, even an actress has her limits. And as she let loose her chuckles, she had kept the same, humble, relatable, sort-of cute looking smile she had shown a few moments before.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (In between giggles)
    Just like when I was sixteen&#8230;


    Yes, exactly like when she was sixteen. What that exactly meant? None could say for sure, but in the end of the day: All the signs pointed to confidence. Confidence not only brought back in War Zone, but also in Troy&#8217;s mind and Kimberly&#8217;s heart that War Zone would win the Battle for the Title and become number one contender to anyone he so dare wished to face, thus beginning the dreaded Empire of War.

    HOURS LATER

    He didn&#8217;t win.

    But he didn&#8217;t lose either.

    He didn&#8217;t even get pinned.

    He was subjected to a fate far worse than anything of the sort.

    He was screwed over by Yemerez, the damned commie she was.

    And considering how well he responded the LAST time War Zone had failed, there was plentiful reason for Troy to be nervous as he paced across the floor.

    Troy Excellence:
    Oh, this is a disaster! A DISASTER I tell you! All that hard work we put to make War Zone the next challenger to the titles, WASTED!

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Doing her nails)
    I mean...it&#8217;s not like he didn&#8217;t try.


    Troy Excellence:
    Oh, he tried alright. Tried his very heart out there! Doesn&#8217;t change the fact that he was unfairly locked away from what was supposed to be his by that...that snake in the grass Yemerez Reqonic! I tell you, I will go straight up to Mr. Burns and-

    Suddenly, Kimberly puts her hand over Troy&#8217;s mouth and places a finger over her mouth to shush him.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    (Whisper shouting)
    As much as I hate spoiling my new do on my fingernails, you may want to take a look at who&#8217;s coming!


    Troy and Kimberly watched in solemn as they awaited the arrival of their wounded soldier. He was feeling alright, thank god; no real damage on his body. But then again, this was War Zone; he was not designed to feel pain. Even so, this did not stop Troy from being absolutely horrified when he saw him; and he ran up to War Zone like the overprotective mom on the playground, fearing for their child&#8217;s life when they accidentally bump their knee.

    Troy Excellence:
    Oh thank god! Thank god you&#8217;re alright! Listen, I know that this battle ended in defeat; but we can STILL become no. 1 contenders, all I have to do is present a case challenging the ruling of this clearly rigged match; if I can do so, maybe I can convince Mr. Burns to give you a deserved match against Ace and-


    War Zone:
    General Troy...don&#8217;t worry about it.


    Troy Excellence:
    (exasperated)
    D-don&#8217;t worry about it? Don&#8217;t worry about it?!

    War Zone:
    No General Troy, it is not worth being upset over.


    Troy Excellence:
    (Stammering)
    B-b-but what about the battle for the titles! The no. 1 contendership! What about fighting for justice?!


    War Zone:
    (Calm)
    Those days shall come very soon. I promise you that. But until then, we must prepare ourselves to fight another day.


    Kimberly looked at Troy, he had transformed into a babbling, stuttering mess; a far cry from the confident businessman he had portrayed himself as, and she realized this. And so, to prevent any further embarrassment, she held onto Troy&#8217;s hand.

    Kimberly Katherine Rollins:
    I think somebody&#8217;s ready for an asprin and reruns of the Golden Girls. (Looks at Troy, whispers, clenched teeth) Isn&#8217;t that right?


    Troy Excellence:
    But the-


    Kimberly gives him a death stare, forcing Troy to resign to his fate.

    Troy Excellence:
    Oh...alright...I do love me some Betty White after all&#8230;

    Kimberly smiles slightly and she and Troy head off, out of the backstage area and more than likely heading for Troy&#8217;s riverside house. As they made their way, Kimberly stopped and gave one last look at War Zone and smiled at him; once again with that uncharacteristically warm smile of her&#8217;s. War Zone responded with a military salute and the three went off their separate ways for at least one more day.

    True, they had lost the battle for the title, but there was a longer war ahead. The Great Roulette War. The one event of the year that promised to change everything in WZCW, back then War Zone would have been angered at this sudden replacement when victory seemed at the palm of his hands; but because of what Joseph McCarthy told him, every war he would fight from here on in would be nigh impossible for the opponent to counter.

    And may God help anyone who told him otherwise.
     
    #145
    ShinChan likes this.
  21. Remix

    Remix Is a thin rope

    Joined:
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    The bored scout slouches in his chair, making marks on his clipboard. &#8220;I think we&#8217;re done here.&#8221; Everything about the man drips with unearned wealth, the from the tailored suit and gold-plated cufflinks to the received pronunciation with a hint of Oxbridge. A click from his pen as he replaces the lid. &#8220;Agreed, Peter?&#8221;

    An ugly man, currently holding a good looking moustachioed blonde to the mat with a tight hammerlock. &#8220;Yeah, I&#8217;ve seen enough from him.&#8221; A rough sounding voice, as if he&#8217;s smoked a pack a day and gargled gravel for his entire adult life. He lets go of the hold and stands up moving to a corner and sitting on the middle turnbuckle.

    The younger man slowly gets up, nursing his shoulder. &#8220;Jesus you didn&#8217;t have to try and rip my arm off.&#8221;

    &#8220;You didn&#8217;t have to make it easy. Get out of the ring.&#8221; He reaches down, grabbing a half empty water bottle.

    &#8220;Michael, if you could send in the next candidate on your way out. You confirmed your contact details are correct?&#8221; A minuscule pause. &#8220;Excellent, we&#8217;ll be in couch in seven to ten days. If you request we can supply feedback on areas you can work with your coach to develop.&#8221;

    &#8220;I don&#8217;t have a coach, I&#8217;m a bloody pro!&#8221; the now standing blonde retorts hotly, annoyed at how poorly he had performed.

    &#8220;Really?&#8221; The scout looks and sounds surprised at that. &#8220;Well that&#8217;s&#8230; disappointing, all things considered.&#8221;

    Pete has less time for niceties. &#8220;Paying a promoter to book you doesn&#8217;t make you a pro, it makes you a yardtard with money. Get out and send someone who isn&#8217;t a waste of time in.&#8221; He stands again. &#8220;Or am I going to have to evict you?&#8221; Malicious snarl on his face as if he&#8217;s been personally insulted by the green kid&#8217;s ego. &#8220;Please say you want me to evict you.&#8221;

    "Squeak" Not exactly an answer, but his decision to beat a hasty retreat from the ring was answer enough. As soon as the door closes both men start laughing. &#8220;You didn&#8217;t need to be so course in your dismissal.&#8221;

    &#8220;Yeah, I did. If he&#8217;d stayed in the ring another second I&#8217;d have ripped the stick out of his arse and beaten him senseless with it.&#8221;

    Any further talk of Michael is cut off by the doors of the school hall opening and what could only be described as a cartoon character strides confidently into the room. Dressed from head to toe in skin tight black and red fabric and a tiger mask covering his face.

    &#8220;What?&#8221; Pete asks in a flat voice &#8220;Who the hell invited a gimp?&#8221;

    &#8220;It&#8217;s an open try out, as you well know.&#8221; A momentary pause &#8220;and we shouldn&#8217;t think less of him because of it. What one does in the privacy of their bedroom&#8230;&#8221;

    The Tigergimp rolls into the ring as Pete goes back to his corner. &#8220;Good afternoon, my name is Sir Reginald Ken II. In the corner&#8221; He points with his fountain pen &#8220;you will find &#8216;Blacksmith&#8217; Pete Iron. We have been appointed as talent scouts by WZCW at this try out.&#8221; A pause to see if the tiger man understands. A nod is proof enough. &#8220;Please state your name.&#8221;

    &#8220;Blazing Tiger.&#8221; The black and red man states firmly, in a definite East London accent. If he had any embarrassment it&#8217;s not visible.

    He rubs the bridge of his nose for a few moments before looking up &#8220;Noted. Now please state your name.&#8221;

    &#8220;&#8216;Red Hot&#8217; Blazing Tiger.&#8221; No hesitation, just Docklands cockiness.

    &#8220;This is growing tiresome Mr Tiger. We require your name. Your actual name. You know, the one your mother calls you, or I&#8217;m told can be found on such things as your driving licence or passport.&#8221; Reginald has now sounding much more annoyed than he had just a few moments before.

    This draws a snort from Blazing Tiger. &#8220;Mum ain&#8217;t ever called me nothing but a failure. My name is Blazing Tiger. If you&#8217;ve got a problem with that Reggie, get in the ring and say it to my face.&#8221;

    &#8220;In this suit? My dear feline, I don&#8217;t think you lack appreciation for fine craftmanship. If your mother never taught you to appreciate the finer things in life, then I dare say that not only are you right, but I'd posit she never loved you." He keeps his eyes locked on the red and black striped man before him, looking for the slightest reaction to his maternal insult. Nothing. Interesting. "Who on EARTH sewed that outfit? A monkey with a Singer?&#8221; he brushes some imaginary dust off the suit.

    &#8220;I did. I weren&#8217;t going to hire a professional to make it. I ain&#8217;t got a flat right now let alone the money for that.&#8221;

    &#8220;I beg your pardon; did you just say you&#8217;re homeless?&#8221; For the first time this afternoon he sounds downright interested in this applicant.

    &#8220;You heard me. I made a choice &#8211; put everything I got into this, or live cheque to cheque on zero-hour contracts until I fuck up and top myself. It was material or rent. I got enough friends to drift for a bit so it weren&#8217;t a difficult choice.&#8221; Tiger climbs to the second rope leaning over and looking Reginald dead in the eyes. &#8220;When I say there&#8217;s no one behind the mask take my word for it.&#8221;

    &#8220;Very well Odysseus. I believe I&#8217;ve heard enough. If you would turn your attention to Pete the second phase of this try out will now begin.&#8221;
     
    #146
  22. Spidey

    Spidey Should've Reinstated The Fox
    Staff Member

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    Frank Vanilla adjusted his black speedo when they called his audition number.

    The room was the size of an auditorium, with a man and a woman sitting in wooden chairs facing a round stage. On the stage was a prop wrestling ring, complete with paper machete ropes boxing the large circle into a square. Frank Vanilla stood uncomfortably in its center and gave them his name and where he was from.

    Brittany: Hello Mr. Vanilla and thank you for coming in. My name is Brittany Lariat and I&#8217;m here with director and acting coach Johnny 6. You may know him from his work with some of WZCW&#8217;s most notorious stars.

    Frank: Very nice to meet you both. I&#8217;m a fan of your work, Mr. Six.

    Johnny scoffed quietly.

    Frank: Something wrong, sir?

    Johnny 6: You say like word. It 6, 6 like number. And you say whole name.

    Vanilla apologized.

    Britttany: We have a few roles that need filled for an upcoming house show. They&#8217;re jobber parts, but as they say in Hollywood, there&#8217;s no such thing as small roles. Is this okay with you, Mr. Vanilla?

    Frank: That&#8217;s fine. I didn&#8217;t expect my name in lights or anything.

    Brittany: Good. You&#8217;re already aware that the character we need is named Flip Vigilant, but we were thinking of giving him a bit of flavor, as they say in the business. Are you comfortable playing a recovering cocaine addict who has turned his life over to Jesus Christ?

    Frank: I umm I think so. Will there be a Satanic dude I can bounce the religious stuff off of?

    Johnny 6: No.

    Frank: Alright will there be a drug dealer that could play foil for my addiction?

    Johnny 6: No.

    Frank: Not sure how I can make that work.

    Johnny 6: It work well, trust Johnny 6. Stay vigilant, Vigilant.

    Brittany scratched something down on a sheet of notebook paper. Johnny 6 wrung his hands as Frank Vanilla shifted from one foot to the other.

    Brittany: We also have a spot open for a patriotic character.

    Frank: Oh that sounds like fun! I could fight a Russian bloke who could knock me out and drape his flag over me. Or maybe someone from the Middle East. Those kinds of fights always bring in a crowd.

    Johnny 6: No Russian or Iraqi Arabian parts in show. We have USA versus USA that don&#8217;t do USA as much as Eagle Freedom Boy.

    Frank: &#8230;are there any characters I can play that would go well against another?

    Johnny 6: Vigilant is jobber. Take hit, fall down. Pin. Crowd mad. Get paycheck.

    Frank: Yes, yes that&#8217;s fine. But I am an actor and need to act, right? I have experience in one-man shows in Los Angeles and I&#8217;ve played a corpse on Criminal Minds. Character work is what I do. This is wrestling, is there a way I could play somebody that does more than get kicked around?

    Johnny 6 stared at him for a long period of time.

    Johnny 6: Jobber gets kicked around. You know what jobber is, yes?

    Frank Vanilla sighed.

    Frank: I know. Just thought maybe I could give the audience a reason to care that I get beat up is all.

    Brittany: We appreciate that enthusiasm, and we do like your Look. But it&#8217;s incredibly hard to make them sympathetic when you&#8217;ll be in the ring for only a minute.

    Johnny 6 clapped his hands loudly, making the pair jump out of their skins.

    Johnny 6: We give him girlfriend!

    Brittany: Wow brilliant idea, Mr. Johnny 6! My wife is an actress and would be happy to get a gig as a valet. She needs the exposure.

    Frank relaxed.

    Frank: I think that&#8217;d be fine. Maybe if they see Flip&#8217;s girlfriend cry as Flip gets pummeled, they will feel sorry for her and hate the bad guy even more. I can work with that.

    Johnny 6: No not you, Vigilant. Bad guy gets girlfriend. Make him brutal fighting sexy machine. All the rage in big promotion. Girlfriend better than evil dark superpower. Flip Vigilant gets kicked around. You&#8217;re jobber and nobody care. No need Marlon Brando in tightie whites.

    The actor looked down at them in disbelief. Having had enough, he climbed out of the fake ring and was on his way out the door.

    Frank: Thank you for your time, but I don&#8217;t think I am what you&#8217;re looking for. I want a part with depth. Something that would make the fans cheer me on even if I&#8217;m in there for a moment. I don&#8217;t have to win, but I want them to care, you know? Maybe even clap for me as I&#8217;m down on the ground. Maybe have room to grow into somebody who wins and the place erupts. A jobber is fine, but what is a jobber if he doesn&#8217;t get a reaction? I just want them to root for me, even if five minutes later I&#8217;m forgotten about.

    Brittany whispered something into Johnny 6&#8217;s ear. He nodded, stood up, and pointed at Frank Vanilla.

    Johnny 6: Okay. We make you heel. You&#8217;re hired!
     
    #147
  23. FlexAmerican Dynamite

    FlexAmerican Dynamite RIP Cooper's Title Reign

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    The Oscars are nothing but a bunch of rich Democrats fooling you into thinking they care about the common man's problems, don't be a fake actor living a fake lie, believe in your King and Make America Healthy Again


    Maria: For the last time I am not stepping down as the CEO of Flex Fitness, and I will not be commenting on any false articles from unreliable sources!

    The lone female member of the Mussel family can be seen hanging up her cell-phone in a fit of anger as her fiance Charles “No Longer the Cheesecake” Chesterfield rubs her shoulders. The couple is at a round table in an office impatiently waiting for both a mediator and Flex.

    Charles: Just try to relax baby, we need to be focused before he gets here.

    Maria: I’m trying but all week reporters, coworkers, and even executives have been harassing me about this CEO situation, thanks to Flex everyone thinks I’m about to be out of a job.

    Before Charles can even respond he sees Flex’s assisant Suzius Maximus walk in front of the clear glass door. She’s currently on the phone but both her and Maria stare holes through each other. Eventually Maximus looks away as her phone conversation looks to be important.

    Maria: It’s her, she’s the problem, there’s something about her we don’t know.

    Maximus: We have to make sure they both don’t know. If either of them find out then the whole plan is compromised. As long as I can keep Flex in check Maria won’t be able to stop us. Hold on, I think he’s coming around the corner, we’ll talk soon, stay safe.

    Maximus ends her phone call as the monisuer of muscle can be heard complaining around the corner. Once he makes it to his assitant the focus of his disdain becomes clear.

    Flex: The uncultured swine that my sister has hired in my absence is atrocious.

    Maximus: Doesn’t surprise me, her lack of taste is evident in everything she does.

    Both Flex and Maximus turn to look at the soon to be newlyweds who in turn are already staring at them. The pairs continue to stare each other down until the Mediator walks past Flex and Maximus and into the office room signaling for them to enter. As they do they take seats opposite of Maria and Charles and the meeting starts to get underway.

    Mediator: Hello everyone, I’m the executive appointed mediator here to sort out whatever trouble we have here, nice to meet all of you. Now I don’t want to waste any of our time here, so let’s get right down to the problem.

    Flex: Maria needs to step down as the CEO.

    Maria: Not gonna happen.

    Flex: Then you shall be cut away from the company like a cancerous sore on a healthy bosom!

    Maria: Why are you talking this? No one talks to like this!

    Mediator: Both of you calm down and relax. Now Flex, why do you want your sister to step down?

    Flex: She has no business experience and was simply appointed by executives because she shared my last name.

    Maria: Stop acting like you’re some college educated philanthropist you didn’t even make it to highschool!

    Flex: Yet I still managed to create a billion-dollar company from nothing, like a true KING!

    Charles: Put your ego aside Flex!! While you were in a coma your sister not only kept this company afloat but she propelled it to new heights.

    Flex: The only heights you’re getting to is through the use of marijuana as you both must be smoking something if you think I’m sharing the CEO privileges! A KING does not share!

    Maria: Funny, I seem to remember you sharing a win on Ascension.

    Flex: SILENCE CHILD!!

    The bodybuilder stands up and slams his hands down on the table alarming everyone except Maximus.

    Mediator: Flex you need to-

    Flex: KING MUSSEL!

    The Mediator looks to Maria, Charles, and Maximus and realizes the fitness freak is not joking when he commands this greeting.

    Mediator: Okay, King Mussel, you need to calm down. I was sent here by the board of executives to find a solution to this problem, and if we don’t the board may decide to get rid of you both.

    Flex: The executives wouldn’t dare touch the throne that I have built!

    Maria
    : This is ridiculous, he obviously still has brain damage from being put in a coma, he is in no shape to lead this company!

    Flex: I am in the best shape of my entire life!!

    The humble King begins to flex and ends up ripping part of his suit, this doesn’t phase him at all as he feels his point is proven.

    Mediator: If neither of you want to step down, and you can’t coexist as Co-CEO’s, I’m afraid I don’t see this going any farther, I must inform the executive board.

    Flex: Well inform the board I plan on taking Maria to King’s Court and earning my rightful position back.

    Mediator: Are you saying you plan to sue the company?

    Flex: I plan to use royal law to unseat my sister, the company should have nothing to worry about it, no tabloids, gossip sites, or anything will be notified, consider it an inside job.

    Maria: What the hell does that even mean?

    Mediator: As long as it will be worked out away from the public eye, the end result is of no concern to the board, keep things cordial and public and inform me when things are settled, have a good day.

    The mediator leaves as both Flex and Maximus begin to leave until Charles lunges between them and the door.

    Charles: Listen to me Flex!! Can you not see that we love you? I’m your best friend and Maria is your sister. There is no reason we can’t run this company together. Why are you doing this? Because of her?

    Charles points to Maximus who raises her nose to him like she is above any response at all.

    Flex: You stopped being my best friend the moment you slept with my sister. And she stopped being my sister the moment she tried to take credit for all that I’ve worked for my entire life.

    The bodybuilder turns around to look at Maria.

    Flex: Step down or you will be forced down.

    Both Flex and Maximus walk past Charles and exit the room. They continue walking down the hall defiantly until Flex breaks away needing to go the bathroom. He is very calm and composed until he enters a stall and immediately begins hyperventilating. Sweat pours from his forehead until he reaches into his pocket and takes out a snickers bar. He devours it in one bite and after a few seconds his demeanor becomes calm again. A few moments later he exits the bathroom like nothing happened as he and Maximus begin to exit the building.

    LATER THAT DAY

    Flex can be seen bench pressing a cow in his basement as Maximus spots him. A notification alert goes off on her and phone and she proceeds to check it.

    Maximus: The match card for this round has been posted it.

    Flex: Who is my next victim?

    Maximus: No one, you don’t seem to be booked.

    The current FlexAmerican champion sets the cow down and begins milking it over a bucket in frustration.

    Flex: Not booked?! Management would be idiots to not have me on every WZCW show, they’re probably afraid to book me against Blades. They’d know I’d cripple him and ruin their main event, what cowards.

    Another notification alert goes off on Maximus’ phone.

    Maximus: Interesting, it seems like you’ve not been booked because you’ll be the mystery opponent for one Titus Avision.

    Flex: Upon whose request?

    Maximus: Constantine it seems, Becky Serra has granted it.

    Flex: This man acts like he’s head of creative, I’m not going to do his dirty work and soften Titus up for him.

    Maximus: It seems like he thought you might say that, he said in this email should you go through with the match he will be putting you in touch with a very successful and vicious lawyer, he heard you might need one.

    Flex: Who is it?

    Maximus: Someone named Sam Smith.

    The fitness guru begins chugging the bucket of newly milked dairy as he ponders the offer.

    Flex: Tempting….but that’ll still be a no.

    Maximus: You’re usually not one to back down from a challenge. You scared?

    Flex: Why on God’s green Earth would I be scared of Titus?

    Maximus: He seems to be the one person you can’t defeat.

    The monsieur of muscles laughs so hard at the statement that milk shoots out of his nose and onto the cow in front of him. Annoyed the cow tries to saunter away but Flex grabs it by the tail not allowing it go far.

    Flex: Let’s get a few things straight here: the first time me and Titus faced off I was battered man and he still could only retain in a draw. The second time he did not defeat me he survived, only due to my once idiotic need for fan adulation and trust me, none of those circumstances will happen again.

    Maximus: Then why don’t you prove it and beat him this time?

    Flex: Because I just don’t care, not about Titus, not about Constantine, not about anyone that’s not Tyrone Blades, Batti, or whoever the hell is World Champion. Times have changed, and I do not care to chase myths and legends around. Do you know why all these people have failed to take away the Eurasian title from Titus? Because they get wrapped up in trying to be the first man to accomplish something in which no one will care about. Titus has been champion for as long as I can remember, and regardless of who beats him they will have the unfortunate task of indulging in a forgettable reign that will pale in comparison to his. Everyone thinks they’ll be different from the last guy he’s faced, and everyone thinks they’ve got what it takes that the last guy didn’t. It’s a rinse and repeat formula that’s even more tiresome than the boring performance Titus’ gives on-screen.

    Flex pulls the cow back to him against its will and begins milking it again.

    Flex: I’ve faced Titus already, he knows me and I know him. You want me take this match so bad? I will, but it’s not because I have some insecurity I need itched, it’s because I plan to send a message. I don’t give a damn about the Eurasian title, I already hold a championship that is much higher in prestige than him beating the same people over again can ever give him. In fact, I don’t care about any accomplishments of his at all, because he isn’t facing legend killer Flex, hell he isn’t even facing someone that cares about winning, I plan to hurt Titus. I plan to show the world that when you disrespect a King you will pay the price, it’s what Batti learned when I power bombed her repeatedly, it’s what Titus is going to learn when I face him, and it’s going to be what Tyrone learns if he ever takes his balls out of Batti’s purse and decides to man up.

    The bodybuilder stops milking and the cow and proceeds to chug the small amount of milk forced out of the utters while still holding onto the cow’s tail so it can’t escape.

    Flex: Titus is a man going through the motions until he gets to his next defense where he’ll coast off being the longest reigning champ and continue a reign that’s as predictable, nauseating, and fake as any award show where he was given an Oscar. I’m a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain, and I’m only going to continue destroying everything in my path till those jackasses at WZCW headquarters realize I deserve the World title.

    Flex tosses away the bucket and begins bench pressing the cow again as Maximus develops a devilish smirk on her face
     
    #148
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  24. Spidey

    Spidey Should've Reinstated The Fox
    Staff Member

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    Mike's Bar
    Fort Worth, TX
    The Night of Kingdom Come IX


    It was over. Constantine did the unthinkable and took the title from Titus, with it the 951-day reign. Everybody close to the TV monitors whooped and hollered ecstatically, buying other random barflies another round for the new champion. A big moment in pro wrestling just occurred. There was loud and excited conversation everywhere.

    Everywhere that is, but the table at the corner of the bar.

    Stetson: Pfft.

    Stetson Hayes downed his whiskey and motioned to the waitress. She paid him no mind, either he was drowned out by the rave party the Texas dive was turning into or she was ignoring him altogether. What ever was the reason, the cowboy placed his hat on the table and got up from his chair.

    The bar itself was crowded, but manageable. Wednesday was never this popular at Mike's. Things were changing all around the country boy, and it made him uneasy.

    Mike: What'll it be, South?

    Stetson: ...don't call me that. I need a Jack, and from the looks of it I'll need a double.

    The bartender readied a short glass, pouring two shots of liquor in front of him. Satisfied, Michael slid the drink to Hayes.

    Mike You celebratin' history tonight? Heard you wrestle sometimes yourself. Gotta be happy to see it's still popular.

    Stetson: I'm in mournin', Mike. Let me grieve in peace.

    With that, Stetson turned from the counter and went back to his table...where an old flame greeted him.

    Angie: Howdy, South. What's eating at ya?

    Stetson: Angela, why you gotta haunt me here in my dyin' moments? Can't you just leave me alone so I can get on with my fuckin' Will writin'?

    Angie: Drama queen. I saw you out in Plano makin' that tall feller tap out. Good match. Why you ain't surrounded by these other rednecks toasting ol' Consty? Burr under your collar?

    He nodded, and drank. She rolled her half-empty beer bottle from one hand to the other, waiting for him to explain himself. She knew he had no patience. He sighed.

    Stetson: The only place in the world you can see people for who they are is inside that ring. Ain't nowhere else on God's land you'll see a crazy turn coward, or a coward turn crazy like you do there. And from where I'm sittin' it appears that these glory goblins have all gone mad.

    He finished the Jack and audibly sat the glass down. From the other side of his hat, there were four other empty glasses.

    Stetson: Why do ya need to name a wrestling hold anything other than what it already is? You think a man is gonna care what little name you give your little kicks or your little top rope jumping jacks? They ain't. This is rasslin', where a man discovers what he's made of when the bell is struck. And this, this shit I see here-"

    Gesturing at the television, fireworks blasted from all corners of The Camp Nou.

    Stetson: This pisses me off. It wudn't stupid before. Now we've got rockabillies and geishas and a goddamn mafioso tuggin' at his pecker where that champ'nship used to be. Why they rasslin'? What sick twist of fate led these poor souls to give each other sweaty headlocks each week? I can't take it. No ma'am, I can't take it.

    Stetson Hayes got up from the table, clumsily reaching for his empty cup. The bartender noticed.

    Mike: 'Think you've had enough, South. I'll get you an Uber.

    Stetson: I said don't call me that, you mosquito lookin' fuck! No toothbrush havin' anomaly. I-I'd rather get picked up by the damn pigs then to deal with some stranger makin' small talk and rev-reviewing me at the end of my travel. ME! What kind of Mickey Mouse nippled hell is this world comin' to when the customers'err the ones getting crit-critiqued?!? Nuh-uh. I'm gonna go walk. May...may walk my tired ass all the way to WZCW HQ, who knows...

    Stetson Hayes staggered out of the bar and into the parking lot. Angie followed behind, and she caught his eye.

    Stetson: Ain't there a trough missin' your face right now?

    Angie: Jesus South ain't gotta be so rude. Just thought to tell you you may have had the one bright idea you'll ever have. Wrestling needs one of them ground roots types, and you could be it. Make people 'member the old days.

    Stetson: Yer an old day...

    Those were his last words as he passed out in front of Mike's Bar.
     
    #149
  25. Dan Severn's Moustache

    Dan Severn's Moustache Patent Pending

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    The flames from the TV screen reflected from Viktor Petrov's goggles as he watched, somewhat vicariously, and yet, still in a state of awe, the man he once counselled, Harald Var Krigare, plunge his only cohort in his short WZCW career, Blazing Tiger, through a burning table, incinerating both the man, and indeed, the friendship the felines, both lion and tiger, had forged in a pact to eliminate Randy Studd.

    Viktor couldn't bear to see such agony. He turned his attention to the audience who watched Harald, and visibly recoiled at the audience before him. They cheered, they chanted, and they celebrated a man's potential death before their very own eyes. How could they relish such horror? What was their limit, their threshold? Was it to see themselves, or their own loved ones engulfed in the bloodstorm? Was it the degree of violence? Or was it these people, this audience, craved nothing but violence, brutality, potential fatality as the tiger blazed before his eyes?

    To his relief, Viktor saw he was not the only one who felt that way. Many audience members gasped, turned away, or covered their children's eyes as the Tiger was set alight, writhing in pain all too similar to himself, as the incisions of Chernobyl, his own fire sermon, began to incise into him once more, like a torrent of anthrax spores in his skin.

    And then the worst of it hit him. It was because of Viktor...no, it was because of Fallout, that this happened in the first place.

    Fallout: What have I done?

    He had sounded the trumpets of Jericho. He had released an apparition even Lovecraft himself could not foretell. The blood of Mancini, Vega, Stevens and Tiger, all ultimately lay on his hands. He had awakened a horror even Cthulhu itself would cower at.

    The kraken, in its omnipotence, had been released.

    Viktor struggled to keep watching, but he ultimately knew he bore the burden for what he was responsible for, and therefore, it was his responsibility to analyse the fruits of his labour. He saw Vega fall. He saw Mancini fall. He saw not only a championship change hands, but indeed, a man and his audience's values, change hands.

    Viktor could stand no more. He promptly turned off the television and reached for a hand mirror to his side, and gazed at the one who looked before him, the one ultimately responsible for the havoc that had occurred at Kingdom Come. As he looked at his own mask, Fallout stood immobile, distraught, and in a rarity, in agreement with Viktor Petrov.

    Fallout: What the hell have I done?
     
    #150

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