Richard Blonoff
Make America Rassle Again
Deadline is Friday, September 2nd, 11:59PM. Extensions available upon request.
Ascension 110: Mark Keaton vs. Tyrone Blades
- Thread starter Richard Blonoff
- Start date
- Status
Richard Blonoff
Make America Rassle Again
Deadline has been extended by 24 hours.
Ty Burna
Getting Noticed By Management
Politics. Contracts. Agreements. Words that hang heavy over his head as he packs his bags after returning to WZCW. He works silently, collecting his belongings as he begins exiting the locker room. He shoves the door open as he slides the hood up on his hoodie, his eyes fixated on the floor as he walks swiftly towards his ride. He didn't want to be here anymore. What was the point? He had been forced to strip away his persona because they didn't understand the complexity of the gimmick. And so he left, only to be corralled back in, like sheep being lead to the slaughter. He grits his teeth as the anger continues to seethe up in him. As he reaches his car he pops the trunk and tosses his bags in there. As he closes the trunk he looks up and reveals Stacey Madison standing there with her bags as well. He quirks an eyebrow at the interviewer, who holds a smile on her face as she sizes up the former World Champion.
Tyrone: You seem awful glad to see me for some reason. Surprised to see you still here.
Stacey: As a matter of fact I am Ty.
Tyrone: It's Tyrone, Stacey.
Stacey: Right, Tyrone. Listen, I don't have anyone to ride with to the next town, could I catch a ride with you?
A look of surprise forms on the face of Tyrone, this woman last time he saw her she could barely be in the same room as him, now asking for a ride? He can't help but laugh as he shakes his head, popping the trunk once again.
Tyrone: If you insist, I control the music though.
Stacey smiles wider as she quickly moves and shoves her bags in the trunk before Tyrone closes the lid. He unlocks the car and slides in as Stacey sits down in the passenger seat. She reclines back slightly, stifling a yawn as Tyrone fires the car up. He turns the music up a bit as he drives out of the arena garage, hitting the road. Stacey shifts in her seat, crossing her legs as Tyrone looks over at her, unable to help himself as he takes in her beauty. For all the torment he had put her through throughout the years, she was the only interviewer he ever cared to have around, a weird twisted kinship had formed between them.
Stacey: So Banks finally let you back in the company? Didn't think I'd see that after what you said about him.
He shrugs as he settles into his seat as they hit the highway. So many hours on the road, it was almost like driving on auto pilot at this point in time, the yellow dashes merging with the white lines and back. How much longer could he do this?
Tyrone: Wasn't my choice I can assure you. When they told me I was reinstated I told them I wasn't coming back. This isn't the WZCW I helped build Stacey, it's too white washed now.
Stacey: You can't tell me that rush didn't return to you the moment you came through the crowd. We've known each other for a long time Tyrone, you live for all this. That crowd cheering loudly for your return, it woke you back up.
Tyrone: Of course it did. You don't have a choice but to get your adrenaline going. What I do in the ring will never change, and I will always love that. But these dealings with corporate has drained me Ms. Madison, I wish for simpler times where I walked out there, I performed, and I got paid. So that's my goal now. If I keep my head down then maybe the satisfaction will come back, but until then I'm keeping my temper under control before I do something I may regret later.
Stacey's jaw drops as she sits up, tussling her hair briefly as she stares over at Tyrone. She bites her lip a bit, unsure if her next comment is wise.
Stacey: Did you just call me Ms. Madison? That's certainly a first. Have you gone soft on me Tyrone?
She reaches out and pokes him in the side jokingly, and he can't help but chuckle at the very notion. He reaches and catches her finger with his free hand, holding it for a brief moment.
Tyrone: Careful, I've been told I can bite hard.
Stacey: Is that so?
The two look towards one another for a moment before he slowly lets her finger go, his eyes shifting back to the road as the exit signs continue to float past like paths to dreams never to be experienced. The moment weighs heavily on him, did he truly choose this path to go down tonight? The excitement of the unknown entices even the strongest willed. Stacey looks out the side window, a faint glimmer in her eye as she sighs softly. The sound seemingly jars him out of his thoughts.
Tyrone: So don't mind me prying, but why did you want to ride with me? I haven't exactly treated you right in the past.
Stacey: Let's be serious here, you've been a real asshole to me at times. Like leaving me on the outskirts of Hollywood.
Tyrone: Yeah I'll admit to that one.
Stacey: Or in the ghetto of Keystone City...
Tyrone: That as wel...
Stacey: And you've insinuated I wanted to sleep with Showtime to be on his talk show.
Tyrone: You're not painting me in a rather good light here.
Stacey: I mean, you even menaced me enough that I needed security, and then you proceeded to knock that security guard out.
Tyrone: Alright! I get the point!
Stacey turns towards him, an oddly warm smile on his face as she twirls a strand of hair absentmindedly. She winks towards him as she uncrosses her legs and crosses them the other way now.
Stacey: And yet whenever another interviewer tries to talk to you, you brush them off and demand I do the work. I think secretly you care about me Tyrone.
Tyrone: You're crazy woman. I just find you to be the most professional and the least grating.
He can't help but smirk towards her and returns the wink which elicits a giggle from Stacey. The car goes quiet once again save for the music, of course some rather inappropriate R&B song comes on. As the pulsating beat and lyrics of rather sexual nature blare from the speakers, he returns back to the nervous excitement of the situation playing out in front of him. The silence continues for a few minutes more when Stacey clears her throat.
Stacey: Tyrone, I don't want to talk business anymore tonight, but you had to team up with Constantine. You and him haven't exactly seen eye to eye to say the least since The Elite. What was that like?
He quirks an eyebrow at Stacey, of course there was a hidden agenda. He would be a hot interview for any of the interviewers, Stacey just slid in under the radar to get the hot story. He sighs, almost in relief that it was nothing more as the enticement slides away slowly.
Tyrone: It is what it is. We didn't have to work together as it was a tornado tag. We went out, we put the beat down on James Howard and Ramparte. Speaking of, have you heard word about Ramparte? I caught a glimpse of him getting attacked while I was changing.
The tone turn somber as Stacey pulls out her phone and checks her messages. The look on her face turns serious as she reads carefully.
Stacey: He's at the hospital now, from what they can tell it doesn't look good for him. No updates on his status, but it's very serious.
Tyrone: A shame, whoever these jackasses are they aren't doing it the right way. I've taken over WZCW, but I did it through legitimate channels and earned everything. Ramparte was nothing more than a targeted victim, but best believe if they try that on me it won't end up the same way.
The boisterousness suddenly returns in him, that pride had return that he had been missing for the past few months. A look of determination forms on his face as he assesses the threat. These are nothing but thugs, attacking when the opening presents itself. Perhaps....
Stacey: That's part of the reason why I asked to ride with you Tyrone, I don't know what these guys are capable of, but I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me.
She turns towards him and places her hand on his, her eyes catching his gaze. He nods his head silently towards her as his eyes return to the road, finally seeing his exit. He turns off the highway and makes his way through the next city, pulling up to the hotel as his mind races.
The scene fades away briefly before returning inside the hotel. Stacey walks next to him quietly as it so happens their rooms are next to one another. As they stop in front of their respective doors, Stacey slides her card and opens the door, she takes a step in but stops and looks over at him.
Stacey: I don't say this often, but thank you Tyrone.
Tyrone: Don't mention it. After all people might take me for growing soft.
He winks towards her, eliciting the same giggle as before as she places her bag in the room before leaning over and wrapping her arms around his neck. The scent is intoxicating, his mind almost spinning in circles as he closes his eyes.
Tyrone: You know for someone that presents herself as a hard nosed interview, you're kind of a softie yourself.
Stacey: Only when I'm comfortable.
Her voice sultry, her very aura shattering his well guarded persona, he can feel himself getting dizzy. She pulls back a bit and looks him in the eye, his jaw slacked slightly. She leans in, his eyes closing, as she kisses him, his arms instinctively wrapping his arms around her as the tension quickly turns to desire. Their hands roam all over one another, the loneliness of the road eroding away yet the small fire of guilt smoldering in the back of his mind. Yet it extinguishes quickly. It was too late, the carnal desires overriding his instincts. He pushes the door to his room open as they move swiftly inside, their hands still exploring one another. She pushes off of him and falls onto the bed. He notes how her leg bends just so, the way her skin glistens. He pulls his hoodie off as he stares down at this goddess as the scene fades away briefly.
It returns now as he is sprawled out on his bed as Stacey is standing, brushing her hair back as she looks back at him with a satisfied smile. She slowly walks towards the door and looks back once more, blowing him a kiss.
Stacey: Goodnight Tyrone.
And just like that she was gone. He closes his eyes as he replays the past hour in his mind, the embers of guilt returning once more. It was just the one time he reminds himself, it possibly couldn't mean anything. Just then his cell phone rings... he stares at the name for a moment before answering.
Tyrone: Hello? Hey baby, no I just got to the room here...
**************************************************
The scene fades away again, this time coming back into focus in a darkened locker room, Tyrone sits on a simple folding chair with his hands clasped in front of him, his head lowered with his hood up over his face.
Tyrone: Mark Keaton, the last time I saw you in the ring the Tag Team Titles were stolen from myself and my partner. I haven't forgotten what you and that loudmouth Justin Cooper did that night, and you will know the consequences for those actions soon enough. However, I must also thank you.
He lifts his head up, his green eyes piercing through the camera as a smile forms and a chuckle escapes him. He rubs his hands together quietly before reaching down and grabbing his black athletic tape. He begins to slowly wrap his right hand, methodically going about the job.
Tyrone: The fact remains it helped open my eyes to what's really going on in WZCW. How I had relied far too long on a gimmick and a look. I was taken for granted. The scary man in all black that played mind games. They always forgot about the skills behind the facade, the years of training and the pain of surgeries to keep me going. I've put myself through physical hell to make it to the top. The scars show all over my body, from my shoulder to my knees. And yet here I am again, forced to prove myself all over again as the premier fighter in WZCW. It starts anew once more and you will be the first stepping stone to regaining what was once mine. The name Ty Burna was synonymous with greatness, a greatness that was held up as a legend more than what stared them all in the face. The days of Ty Burna's year long reign and undefeated streak have gone by the wayside, the diabolical schemes the ultimate fables told. The betrayals, the blood feuds, there all tied to a name that has been laid to rest.
He finishes wrapping his right hand and moves on to his left hand, once more meticulously wrapping it just right. He continues staring forward as he does so, his muscles tensed up all over as he speaks.
Tyrone: What once was, shall never be again. There is no more mind games, there is no more schemes to get what I want. The only strategy is straight forward and through my opponents. Night after night I will go out there and do what I do best!
His voice rises as he quickly snaps the last piece of tape off his left hand as he stands up and tosses the roll of tape behind him, bumping his fists together before holding them up to the camera.
Tyrone: All I need are these wrapped fists. I don't need the fans' approval. I don't need management to sign off on what I'm doing. All I need is between those ropes. Keaton, I'm here to make a statement that Tyrone Blades will become the new standard, no, the very top of what it means to be the best in WZCW and all over this god damn world. At Ascension, you're in for the fight of your life. Our chairs match will pale in comparison to what will happen when we go one on one. And I won't need barbed wire or chairs to do it. All I need....
He slams his fists together in front of the camera before turning his back away from it, picking up the chair and throwing it across the room.
Tyrone: Are my own two fists. Thus it is written, so it shall come to pass? No, you already know what's going down, you're getting cut down by the man named Blades.
Tyrone walks away as the scene cuts out.
Tyrone: You seem awful glad to see me for some reason. Surprised to see you still here.
Stacey: As a matter of fact I am Ty.
Tyrone: It's Tyrone, Stacey.
Stacey: Right, Tyrone. Listen, I don't have anyone to ride with to the next town, could I catch a ride with you?
A look of surprise forms on the face of Tyrone, this woman last time he saw her she could barely be in the same room as him, now asking for a ride? He can't help but laugh as he shakes his head, popping the trunk once again.
Tyrone: If you insist, I control the music though.
Stacey smiles wider as she quickly moves and shoves her bags in the trunk before Tyrone closes the lid. He unlocks the car and slides in as Stacey sits down in the passenger seat. She reclines back slightly, stifling a yawn as Tyrone fires the car up. He turns the music up a bit as he drives out of the arena garage, hitting the road. Stacey shifts in her seat, crossing her legs as Tyrone looks over at her, unable to help himself as he takes in her beauty. For all the torment he had put her through throughout the years, she was the only interviewer he ever cared to have around, a weird twisted kinship had formed between them.
Stacey: So Banks finally let you back in the company? Didn't think I'd see that after what you said about him.
He shrugs as he settles into his seat as they hit the highway. So many hours on the road, it was almost like driving on auto pilot at this point in time, the yellow dashes merging with the white lines and back. How much longer could he do this?
Tyrone: Wasn't my choice I can assure you. When they told me I was reinstated I told them I wasn't coming back. This isn't the WZCW I helped build Stacey, it's too white washed now.
Stacey: You can't tell me that rush didn't return to you the moment you came through the crowd. We've known each other for a long time Tyrone, you live for all this. That crowd cheering loudly for your return, it woke you back up.
Tyrone: Of course it did. You don't have a choice but to get your adrenaline going. What I do in the ring will never change, and I will always love that. But these dealings with corporate has drained me Ms. Madison, I wish for simpler times where I walked out there, I performed, and I got paid. So that's my goal now. If I keep my head down then maybe the satisfaction will come back, but until then I'm keeping my temper under control before I do something I may regret later.
Stacey's jaw drops as she sits up, tussling her hair briefly as she stares over at Tyrone. She bites her lip a bit, unsure if her next comment is wise.
Stacey: Did you just call me Ms. Madison? That's certainly a first. Have you gone soft on me Tyrone?
She reaches out and pokes him in the side jokingly, and he can't help but chuckle at the very notion. He reaches and catches her finger with his free hand, holding it for a brief moment.
Tyrone: Careful, I've been told I can bite hard.
Stacey: Is that so?
The two look towards one another for a moment before he slowly lets her finger go, his eyes shifting back to the road as the exit signs continue to float past like paths to dreams never to be experienced. The moment weighs heavily on him, did he truly choose this path to go down tonight? The excitement of the unknown entices even the strongest willed. Stacey looks out the side window, a faint glimmer in her eye as she sighs softly. The sound seemingly jars him out of his thoughts.
Tyrone: So don't mind me prying, but why did you want to ride with me? I haven't exactly treated you right in the past.
Stacey: Let's be serious here, you've been a real asshole to me at times. Like leaving me on the outskirts of Hollywood.
Tyrone: Yeah I'll admit to that one.
Stacey: Or in the ghetto of Keystone City...
Tyrone: That as wel...
Stacey: And you've insinuated I wanted to sleep with Showtime to be on his talk show.
Tyrone: You're not painting me in a rather good light here.
Stacey: I mean, you even menaced me enough that I needed security, and then you proceeded to knock that security guard out.
Tyrone: Alright! I get the point!
Stacey turns towards him, an oddly warm smile on his face as she twirls a strand of hair absentmindedly. She winks towards him as she uncrosses her legs and crosses them the other way now.
Stacey: And yet whenever another interviewer tries to talk to you, you brush them off and demand I do the work. I think secretly you care about me Tyrone.
Tyrone: You're crazy woman. I just find you to be the most professional and the least grating.
He can't help but smirk towards her and returns the wink which elicits a giggle from Stacey. The car goes quiet once again save for the music, of course some rather inappropriate R&B song comes on. As the pulsating beat and lyrics of rather sexual nature blare from the speakers, he returns back to the nervous excitement of the situation playing out in front of him. The silence continues for a few minutes more when Stacey clears her throat.
Stacey: Tyrone, I don't want to talk business anymore tonight, but you had to team up with Constantine. You and him haven't exactly seen eye to eye to say the least since The Elite. What was that like?
He quirks an eyebrow at Stacey, of course there was a hidden agenda. He would be a hot interview for any of the interviewers, Stacey just slid in under the radar to get the hot story. He sighs, almost in relief that it was nothing more as the enticement slides away slowly.
Tyrone: It is what it is. We didn't have to work together as it was a tornado tag. We went out, we put the beat down on James Howard and Ramparte. Speaking of, have you heard word about Ramparte? I caught a glimpse of him getting attacked while I was changing.
The tone turn somber as Stacey pulls out her phone and checks her messages. The look on her face turns serious as she reads carefully.
Stacey: He's at the hospital now, from what they can tell it doesn't look good for him. No updates on his status, but it's very serious.
Tyrone: A shame, whoever these jackasses are they aren't doing it the right way. I've taken over WZCW, but I did it through legitimate channels and earned everything. Ramparte was nothing more than a targeted victim, but best believe if they try that on me it won't end up the same way.
The boisterousness suddenly returns in him, that pride had return that he had been missing for the past few months. A look of determination forms on his face as he assesses the threat. These are nothing but thugs, attacking when the opening presents itself. Perhaps....
Stacey: That's part of the reason why I asked to ride with you Tyrone, I don't know what these guys are capable of, but I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me.
She turns towards him and places her hand on his, her eyes catching his gaze. He nods his head silently towards her as his eyes return to the road, finally seeing his exit. He turns off the highway and makes his way through the next city, pulling up to the hotel as his mind races.
The scene fades away briefly before returning inside the hotel. Stacey walks next to him quietly as it so happens their rooms are next to one another. As they stop in front of their respective doors, Stacey slides her card and opens the door, she takes a step in but stops and looks over at him.
Stacey: I don't say this often, but thank you Tyrone.
Tyrone: Don't mention it. After all people might take me for growing soft.
He winks towards her, eliciting the same giggle as before as she places her bag in the room before leaning over and wrapping her arms around his neck. The scent is intoxicating, his mind almost spinning in circles as he closes his eyes.
Tyrone: You know for someone that presents herself as a hard nosed interview, you're kind of a softie yourself.
Stacey: Only when I'm comfortable.
Her voice sultry, her very aura shattering his well guarded persona, he can feel himself getting dizzy. She pulls back a bit and looks him in the eye, his jaw slacked slightly. She leans in, his eyes closing, as she kisses him, his arms instinctively wrapping his arms around her as the tension quickly turns to desire. Their hands roam all over one another, the loneliness of the road eroding away yet the small fire of guilt smoldering in the back of his mind. Yet it extinguishes quickly. It was too late, the carnal desires overriding his instincts. He pushes the door to his room open as they move swiftly inside, their hands still exploring one another. She pushes off of him and falls onto the bed. He notes how her leg bends just so, the way her skin glistens. He pulls his hoodie off as he stares down at this goddess as the scene fades away briefly.
It returns now as he is sprawled out on his bed as Stacey is standing, brushing her hair back as she looks back at him with a satisfied smile. She slowly walks towards the door and looks back once more, blowing him a kiss.
Stacey: Goodnight Tyrone.
And just like that she was gone. He closes his eyes as he replays the past hour in his mind, the embers of guilt returning once more. It was just the one time he reminds himself, it possibly couldn't mean anything. Just then his cell phone rings... he stares at the name for a moment before answering.
Tyrone: Hello? Hey baby, no I just got to the room here...
**************************************************
The scene fades away again, this time coming back into focus in a darkened locker room, Tyrone sits on a simple folding chair with his hands clasped in front of him, his head lowered with his hood up over his face.
Tyrone: Mark Keaton, the last time I saw you in the ring the Tag Team Titles were stolen from myself and my partner. I haven't forgotten what you and that loudmouth Justin Cooper did that night, and you will know the consequences for those actions soon enough. However, I must also thank you.
He lifts his head up, his green eyes piercing through the camera as a smile forms and a chuckle escapes him. He rubs his hands together quietly before reaching down and grabbing his black athletic tape. He begins to slowly wrap his right hand, methodically going about the job.
Tyrone: The fact remains it helped open my eyes to what's really going on in WZCW. How I had relied far too long on a gimmick and a look. I was taken for granted. The scary man in all black that played mind games. They always forgot about the skills behind the facade, the years of training and the pain of surgeries to keep me going. I've put myself through physical hell to make it to the top. The scars show all over my body, from my shoulder to my knees. And yet here I am again, forced to prove myself all over again as the premier fighter in WZCW. It starts anew once more and you will be the first stepping stone to regaining what was once mine. The name Ty Burna was synonymous with greatness, a greatness that was held up as a legend more than what stared them all in the face. The days of Ty Burna's year long reign and undefeated streak have gone by the wayside, the diabolical schemes the ultimate fables told. The betrayals, the blood feuds, there all tied to a name that has been laid to rest.
He finishes wrapping his right hand and moves on to his left hand, once more meticulously wrapping it just right. He continues staring forward as he does so, his muscles tensed up all over as he speaks.
Tyrone: What once was, shall never be again. There is no more mind games, there is no more schemes to get what I want. The only strategy is straight forward and through my opponents. Night after night I will go out there and do what I do best!
His voice rises as he quickly snaps the last piece of tape off his left hand as he stands up and tosses the roll of tape behind him, bumping his fists together before holding them up to the camera.
Tyrone: All I need are these wrapped fists. I don't need the fans' approval. I don't need management to sign off on what I'm doing. All I need is between those ropes. Keaton, I'm here to make a statement that Tyrone Blades will become the new standard, no, the very top of what it means to be the best in WZCW and all over this god damn world. At Ascension, you're in for the fight of your life. Our chairs match will pale in comparison to what will happen when we go one on one. And I won't need barbed wire or chairs to do it. All I need....
He slams his fists together in front of the camera before turning his back away from it, picking up the chair and throwing it across the room.
Tyrone: Are my own two fists. Thus it is written, so it shall come to pass? No, you already know what's going down, you're getting cut down by the man named Blades.
Tyrone walks away as the scene cuts out.
Jeff Deliverer of Mail
Money for nothin, chicks for free
Mark Keaton kicked open the metal door and strode into the back area of Ascension Anarchy Episode 109. He had a sparkling luggage bag that he dragged behind him, he was wearing his black leather jacket, blue jeans and bright red sunglasses with a sneer on his face. He watched a security guard shake his head as he passed.
Uh oh.
He edged a lobby door open to see hundreds of WZCW fans making their way to the main doors of the arena, heading to their homes. Many excitedly talking about the matches that had transpired that night.
Oh shit.
Electric Avenue sang out from his cell phone. He quickly looked at the caller, it was Cooper. No doubt completely pissed off, I wonder who I was supposed to fight tonight? He let it ring until it stopped. His cell rang again, this time it was Norman Blip calling. Probably just as pissed, he let that call exhaust itself as well.
He spied Gordon Treadwater walking towards him with a towel wrapped around his neck and limping slightly. He had his hair dyed blonde and wore black tights with a white - RMK- on the back.
Dont tell me, ha ha! They used THE KING OF DARK MATCHES himself.
Dont laugh Mark, Gordon said as he removed the towel and wiped his face, management is super pissed at you for no showing tonight. Luckily with my hair dyed I sort of look like you from a distance.
Who was I supposed to fight tonight?
You had a title match against Austin Reynolds.
Marks eyes widened, Really? That little runt has a championship? What title does he have man?
The Elite Openweight Championship.
Whoa, wait a second Mark removed his sunglasses and smiled, Austin Reynolds is The Womans Champion of WZCW?!
What? What are you talking about?
You know dude! The Womans Champion! That Eve chick was walking around with that belt the last time I saw it. He mustve beat her for The Womans Championship! What a fucking coward!
I dont think youre grasping the conce
Nevermind Gord, I dont need to be Womans Champion anyway. It looks like I didnt miss much. Now that I have you here I think I owe you something from Unscripted. Remember? Mark dug into his pants pocket.
I wasnt there.
Here it is. Mark took his hand out and gave Gordon a middle finger. Gordon shook his head and kept walking towards the exit. Mark thumbed his sunglasses back on and continued to stroll toward the locker room area. Everyone was already gone, except a few referees and maintenance men.
Well, shit. Mark walked to the gorilla position then right down the ramp towards the ring. He silently watched the ring crew disassemble the ring and the cleaners sweeping the popcorn and mess the capacity crowd left in the rows of seats.
Mark squinted his eyes as there was one person still sitting in a seat near the back wall. The shadow cast over him made it difficult to make out any features of this person. An orange dot of a cigarette appeared, it grew brighter with portions of a face visible in dark orange light for a moment, then gone again, replaced by a cloud of gray smoke. Mark casually strolled up the row towards the figure, tapping his gold rings on the plastic seats as he made his way there.
Mom must be on another business trip. Mark said loud enough for the shadowed figure to hear, he crossed his arms and leaned back on a rail, not facing the figure anymore.
The figure leaned forward a little, leaving the shadow behind ..
Dallas O. Keaton
The father of Remarkable Mark Keaton. Currently residing in Colorado with his wife Marsha Keaton. Archeologist, singer and artist. Dallas has taken more of an interest in archeology in the past several years and was credited with finding the remains of Jesuss friend Samuel. There was no proof that he had a friend by that name or if really was a friend of Jesus. But Dallas had spun the story so well that everyone believed it. Plus the remains were so old that it made the story sound more credible. Dallas Keaton had two number one hits in the mid 80s, including .
Love me roughly
Dont call me so much.
.both rock classics. His love of wrestling was the main reason Mark had any interest in a career in the ring.
I was watching this event tonight,Dallas spat out in a slight English accent, when suddenly, my son Mark is announced for a match. Well, it looked like you were lined up for a shot at the little mans title.
I know, I know
Shut it. Then this other man comes out dressed like you. Fooled everyone in the building. .Dallas changed to a darker tone, except ME! What the bloody hell was I watching tonight?! Where WERE you?!
There was this blonde .
Shut it! I dont want to hear any more of your crap. You have to keep up the KEATON name Mark! Do you know what that means?
Rockin and Rollin till it hurts? Mark shrugged, he lit a cigarette and dragged deeply.
Thats why Im here. Im here to remind you who you are. Ive discovered a key that will take us inside The Temple of Keaton. Dallas smiled proudly at the announcement.
Fuck. Are you still going after that legend? Come on Dad! I know its just made up crap you used to tell me when it was bedtime. None of its true old man.
Its true. Its at this old lodge in Nepal. Some old timer has it on display right behind the bar if you can believe that. Here, check this out, Mark! Dallas unfolded an old newspaper article from 1985 showing the new bar being constructed and the Stone Key on display right behind the bar.
This smells like a quest. Mark scowled.
Your sense of smell never ceases to amaze me.
Nepal eh?
Nepal.
Why do I get the feeling that were going to take the cheapest way there possible?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[YOUTUBE]5TY5Fp6O5iM[/YOUTUBE]
Mark and Dallas Keaton arrived at the old lodge in the freezing winter night. They both took off their heavy fur coats and hung them on a rack as they eyed the rough crowd laughing at the bar through a thick cloud of cigar smoke. Dallas had his adventure gear on, a brown fedora and dark brown leather jacket and off white pants. Mark Keaton had a jean jacket on and torn up jeans.
Why do you have to dress like Indiana Jones man? Mark sat at the bar and signaled the bartender.
Why do you have to dress like a Springsteen knock off? Dallas sat next to him and nodded at the bartender as well.
What will it be Americans? A three hundred pound, long bearded bartender asked, not looking amused by his new customers.
Ill get a
Twenty thousand dollars for the key.
This old stone thing? Its yours, I was going to remodel the whole back wall anyway. Its been the same since the eighties.
Well, that was easy. Mark smiled and took a drink of beer. Then he noticed something odd .
He looked at the people in the place, they all looked to be around three hundred pounds, all with black, greasy hair. On the far wall by the entrance, there was a huge painting of Mikey Stormrage grabbing the WZCW title off of the rung at the top of the ladder against Constantine. There were two fat men worshipping a wooden statue of Mikey in a sitting position not unlike Budda. There was Taco Bell all over the menu.
We here at Mikeys are always reasonable. The bartender said as he took the money and handed over the stone key to Dallas.
Mark yelped as he looked at his glass, it was shaped like Mikey Stormrage. What the fuck is wrong with you people?
Were just huge fans of Mikey Stormrage bro!
Lets get the hell outta here dad! Mark ran for the exit followed by his father.
Im picking our transportation this time!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Prince Edward Island, Canada. ..
The Anne of Green Gables Museum was vacant during the middle of the day. Mark and Dallas roamed around inside until Dallas moved an old stove out of the way in the kitchen. Both father and son were in tattered clothing now from the long adventure that happened earlier but wont be seen unless you bought the directors cut of this RP.
They removed a dirty rug and revealed a stone slate with a keyhole in the middle. Dallas used the key and they opened the trap door, they climbed down a ladder into the basement. They uncovered an old passage and entered into a long cave that stretched into The Temple of Keaton.
They came up to a stone altar surrounded by round plates on stone, curved tubular arms that each attached to the side of the altar. There were shelves on the wall with long stone sticks on each shelf.
The table of the drummer. Dallas breathed out, in awe of the sight before him.
Rock on. Mark grabbed two stone sticks and was ready to start hammering the plates when Dallas scowled at him to stop.
Your family tree is filled with musicians Mark. You will see that when we get to The Keaton Crest. For now, let me lead here. Dallas consulted an old diary and threw a few handfuls of sand on the altar. He then weighed several sticks in his hands until he found the lightest of the two. He twirled the sticks and stood before the plates.
Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Dallas Keaton! Mark yelled as Dallas started to hammer on the plates as he slightly banged his head to the rhythm. The vibrations from the plates transferred to the altar, repositioning the sand on the flat surface and forming a sentence.
--- The left wall contains a knee high secret panel ----
Dallas stopped playing and they searched for the secret panel, Mark found it after a few minutes and it opened a new passage to a chamber filled with gold relics.
In the middle of the new chamber was a golden crest dominating the back wall, it was the Keaton Family Tree.
As you can see, Dallas said as he patted his sons shoulder,our family was a huge one, an important one. As far back as the Romans this crest shows famous Keatons, musicians .but also fighters. Every single one of them fighters. Ive waited my whole life to gaze at this crest. Every Keaton has to see this sometime in their life. But theres even something MORE amazing Mark! In the room to the right is the WALL of LIFE.
They entered the connecting room to a huge, flat wall made of dirt. The dirt wall looked like to was leveled with precision with one giant leveling tool. There was a marble head on the side of the wall, it looked a lot like Gene Simmons with his tongue sticking out.
A drop of blood will show you your life.Dallas whispered, he then grabbed Marks hand and poked his finger. He squeezed a drop of blood on the tongue of the marble head. The tongue went back inside the head and a guitar riff could be heard in the distance.
Thanks for warning me, Mark sucked his finger, I couldve pricked my own finger, prick.
The Wall of Life suddenly changed, dirt fell to the ground to reveal a wall full of sentences. Thousands of sentences to mark certain events in Marks life, from his past to his future.
Mark smiled at one line .
---- Mark Keaton and Justin Cooper defeat Phantoms of Chaos for the WZCW Tag Team Titles -----
Im taking a picture of that. Mark took out his cell phone and took a quick picture of the line.
Well, that was fun. Mark started to walk out of the room.
Dont you want to know what happens in your future? It could change the way you approach life as you know it?! Dallas was slack jawed at his son walking away.
Nah! I like surprises. Lets head back home, Im starving! Mark lit a smoke and started his way out of the Temple.
Dallas shook his head, he gave the Wall of Life a quick glance, he took a picture of one line on the wall then exited the room. More dirt fell to the ground as he left, smoothing the wall flat as they found it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Plane ride back to Detroit .
Im done traveling the world. Its exhausting. Mark let out a huge yawn, people nearby gave him rude looks. His cell phone buzzed and he opened it. It was a text from Cooper ..
Mark closed his phone after letting out a loud sigh, people nearby gave him another rude look.
Dallas watched his son drift off next to him. He smiled and moved a blade of blonde hair out of Marks face. He reached into his own pocket and flipped open his cell phone. He looked at his pictures and swiped sideways until he came to the picture that he just took of the Wall of Life hours ago
---- Mark Keaton defeats Tyrone Blades -----------
- Status
Similar threads
- Locked
- Locked
