Meltdown 153: Mark Keaton Vs Randy Studd

Discussion in 'WZCW Roleplay Board' started by Hyorinmaru, Aug 10, 2018.

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  1. Hyorinmaru

    Hyorinmaru Sit Upon The Frozen Heavens

    Dec 7, 2007
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    RP Deadline is Tuesday August 21st at 11:59pm EST

  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
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    24 hour extension granted.
  3. Tastycles

    Tastycles Turn Bayley heel

    Jun 16, 2008
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    A Scene from Rumblebows Records Store

    A pretty girl with blue hair is working behind the counter. She has several tattoos and piercings and is rifling through the records on the desk.

    Randy Studd enters. She was not a wrestling fan, but she knew he was Randy Studd because he was wearing his own t-shirt when he came in yesterday. A subsequent Google search during her lunch break led her to the surprising conclusion that this was the only Randy Studd shirt that the WZCW shop had sold.

    Ever the charmer, Studd approached the desk, but before he could reach it, the pretty girl dived away, and left her overweight, bearded male colleague deal with the incoming customer.

    "Can't I speak to her?" Asked Studd

    "No" replied the burly, hairy man.

    "I mean, you've got breasts, but not the kind I'm looking for!"

    "Can I help you?"

    "Yeah, I came in yesterday and bought this"

    Studd held up a CD that said 'Best Rock Anthems ever', before continuing.

    "I mean, I only got this because I want to show Mark Keaton that there is nothing remarkable about playing the guitar"

    "I have no idea what your problem is?"

    "Well, I only bought this cd because the commercial said it came with a free air guitar"


    "And when I got it home there was no air guitar with it."

    "Air guitars are non existent"

    "I know it is! I'd like you to give me one now."

    "No, as in, they are not a real thing. The advert is a joke."

    "No, the advert said free air guitar, and I'm not leaving until I get an air guitar."

    "But there is no such thing as an air guitar"

    "Yes there is, otherwise why would they say it?"

    "What is it then?"

    "I don't know, but it must be a thing"

    "An air guitar is something you pretend to be holding when you're rocking out to loud music?"

    "So it is a thing!"

    "Not really, no"

    "Well I am owed it"

    "Fine, here."

    The large man placed what is clearly an empty box on the counter. Studd looked puzzled.

    "This box is empty"

    "No, there's an air guitar inside. Watch"

    The man turned the store music up and as ACDC's Back in Black played, he 'picked up' the air guitar and rocked out, before putting it back in the box. Studd took the box, from the man who


  4. Jeff Deliverer of Mail

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

    Jun 15, 2015
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    Mark Keaton walked through the lobby of the busy hospital, he had on a tattered looking Toronto Maple Leafs jersey with bluejeans and cowboy boots. The Band-Aid on his sweaty forehead was already peeling off. There was no place on this planet that Mark hated more than the sterile, boring, depressing hospital with all the sad looking people, constant noise pollution and disturbances. He just wanted to go to the hotel, have a beer, relax and try to forget the terrible night he just had. He stood at the nurses station and waited until one of the nurses noticed him standing there.

    “Big Bad Roady.” He said with an air of impatience, he pumped a wad of hand sanitizer in his palm and rubbed it over his hands.

    The nurse directed him to the correct room and he nodded. He picked off the Band-Aid from his forehead and flicked it into a room occupied by a snoring old man as he passed by.

    Big Bad Roady, what a state my dude was in when I saw him last. Covered in blood, his head was just soaked, the trunk was disturbingly dripping with it. Unconscious, laying face down on the pavement, security and medic’s rushing around, bracing his neck, trying to figure out how they were going to move four hundred and fifty pounds of mass without hurting him. Ten of them managed to loud him into an ambulance. I wanted my match called off so I could go with him, but I knew it was too late in the show and it totally wouldn’t be allowed. So I had to press on and show that it didn’t bother me, that nothing happened and I was fine. But I wasn’t, I was distracted and couldn’t think straight during my important match with Eve Taylor. She straight up kicked my ass, then when she was done kicking my ass, she kicked my ass some more. No mercy at all, I really didn’t care. All I could think about was Meathead and if he survived, was in a coma, or just stitched himself in the ambulance and kicked off the back door.

    Mark saw the room number, Vanessa Roady walked past him as she came out of the room, she wiped some mascara from her cheek and didn’t acknowledge Mark at all. He wasn’t in the mood for love right now anyway. He nodded to himself, took a breath and walked in the room.

    There he was, his friend, hooked up to I.V bags, a wrap on his bald head, both eyes black and swollen and he was shirtless, showing the world his huge gut. He was out of it, sleeping away. Mark noticed a huge bruise on the side of the human bear’s gut, the size of a dinner plate. Must be where that bastard hit him with his special spear move. That has to be one powerful spear to take this mass of humanity down to the floor.

    He looked over to the other bed, empty. At least he has the room to himself. There was only one card from his sister so far, nothing else. Mark sat down on the chair and watched his friend breathe for the next three hours.


    3:15 AM

    “Hey....hey is that you boss? We have to get to the Lake, we have to talk to the witch....we have to.” BigRoad’s raspy, deep voice woke up Mark in the chair, he stood up and leaned closer to his friend in the darkness. But he could tell his friend was just speaking through drugs and he wasn’t really there at the moment.

    “Skulls Angels got me when I was getting in the car. Ha ha ha, now we really have to get them. I’m so high boss, looks like I won’t be fighting for that middleweight title in MMA, I won’t pass the drug test. Did you ask them if they were testing me? Ask them.....” BigRoad’s voice trailed off.

    “Hey, you wouldn’t make weight anyway, dude.” Mark whispered and patted BigRoad’s gut. He sat back in his chair and eventually fell asleep again.


    7:30 AM

    Mark waited after the orderly took in the breakfast tray, she set it on the cart next to BigRoad’s bed and smiled at him. He watched BigRoad’s nose twitch, then his eyes slowly opened.

    “Hey big meat, how you feeling man?” Mark smiled as BigRoad slowly moved to sit up.

    “Horrible. What the hell happened Mark? Was it Skull’s Angels? Why am I even alive?”

    “It wasn’t Skull’s Angels, it was Tony Mancini and his stooge.” Mark said, trying to hold his anger in check as he rolled the breakfast tray over to his friend.

    “Great, great. As if we don’t have enough trouble. A biker gang, now a mob boss. Why don’t we go and piss off the F.B.I while we’re at it. Oww, fuckin nose must be broken. It’s so sore.”

    “Don’t touch it, leave it alone dude. Eat your breakfast, I’ll see about getting your T.V turned on for you. Probably twenty bucks a day, rip off artists.” Mark left the room to get it set up for him.

    “I’m so hungry.” BigRoad said to himself out loud, he lifted the lid on his breakfast tray. Green jello, a bun and a small cup of milk. He picked up the bun in anger, squished it then mushed it in his jello, he poured everything in his milk cup and downed it like a shot.

    Mark returned, his T.V ordering mission a success. “Jeez dude, where’s the beef?”

    “They gave me nothing but jello and a bun. I could eat fifty of those trays boss. Can you get me something else? I’m starving.”

    “I don’t think you’re allowed man, probably got to x ray your melon or something. I don’t know how it works. Better just eat what they give you.”

    “Come on. I could STARVE! BigRoad roared like a bear, startling Mark.

    “Alright man, hold on. Don’t eat your arm or anything, I’ll see if I can sneak you in a happy meal or something.”


    9:25 AM

    BigRoad took his attention away from the small television as Mark entered the room. He had a paper bag of Wendy’s, he handed it off to his friend.

    “There, now don’t be tellin these sexy nurses I gave you food. Those fifteen cheeseburgers should hold you over till five at least. Dammit all, this is going to be a long few days with you in here.”

    “What,” Roady grabbed a burger and tore the wrapping off of it, “you don’t have to do that Mark, I’ll be fine in here. Go and be free, the nurses can take care of me. It sucks the big one in these hospitals, so boring boss, don’t stay. You’ll go crazy!”

    “Bah! Shut up man. We’re pals to the end. I’m stayin here until you’re allowed to walk out of the place.” Mark slapped BigRoad on the leg.

    “Huh, never had a friend like you. Don’t want to sound all sappy n shit, but I’m glad we met.” BigRoad fought back tears as he chewed on his burger.

    “Don’t mention it, Biggie.” Mark sat down, he kicked his feet up on the bed and opened a Reader’s Digest.

    “Crazy, all my life, I was the guy that beat the shit out of other people. I was the guy people looked to for back up, to intimidate other bike gangs, damn. Duran used to rely on me as a one man wrecking crew when we hit some stores. I’d be breaking jaws left and right.....but this, this is something I’m not used to y’know? It’s really humbling, being on the other side of the ass kicking. Now I know what it must’ve been like when I was beating the shit out of rival gang members, security guards, shop keepers, random people that pissed Duran off.”

    “That Mancini has a war coming to him. I’m telling you right now, man. He’ll rue the day he attacked one of us. He’ll rue.”

    “Rue like a mofo. Hey, check this out. There was a promo on after the show about next week’s episode of Meltdown. Look who your facing!” BigRoad turned the T.V so Mark could see, the volume was turned off but the graphic showed his face and pose vs Randy Studd’s cocky face and pose. Mark raised his eyebrows.

    “Randy Studd, it’s about time we collided. What do ya think BigBad? It’ll be forever known as The Battle of the Sex Symbols. Here I was, fighting off the women in WZCW, winning tag titles, beating up Live Mas left and right, terrorizing the whole locker room with Vis Imperium.....then this OTHER sexy beast comes along, claims he’s The Ladies Man! Take off, ya hoser! I AM the ladies man around the world of professional wrestling. He has to get it straight dude. You can’t just walk into my ring and claim such outlandish things. Who does he think he is?”

    “The gall of the guy.” BigRoad said with a mouth full of burger.

    “Not only that, I’m a demon on the electric guitar, a hero of the Canadian people. I can’t just sit by idly and let this guy run around claiming he’s better looking than me. We both know it ain’t true Meatball! But seriously man....” Mark lit a smoke and stood up, “I got to get my act together Meatball. I can’t keep losing match after match after fucking match. It starts on Meltdown, the Remarkable Rise of Mark Keaton. Then when the world see’s that I’m sexier, I’ll turn my attention to that snake, Tony Mancini. I’ll drive a boot right in his face!”

    “I’ll be watching Mark, you promise me you’ll get him next week.”

    Mark stood by the window, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth and the smoke curling up past his forehead and through his hair. He thought back to the attack again, like a nightmare picture snapped in his brain that burned a hole in there, never to be forgotten. The jarring, terrible cracking noise of that trunk slamming into his friend’s skull. The two snakes slithering away as he arrived on the scene, Big Bad Roady lying face down on the pavement, a pool of blood already forming around his head, blood on the trunk, dripping off. Mark wanted to scream at them a second time but it was choked off in his throat. He was in too much of a panicked shock seeing his tank of a friend obliterated before him, helpless, wounded. Mark turned back to his pal with a look of pure murder in his eyes.

    “I promise.”
    #4 Jeff Deliverer of Mail, Aug 22, 2018
    Last edited: Aug 22, 2018
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