Unscripted: Titus Avison (c) & Tyrone Blades vs. Vis Imperium [Eurasian Championship]

Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Da Prophet, Nov 5, 2017.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. Da Prophet

    Da Prophet Mid-Card Championship Winner

    Dec 12, 2009
    Likes Received:
    Since his return last year, Tyrone Blades has sought to create chaos for WZCW Owner, Mr. Banks. He has disrupted matches, segments and destroyed property. Finally, it will come to an end one way or the other. Blades’ quest has dragged in long-time Eurasian Champion, Titus Avison and in a unique circumstance, Titus will defend his singles championship under tag team rules. Going up against Vis Imperium, a faction endorsed by Banks, consisting of Mark Keaton and Xander LeBelle, the fans will decide the overall stipulation. Either Blades’ career will be on the line or Vis Imperium will be forced to disband if they lose. No matter the voting result, this feud will cease to exist after Unscripted. The time has come for either Tyrone Blades or Vis Imperium to fall on their sword; who will it be?

    RP Deadline Tuesday 14th November 23:59 (Central).

    Extensions available upon request.
  2. Lee

    Lee Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it's Supermod!
    Staff Member Super Moderator E-Fed Mod

    Jan 9, 2007
    Likes Received:


    * PYRO *
    * PYRO *
    * PYRO *
    * PYRO *
    * PYRO *

    The camera pans around the Isidoro García Stadium in Mayagüez Puerto Rico where thousands of fans have packed into the building ready for an exciting night of wrestling. The camera transitions to a shot of the announce table where our famous team is standing by.

    Copeland: Welcome to Meltdown. We're here to see the aftermath of Unscripted where everything is up in the air.

    Cohen: That's right Seabass. Unscripted was truly Unscripted and there's not much we can add to it but to see what they have to say for themselves.


    Copeland: This cannot be happening.

    Cohen: It is.

    The crowd is almost silent. No cheers. No boos. Just bewilderment. Tyrone Blades makes his way out to the ring looking rather sombre. He passes down the ramp, you can almost hear a pin drop and it must be one of the longest walks in his distinguished career. He makes it to the ring and walks round, he looks at Copeland and Cohen. They nod at him. He grabs a microphone from Truman Harrys. He sighs and takes a deep breath and climbs up the steps. He looks around the whole arena. Still the crowd don't know how to react.

    He enters the ring. He stands in the middle. A small chant starts. Ty-rone. TY-rone. TY-Rone. Ty-ROne. TY-RONe. TY-RONE! The crowd chant to the hall of famer. He smiles. He picks up the microphone.

    Blades: I can't believe it's come to this. For eight fucking years you've had blood, sweat, toil and tears from me and last night well I...

    Suddenly the Twentieth Century Fox fanfare can be heard around the arena. Blades smiles as he turns to the titantron. The fanfare stops. It's not as he or anyone else expects.


    Out steps Vis Imperium representative Andrew Adonis. The crowd seem to cheer for him as he walks down the ring with a swagger. He talks as he approaches Tyrone Blades.

    Adonis: I expected nothing else from you. After last night I expected we would never see you again but here you are in a WZCW ring. I know, as well as you, that this crowd have long given up on you and your Hollow One concept. So come on Burna, it's time for you to go. Allow me to sing a song.

    Adonis needn't carry on. The crowd quickly turns on Blades as they sing to the Steam and Bananarama classic. Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na hey hey, goodbye! Blades just walks out and goes, humiliated he leaves behind WZCW. His hall of fame legacy, his huge World title reign and everything else in between.

    Adonis stands in the middle of the ring.

    Adonis: Now, ladies and gentlemen it is my absolute pleasure to welcome my friends and colleagues in Vis Imperium. So please put your hands together for the NEW EurAsian Champion...


    It's dark. It's always dark in the winter but this is the first day I've noticed just how dark it is. I look at my alarm clock and switch it off. I can't believe it happened. I look at the date. November 16th. I switch the light on. I see it there on the table. My pride and joy. Day 722.

    I can't get the thought of my mind. What if it was true? I get in the shower but make sure the camera just shows my face getting wet. If you want to see my penis it's there in 2 of my Oscar winning movies. I think the thing that stuck me the most was Blades. Poor Blades.

    It hadn't hit me until then. For my entire career I've put myself first. I've seemingly fought for others at times but deep down it was always about me. I remember the Kingdom Come match against the Apostles of Chaos. The story was me and KO in my head but Blades was on the other side. He won. He was doing the Vis Imperium before Vis Imperium did Vis Imperium. I knew I needed to stop them because putting WZCW ahead is better for me. I failed.

    Years later I'm at the same crossroads. Banks and his mob running riot and I needed to stop that. That's how the alliance was formed. It's why the alliance was forced by me. The thing with an alliance is it is that. A partnership. A family. There's absolutely no way can I allow the man who took on every comer for over a year to go out to a song by Bananarama!

    This is not just Titus Avison v Vis Imperium for the EurAsian belt. This is more. This is the team who vowed to take over the company. This is a team who have thrown out their original members. This is a team who have moved on from who they originally were. This is a team that seems unstoppable. A team who had their leader beat me last week. A team who have made my life a misery for the last month. A team who want that belt more than anyone else. It's more than that.

    This is not just Tyrone Blades v Vis Imperium for his career. This is more. This is the man who vowed to stop the take over of the company. The man who lost an ally but gained a friend. This is a man who has not lost focus of his goal. This is a man that not only seems unstoppable. He is. A man who has beaten me a number of times. A man who has made Vis Imperium's life a misery. A man who wants me to...

    I stop. Pause. It hits me. Tyrone Blades cares more about me keeping my EurAsian championship than I do about him keeping his career. I can't have that. He's a friend. We've had history. He's as much Mr. WZCW as I am.

    I step out the shower and get get changed. It's still early in the morning but I step out of the hotel room. Right in the centre of Toronto I look to my right, there I see the Hockey Hall of Fame. I love that building but few things beat the building to my left. The CN tower at 553 meters stands tall. No matter where you are in Toronto you can see it and the lights on the side. Right next to it is the SkyDome. Both buildings have history. Yet there's one rockstar in Toronto who is wanting to blow them open. His name Mark Keaton.

    I think about Keaton and his WZCW history. A man who has beaten both Blades and Constantine but a man who knows how to make an allegiance that keeps him higher than he should be. Then I think if he was to be interviewed by Leon Kensworth about me, what would he say?

    I know what I'd say if I was facing me. I'd go back 10 years to my first run. I'd point how out of my depth I was. How I rode my luck. How if it wasn't for Everest I'd not be anywhere. I'd mention the first time I got a good run and how it was only because everyone else was in title pictures. I took on Hasheem. He's gone but I lost to him. I'd point out how I turned my back on Everest. I'd go on and on. I'd look at Red Mask and how I claimed to be a hero but the streets of Keystone were in disarray. I would bring the two awful world title reigns I had and how once I lost them I pretty much gave up. I'd mention the taking my ball and going home. I'd mention how my EurAsian run has been the easiest of any champion in fed history. I would belittle my hall of fame career that has been luck after luck. Titus Avison? Relic of the past.


    My second alarm goes off. I know I need to go for my interview. Anyone but her, but I have to.


    The scene cuts as I with the EurAsian championship on his shoulder, stands opposite Stacey Maddison.

    Stacey: I'm here with Titus Avison as he gets ready for one of the biggest matches in his career. As he gets ready to take on Vis Imperium.

    I stifle a laugh as I think to call her out on her bullshit. I decide it's best if I don't but you know me. I sometimes just don't think.

    Titus: What are you involved too?

    Stacey: Sorry?

    Titus: You know full well what I mean. I'm talking about you and your Salome shtick. You destroyed Tyrone Blades' life and for what? Because Kenneth Banks paid you to? I remember when you were the person who everyone hated because you were the journalist, the one of the interviewers with integrity and you do this?

    I notice the look of shock in her eyes but her face smiles hiding her true feelings.

    Titus: Are you proud of yourself? Ruining a marriage? Destroying your integrity? You think people have forgotten because of the Batti thing? I haven't nor will I let you even patronise me about Vis Imperium. You're just as involved in them trying to end his career. What do you say for yourself?

    Nothing. Nothing is what she said as she just turned around and walked away. Do I feel bad? Nah fuck her. She ruined a dudes family and I am not having that.

    I look at the camera man, he shrugs his shoulders indicating we still need to get an interview done. Fine. I answer her question she never asked.

    Titus: Great question you have there Stacey Maddison, such a fine honest woman it would pleasure me to answer your question. Yes it is a big match for me for one reason, I'll be two years as EurAsian champion. Impressive don't you think?

    It's obvious why there was silence next but it threw me off slightly. I assumed she would have said yes.

    Titus: Yes that is the thing with VI. Fortunately Cooper is busy but that leaves Keaton and LeBelle. What about Keaton then? Well let's have a look at his history and you wonder when has he ever achieved anything? Two time tag team champion? That was Coopers doing. A man who has just coasted through WZCW and been there. People think he's had a distinguished career but has he? Has he really? He now has a seven foot 900lb roadie helping him. He's in a group of people who think they're the greatest in history yet he doesn't trust them enough.

    Can you imagine what the rest of the team are thinking? LeBelle wondering why Keaton has brought someone else in. Adonis being distracted by a big burly man? Yet what will Keaton achieve? A destruction of Vis Imperium? Do you honestly believe Kenneth will allow that? I don't.

    Yet here's something that I, Blades, LeBelle, Cooper and you know. It's that you Mark Keaton are the weakest link in Vis Imperium. You've been lucky sometimes, had backup for others but you've not faced up against Titus Avison and Tyrone Blades. Are you worried? You should be.

    Then there's Xander LeBelle. Ah yes. Where has he been? I hope he's enjoyed his month break. You wouldn't catch me doing that. Yet here we are. I remember him wearing a mask and now his face is on show to the world. You wouldn't catch me doing that. I remember him refusing every woman saying that he can beat any man. You wouldn't catch me doing that.

    I decided to answer another question that Maddison didn't get to ask.

    Titus: Well Stacey it's simple really. Blades will destroy LeBelle and so will I. Payback is on the cards, or a scroll I guess, and LeBelle will be defeated. With that the end of Vis Imperium. He's never faced up against TyTus.

    Why do we care so much about him? It was he who brought this war to Tyrone. He cost Blades the Mayhem championship. He and Adonis handcuffed Blades to the ring and beat him senseless. LeBelle was always three steps ahead of Blades and tried to make him pay but sometimes life throws a hand out. I was able to even the odds and then he began to stress. I still have an image of Blades being brutally attacked by those two and that's what's keeping me going. It's why I care more about him keeping career than holding onto the grandest prize of them all.

    I suppose I better go and see Blades and Jones.

    Titus: Then there's you Cooper and Banks. No matter what happens at Unscripted there's one thing that is scripted...We're coming for you.

    With Love

    The Hollow Ones.
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  3. Jeff Deliverer of Mail

    Jeff Deliverer of Mail Money for nothin, chicks for free
    E-Fed Mod

    Jun 15, 2015
    Likes Received:

    On a flight from Minnesota to New York….hours after Ascension. ​

    The Three Smokes Band chatted in the middle isle about appearing on Ascension, excitement was in the air and the continuing World Tour was a hot topic. The lead guitarist Skullface sat next to Dallas Keaton, both looking as energized as the rest of the band. Everyone else on the plane tolerated the group as they were big rock stars.

    “I think if we’re starting with Punch Me in the Heart the guitar solo should be closer to the first of the song man,” Skullface continued the conversation and took a drink of beer, “and it should be mostly muted chords at first. Y’know what I’m sayin?”

    “Nonsense Skully,” Dallas waved his hand, “I’ve played sold out shows since 1983, Punch Me in the Heart was always a great centerpiece act for a set. I’ve never changed it and I never will. The fact that we’re starting with this high energy rock ballad still bothers me.”

    “I think you should hear it before you judge it, man.” Skullface put his empty beer down and stood up, he opened the overhead compartment and hauled out a small amplifier and his purple electric guitar. He plugged in the guitar to the amp while Dallas had a big smirk on his face, not believing the half drunk lead guitarist was about to perform in front of all these people. Skullface uncoiled the plug from the amp and leaned under the seat, he saw an outlet on the far side under Dallas’s seat so he crawled on his belly until he was face to face with the socket. He reached with the plug and plugged in the amp, not noticing the clearly laminated sign with gold embossed letters on it…..

    !WARNING! ​



    A couple of hours later….​

    “Welcome to Entertainment Tonight, I’m Nancy O Dell. A rock and roll legend has died just hours ago in a plane crash only an hour after takeoff. 80’s Rock Icon Dallas Keaton and The Three Smokes Band have died alongside 120 people in a horrible plane crash. Investigators are quickly calling this a mechanical malfunction….”




    A few days later….the day of the funeral….. The Home of Remarkable Mark Keaton…..

    The Toronto News at five was blaring too loudly in a room to Mark’s left, he ignored it as he stared into the hallway mirror, slowly trying to figure out this jet black tie. His blonde hair was combed down nicely in flat strokes on both sides of his head, his black suit making him look leaner than he ever did. He felt like James Bond about to head out for a car chase…if the occasion wasn’t so heartbreaking. His mother, Marsha Keaton put a hand on his shoulder and offered a warm smile.

    “You look very handsome, son.”

    “Thanks ma.” Mark made another attempt at his tie but Marsha gently shooed his hands away and tied it for him.

    “You know,” She stopped and looked at him in the reflection of the mirror, “It’s o.k to cry. Despite what your father always told you.”

    Mark smiled and tried not to think of it. He just nodded in understanding. Seconds later, his mother somehow had his tie perfectly done. He shook his head in amazement and checked himself out one more time in the mirror.

    “You’re right ma,” Mark flexed his arm,“I am one handsome bitch.”

    Marsha belted out a laugh and clapped his back hard.

    “Never lose your sense of humor boy.”

    A couple of honks rang out over the noise of the television. Mark gave his mother a quick glance and they made their way to the door. A butler opened the door for them and in the horseshoe shaped driveway sat a black stretch limo. They entered and sat on the comfortable suede cushions. The driver pulled out of the driveway.

    Justin Cooper sat opposite of Mark Keaton, dressed in a black suit identical to Mark’s. Next to him was Xander Labelle and Andrew Adonis, both dressed in dark gray suits with matching gold cuff links. Xander wore round rimmed red sunglasses. Big Bad Roady was next to Marsha Keaton, dressed in his best black jean jacket and black dress pants, he also had a pair of shades on.

    “Gentlemen.” Mark nodded at them.

    “Sorry for your loss, my friend.” Cooper said quietly, not entirely staring at Mark.

    “Thank you.” Mark and Marsha said at the same time. The rest of the ride was in complete silence, save for a light clearing of a throat here and there. They pulled into the busy streets of downtown Toronto, each passenger staring at the sights on the streets, the billboards declaring a legend has died and today was his day of honor, signs on the street repeating Gene Simmon’s message that rock and roll was dead. When they finally pulled up to Roger’s Centre is when the madness was really evident. The entire entrance way was shut off to hundreds of fans packed to the barricades, reporters and trucks were everywhere, police and security were on hand for any wrongdoers.

    Toronto’s breaking news: ​

    “It’s 5 O Clock and still a chilly minus 1 degrees out, I’m Gary Hallweather. Well we are only moments away from what is being called - The Funeral of the Century-. 80’s Rock and Roll icon Dallas Keaton and The Three Smokes band will be honored in a special funeral procession at Rogers Centre. We have live shots now of his son, Mark Keaton and honored guests, including his mother, Marsha Keaton with Justin Cooper and Xander Labelle. He has arrived and look at all the camera flashes, this is incredible. The world is truly watching this event unfold and it is amazing how much attention this is getting around the globe. We are just getting some facts in here now, 35 thousand people will be crammed into the Rogers Centre here tonight for this event…..let’s take you down to H….”

    Mark and everyone made their way past the throngs of screaming fans and reporters, they soon entered a long hallway and the sound muted from the outside causing some distortion to everyone’s senses. After a few minutes they entered the stadium and the shock hit Mark, he couldn’t believe how packed the place was, jammed to the rafters with fans of Dallas, signs of tribute were all over the place. In the middle of the field there was a raised stage with an alter and mic stand. There was a very large organ and a huge painting of Dallas Keaton looking serious, like he was ready to shout right at your face.

    Mark, Cooper, Xander, Andrew, Marsha and BigRoad made their way to the front row, the crowds were murmuring and settling in. The organist began playing and the priest and his alter boys made their way down the long isle to the stage. The Priest said a few words then motioned for the organist again. She raised her hands high, then slammed them down on the keys….

    Mark tried to hold in his cry as hard as he could, one of his father’s favorite songs outside his own works. The Paul Bearers carried the coffins down the isle, the first coffin being a polished oak with gold handles, it was Dallas Keaton’s coffin. Nine more coffins followed, each varying in design and style, three of them covered in a fine white cloth, possibly showing a different faith or belief.

    The funeral procession began.


    An hour later….after many prayers and bible quotes from the Priest. ​

    “Ladies and gentleman who have come here to pay respects to these men, I welcome you to listen to close members of their immediate family as they say a few words.” The Priest motioned to the people in the first row, many of whom had little pages ready to read from. Mark and his guests listened to many Three Smokes Band family members share memories of their fallen loved ones and funny quotes. After awhile, the Priest came up to the mic again and said a prayer for all of The Three Smokes Band family members. He then motioned to Mark.

    “And now, the son of Dallas Keaton will say a few words about his father.” The Priest smiled and left the mic alone, he walked over by his Alter Boys and watched Mark with a smile on his face. Mark gulped, then gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.

    I can’t do this.

    He froze, looking right at her cheek, he was never so nervous in his life.

    Somebody hel……

    A hand gripped his shoulder, Justin Cooper was there. “Let’s go Mark, I’ve got your back.”

    Xander stood up and stepped next to Cooper, followed by Andrew Adonis and the 457 pound giant Big Bad Roady. Mark fought back tears as he grabbed Cooper’s fist and hauled himself to his feet. He patted everyone’s arm as he passed them, more confident than ever now. All five of them walked to the stage and climbed the stairs.

    The crowd erupted in cheers.

    Mark smiled wide as he stood in front of the mic, the rest stood a couple of steps back behind him.

    The roar of the crowd continued as Mark stood there, making on like he was adjusting the mic, trying to control his emotions.

    “Wow,” Mark leaned in, “thank you for that wonderful reception dudes. I’m speechless at how much love I’m getting right now. Well, here we are. The day that I never wanted to happen….” Mark blinked hard, he gulped away hurt feelings and tried hard to concentrate.

    “The day I’d have to bury my hero. Many of you folks know Dallas Keaton as a rocking dude from the 80’s who sang songs like Kick Me in the Ballads and I Want to Fornicate You. But I knew him as dad. He wasn’t home very much during my teen years, because he was touring and rocking the world. But when he was home is when I really valued the time I spent with him, man. I mean we didn’t always see eye to eye but we loved each other and always showed it in our own way. He would always tell me that if I followed my dreams and worked hard for them, that they could be achieved. He was right. I had two dreams dude, one was to be a big rock star like my dad and the other was to become a professional wrestler….”

    The crowd erupted and started an RMK chant.

    Mark held up his hand to try and quiet the crowd.

    “...and I achieved my dream following my fathers mantra. He would always say - It’s time to punch in- every time he left for his world tours. It’s something I’ve used with every job I’ve done, no matter how sticky or hung over I was, I would mutter this phrase, take a breath and get to work. If there’s one thing that my father drilled into this alcohol soaked brain is to work as hard as you can, be useful to the men that hire you, don’t be a lazy ass. Let me tell you, I’m pretty lazy, I slack off and I drink, I party, I have sex with beautiful women….but when it’s time to go to work, I work like my father told me to work. I will never dishonor him that way. Dad is probably in his coffin right now, growling at me to wrap it up so he can make his trip to rock and roll heaven. Well, here’s something I’ve never told you out loud dad, not since I was a little kid anyway, and I wish with all of my heart….”

    Mark gulped hard, he blinked away some tears as Cooper patted his shoulder.

    “...I wish you were here now so I could say it to your handsome face. I love you.” Mark lowered his head and tears streamed down his cheeks.

    The crowds erupted again. They chanted -Dallas- this time. Mark nodded and waved at the crowds. Cooper gave Mark a wad of tissues and he wiped off his cheeks and gave his nose a quick blow.

    He returned to the mic stand.

    “And now,” He looked at the crowds, then his expression changed to one of evil intent,”It’s time to punch in.”

    An alter boy wheeled one of the cloth covered coffins closer to the stage, past Dallas and The Three Smokes Band coffins, it rested on wheels just in front of the stage under Mark.

    “Here before me, I give you….”

    The alter boy whipped off the cloth revealing a coffin with a hundred white bulbs blinking in the form of the words - Titus Avison-

    “The career of Titus Avison!”

    The camera zoomed in on Harrison Ford in the crowd mouthing the word - Wow- and elbowing his wife.

    “We all know who he is,” Mark removed the mic from the arm and walked across the stage, he pointed to the coffin and continued, “he’s The Eurasian Champion! He’s held on to that damn title for FAR TOO LONG dudes! Seven hundred plus days! It’s quite incredible isn’t it?! Do you know WHY he’s held on to that title for so long? EH? Anyone?! Bueller?!”

    “I know boss!” Big Bad Roady shot his hand up like he was in school.

    “Shush Meatball! I’ll TELL you why! It’s because he’s never come across Remarkable Mark Keaton! THAT’S why! Now he’s aligned himself with Tyrone Blades and Mr. Jones so he can curse and swear now, whip diddly fucking do!”

    Laughter from the crowd, followed by another RMK chant.

    “These little punks think they can rise up and take down Vis Imperium? They’re about as threatening as The Little Rascals. In fact, they remind me of The Little Rascals, a lot. I mean look at Buckwheat…”

    Cooper quickly walked next to Keaton and whispered something in his ear. Mark looked annoyed but nodded in understanding.

    “Damn sensitive viewing audience, we didn’t worry about this shit in the eighties. But anyway, I’m sure all these idiot U.S.A fans are going to vote to have us disband if we lose. But here’s a spoiler warning for you all, we won’t lose. Titus Avison will lose and with it, his precious Eurasian Title and it’ll be strapped around my waist at the end of the night baby! Oh ya! I can’t wait to see the look on his face when….”

    Xander Labelle took the mic from Mark’s hand.

    “Hold on lad, let’s slow it down just a little bit. I think you meant that I, the greatest mind the world has ever seen, will be wearing that Eurasian title by the end of the night. Didn’t you get my phone messages? It was conveyed in a way that even you would understand.”

    Mark took a sharp step towards Xander but Cooper stepped in between them. He growled something away from the mic that seemed to calm down both men.

    Xander nodded, “He’s right. That is a distraction for both of us. We have to focus as a team.”

    Mark quickly snatched the mic back off of Xander, “That’s right smart man, a team that’s going to win at Unscripted. A team with ME as team captain. Big Man! Do your flip thing!” Mark motioned to Big Bad Roady, the big man ran across the stage, he jumped in the air and did a front flip and crashed right through the Titus Avison coffin causing the 35 thousand people attendance to gasp at the destruction.

    “That’s what he calls - The Denim Eclipse!- Damn man! That was excellent! Now, here’s my smart tag team partner, Xander Labelle, to say a few words.”

    Xander grabbed the mic off of Mark and gave him a stink eye.

    “Thank you, young man. We can’t forget the tag team partner who is calling himself Tyrone Blades.”

    An alter boy wheeled another coffin to the front of the stage, he removed the white cloth revealing a cheap looking casket, all along the side where knife slashes in the wood that spelled out - Tyrone Blades-

    “Here lies the depraved, nefarious, miscreant leader of The Hollow Ones, Tyrone Blades. The most dangerous man on the WZCW roster, I know because with pure luck, he managed to cheat me out of a victory not that long ago. A masterpiece I have yet to finish, but it hasn’t gone forgotten Mr. Blades, oh no, that masterpiece still sits in my storage room, waiting for those final touches of red that I will delightfully add in mere days from now. If the WZCW fans are smart, though I doubt they are, then they would vote you out of the company forever. We don’t have time to deal with street rats like yourself, please go crawl under a garbage can somewhere so we never have to see your unwashed, unshaven face ever again.”
    Cooper handed Xander a sledgehammer, Xander jumped from the stage and destroyed the cheap coffin to another gasping reaction from the crowd.

    Cooper slowly picked up the mic from the stage floor, the crowds were buzzing on what he was going to say.

    An alter boy wheeled another cloth covered coffin to the front of the stage.

    “Don’t bother,” Cooper growled loudly at the alter boy, “keep that coffin intact, Constantine is going to need it after Unscripted." Cooper dropped the mic and took a step back, Mark seemed annoyed that Justin didn’t follow the planned script.

    The priest and alter boys left the stage, followed by Andrew Adonis, leaving Mark Keaton, Xander Labelle and Justin Cooper standing alone. Mark turned and dramatically raised his fist showing the back of his hand, with his thumb tucked in he raised his devils horns with the baby finger and index finger pointing up, Cooper and Xander did the exact same motion, they looked at each other and added their middle fingers forming a - V I -




    The entire stage rose up on four support beams as 35 thousand fans screamed and chanted - Long Live V.I - The three Vis Imperium members kept their pose as they rose higher and higher in the air. Three huge, red streaming fireworks shot past behind them forming - V.I - before exploding overhead and an amazing display of multicolor madness. The crowds continued to chant louder and louder vibrating the very foundations of the building……


    The 80 inch television turned off on the wall with the final image of the three Vis Imperium members holding the formation high up in the middle of Rogers Centre with the V.I hand signals raised up. The camera panned back past a roaring fireplace to a relaxed man covered in a silk night gown. He tapped a big ash off of his Cuban cigar and opened a program for Unscripted, the style was a classic black and white page showing pictures of all the matches with big letters depicting the voting options and what’s on the line for each match. Mr. Banks moved his cigar close to the image of Tyrone Blades, he pressed the cigar into the image until it turned black and formed a hole in the page.

    “Burn in hell.”
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  4. Ty Burna

    Ty Burna WZCW World Heavyweight Champion

    Oct 27, 2007
    Likes Received:

    The following content, has not been paid for and is being streamed illegally on WZCW.com

    Three hooded men stand outside WZCW headquarters, one man slamming a folded letter to the door, taping the top and bottom. Soon the other two withdraw spray paint cans, and the three soon begin painting large crosshairs around the letter. The three stand back, satisfied with their work before the one front and center pulls his hooded back and his bandanna down, revealing the face of Tyrone Blades, a serious look on his face as he reaches back towards the larger man, Mr. Jones. Jones withdraws a baseball bat and hands it to Tyrone. Tyrone lifts the bat up onto his shoulder, staring at the large windows surrounding the front door. He soon lines the bat up and begins slamming it into the windows, shattering them one by one as he walks down the line, leaving just the door alone as the alarm starts to sound inside the building. Tyrone looks up at a security camera and flips it off before swinging the bat right into it, knocking it offline. The three Hollow Ones quickly take off, jumping into Tyrone's Impala and speeding off into the night. The scene fades away before returning to the Hollow Ones hideout, a night vision feed cutting through intermittently for a moment before revealing Titus, Tyrone, and Mr. Jones sitting in front of a large Hollow Ones flag. They have their bandannas still around their faces, Tyrone gripping a black bat in front of him.

    Tyrone: Vis Imperium. The Hollow Ones. This war has been going on for too long now. Ain't it funny though, y'all ain't got much to lose other than the right to suck on Banks' teet like newborns unable to fend for themselves. Meanwhile Titus and I got everything to lose. The Eurasian Championship, my career. You'd think we'd be the ones worried about this shit, but honestly, you two, Keaton and LeBelle, should be the most worried. What do you think we're willing to do to keep our title and career? If you hadn't noticed, I nearly killed Constantine just to take the Mayhem title, now I gotta fight for my career? Oh right, it's up to the fans to vote on the stipulation right? Let's cut the bullshit, we already know the numbers are getting juiced by WZCW cronies. My career's on the line at Unscripted, not your little group's existence. Not like it matters, there won't be anything left of you to continue on anyway.

    Titus: I have been your Eurasian Champion for just a few days short of two years. No one can take this title away from me, and now I get another Hall of Famer alongside me to defend it? You don't stand a chance against us. You see Mark and Xander, I joined the Hollow Ones originally to save my own skin. I saw the way you were all looking towards me, so who better to join forces with then Tyrone Blades? But now? Now I see it's not all about me anymore. WZCW was built off our backs, the hard work we put in to make WZCW what it is today.

    Mr. Jones: Y'all punk ass motherfuckers been running your mouths for far too long. That goes for you too Adonis, though y'all been rather silent since Tyrone broke your boy Xander's face at Apocalypse.

    The three laugh as they mock Xander trying to cover his face, Tyrone lifts his hands up, covering his face with his eyes showing mock horror, his voice raising slightly to mimic Xander's.

    Tyrone: Oh no, my face is as ugly as my paintings now. How am I going to get anyone to like me?

    Titus: Maybe you can make a switch to self portraits Xander? I mean, it can't be any worse than that portrait of Tyrone.

    Tyrone: That was a physical manifestation of my teen angst good sir! I demand you rescind those comments or I'll send my butler after you!

    Titus holds his hands up in "fear" as Jones can't help but crack up laughing beside the two.

    Titus: No please sir! I didn't mean anything by it! Your butler might actually put up a fight against us, and I don't want that!

    Tyrone: Whatever, life is pointless. I should just go join the other incels and complain incessantly online. Now where's my mascara and my favorite Dashboard Confessional album?

    Titus tries to keep a straight face but even he cracks up as Tyrone pulls his mask all the way up over his face and his arm over his face.

    Tyrone: Don't you dare look at me!

    Tyrone pulls his bandanna down and begins laughing before looking back into the camera with serious looks on their face.

    Mr. Jones: All joking aside, The Hollow Ones do have a serious topic we need to discuss. It has come to our attention that a certain member of WZCW has a very critical case of delusions. Symptoms include trying to live vicariously through his father, hey Titus, what was his father's band again?

    Titus: Wasn't it just a cover band?

    Mr. Jones: Fuck if I know, but what I do know is we have a man child that thinks Cooper's his best friend.

    Tyrone: Is that what they call pimps now? Best friends? Hey Titus, I'm your best friend right?

    Titus: Shut up Blades.

    Tyrone: What? I'm just looking for that 10% cut of that Oscar money.

    Mr. Jones: Other symptoms include, a self inflated sense of worth, an ego that is capable of inflating a hot air balloon, and a penchant for wild dreams of grandeur. If left untreated, it can lead to ending up broke, finding oneself face down in a gutter penniless, and a belief they can actually play guitar. Seriously man, did you even learn one chord from your old man?

    Tyrone: We the Hollow Ones take this condition very seriously. And we just so happen to have the antidote, isn't that right Titus?

    Titus: You are correct Tyrone. Treatment includes getting your face kicked in, a few doses of knocking your teeth out, a Tit Drop, and a final session of Click Clack. Results should be immediate, though a hospital trip may be necessary to clear up any remaining traces.

    Tyrone: Side effects may include fatherly disappointment, public humiliation, and....wait what the fuck Jones?

    Mr. Jones: What?

    Tyrone: Anal bleeding, really?

    Mr. Jones: I thought it was funny.

    Titus: Anal bleeding is never funny Jones.

    Tyrone: Seriously.

    Mr. Jones: Man y'all can't appreciate good humor if it hit you in the face.

    Tyrone and Titus turn towards Jones, narrowing their eyes at him. Jones simply waves them off as he shakes his head before the three Hollow Ones look back up again.

    Tyrone: We're done playing games now Vis Imperium. We're tired of you getting in our god damn way. Everyone is sick of you. Sick of the name, the way you look, the way you chew your damn food. Keaton come on man, chew with your mouth closed at least while you're in catering.

    Titus: Your shelf life was up months ago. It was over the moment Tyrone defeated Constantine, and yet you two ever so quickly latched onto the coat tails of Cooper. Ride that sweet gravy train a little longer before it all comes crumbling down.

    Tyrone: The death blow happens at Unscripted, whether the fake poll says so or not, but we're going to put you out on the streets. Find a good corner because they don't come easily so you can try finding that next sugar daddy. Normally I'd say you'd be our bitches but you two are so worthless I don't even want to say I own you.

    Titus: So run along now, there's no protecting you from us this time. No sneak attacks. No handicap matches, no more emotional strings being pulled. Man to man, fist to fist, you do not compare to us.

    Tyrone: All the cards are on the table. Bring your golden suited boy Adonis, we got Jones ready to show Adonis how tailor made his fist is made for his face. No more holding back, no more deception. No more Stacey Madison's reporting pillow talk. You're not hurting anyone I care about ever again. Banks may have forced my hand, but you two are going to be the ones that get to suffer for it.

    Titus: My name is Titus Avison. I am YOUR Eurasian Champion, and the Avison Era will continue on for two years, no, it'll never end. You don't deserve a chance at my title, you didn't earn the chance, so you definitely won't earn the right to hold my title. We get rid of the cancer known as Vis Imperium at Unscripted, and then we cut the tumor Mr. Banks out right after that. WZCW depends on us to make things right. If this company that we built is to survive, then it'll be us Hall of Famers that will do just that. Constantine ends Cooper's reign, The Hollow Ones hammer the stake through the heart of Vis Imperium.

    Tyrone: So bring everything you got. Bring a whole damn army because we cutting them boys down one at a time until we find you sniveling punk ass motherfuckers crying in the corner. You're getting the beating of a lifetime, and it'll be your career highlight. Titus Avison and Tyrone Blades, two of the absolute best, cratering in your skulls with each blow. You ain't taking our title..

    Titus: MY title.

    Tyrone: Right, his title, and you're sure as fucking hell ain't taking my fucking career away from me. This is my life, and everything I stand for. Getting in that ring is my god damn life blood. This is what fuels me to get out of bed and put up with the misery of life. The thrill of battle is what pushes a warrior forward. And this warrior will NOT allow someone like you to take claim over my life. I will drink from your blood, I will feast upon your realization of how dire your situation is. And finally, when the time has come, the last sound you're going to hear is that Click.

    The three Hollow Ones lift their hands up in the shape of a pistol right at the camera.

    Titus: Clack.


    The scene returns to inside Mr. Banks' office, rage clearly on his face as he stares at the security footage on his computer. As the scene of Tyrone flipping the camera off before the camera footage cuts out plays on his screen, Banks screams before throwing the monitor against the wall. He stands up and paces a bit before returning to his desk and picking up the letter. He opens it and scans the contents..

    We are defined not by our words, but by our actions. So how am I to be defined? Champion? Hall of Famer? Warrior? Evil? Husband? Adulterer? Father? Deadbeat? And yet, these are just labels. What I have done in the ring has had far greater impact than any word I have uttered, and I have said plenty over the years. To simply be in the ring with me has defined others. Steven Kurtesy. Barbosa. Showtime Cougar. Their careers have revolved around my own, and my career revolved around them. I miss them all. Though we shed each other's blood, at each other's throats ready to kill one another, there was honor within those moments. A mutual respect that was worthy of sharing, now there is nothing. There is no respect left in this business. They believe they have me dead to rights, that they can finally kill off the last sharks in the shrinking lake. Every week they salivate at the thought of my demise, yet they can't see past the fact they have diminished all that my generation had built up. Perhaps it's a war that has already been lost, but it's not an ending I will let them dictate. The history of WZCW, what it represents, and what it means to all of us, these are things I will not allow them to hold and censor.

    I was once an unknown. I was never supposed to win the Eurasian Tournament. It was designed for someone else to grasp glory and ascend the ranks. They've fallen to the wayside. Is that perhaps what was meant for me? An occultist that spoke to a Ouija board. It was genius in retrospect. They focused on the Ouija instead of the threat that I really was. And so I became the very first Eurasian Champion, a title my tag team partner Titus now has elevated as it rightly should be. I've grown proud of what he's been able to accomplish, another old head that one day may understand the severity of our mission. I defeated Drake Callahan, a future World Champion in his own right, and I carried that title with pride. But it was not for long, as the people in charge felt I was more suited for the Mayhem title. Though foolish at the time, I thank them now. I was able to develop the viciousness and sadism that had led me to greater heights later on. I outgrew the Mayhem division, giving it over to those that needed it more to prove themselves.

    The dark and sinister Vengeance. A man that I had been compared to many times over since I started in WZCW, a man that I soon found a brother in arms to bring a darkness no others could hope to duplicate. We ended Corey Payne, and proceeded to rip the World Title away from Titus, sorry about that Avison, and soon Vengeance finally had reached the pinnacle he so dearly desired. My rival Showtime Cougar however, had sent me to a depth I had yet to experience. That of loss and contemplation. A revelation had occurred within me, I no longer needed a Dark Alliance to achieve what I wanted. I was still the Harbinger, I was still the man that would widen the cracks within your soul, but I needed to become the warrior WZCW needed. And so I stepped into a match that has become synonymous with my name, Hell in a Cell. And it was there through all the madness, I defeated my former ally and mentor. WZCW World Heavyweight Champion. Vengeance was slain by my hand, blood I reluctantly stained my hands with. You know the rest, undefeated for an entire year, World Champion the entire time. The greatest title reign in WZCW history, Avison I can hear your arguments already, finally ending in the very same Hell in a Cell match.

    The Apostles of Chaos, The Elite, Phantoms of Chaos, The Hollow Ones. For someone so proudful of his battles on his own, perhaps I was afraid of being alone in this industry. One could mistake the Apostles as my way to cultivate the next generation, to continue what the other pillars and I had built, but let's be honest, I was afraid of my own spot being usurped by those I brought together. What better way to keep them in check then to keep them under my thumb and orders? The Elite was the opposite. I grew weary of holding the younger generation up. I grew jaded, believing those that teamed alongside me against the Elite just wanted to use my name as their own springboard. I was wrong, I was wrong so many times over. Mikey Stormrage, to him I owe the biggest apology. My actions and scheme sent you spiraling when you should have ascended even sooner. You believe you don't deserve everything you've had, you couldn't be further from the truth. Iron sharpens iron and you were honed to exactly the foil to the likes of Holmes, Constantine, and myself.

    Truly, I have made mistakes in the past. The Hollow Ones perhaps is my attempt at atoning for those past sins. For every person I've double crossed, for every broken bone, every time I've taken advantage of those that believed in me. Most believe I am no better than you Banks, and they're absolutely right, I really am no different. Game recognize game. They think if I win this war it goes right back to me making everyone's lives miserable. That I would simply seize power once more and skew things in my favor. Maybe, maybe not. What I do know though, is I've done everything you've done already. I know your tricks Banks, I'm the man that created them. But I'm willing to admit I was wrong. I'm willing to kneel prostate and ask for a forgiveness I'm not worthy of receiving from those in the back.

    So why the history lesson? Perhaps you forgot who exactly you and your boys Vis Imperium are dealing with. Perhaps I needed to remember who exactly I am and where I came from. I'm not the man I was when I went undefeated for a year. I struggle with each day to find the motivation to keep this up. My body is in constant pain, I tried to drown it with alcohol. I tried to numb it with an empty love. In the end all I found was heartache and even more pain. Lavished in anguish, shredded down to the bone, mentally devastated, my heart has been scarred more times in the past year, but yet here I am, persevering in the face of my own mortality. I was once immortal in my own eyes, a god in this industry. I know now I am not above anyone else in that locker room, they are the people that will keep this going long after I'm gone.

    I can see the smile on your face already Banks, I can see the sick satisfaction in thinking this is my goodbye letter. That I've already reserved myself to my fate, the grizzled vet ready to go out on his shield like every great warrior, ready to put over the next ones. I love this business more than you could even imagine Banks, more than you, more than even my own well being sometimes. Perhaps this is my last sacrifice. My last ounce of pride draining slowly from my body, that last drop of blood falling from my face, that final drip of sweat staining the mat. Maybe it's time to finally rest. To take comfort in the fact I did everything I could to make WZCW as great as I could. Unscripted may very well be my swan song.

    Or perhaps you and your Vis Imperium lap dogs can kiss my god damn ass. I'm not done by a long shot. The war ends at Unscripted, and I'll stand triumph over your goons while I take aim for you. Pray to whatever gods you want Banks, when them cross hairs are on you, you know that you've lost. I'm not retiring, and I'm sure as hell not letting you be the one to put that final nail in my coffin. My name is Tyrone motherfucking Blades. You can call me Ty Burna, Harbinger of Chaos, The King of Darkness, the Devil Incarnate. I really don't care, because I will define what this company represents inside that ring at Unscripted. We are the best in the god damn world, and The Hollow Ones will prove it once again.

    With Lo....nah fuck you.

    The Hollow Ones
    Dagger Dias likes this.
  5. TBK

    TBK Local Weaboo Ruins Everything

    Mar 23, 2012
    Likes Received:
    "You're leaving?"

    "Yes, for the night, I must. Andrew called me into his studio to pick up a few things prior to the move."

    "Hey dude, I get it. Take it easy."

    "I feel as though I should say that to you, should I not? I shall meet you once again, where we end the career of Tyrone Blades once and for all."

    That conversation played out so many times in Xander LeBelle's head, even after he left the funeral. He wondered if he was even remembering it correctly. No mind was safe to the agony of phantom memories, not even his own.


    LeBelle stepped out of his limo and brushed any and all dirt, even imagined, off of his suit. Dirt was the sign of the working man and of the less refined. He couldn't abide by that. The glow of the Adonis Studios sign bathed the Class Act in neon, and despite the 'SOON TO RELOCATE' appended onto it, he couldn't help but smile at the logo of the studio that brought him back to WZCW. His horn-rimmed glasses reflected what his sights were set on, the window to his manager's office. Holding his cane aloft, Xander walked through the halls and made his way to the third floor. It was lonely at night, as most of the studio's staff had gone home. There was only one man besides Xander who continued to work tirelessly at this hour.

    LeBelle reached the oak door and knocked three times. Almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal the man in the gold sunglasses and suit to match, his phone affixed to his ear as per usual. Andrew Adonis signalled to his favorite client and hurriedly spoke into device he now had cradled between his head and shoulder.

    "Hey bud, I gotta go. Catch me tomorrow morning, okay? Talk to you soon. Buh-bye."

    Adonis quickly hung up, dropped the phone into his suit pocket, and stepped aside to allow LeBelle passage into his office. It was hardly recognizable at this point - his paintings were gone, and everything else that wasn't his desk was shoved into a box.

    "Xander! Haha... got great news, kid! I got Remarkable Mark a movie deal that would put Avision to shame, and when you're done celebrating taking down that guy who's been a thorn in your side since day one, I have something great for you too...I almost don't wanna spoil the surprise, but I gotta get your plans for reservations and the like. I cut a deal to sign you on to more places! Obviously, WZCW's gonna be your bread and butter, but hey...there's always gonna be opportunities for Vis Imperium."

    "That there will be, Andrew," the amazing genius said as he hung his coat on a hook. "Even if it were to disband - I wish I could say there was no possibility, but there's a percentage of doubt a genius like me could never ignore - the one thing that will remain true that Vis Imperium is but a name for three of the most talented, brilliant, hard hitting individuals who ever stepped into a ring. It existed before us, and if I am among the cast to end it, my presence is one to ensure that it holds that reputation forever."

    His tone was somber, which was unusual for the client Adonis had grown to know over the past few years.

    "Everything alright, bud? Funeral didn't hit ya pretty hard, did it?" he asked, and went to get Xander something strong to ease his tension.

    "It's not the funeral, Andrew. It's this place. When Vis Imperium had first come to me, when I won my first championship, when I won my first match, when I accepted you as my manager, when that mask was less than air,..this place was always here. I am not the sentimental man, Andrew, but there is no denying that this place has transformed me for the better. I will never forget my time here."

    Adonis sighed. He understood. He understood everything. Prior to his client speaking up, it felt as though he was alone in thinking it, so it was nice to hear someone else verbalize it.

    "Yeah, it's uh...it's crazy, ain't it? he said, with a laugh. "We had some good times. You ready to make some new ones?"

    "After this is all over, I want a drink and a trip back to France before I step into WZCW again. I'll see what happens from there."

    Xander got a pat on his back like a rock. Never say Adonis didn't have the strength to compete.

    "I hear ya, bud. I'm just about to close shop for the last time, but I thought I'd get you to come get your stuff."

    Andrew pointed to a box with the name 'Xander' written on it in. The Class Act slowly approached, then picked it up, and put it on the table.

    "I'm gonna hop outside for a cigar. You take your time, and tell me if you want any of it, huh?"

    "Will do, old friend."

    Adonis left the room as Xander opened up and peered into the cardboard box. Inside, he found a mess of trinkets from his past, including a photograph of him and Adonis after Kingdom Come. If Andrew didn't already have this portait, he could keep it, otherwise it looked like the most interesting thing in the box. The only thing that sparked the Class Act's interest was an old sound recorder he had brought with him when he first stepped into Adonis's office. It was his insurance policy - if the agent attempted anything on the ambassador's head, he would have the evidence. He wondered if it still had the same message in it from last time.

    He pressed play to find out.

    "I wish for you to be my manager."


    "Yes, you have a reputation for turning around careers, correct? Ortega, Brown, Baxter, many names have fallen under you, and all turned out successful. I want to join their rankings. I want to be...remembered."

    Xander stopped recording, and rolled it back. As important as this day was, it was little more than useless. At one point, it represented Xander's distrust for Adonis. He didn't want to remember that through any sort of portal back in time. What he would like to remember, however, was this night. What could have been the last night of Vis Imperium, or the last night for Tyrone Blades. One thing for certain, however, it was the last night of Adonis Studios, which meant more than either of those did to him.

    Xander LeBelle took a deep reath, then hit record function.

    "Let the world see me not for who I want them to, but as I am."

    Xander's self shook with those words.

    I have watched a son remember his father, and I watched my home be taken in pieces within the same day. All I can think about is regrets. Why did I not do this, and why did I not do that? Am I not The World's Greatest Mind? How could I have been as foolish as to let that come to pass? But, it's with these regrets that we come to remember that no tragedy comes without joy and happiness before it. Perhaps it was not the last thing seen, but it is there. We must continue. Where one door closes, another one shall open. Every book that has an ending in my library is a classic, and every one that doesn't is a tale lost to time. Adonis Studios will go out like A Tale of Two Cities, timeless and remembered forever. As opposed to The Mystery of Edwin Drood, which only sparks a discussion of 'what if it were finished'?

    Xamder paused, to stare back at the picture of him after Kingdom Come.

    "I was happy to face my final chapter, and i know that no matter what result I get, in the end,I shall stand victorious and continue onward. I have despised Tyrone more than I ever thought I could another human being, even The Beard. This is how it always was meant to happen. He goes, or I go. I will fight, I will claw, I will break every last bone in that worthless scum's body, I will tear him limb from limb and be the worst gentleman the world has ever seen. That is what that man does to me...And I will break everyone who is at his side."

    Xander gave a boisterous laugh into the recorder.

    "On any other day, on any other week, in any other situation, there's no place or time I could see myself seeing the EurAsian Title as my secondary focus. That is, if the fans choose to vote Tyrone....To tell the truth, I know the answer. Of course someone such as I would know the answer, however, I am The World's Greatest Mind. So the world can remember it, and know my power to be true, I will whisper it...."

    And so, Xander did.

    "When the smoke has cleared, my naysayers will be proven incorrect. It does not matter for me what they choose. I make my own path, and make the right decisions happen. Unscripted is the unpredictable. Just because the fans say it shouldn't happen, does not mean that it won't. By the end of the night, both are possibilites, regardless of if the fans what it or not. I'll gladly let the man who has stood behind me and become my partner through thick and thin, Mark Keaton, take down TItus, what matters to me is that Unscripted will go out with a bang, and no matter what it takes, whether fan decided or not, that bang gets rid of Tyrone Blades for good."

    LeBelle knew Adonis must be nearly finished with his cigar, and so decided to wrap it up.

    "If there is one hope I have, it is that Titus can do the right thing and leave the ring, and let whatever happen happen that will spell the end for Blades. I have never felt the need to hurt a man like Titus, in spite of all that has happened...I still consider him to be among the upper echelon for talent in WZCW, but there's no world where Tyrone's existence is worth him retaining. He knows it, everyone knows it. He shall even be able to knock out one of the many people who are constantly after him Whether or not he does the smart decision, however, we shall see, but if the man who has held that title for years cannot see himself earning it back, well...he is a fool, just like all the rest. If you can't make a sacrifice to make your job a little less stressful, perhaps you are unworthy of your reputation."

    It felt almost physically painful to say that, but it was true. No more was Titus the man that he knew. After all, a real genius worked smarter, not harder.

    "Either way, there's one thing that remains a possibility, engraved in every timeline for WZCW...The symphony that is Vis Imperium ends on a high note."

    Right on cue came Adonis opening the door, and Xander stopped recording.

    "Thank you, Andrew. I shall be taking all of it. Just...one question, do you already have a copy of this photograph?"

    Xander handed him the framed photograph after Kingdom Come.

    "You kiddin'? I got three versions of this photo. You just never picked up yours."

    Adonis handed it back, and Xander put it right back into his box.

    "I see. Then, I think we are square."

    Grabbing the box, Andrew opened up the door to the office for his client. Just as LeBelle was about to leave, he turned to look back at his gold-suited friend.

    "Just to be clear, although I'm certain I'm right, the new office is in Connecticut, over by the Kholas Estate?"

    "That's the place."


    "I'll see you there."
    Dagger Dias likes this.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.

Share This Page

monitoring_string = "afb8e5d7348ab9e99f73cba908f10802"