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Post by The BombTrax on May 27, 2016 4:57:23 GMT
Sixteen Man Battle Royal (This match will determine the #1 Contender to the Titans of the Midway Championship) Bryan Williams, Flaming Youth, Amanda Reynolds, Alexandra Kelly, Nirvana, Nova Wonder, Ava, Johnny Sykes, The French Mime Assassins, Roy Baker, Redrum, S.O.B., The Lost Boyz, James Radford
One (1) Role Play Max
Final Role Play Deadline: Wednesday June 8th, 2016 @ 10:59 PM CST
Segment Deadline: Tuesday, June 7th, 2016 @ 11:59 PM CST
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Post by The BombTrax on Jun 1, 2016 5:09:37 GMT
*****THREE WEEKS AGO*****
Youth sat in an old wicker rocking chair on the front steps of the original plantation house, located on the south east edge of the property. The old house had been converted into offices and storage space for the amusement park, and several of the accountants and supervisors that ensured the parks day to day operations had passed by him with a nod. Julie, the receptionist, had even offered him a cup of coffee.
It wasn’t that wrestlers hanging about was not common place, but usually they were there to see Munin’s assistant, Ji, or the Lady herself. When they had inquired about his visit, he had simply stated that he was meeting someone here so that they could go off into the park. That in and of itself wasn’t all that curious, as even though no one was permitted inside the house, many of the guests of the park enjoyed taking pictures of the Victorian style home. It had the ambience of the ‘Old South’ mingled with the French impressions from when New Orleans was just a colony.
After a while the employees went on about their business, and he continued his rocking, anticipating seeing the reason for his visit. He had other things, however, working in the background noise of his mind, and sitting on that porch in the warm weather with the occasional breeze only drew that noise to the front.
He hadn’t seen a lot of action lately, and it didn’t sit well with him. Press was obviously the champion, so he deserved the center stage, but that didn’t mean that Youth wanted to put out to pasture. Ever since he took that Irish Knowledge nearly three months ago, things had been on the down turn. He was out for nearly a month and a half due to concussion, which along with other things, led to a short bout with depression, and him questioning his status on the team.
Then there was Stevie Harris and Lola, always nipping at Press’ heels, trying to get him to slip up so that Stevie could become champion. He was called the ‘Madman’ for a reason, as he had no problem inflicting serious injury in order to achieve his goals. Hell, he even seemed to get some perverse pleasure from it. Brass Knuckles, Hangings, a sycophantic fan base turned guard rail warriors. During his tenure with PAW, especially after Press won the championship, Youth felt like it was more important to watch his friends back rather than focus on his own career. Ultimately that culminated in getting directly involved, and a tag match which saw The BombTrax come out on top once again. Thankfully, Johnny Raike put the final nail in the coffin, and sent the enigmatic cult leader packing.
After that things had sort of gone quiet for him, and the spotlight was firmly placed back on Press, and his upcoming contest against CJ O’Donnell, a man he felt he had just as much right to face as anyone, considering what had happened. Yet, since CJ was the #1 Contender, his vengeance would have to be put on the back burner, which was a place he was becoming way too familiar with in the wake of his pal’s championship reign. Just three months ago that probably would have added to his depression, but currently, all it did was piss him off.
Now he was scheduled to be in a sixteen-man battle royal at Heat Stroke for the #1 Contendership to the Titans of the Midway Championship. That would have been enough to stoke his ego if he didn’t have the sincere feeling that he was expected to be just a warm body to fill a slot. He had voiced some of his concerns to Press, who in turn tried to reassure him, and then told him he’d speak with Munin about it. There was nothing worse than being reassured by your tag partner, who was worried you might be relapsing back into depression rather than having legitimate career concerns. Even worse, when he was one of the reasons, albeit inadvertent, that he was being pushed out in the first place.
A particularly cool breeze came flooding across the porch, dancing across his flesh, and giving him an abnormal chill. He looked up for the first time since his musings, and noticed Abigail standing on the bottom step, a sweet smile on her face. All worries fled him in that smile, and he returned it, before hopping up from his seat, and bounding down the steps to meet her.
“How long have you been standing here?” He asked.
“Long enough to see there’s a lot on your mind.” She answered, her smile growing even warmer when his hand met hers. “Are you sure you want to do this today. We don’t have to.” She stated, with deeper concern.
He shook his head ‘no’ with a mischievous smile, pulling her towards the pathway that would lead them back down into the park. “Oh, no! You aren’t getting out of this after making me wait two weeks for an explanation.”
She resisted his tugging, and her face went somber. “Jason, we don’t need to go towards the park. We need to go the other way.”
Youth looked over his shoulder in confusion, and then looked around him for another path, but there wasn’t one. “What other way, what are you talking about?”
“Back through the woods, over there.” She pointed a slender finger to indicate the direction, and he noticed for the first time that her hand was trembling.
He squeezed her fingers, and moved in closer, taking his free hand and using it to stroke her cheek. “What’s wrong Abigail? What is it that you are so afraid to tell me?”
Her face nuzzled into the palm of his hand, warm and soft, and she cast her dark doe like eyes up into his. “I want to show you where I live, Jason. I’ll tell you more after you see, is that alright.”
Youth stared back, searching for some further answer in her eyes, but finding none, he nodded his head in acquiesce. “Sure, babe. You lead the way.”
Abigail maintained her hold on his hand, and turned, leading him past the plantation house and off the main path. They trudged right through the open field surrounding the house on all sides, freshly cut sometime this week, and vividly green despite the recent heat. Every once in a while, Abigail would look over her shoulder at Youth, a smile framing the corner of her lips. He would wink at her, bringing forth the tinkling sound of her laughter.
Once they reached the tree line, Youth furrowed his brow a bit, and slowly came to a stop before entering. Abigail paused too, and turned to face him with a questioning glance.
“Abby, how are we going to get to your house from here?” he asked, looking past her into the dark woods.
“My house is just through these woods a ways. Trust me, it’s faster this way than trying to go all the way around.”
“I thought there was a fence up around the park? How do you get in and out of here?”
She nodded in confirmation, her face growing pert. "Yes, there’s a fence, but there’s a hole in it where we can slip through. It’s the way I’ve been coming and going for quite some time.”
Something about her mannerisms and voice change told him that last part was a lie, but he chose to ignore it in favor of getting some answers, so he simply nodded, and prodded her on. They plunged into the forest, which was dense, but not so much that you couldn’t navigate it rather easily. Every once in a while they would come to a gully, or a decent sized hill, which would require them to hand crawl their way up to the other side.
They passed by decent sized clearing where tire tracks could easily be seen, though it didn’t appear that anyone had been out here in some time. This was where Sam Xayachack’s Winnebago was parked, and after a brief search, Youth found the makeshift trail he had used to drive it out here. The thought of the former general manager, and the crazy bitch he had unleashed on PAW, caused him to shake his head. The company was just now recovering after all of their fiascoes, and was finally back on a competitive edge with the other indy resurgences. There was even talk of television coming soon, then PPV options, or possibly even a live streaming service.
After their break in Xayachack’s clearing, they continued further into the woods until coming to the fence line. It was about twelve-foot-tall chain link, with barbed wire looped through the top, but just where she said it would be, was a hole that had been cut through the links to the other side. He held the opening pulled back so that she could enter first, and then followed her through, letting the chain links clank off of one another on his way through.
They trudged on for a little while longer, and he was forced to reach up with the front of his shirt, and wipe sweat from his forehead. When he looked over at Abigail, however, she didn’t seem to be phased in the slightest.
“Man, all of this time out of the ring has got me out of shape. You’re doing a lot better than me, Wonder Woman.” He mused, chuckling a bit.
She looked over her shoulder, and her face grew concerned. “I’m so sorry. Do we need to stop for a rest?”
“That depends. How much farther now? By my estimation we’ve gone about two miles from the park, which means we’re heading into the state park section of these woods.”
She closed her eyes for a moment in concentration, and then looked over at him with a smile. “It’s not much farther now.”
Youth nodded, filing the question of what that was all about in the bank of many questions he had about Abigail. The two trudged forward for another half hour, until finally Abigail came to a halt, causing Youth to almost plow into her. Once he got his bearings, he looked past her shoulder at a creepy old shack, smack dab in the middle of the woods.
Tree’s grew all around the structure, and the wooden slates that the shack was made of were crumpling under the weight of a roof that had already partially given way. Birds fluttered around inside the place, and deep shadows moved along the walls eerily because of it. The stairs had long since rotted away, which left only an open archway that didn’t seem very inviting. He assumed that the floorboards were probably rotten as well, so anyone trying to go inside was walking into a death trap. The entire thing was built like a perfect rectangle, almost like a trailer, and was held off the ground by stone support structures at various stress points underneath. A few of these had fallen over as well, making the floors even more unstable.
Abigail let loose of his hands and made her way towards the open doorway, and he quickly rushed out to take her by the arm, halting her advance.
She turned to look at him in confusion as he stared at her dumbfounded. “You can’t go in there! That place is about to fall apart.”
“That place is my home, and I know where to step. If you want answers, now is the time to receive them.” She said matter of factly, shaking her arm loose, and proceeding to climb up through the entrance only to disappear in the darkness.
Youth watched on in utter disbelief, but he found himself moving towards the opening himself, and when he grabbed the arch for support in pulling himself up, Abigail’s coffee colored hand shot out of the darkness, and helped him the rest of the way. If it hadn’t been her, he would have thought he was in the middle of a horror movie.
Once inside he looked around, realizing for the first time that the interior was one enormous space. There was a fire pit in the center of the room, and stone lay all about, some having fallen through the floor, which must have been the remnants of a chimney. It also appeared that was the main culprit in why the roof had caved in on the opposite side of the room, which was now inaccessible. He scanned what looked like it may have been a table, shattered pottery and the worn out impressions of what would have been wooden utensils.
As his eyes drifted back to the floor, where something protruded from the main floor joist that caught his attention. He moved gingerly over to the object, making certain to check each board before committing to a step. When he finally reached it, he hunkered down into a squat, and examined the object with the flashlight on his phone. Much to his surprise, it was an iron ring that had been anchored directly into the joist. When he let his light flash across the rest of the floor, he saw that there were other such rings, all arranged in a neat, straight, row.
He stared at the configuration of iron rings in conjuncture with the rest of the cabin, and when it finally dawned on him what this building actually was, it was like a punch straight to his gut. He slowly stood up to his feet, and turned to find Abigail staring at him sadly.
“Why did you bring me here?” he croaked, still uncertain of what exactly was going on. An uneasiness had worked its way up his spine, the kind of feeling you get right before the ball drops.
“Jason, if you really think about it, you already know why.” She answered, grief gripping at her voice. “This is my home. I watched my mama cut up pig guts right over there, and my daddy whittle little toys for me and my brothers to play with.” She pointed over to the far corner, at one of the rings in the floor. “Right there is where I watched my papa whipped to death cause he bucked the foreman when he told him that I was ripe for the plucking.” She hung her head, and swung her dark curls in front of her face.
Youth shook his head, tears welling up into his eyes as the truth began to simplify in front of him as if it were a tangible thing. “This can’t be happening.”
She looked up meekly through her curls, and in a quiet voice continued. “I didn’t know at first, myself, if that makes you feel any better. The haunted plantation attracted my attention cause it was so close to the original, and I would perform my duties as a house servant. I’m sure many of the attendants were freaked out in the mornings when they would come to open up the attraction only to find everything tidied up and put away. But it was a haunted house, after all, so who would report such a thing?”
She paused, brushing the hair out of her face before continuing. “Then I met you. The first few times we talked, I had no idea. I thought you were just a strangely dressed visitor from one of the neighboring towns. I even thought that perhaps you were from one of the northern colonies, and they just dressed differently. But then you were the one who pointed the park out to me for the first time. I can’t tell you why, but for some reason, up to that point, I couldn’t see it. But when you told me the date it was if the entire universe began to unravel and be made new. I fled, if you remember. Scared out of my mind, I was, but then after I calmed down, I explored this new world. I found out that I was confined to the plantation grounds, which is why I could never go anywhere with you. Well, that isn’t exactly true, seeing as we’ve met before…..”
Youth crossed the room, not caring if he fell through the floor or not, and came to a stop right in front of Abigail, forcing her to look him in the eye. “What the hell do you mean by that? Who are you?” he said heatedly, feeling like a complete fool.
“I think you know…” she replied.
Youth fell back as if struck. He had heard that same reply nearly six months ago while staring into the mirror, just after he and Press had moved back to New Orleans. She was right. He did know.
In 2006 Press and Youth had been living in New Orleans for almost a year, and were doing odd jobs here and there to pay their rent. Some of those jobs included working for Samedi, who they had met early on in their stay, and had befriended them due to their mutual knowledge of the other side. He and Press had been on one of those jobs, hunting down some supernatural nasties out in the bayou, when Youth had been struck a fatal blow. Press rushed the dying boy to Samedi, and demanded the voodoo priests help. Eventually Sam agreed, enlisting the aide of his teacher, Minerva. The two of them warned Press that there would be a price for what they were about to do, but the big man didn’t care so long as Youth was revived. They used a spell of conjuring, bringing forth a restless spirit still tethered to the earth to go and retrieve Youth’s soul, and bring it back to his body. The spell was a success. Youth was restored, and soon after he and Press left New Orleans for good. Or at least, until about six months ago.
He looked up at Abigail in surprise, and she surmised that he had worked out a good bit of the details on his own, so she proceeded to fill in the blanks. “Minerva had no way of knowing who it is she’d conjure up to help restore your soul, just like I was unaware that I was haunting this place. When she put your soul back into your body, it required something to help hold it in place while the portal between worlds was sealed shut. I was that something. When you left New Orleans, you were non-the-wiser to my presence, and I was at peace in yours.”
Abigail looked to the inside of the room with a wistful expression before continuing. “But something about being in such close proximity to home called out to me. I guess sometimes there are bonds that tie you to a place, a person, some things. As my bond with this place grew, the bond between us waned, and I was able to venture farther and farther away, until I found this place. Then, much like you’re looking at me now, I remembered everything.”
“But…You…I….We….,” Youth sputtered, trying to find the words.
“Made love? Yes, we did. I’m sorry, Jason. I was completely selfish. We were drawn to one another because of the connection we had from so long ago, but I should have been honest with you the minute I realized what was going on. I was honestly afraid that if I had been though, you would have banished me from the start.”
Youth sat there staring at her, unable to even think. He ran a hand through his long stringy hair, and let out a deep sigh. “Ok. Well what do we do from here?”
Abigail smiled sadly, and started towards the door. “C’mon” she said over her shoulder before hovering out of the room.
Youth hung his head in shame and disbelief at the sight of that, realizing just now that he wasn’t imagining this, and it wasn’t a dream. ‘Some hunter you are,’ he thought to himself before following her out the door.
She led him around the shack to a copse of trees behind it, and he could see the remnants of what were once tombstones. Slaves couldn’t afford marble or granite, but would often make do with whatever rock they could find, chipping the person’s name into the smoothest part, and then setting it into the ground. She stopped in front of one of the graves, and he came to stand beside her, looking down at its face.
It read ‘Abigail’.
She looked from the grave to him, and gave a pitiful stare before making her request. “It’s time that I move on, Jason. It’s not healthy for this to continue, but you don’t’ need me anymore, for life or otherwise, and I don’t want to be stuck here anymore. Help me as I once helped you. Where I helped you come back, help me to pass on.”
Youth continued to stare at the grave, but he could feel her eyes on him, her presence. He could also feel the lump in his throat, and the tears welling up in his eyes. In a choked voice he whispered, “This isn’t fair…”
She reached over and pulled him into her, and he buried his head into her shoulder, sobbing, as she soothed him with coo’s and petting. They stood there by the grave of a girl long since gone, who had provided him on two separate occasions for a reason to live. He didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want to be without her at all. But he knew that was what was required, and the only thing that was fair. It didn’t change the fact that it sucked, and he was going to enjoy these last few moments together before it was over.
TO BE CONTINUED IN PRESS' RP! *****NOW***** The scene opens up with a shot of Janitor Bud, who is wheeling a trash cart around the side of the building over to the dumpsters that sit directly behind it. He pulls the cart up right beside the first dumpster, when a bag of trash comes flying out of the second one to crash upon the ground at Bud’s feet. Bud sputters in surprise as a second bag comes flying out, this time barely missing the elderly custodian.
Janitor bud growls, and steps over to the dumpster, banging his fist on it’s side. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
A head pops into view over the edge of the dumpster, and it’s none other than Flaming Youth, who looks around confused for a minute, and then spots Bud, and gives the janitor a boyish grin. “Hi, Bud!”
“I said, what the hell are you doing?”
Youth looks around for a minute, confused once again, and then see’s the trash scattered at Bud’s feet, and lights up like a bulb just went off over his head. “Oh yeah, that. I’m training.”
“Training?” Bud asked incredulously, shaking his head in disgust. “Training for what?”
Youth rolls his eyes, and one could guess if there wasn’t a dumpster in the way, had his hands on his hips. “I’m in a battle royal, Bud! Everyone’s talking about it. The winner gets to be the #1 contender to the Titans of the Midway Championship.”
Bud bangs the side of the dumpster again with his fist, his elderly eyes going bitterly cold. “And what the hell does making this mess have to do with training for a battle royal?”
“But, BUD! Hehehehehe.” Youth chuckles, as Bud stares at him exasperated, wanting answers. Youth twirls his fingers like a kid trying to explain a story that’s too much for him. “You see what I did there? Butt Bud! HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
As Youth falls back into the dumpster laughing, Bud grabs up one of the bags of trash out of his cart, and chunks it into the bin. The laughter comes to a complete stop, and Youth suddenly springs out of the dumpster to land on the concrete in front of him.
“What…The..Fuck..Bud?” Covered head to toe in slime, half eaten hot dogs, and coffee grounds, Youth’s expression reads of someone who might be capable of murder.
Bud, on the other hand, is the one laughing now, fighting back tears with a fist positioned over his mouth to hide his smile. “Serves you right, hooligan! Now go harass someone else.”
Youth shakes like a dog, slinging the larger bits of garbage off his person, before looking Bud directly in the eyes. “Listen, pal. I have to train for this battle royal, and you are not going to get in the way of that.”
“You still haven’t explained how dumping garbage out of a dumpster is helping you train?” Frank, the camera guy, adds helpfully.
Youth’s jaw goes tight, as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, FRANK…BUD….If you must know, that bag of garbage right there, that’s Alexandra Kelly, and that over there by Bud’s feet, that’s Johnny Sykes. I figured this battle royal would be a lot like taking out the trash, so I wanted to get some firsthand experience.”
Bud shakes his head. “You do realize that taking out the trash is me collecting the trash from the cans out in the park, and bringing them here to put in the dumpster. Not taking the trash that’s already in the dumpster, and tossing it back out into the park!”
“Well, of course I do, Bud! But that’s not going to help me, cause the trash cans are located all over the place, and my opponents are all going to start in the same place, so I figured by jumping the dumpster and tossing the garbage out, it would give me a little perspective on what the real battle royal’s going to be like.”
“You’re ‘special’, aren’t you kid?” Bud asks compassionately.
“You know what, Bud! I thought we were friends. I thought we were pals. But all you ever want to do is think about your trash, and your toilets, and all that other stuff. You don’t care about me, or what I’m going through. Fucking A, Bud, I’m in another match with enhancement talent. Don’t you understand what that means? The more you end up facing those guys, the easier it is to become one. I’m a superstar, God damn it! I can’t be enhanced!”
Youth stalks past the janitor, but not before cutting the camera man a menacing look, and beckoning him to follow with a nod of his head. Youth stalks back around the building before coming to a service door, in which he produces a key, and lets himself in. They continue on until reaching The BombTrax locker rooms, where Press is unlacing one of his boots after a sparring session. He looks up to see the camera, then over to his trash covered partner, then just shakes his head like everyone else does.
“Training again, eh?” Press asks, while Youth proceeds to get naked in front of God and everyone, including the viewers at home. Frank is quick to bring the lens up to waist level so as not to have to put an x-rating on the video.
“You know, you can poke fun all you want, but my methods are proven to work. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with thinking outside the box, just like there isn’t anything wrong with taking things quite literally. When I look on a hot show like Heat Stroke, I expect to see myself somewhere in lights on the marquis, but instead, I’m surrounded by fifteen other pieces of garbage, so yeah, the dumpster looked pretty fucking familiar.”
Press waves off the camera, which turns to follow Youth into the bathroom, and then stands outside of his shower as he pulls the curtain closed and rambles on.
“I mean, this is ridiculous. This entire match can be broken down into five categories. Firstly, the debuts. Nova Wonder, Bryan Williams, and The French Mime Assassins all make their first showings in this match. So what, now I’m bumped all the way back down to testing out the new talent. That’s the reason we have enhancement talent…which…of course, make up the second fucking category. So the first two groups basically make up over half the fucking match, meaning all that’s left is the retards, the whores, and the superstars.”
A few suds feed out from under the bottom of the shower, and the camera man is forced to back up.
“Wait, can I say retards? Oh well, too late now. You got folks like Johnny Sykes, Roy Baker, and Ava. Well, maybe that’s a little unfair. Ava’s probably not full blown retard, just slightly. Like the monkeys who eat their own poo. Johnny Sykes, though, yeah…he’s as big as they come. I figure all the women will team up on him and throw him over the top cause he won’t hit a girl. What kind of guy has gone through his entire life without ever wanting to slap the taste out of some bitch’s mouth, and when given the legal opportunity doesn’t take it? Well I’ve got news for you pretties in this match, I don’t care whether you look like some mongoloid like Nirvana who’s face once caused mass hysteria in Mexico, or a pretty little thing like Nova Wonder, who I’d like to lather up with butter and put on my waffle……wait….where was I going with this?”
There’s a pause, and just running water.
“Oh, Yeah! I’ll smack a bitch in a heartbeat. Just saying. As for the whores, well, I think you know who you are. Amanda Reynolds comes out here with her own personal douche bag, Joshua Samson, spouts off at the mouth with a little oral diarrhea, and then floats onto the back to never be heard from again. And you and Sammy were out there to “Observe”…
Air quotations above the shower curtain.
“Ava, in all her glory, which is more than a little creepy. I mean, that’s like van by the preschool creepy. Besides, it’s one thing to call her a retard, it’s totally another to try and bone a retard. You guys are sick!”
If the camera could see it, there’s probably a wink.
“Oh, and I apologize for the visiuals in this promo, or the lack there of. If you didn’t know, I just winked.”
Told you.
“Anywho, so then you got Alexandra Kelly, and I mean, that’s one nasty whore. Not on account of the fact that she’s ugly or anything, but mostly because she’s vicious in the ring. I mean, did you see the way she put away Roy Baker and Kelsey Spencer in that Heat Stroke Preview Match? Like Slurpee’s in a trash can, and let me tell you…..no one can trust a bitch who can take down a Slurpee that fast!”
This time he pulls the curtain back just enough to stick his face through, and his hair is spiked up into a unicorn horn with shampoo. He flashes the boyish grin, and then another wink before disappearing back behind the curtain.
“And of course, there’s one more whore to contend with in this match, and that’s The Midnight King, Nirvana. Now a lot of people would probably wonder why he fell into this category, but it makes a whole lot of sense if you think about it. Here’s a guy who already owns his own wrestling company, Strike Towers, yet he’s moonlighting over here at PAW. A guy who’s already been a success in nearly three generations of wrestling, who won’t just get the fuck out of the way for the newer and younger talent, well…that’s a whore. It might not be the kind of whore who hits her knee’s for a dollar, or will take teacup behind a Jack In The Box at four in the afternoon, but it’s still a whore. The kind of prostitution, that quite frankly, makes this fellah right here sick.”
At the bottom of the camera, you can see that Youth’s feet have turned, to where he’s now facing the camera full on…..but behind a shower curtain.
“Nirvana, maybe you just want to try your hand at new competition. Maybe you still crave the taste of gold that all in this business eventually become gluttonous for. Hell, maybe you’re just fucking bored. But don’t sit there and tell me and the universe about all the shit you’ve done, and how everyone else can’t measure up because of your experience. PAW isn’t your grand pappy’s wrestling show, and we’re not the Viagra for your brittle old career. I would tell you to put that in your pipe and smoke it, but I’d avoid open flame at your age, as that paper like skin of yours might just go up in a blaze.”
The water is turned off, and a hand darts out to grab for a towel. A few seconds later the curtain peels back, and out steps Youth, the towel wrapped around his waist.
“And that leaves only one category left; SUPERSTAR!”
Jazz hands.
“But wait…there’s only one name left out of the sixteen. Whoever could it be? Oh…that’s right.”
Fonzie thumbs.
“It’s Me!”
Boyish grin, followed by a wink.
“And you know what makes up a superstar. Being fresh and new every damn time you come out to that ring. Stepping up to the plate and enhancing your performance week in and week out. Hell, sometimes you have to get a little retarded, and other times you need to know when to be a whore. Superstar is all about pimping yourself to the masses as the baddest mother fucker on the planet, and if they are willing to believe it, then shit…why can’t you?”
A slight smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he looks sidelong at the camera.
“Come on, guys, can’t you feel it? I just took what was probably going to be a cluster fuck, a washed up piece of time out of your career, and turned it into pure gold. And that was just with my words. Come June 9th, at Heat Stroke, you’re going to find out just how much I’ve upped the ante on our little meeting. God damn, you’re going to find out what being a superstar is all about!”
With that, he whips the towel off and tosses it at the camera before the lens can pick up any nudity. The towel covered camera man is then forcibly shuffled out the door, and it can be heard slamming in his face. Frank yanks the wet towel from off his head, and turns the camera to where it’s facing him.
In a harrowed voice, he shakes his head, and says. “I need a new fucking career!” before the camera feed cuts to black.
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Nirvana
PAW Cub
The Midnight King
Posts: 11 
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Post by Nirvana on Jun 1, 2016 23:58:26 GMT
In 1998 Nirvana invested in a trained American Black Bear. The two would wrestle each other around various Southern states such Texas and Louisiana. Eventually the duo would travel outside of the United States into Parts Unknown. In 2015, while man and beast wrestled in PWA, a reanimated Walt Disney dubbed this team the "Bearhuggers". Together, with Nirvana's young son Billy in tow, they wage war with all of humanity in the name of JUSTICE. If you hear the the growling of a wild beast and the laughter of a child in the distance beware for you have crossed...  We open to the midway. The lights from the various rides and features of the midway are so bright they're blinding. Across the way, walking down the center of the midway next to the food vendors is Nirvana. The large man is dressed in his best baby blue suit. At his side is Boris the Bear, Nirvana's trained wrestling bear. Nirvana walks like a boss down the midway, ignoring the growing crowd of fan following him. Boris growls at the crowd but they don't seem to notice. Probably a pretty bad mood considering Boris is a god damn bear. "So we're here on the midway with the rest of the carnies tonight. It's a very lovely night. I can smell the funnel cake in the air and it's amazing." Nirvana pauses for a moment in take in the smells of the midway. He smiles wide. "These sights and smells bring back memories of the old days. Back in the old days we would wrestle for hours in front of these carnival crowds. It was a moment in time that cannot truly be recreated but PAW does it's best. I've enjoyed my time in PAW so far. It's been a blast even if my match wasn't recorded last week. In fact you missed one hell of a match. I put my opponent through hell. I even slammed him down on a bed of barbed wire but you'll probably never see it. It's a shame and that's why I have to make this week matter." "This week I have to take the violence to a new level. I have to make sure sixteen other wrestlers leave the ring bloody and beaten. Now, it's true I'm old. Hell, I have my own doubts about this. Can I truly go toe to toe with the best carnies in America? Well, I think I can. Not only that, but I know I can. I can fight, I can overcome the struggle and kill the doubters. Listen to the truth I speak." Nirvana continues to speak to the camera. Boris is starting to get quite annoyed by the growing crowd. The American black bear lets out a loud roar but again, the crowd ignores him. "I'm an original carnie. That's why they call me The Midnight King. I have a reputation of of hitting the ring after midnight and showing these young cats a thing or two. It's just my nature. So rest assured, I'm hitting the ring with the intention of destroying everything in my path. I could even care less if I win or lose because, quite frankly, I don't need a belt or a chance to win a belt. All I need is my mask, my bear and my pride. Nothing any of these guys could do would strip me of my pride." "When you look into my eyes you will see determination. I am determined to come out and make a point. I'm not headed t the ring to win, let's get that straight. I'm coming to make a point and little else. It's my place to prove to you that I am, without a doubt, the most dangerous man in this sport. Old as I may be, you take a punch from me and you'll fly across the ring like a sack of rocks thrown out of a car. I'm going to hurt people, guaranteed." Suddenly Boris grows far too annoyed for his own good. "In addition..." Before Nirvana can finish his sentence Boris rushes into the crowd! People start to run away but they find no escape from the wrath of Boris the bear. Nirvana rushes into the crowd as well in an attempt to stop Boris from mauling members of the crowd. He's almost successful until Boris literally lunges upon a carnie dressed as a clown. The clown lets out a loud cry of pain as Boris takes a swipe at his chest, destroying his shirt and leaving a deep gash. "Jesus Christ! Boris! Stop before they call animal control!" The clown passes out at the sight of his own blood. Nirvana tries to pull Boris from the poor man but the density of the crowd makes it far too difficult to do so. Nirvana let's out a loud cry of help. Before long the Animal Control vehicle shows up, nearly hitting a few people in the crowd. Out of the large white van comes two men dressed in what appears to be riot gear and armed with rifles. "Boris, run for it!" -To be continued- |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 2, 2016 15:53:43 GMT
●out of character● Good luck to everyone. PS. Never forget this is a game.●next match● Sixteen Man Battle Royal ●Aren’t you ever getting tired? Wasting your talent like this. Week after week the same scenario. Triple Threat. Fatal Four Way. Blah Blah. No matter what the circumstances had been.- Alexandra Kelly beat the odds. Was she thrilled about this Battle Royal? Not in the slightest. She was a hard worker. Always on top of her game. But all of that meant little to nothing in matches like that. One moment of slipping and some unworthy leech would burst your bubble. Fantastic. But of course we could still pretend PAW was all about chances and fairness. Oh bitch please. Apart from herself and Johnny Sykes neither of those people had done shit in this place. Apart from signing a contract and getting hyped for nothing. Look I have done this and that in another company. Check it out, I try to ruin this company. Rewards for morons. Memo to self, idea for a possible reality show. This was a disaster in progress. She had been pissed for a while. Feeling as all of this was just meant to lead her on. Why am I here again? Was it to reach the top of the company, or once again being the doormat for huge egos. The Pixie felt a constant itch in her middle finger. It was more effective than trying to make sense out of this. From her to the world, zero fucks given. Nobody gets justice. People only good luck or bad luck. ~ Orson Welles●●●●●●● ●Birth of the Pixie 5.1●LOCATION: West Palm Beach; FloridaCAMERA STATUS: ON/OFFFlashback I/II
Springtime 2005It felt like she had been begging for a lifetime. With always the same frustrating answer. That is not the place for you to be. A Kelly does not belong with the dirt, leave alone going there with a guy beneath her standards. This was supposed to be one of the biggest nights in her life.- yet she sat in her room alone. Looking at the black dress she had bought. Working so hard to get the money together. Sure her parents were rich. But very soon in her life she had learnt the lesson of not asking for much. The phone was going off again, Trevor. You gotta pick up. Tell him you can not come. It’s only prom night.One has to understand back then Alexandra Marie Kelly was nothing like the person portrayed nowadays. She was innocent. Hadn’t seen anything of this world. Not its beauty nor its cruelty. Insecure by a non loving father and a submissive mother. Just a young woman that could not quite understand how much bad luck was in store for her.The ringing had stopped. Only to be replaced with a peeping noise, text message. She had just finished reading and ready to text back.- when her door kicked open. In the frame stood her big brother, that friendly grin on his face. Danger. David Kelly was everything but friendly. A sadist. A monster. And an abuser. He would not wait for a reaction when walking inside, letting himself fall on the huge bed.
“Shouldn’t you be all prepped up and ready to dance?”Asshole.“You know that father does not allow me to go… .”He reached forward running his fingers over her cheek. It took a lot to not scream out. Another lesson for live.- do not scream. It only motivates them further. Punishment reaching a new level.“But father ain’t home. I am here to watch you Alex. Which is getting really boring.- I hope that you at least try to sneak out.”
“What for? You would catch me and… .”Biting her tongue so hard that she could taste her own blood. His hand ran from her cheek down to her shoulders, touching her naked skin. Every muscle in her tiny body would feel tense. Just breath. You will survive this. Always.“Don’t be a lemon Alex. I am bored and come here with a great offer. Of course you can not go to your prom with that frog. What was his name again, Travis… .”And there it was. Trying to provoke her again, something she had fallen for several times in the past. But not tonight. Instead she gave her best fake smile, looking up at him.“...but I can accompany. We don’t have to tell anyone. And if you behave I might let you dance with your little friends. What you say?”She took several moments to let that sink. Before making the single biggest mistake in her life. Agreeing. Looking back at this.- she should have known it was a trap. But little do you know when being 17 years young.- naive and always hoping. She was nodding her head rather slowly.“Fine. You do realise how generous that is of me, right? You better reward me at the end of the night. And be a good girl Alex… I would hate to harm you.”Bullshit. David was quick to remove his hand and leaving the room. But not without giving her that dirty look. He was the type of person that made you feel naked and vulnerable. Not exactly what a big brother was supposed to do. Inside her body she felt adrenaline and endorphines fighting a big battle.“I am going to prom.”She was looking at herself in the mirror with one of those rare smiles appearing.Later that Night...Alexandra always hated his car. It was too big. The sound system too fancy. Whenever she got inside of it, no good memories were created. Sickness was spreading in her stomach as they got closer to her school. Alexandra was ready to face the real world.- explaining herself to Trevor. But that was never going to happen. David was taking a sharp turn, locking the doors.“What are you doing?”
“You did not really think I would go there with you? Alex, don’t you ever learn. I have something way better planned. Just you and me. My beloved little... sister.”He pronounced the last word with a weird mixture of lust and disgust. From afar she saw a sign that ready MOTEL. One of those cheap places that would rent their rooms for hours. He took his eyes from the road to look up and down her body. Only sparing her face. His hand finding its way to her knee. Shoving that dress higher, exposing her naked legs.“Tonight I will make you a woman. Finally.”The sickness was becoming hard to ignore. Knowing her elder brother this was no empty threat. And what was a 100lbs lightweight going to do about it? Live or die. Give up or fight back?
●Warcry of the Pixie 5.2●LOCATION: Purity, LouisianaCAMERA STATUS: ON/OFFSleeping was overrated. That was what you said when you were young. Careless about the next day. But that statement lost its power when you had a busy working schedule. It was no surprise so many people in this business seemed to suffer from Insomnia. Can’t sleep? Take a pill. Alexandra had tried that before, it hardly did suit her. There was always a negative side effect.It was one of those nights she had only for Jack and herself. Spending time in their new house, along with the dogs. For whatever reason it helped her to come down.- but at the same time made her feel restless. It was hardly 3am when she rolled out of bed. Looking back Jack Nomad, who was deep asleep. The guy literally could pass out everywhere, there were pictures to prove that. Closing the door without a noise, she walked down the stairs. Both dogs looked at her, but only to get comfortable again.“Fun. Everyone in this damn house can sleep.”She was whispering to herself while sinking down at the kitchen table. Everything still looking the way she had left it a few hours ago. The laptop open. Her tea still in the cup.“Might as well make something productive.”With a few quick moves she had her hair up in a pun, putting her legs on the massive wooden table. The camera set on her. Different than some females in this industry.- her looks were not all that important. She wouldn’t get depressed when spotted without makeup.“Do you know what happens to a fighter that doesn’t get the satisfaction that is required. Needed. They get frustrated. They strike without thinking twice. No matter what the consequences are. I have been patient PAW. I devoted myself to you and this people, for what? To be ignored. No wait, you think of this as an amazing chance. The person that wins can claim to have beaten half the roster. Guess what? I have done that already. But it did not make you recognise me the way I have earned. So what do you people expect from me? Swallow my anger and just be a good employee? Right. That did not work back then and I must be honest.- I don’t see it happening now. At first I thought that you probably just have no idea how to run this place. By now I think you are just ignorant pricks. I do not say that without me PAW would be worthless.- but look at the statistics. Look at the money my merchandise made you. And then tell me once again that this is a chance. Fighting every show as if it was for my life. For me this is more than a saying though, because most nights it is exactly that. My life on the line.”Alexandra would sip from the cold tea.- trying to keep a straight face. It was pure and simple, disgusting. Bitter. Like the thoughts running through her pretty head.“Whatever I have or had in this business.- i earned. I fought my way up numerous times, so do not tell me about chances. While some of us had to battle up to even be in this match, others only had to sign with the company. Fair, huh? But I guess it helps when you are having a big name. Or you tooting your own horn on social media. Listen to me Munin… “She looked directly into the lense. Her mouth a thin line. “...or shall I call you boss? Put away the fact that we are friends, because right now that doesn’t mean shit. Ignore that I have been working double as hard as most your superstars. I hate to tell you girl.- but you fail at what your job requires. It doesn’t matter if you hear people boo at the shows, the cheers are still louder. The Team Pixie followers fill your shows. You can look past most things, but not what the audience wants. Frustration makes people do awful things. It growls inside their souls, eating them alive. I have only one thing to say to you Lady Munin. Whatever happens at Heat Stroke, you are to blame. Not anyone else. Letting cancer in this company, even in my match.- careful what you wish for.”It was as if someone hit a switch with the last word coming out, the expression of her face changed. There was the hint of a smile.“I am not quite sure what i am supposed to do. Am I just sitting here reading names off of a list and trash talk them. Why? How is that entertaining? Not that I wanna point fingers at anyone, but I highly doubt that people wanna suffer through this. It must be horrible to remain with the stereotypes. I am bigger than you, I win. I have been a superstar, I win. I stick my dick into the boss, I win. Just trying to cut it short for you folks. None than less there are some people you can not ignore. Not necessarily because they are famous.- but something about them rubs you off. Good or bad. What about Nova Wonder. Isn’t she quite the doll. So confident. Of course to stand next to Calvin you need an ego, or big balls. In her matter both things could be a fact. Where are you lovely? Creeping around on social media, starting shit with old guys. I mean eek but to each their own. People all buy the Nova Wonder shirts, help me raise money. I hear they are pretty cheap and can be used for all kind of fun stuff. Cleaning the kitchen. Bonfires. But all jokes aside, I do not doubt the girl can wrestle. But so can most of the people in this match. There is nothing special about Nova. Nothing that will be remembered. We ask for your best shot.- which would start with finally getting your ass up. Pretty please.”She was hearing noises upstairs, probably just Jack rolling around. He wouldn’t wake up for another few hours. Lucky bastard.“Maybe after Heat Stroke Nova can join the Mimes? No offense on that matter.- just looking out for the girl. But who looks out for good old Nirvana? Yeah the strange dude that recently fell face first into PAW. He looks like a cuddly teddy, but I won’t get into one of his hugs. I hear they leave a foul scent in your nose. Do I worry about the big guys in this scenario? Not really. Or the crazy folks like Redrum. They have to understand that there is crazy.- and then there is batshit crazy. Second category includes myself and Jack. There is no backing down or stopping before we hit the very bottom. There is no other way possible. You have to overcome yourself to become a bigger person. Keep that in mind when you enter my ring. There are no excuses for failure. Apart from not being good enough. Sometimes you can not escape destiny. Other days you gotta slap it hard in the face. And Jesus, so many dumb faces to kick in. Speaking of Amanda Reynolds. A horse among humans, mostly seen on all fours. Down on the floor.- where she belongs.”Taking her legs off of the table , a little crack heard. Alexandra stood up making it over to the kitchen sink, filling a glass of water. The viewer was getting a good idea what Miss Kelly was wearing at night. Hotpants combined with a Jack Nomad wifebeater shirt.“Excuse me. I had a very bad taste in my mouth. Disgusting even. No worries folks it is just the presence of Miss Reynolds. Does it really take a genius to figure out who attacked Kelsey? First Fuckface Samson complains that his toy is not in the match. BOOM! Kel goes injured. But you know what Amanda.- I do not give a fuck how you got in the match. It matters how you exit. So let me make you a promise here and now.- it will be coming from me. And different than you cowards.- it won’t happen from behind. I will look in your manly face and push you off the cliff. On the way down you will meet some of your old buddies. Who have made the same mistake. You do not come to my house and take a shit without cleaning up your mess. I will treat you like a bad dog, rubbing your face in. Because let's be honest here for a moment.- you are nothing else. A dog that is after a bone. Desperate like only slores can be. Mistake me for an easy victim and I tell you.- Samson will love you even more. I hear it sucks better without teeth.”Alexandra was winking into the camera.- almost looking satisfied. But that was far from what she really felt. Satisfaction was hard to get these days. If you wanted more than a quick fix.“Talking about this dumbo reminds me i gotta call my dentist. I feel dirty. We gotta talk about something more nice. Let me think.” She scratched her head a moment, smiling. “Johnny Sykes and Roy Baker. Yeah that works. Two good guys. One a little confused and the other.- arrogant but in the right amount. I have been in the ring with both and they got their shit together. I would love to say this is enough.- but the truth rests somewhere deeper. I do not have to be your enemy to fight you hard. Striking you down. As a matter of fact it will drive me even further into this. Knowing that you are able to hold your ground. Which automatically leads to one of the newest faces in this company. Bryan Williams. Well known and praised. A big name out there in the big world of wrestling. Title reign and what not included. Also someone I have been running into several times when attending shows, as a fan. This man definitely is what you consider a wildcard. On a good day Bryan Williams is one of the greatest.- on the others, just another face in the crowd. No offense to him, but come Heat Stroke, it will be a very bad day. None of past achievements do matter in Pure Amusement Wrestling. This place is different than anything you have seen Bryan. Question is, are you ready for that new experience? You are someone that has my respect, whatever you wanna make of that.”She was letting out a soft giggle, rubbing her temples. No sleep, we ain’t becoming friends. Not now. Alexandra was almost tempted to splash water in her face. But then decided this was a horrible idea. This was not girls gone wild. Her voice was strong yet a little more quiet than before.“Look at me.- working against my own nature. I didn’t wanna go through a list. But then again I feel it is a matter of devotion to pay attention to every opponent. If they deserve it or not. Right Youth? The only superstar in this match. His words not mine. Look I don’t wanna come off rude.- but what the fuck? I have been doing this job for quite a while and before joining PAW… I haven’t even heard of you. Or taken care of the fact that you are existing. So what exactly makes you a superstar honey? I am not asking for myself, a friend wanted to know. Wanna know its name. Sense. Because half of the things you had to say did make zero of that. But you are right about one thing, I can swallow a lot. And rather quick. But you have never seen me spit it all out. So baby boy you might wanna call me bitch, but if so.- do it right. It is The Bitch. And if we wanna be correct you gotta add.- The Bitch that did castrate me.” Again she laughed. “Just kidding. Your dong is safe. I think.”A yawn. So that was the medicine. Talk about boring stuff and sleep will come. She was stretching on the kitchen chair, almost losing balance.“I could go on another about all of this.- but I guess we got the basics covered. To everyone that didn’t get mentioned, lucky. We will come to this another night, maybe. Unless you become a footnote just like most wannabe superstars. I will leave this ring as the number one contender. Why? Because there is zero chance I let anyone take that from me. It does not matter where you come from or where you going to.- this is mine. Dreams are good to have, but reality will kick you in the ass. You can spread the word. Praise yourself till we all heard the same speech, again and again. It is your performance i the ring that decides your fate. Fuck what everyone thinks of me. I am in this match for one person.- Alexandra Kelly. If the chance appears I will fuck each and every of my opponent over. With a smile on my face. It is a cruel world, better be prepared. And come Heat Stroke… PAW will be the mecca of the Pixie. Cheerio and fruit loops.”She blew a kiss into the camera before closing the laptop, without even turning it off. In a zombie like state wandering upstairs, to find Jack Nomad spread over the whole bed. Awake. He gave her a devilish grin removing the sheets.
“Girlfriend, Boyfriend fun?”Both smiled when she crawled onto the bed.●Evolution of the Pixie 5.3●LOCATION: Purity, LouisianaCAMERA STATUS: ON/OFFFlashback II/II
Springtime 2005Three days. If she was still aware of day and night. He had brought her here three days ago, keeping her locked inside this cheap room. Her body was bruised, the dress fully destroyed. It was no empty threat when he said, I will make you a woman. At first it hurt. After a few times her whole body had turned numb. She had given up talking sense into his head. You could not get through manic people. Alexandra Kelly had lost herself. With every assault it became more violent, making her pray for the end. It was hard to understand how you could ever be ready for death. But sometimes the pain would overcome every positive feeling you had. Or could remember.He is coming. She talked to herself in silence. Almost comforting herself, her small hands rubbing over those bruised arms. David Kelly had kicked the door open, in his hands some fast food.“Brought you some fresh clothes. You start to smell.”Alex wouldn’t dare to answer instead she tried to get up from the bed. He expected her to take off his jacket and shoes. Better be quick, you know what happened last time. She kneeled down in front of him, undoing his shoe laces.“You start to learn. Finally.”He would set down the bags stretching out his arms in some sort of Messiah pose. The dirty leather jacket had his scent all over, combined with other things. Some she could name, the others completely new.“One of those days I will rip you apart. No one will ever think of you again Alexandra.”There it was again. That mood swing. His voice sounded collected and calm.- but she knew better. It was that very moment that her instinct kicked in. After three days and two nights of not eating proper. Being raped numerous times by her own brother. It was time to fight. Everything happened so fast, he had no chance to react. All he felt was all air leaving him, his throat being choked while she brought him down. Size did not matter if it was about surviving. She was running on adrenaline and fear. The shoelace. He kept kicking. Trying to get a hold of her, overpowering her. When he landed flat on his face, Alexandra knew he wasn’t dead. But he was out for at least the time being.Crack!She looked at her hands, obviously broken several fingers when not letting go of the lace. Her eyes fell on the body. That was all he would be after today. A body. Panic overcoming her body as she searched for his car keys, storming out. One last look, no more fear in her expression.“Never again.”With that she stormed into the night.- or limped. That day the Pixie got born. An alter ego so to say. Leaving all insecurity behind, growing up. Survive or Give up. Those words never had been more true to Alexandra Kelly than this night. You can not destroy something that created itself from the ashes of a childhood trauma.The Pixie Effect
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Post by Double F C on Jun 2, 2016 20:18:13 GMT
A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MIME
Following the disappointing results of the New Japan Fighting Championship Tag-Team Tournament, the team of Francis Ford Cuppola, Comme Çi and Comme Ça (the French Mime Assassins), and Francis’ assistant Rodney P went their separate ways. Francis, as you know, never stopped searching for new ways to get his foot into the wrestling business, the mimes, presumably, mimed, and Rodney had taken his hiatus to regroup and tour Japan. Now, after a month of gathering his bearings, Rodney P found himself sitting in the back of a limo across from his ignorant employer already wishing he was back on vacation. Francis Ford Cuppola: Read my mail please, Rodney? The elder filmmaker handed Rodney a stack of envelopes. Rodney leafed through it with a sharp inhale and a rolling flutter of his eyelids as he saw some of the dates stretch back well past the moment the team had left for Japan to train the French Mime Assassins. Rodney P: Francis, some of these go back a year. Francis Ford Cuppola: I know. I don’t get envelopes. Rodney eyed Francis’ elderly innocence with that casual disbelief he’d taken to wearing like it were his own skin. Rodney P: You don’t get envelopes? What’s there to get? Francis Ford Cuppola: See this? Francis offered an upturned finger. Rodney squinted at it without seeing what Francis was drawing attention to before Francis pulled it back and looked for himself.
Francis Ford Cuppola: August 12, 1999. Standard letter envelope. Paper cut scar. Worst pain there is, Rodney. That finger will never be the same again. Rodney was unimpressed. Rodney P: You could always get a letter opener? Francis ignored his finger and began to nod with smug approval of his assistant. Francis Ford Cuppola: This is exactly why you’re my assistant, Rodney. You think of the things I would have thought of if I weren’t thinking of the other things I'm thinking of. We’re in sync! Rodney remained unimpressed as he stared at his employer. Rodney P: Right. It had been a longstanding internal argument within Rodney as to just how much brain power Francis employed to function daily, how much he used to tangentially cascade and fragment his reality into nonsense like one of his ‘films’, and how much it took for Francis to severely mess other people’s days up as they attempted the dubious task of interpreting that nonsense. The results had, so far, been inconclusive. Rodney P: How about I read your mail for you, huh? Francis was overjoyed. Rodney lifted out an envelope from the stack, set the stack aside, and opened the envelope and pulled it’s lone letter out and frowned as he read the summary of the letter to Francis with subdued confusion. Rodney P: Merriam-Webster regrets to inform you that they have summarily rejected your word ‘Cuppolastic’, as such it will not be formally recognized as a word in their upcoming dictionary edition. Francis Ford Cuppola: Damn. Francis sat back and pressed the edge of his finger to his mouth like he’d just lost a war. Francis Ford Cuppola: Next time. Francis cursed under his breath and reluctantly shrugged off the disappointment. Francis Ford Cuppola: What else is there, Rodney?Rodney set the dubious dictionary rejection notice aside and found a type-written letter. Rodney P: Okay. Here’s one. He read aloud, his eyes frowning tighter as he did. Rodney P: Mister Cuppola. Stop. This is your third warning. Stop. We ask you once more. Stop. Please refrain from cooling your feet in our soft-serve ice cream machine. Stop. The last incident you used your genitals—Francis waved his arms quickly. Francis Ford Cuppola: No, no! That’s enough of that. We don’t need to read that anymore. Rodney eyed Francis with a complete lack of surprise. Francis Ford Cuppola: In fact, forget the mail. Throw the whole stack out. I don’t want to see it again.Rodney P: Okay.Rodney set the stack of envelopes aside with a sense of smug satisfaction. Rodney P: All right, so Francis, what on earth are we doing in Louisiana? Francis grinned. Francis Ford Cuppola: You’re gonna love it, Rodney. You remember my great idea for the French Mime Assassins movie? Rodney P: ...Francis Ford Cuppola: Exactly. Well, as it turns out, the amusement park I was hoping to use as our primary location so happens to also have a wrestling promotion on-site!Rodney didn’t blink. He merely stared blankly without surprise at His employer who had evidently forgotten Rodney’s previous briefing about Pure Amusement Wrestling months ago when they were determining potential sites for Francis’ ambitious dreams of branching his operations into wrestling. Rodney feigned surprise. Francis Ford Cuppola: It’s going to be fantastic, Rodney. And I found it myself. This is precisely the sort of federation you should be bringing to my attention. What exactly do you do all day, anyway? Rodney’s feigned surprise dimmed. Francis Ford Cuppola: So, as it just so happens, I’ve currently put on hold my plans to make my Mime movie, and instead I’ve signed them up, are you ready? To compete… in Pure Amusement Wrestling!!! Rodney P: That’s great, Francis. Francis Ford Cuppola: It can’t miss, Rodney. Their first match is some sort of “Royal Rumble”. It’s the perfect chance to showcase our mime’s above-average tag team skill. Rodney P: You do KNOW what a Royal Rumble is, right? Francis Ford Cuppola: Of course I do. I’ve had the mimes prepping for it the entire time you were off navel gazing on that detestable island nation of Japan. Rodney P: That’s great Francis. H-how have you been doing that exactly? Francis didn’t notice the trepidation nearing fear in his assistant’s voice. Francis’ expression grew clever and sinister at once. Francis Ford Cuppola: I’ve set our mimes to hide in my newly refurbished plantation mansion. They are to attack us unawares, when we least suspect it like a violent treasure hunt.Francis’ fingers played together evilly as he grinned. Rodney blinked. Rodney P: So, ostensibly what you’re saying is two tag team wrestlers, trained assassins for all intents and purposes, are hiding somewhere in your house waiting to jump out and kill us? Francis Ford Cuppola: I wouldn't put it that way. But... yeah.
Rodney grew concerned. Rodney P: Francis, doesn’t that train us instead of them? Francis’ eyes searched blankly elsewhere in the limo for an answer that wasn’t self-evident to him. Rodney P: Cause we’re doing all the work. They just have to lay in wait and surprise us with a dirty choke or something.The limo started to slow. The window slid down. Both Francis and Rodney peaked out with different expressions at what was before them. Francis’ pride beamed at the overhauled, massive mansion on an expansive plantation ground that sat before them. Rodney grew worried as his imagination set to work picturing what lay in wait inside. Rodney P: Francis, this is a terrible idea. Francis Ford Cuppola: What? It's all kosher. They’ve had a week to acclimatize themselves to the temperature inside the house. Rodney P: They’re not goldfish, Francis. Francis’ blank stare trailed back into the limo. Francis Ford Cuppola: I knew that. Rodney figured he really didn’t, shaking his head as they exited the car. They entered the spacious front foyer of the mansion still debating. Rodney P: All I’m saying is you don’t even know what a Royal Rumble is. You might want to at least consider starting the mimes off on more conventional training before you go reinventing the wheel. Francis considered with a slow nod of disappointment. Francis Ford Cuppola: Okay.He spoke up, his voice booming through the cavernous mansion. Francis Ford Cuppola: COMME ÇI! COMME ÇA! MIMES! THIS IS YOUR EMPLOYER SPEAKING. Peep the echo, Rodney? Francis seemed pleased with himself. Rodney’s eyes, as you may have guessed, rolled. Francis Ford Cuppola: I AM ORDERING YOU TO COME OUT THIS INSTANT! Francis hoped to catch a mime off guard as he opened a coat closet and a dozen coats spilled onto the floor at his feet. Francis shrugged back at Rodney, lifted his arm into a readied karate chop, and slowly crept into the nearby living room. Francis Ford Cuppola: I KNOW THAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO LISTEN TO ME IF I EVER TOLD YOU NOT TO ATTACK ME AND RODNEY UNSUSPECTINGLY. I’M NOW TELLING YOU TO LISTEN TO ME! Rodney bemusedly watched Francis as the well-dressed elder stalked the living room, overturning couch cushions expectantly and looking inside of the curio cabinets no human being could possibly fit inside. Francis Ford Cuppola: I AM WARNING YOU! DO NOT ATTACK ME!!! Francis had surveyed all the nooks and crannies of the immaculate and gorgeously decorated living room area before he looked to Rodney and listened carefully. Rodney’s arms had neatly folded across his chest throughout the undertaking. Rodney P: You know they’re going to kill—Francis Ford Cuppola: Shhhh-shhh. An eerie stillness settled between them before Rodney watched Francis’ raised and readied karate chop swing suddenly into a broom closet after he opened the door and instead of attacking mimes, he was met with an errant collection of broom and mop handles which spilled onto him. Francis shook his head, left the mess, and wandered back to Rodney. Francis Ford Cuppola: You know, I really don’t think they’re going to hear me, Rodney. Rodney P: Because they’re mimes, right? Francis shook his head as he thought about it. Francis Ford Cuppola: They could be anywhere by now. This mansion has over 34 rooms not including restrooms. Rodney P: Why did you refurbish a century plantation home? Francis Ford Cuppola: Two centuries, actually. I can’t stand old things. Francis thought about it as he glanced over the expansive hallway in the hopes he might spot a mime camouflaged with the upstairs wall. Rodney watched his employer with an increasing blend of annoyance and whimsy at the sheer magnitude of ignorance radiating from the man. Francis growled. Francis Ford Cuppola: Damn these mimes. You know they got 16 people in this Battle Royal? That’s 16 people they have to prepare for, including themselves! I don’t want these mimes to make a fool of me, Rodney. I have a reputation to uphold. And now they’re going to be unprepared because we spent all of our training time playing hide and seek. Was this your idea, Rodney? Rodney, a 6’2 colored man from the southwest of London, England, used to having to scratch and claw his way through life, would normally sock this octogenarian in the mouth for repeated foolishness by now, but Francis gave him little chance to stay angry enough. Francis Ford Cuppola: It’s not important. We’ll have to flush them out. Better go to the armory. Rodney P: You have an armory? Francis Ford Cuppola: Of course. Be on your guard. Rodney P incredulously followed Francis’s primed and ready karate-chop as he led them both into a room whose walls were lined with weapons. Long swords, broad swords, axes, bows, crossbows, and antique suits of armor patterned the room, even a miniature ballista was set up in the center. Rodney P: What the hell…?Francis proudly plucked a Pilum off the wall and stood beside it’s length.
Francis Ford Cuppola: How about this? Do I look like badass, or what? A Pilum. Like Pilum up! Get it? Francis chuckled to himself. Rodney could only shake his head as he walked the walls and inspected the implements with growing fascinated confusion. Rodney P: Francis, why do you have all these medieval weapons? Rodney looked to Francis who had fixed a knight’s helmet on his head and equipped a mace. His voice muffled through the shiny metallic visor. Francis Ford Cuppola: I took them from the set of my movie Medieval On Your Ass, remember? Rodney aimed an unloaded crossbow at Francis and wished he had a bolt handy. Rodney P: Right, the one about the guy who travels back in time on a donkey. How could I forget?Francis Ford Cuppola: *pleased with himself* Love that flick. Francis struggled to remove the helmet. Rodney watched with a lack of surprise as Francis didn’t put the mace down, bumped the handle against the metallic full-helmet, and tried to squeeze it up and off his head unsuccessfully. Rodney could see this struggle lasting far longer than he intended to waste. Rodney set the crossbow down. Rodney P: Screw the weapons. You do whatever you’re doing, I’ll find the mimes. Rodney exited the makeshift armory back into the hallway with Francis giving up removing the helmet behind him. Francis Ford Cuppola: You’re right. Rodney explored his way up the ornate stairwell to the second floor with Francis struggling with removing his helmet all the way up behind him. Rodney P: So, Francis, while we look for our killers-in-waiting, tell me who else is in this battle royal? Rodney asked behind him as he reached the landing. Francis Ford Cuppola: Why does that matter? Rodney shook his head at his employers continued ignorance before his eyes focused on the long row of oil-painted portraits mounted on the wall and stationed in order down the upstairs hallway leading to more chambers potentially concealing a dangerous mime. Rodney frowned as he looked at each one who clearly resembled Francis but from different time periods. One of a napoleon-looking Francis; another of an aristocratic looking pirate Francis selling something strange to confused looking natives in the new world, another of an officious looking Francis threatening a slave with a whip. Rodney grimaced as he looked closer and thought he recognized a familial resemblance. Rodney looked back at Francis who peered at him through the grates in his visor. Francis Ford Cuppola: What? Rodney wordlessly pointed to the picture and looked at Francis for an explanation. Rodney P: What the hell is this? Francis peered closer at the painting. Francis Ford Cuppola: Oh, that’s—Inexplicably and suddenly, two black and white striped sleeves broke through the painting as both men screamed in unison. Francis, being so close, found himself enveloped in a makeshift bearhug, gripped by white gloved hands. Francis Ford Cuppola: Rodney, help a Mime’s got me! A stunned Rodney watched as the mime, Comme Çi, on the other side of the wall pull Francis right through the shoddy construction leaving plaster and a gaping hole in his wake as Rodney looked through the hole after the pair. Rodney had but seconds upon hearing the silent footfalls of the second mime, Comme Ça, charging down the hallway at him, leaping and drop-kicking him back through the railing. Rodney clung to it precariously as the mime approached him with evil intent in his darkened eyes before pushing Rodney… And the rest was pandemonium. Hours Later
Out of breath, Francis and Rodney panted out on the lawn. The house behind them sat eerily still in spite of the obvious signs of a struggle that now marred the previously pristine exterior of the freshly refurbished home. Saved from the ordeal, such as they were, Rodney was covered in dust and debris, cuts and bruises and welts marred his features as he looked to his employer with both deep concern and intense frustration. Francis was stuck in his helmet looking exhausted clutching his arm like it was broken. Rodney P: Are you all right? Francis Ford Cuppola: I tell you, it was a lucky thing I was wearing this helmet. Rodney P: You don’t say? Francis Ford Cuppola: Yeah, it really shielded me from so many of that one mime’s blows. Rodney P: How lucky for you.Francis Ford Cuppola: I know. It probably would’ve helped you when Comme Ci, or Comme Ça, or whichever mime that was was smashing your face off that kitchen sink. Or the time when—Rodney P: Francis will you shut up?! The wind blew modestly between them. Francis lifted the visor on his helmet and peeked out, wounded, at his assistant who had never spoken up to him like that before. An, angry, silent beat hung between them. Francis Ford Cuppola: Well, at least we know they’re ready for the--Rodney shook his head and fired away. Rodney P: Would you shut the fuck up?! You’re not a damn wrestling manager, old man. You? You’re, at best, a sub-par filmmaker. You think those mimes stand a chance against seasoned wrestlers? People like Stevie Harris, or Press, your supposed evil twin brother, or Kelsey Spencer? Real ass-kickers, Francis, not shit you shipped over from France cause you’re too senile and uninformed to find real, authentic, talented wrestlers?!Mimes?! For real?! Those face-painted morons are going up against individuals who’s entire life revolves around training and physically improving themselves to be top competitors because they damn well have to be to keep up with the flow of this sport. That? In there? That wasn’t training, you dumbass. That was… I don’t even know what that was. Do you even have a single fucking clue what you’re doing in the wrestling business, Francis? Or how absolutely pointless all of what you’re doing is?! You’ll never see a single return on your investment in these carnies because your mimes can’t even cut you a single promotional video to SELL this match. Francis looked hurt. The wind blew once more as Rodney’s anger simmered. Francis Ford Cuppola: …well they are mimes, Rodney. The anger boiled over. Rodney P: Fuck it. I quit. You really are hopeless. You can go down with your sinking ship piloted by mimes all you want. I’m going to find successful candidates and start up my own gym or something. Francis watched as Rodney dismissed him with a pained wave of his hand and made off up the long stony driveway. Francis watched with confusion before calling after him. Francis Ford Cuppola: Rodney? His assistant, his mainstay, his constant would-be sidekick didn’t look back. Rodney kept walking. Francis felt suddenly very alone. Francis Ford Cuppola: But who’s going to help me film the Mime’s promo? The visor on Francis’ helmet shut on it's own in the wind. The bars of the visor separated the dot Rodney Rodney became as he disappeared up the road. Francis stood on his lawn clutching his arm to his chest knowing already it was at least sprained, and glanced nervously to the house he’d invested so much money into that currently housed two waiting mimes still ready to attack him.
Francis Ford Cuppola: How the hell am I going to get them out of there? Francis looked downward sadly as reality sunk in. THE PROMO!
The camera is at an awkward angle. Awkward in the sense that it’s just a little off-center. Francis is filming. You can’t see it, but I may as well tell you his other arm is in a cast and hung at his chest with a sling. He’s not used to operating the camera, it would seem. The French Mime Assassins stand in front of a dark background, the lighting is shoddy and obviously lacking in expertise. Undoubtedly, Rodney’s handiwork is missing from this production. But there the mimes stand looking dark and ominous into the lens. Francis Ford Cuppola: (off screen) Okay, Mimes. Let’s talk about your opponents for this Battle Royal. Anyone in particular you want to start with? One of the mimes, Comme Çi for the sake of argument, mimes an excited nod of his head before he points with a grim mug at the camera then slashes his throat. Francis Ford Cuppola: Damn right. I don’t care if he’s my brother, you’re going to KILL Nirvana, hahahaha-wait.As Francis realizes the danger posed to his own assumed flesh and blood, the other mime extends his thumb, makes a sad face and pretends to shove his finger painfully up his own ass.
Francis Ford Cuppola: That’s gotta be about Alexandra Kelly. Comme Ça shakes his head angrily at Francis behind the camera before miming something long and cylindrical sliding in and out of his mouth while he rubs his stomach. Francis Ford Cuppola: Ohhhhhh, okay. So then the other thing was about Bryan Williams!? I have no idea what’s going on here. Where’s Rodney when I need him? One mime bends over; the other pretends to arrogantly spank the bent over mime. Francis Ford Cuppola: Damn, I suck at charades. I dunno... Flaming Youth?! Is that you guys in the Battle Royal…? This is too weird, no wonder people have a hard time taking you seriously—hey, I just thought of something. What happens if you two end up having to face one another? The mimes slowly stand up and glare into the camera, both mean mugging at Francis. Francis Ford Cuppola: Whoa. I’m not the bad guy here. It’s whoever designed this match.Comme Ça looks to Comme Çi and both seem to pout to each other over the thought of potentially having to go toe to toe. Francis Ford Cuppola: Remember: No prisoners. Even if that means you have to face one another. Reluctantly, the mimes nod, instantly breaking apart to threaten one another with fisticuffs. The camera jostles mildly, Francis growing nervous at the unpredictability of his charges. Francis Ford Cuppola: I said maybe! You never know what’s going to happen in a Battle Royal now that I actually know what the match entails. You two could wind up getting thrown out right off the hop. (cursing under his breath, but the camera hears him) Good thing I bet on that Nova chick. The mimes stare down before loosening up. Francis audibly clicks his tongue. Francis Ford Cuppola: Well, that’s definitely the best I’m going to get out of you two—owww, my arm—today. Not like either of you mimes can actually say anything. Damn, I wish Rodney were here. The camera visibly shakes again as Francis sighs loudly. You can hear the tremulous sadness in Francis’ voice as he readies to stop recording. The Mimes, one of them anyway, Comme Ça, looks inexplicably about to say something, a finger raised, his mouth open as if armed with something relevant to add as the camera frame drops downwards to view the floor before cutting. |
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Post by Roy Baker on Jun 3, 2016 1:40:03 GMT
OOC: Good luck, everyone. I'm obviously not going to win this one, but I tried my best to actually write something that potentially (probably not) match your content.
Hope you enjoy it, and stuff.
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CAM SATUS: Off
LOCATION: West HW, Roy Baker's residence.
TIME: Friday, May 27th, 2016. 2 hours after the WICKED taping.
The door closes as a little boy ran into Roy's legs. It was his sister's son. In the midst of the last few hours he just so happened to forget what was waiting for im at home. Around the corner, at the dinner table he heard 2 voices. One yelling out to the owner of the house.
"Roy! You need to get over here right now! This is important!"
A sigh, as he threw his bag to the door where his washing machine was behind. He lifted his nephew and carried him along. Around the corner sat his father and sister. At the sight of his family he sighed. His father pointed to the chair next to them. Seemed like a discussion was in order. So Roy sat down and seated his nephew on his knee. His father, Matthew, began.
Matt: "Roy, we need your help with this."
Roy: "Yeah, well. What else is new."
A disappointed sigh from the other two at the table.
Matt: "Now is not the time for your snarky comments. Jackie is pregnant and Larry left her."
While the pregnant news got a chuckle out of Roy, her boyfriend and probably the father stopped the humorous mood right away.
Roy's father looked at him, as did Jackie who didn't seem happy with it either. And then it struck Roy what they would ask. And his response was not something his nephew had to hear.
Roy: "Go on, cub. It's bed time."
Sam: "But Un--"
Roy: "I'll read you a story in a bit, okay? Just go on, I need to talk to your mother a--"
Sam sighed, but smiled.
Sam: "Okay..."
And he stretched out as far as possible to hug his uncle, and receive a peck on the cheek. The little rascal ran off upstairs, leaving the adults to talk.
Jackie: "Please, Roy?"
Roy: "Again, Jackie? One wasn't enough? This is the fourth time you've been kicked out. What the fuck happened with Larry? What's Sam gonna think, seeing his parents fight!?"
Jackie wanted to retaliate with an arguement of her own, but their father motioned for Jackie not to. Instead, let Roy finish.
Roy: "So what, you're gonna move in now too? Do I have to raise Sam while you're out again, whoring yourself to some redneck good-for-nothing hick because he got you some blow and you gave him a blowjob in return?"
Jackie: "Hey, fuck you!"
Matt: "Jackie, calm down!"
Jackie: "No, fuck him!"
Roy: "I ain't got any blow for you so you can save yourself the fucking trouble."
Matt: "Roy, you too."
A moment of silence between the family members. The mother, Amanda, was lounging on the couch watching a late-night talk show whilst eating something. Presumably yoghurt.
Matt: "Look, Roy. We're sorry, but--"
Roy: "You're not sorry, dad. But go on."
Another gust of air escaped Matthew in disappointment. He ignored the comment and continued.
Matt: "You know that... she has no other option right now. Would you just let your sister sleep on the streets without a roof over her head? Even you're not that dark hearted!"
Roy stands up shaking his head and mumbling something foul to himself as he walks to the fridge. Jackie stands up in desperation.
Jackie: "Look, I'm not happy about this either bu--"
The tattooed wrestler raises his hand to cut Jackie off.
Roy: "I'll think about it."
The daughter and her father exchange looks as Jackie is looking for words in rage. Roy is searching the fridge for a drink. A near empty pack of apple juice is retrieved as he takes a glass and fills it.
Jackie: "Think about it!? I will give you som--"
Roy: "I said I'll think about it, Jackie! You're not going to stay out on the streets though. You can sleep in my bed with Sam, I'll go find a motel to stay in for the time being."
Jackie returns to a silence, but she looks thankful.
Roy: "But just keep in mind I'm doing this for Sam. Not for you. Got it?"
A reluctant nod from his sister. Roy was more than done with his family's issues. More than done. But just then, his mother piped up.
Amanda: "Hey, Roy! Whatever happened to that girl you were dating anyway?"
Roy: "Thin ice, mom."
Amanda: "What, did something bad happen?"
Roy: "Mom, no."
The near empty glass needed one more chug before being empty, so Roy downed it. His mother mumbled something to herself, but just loud enough for everybody to hear.
Amanada: "She wanted someone who could pay the bills."
The sudden sound of glass shattering against marble filled the home. Roy had slammed his glass against the counter and shards flew around. Clearly, the worst possible thing to say in this situation.
Roy: "Pay the bills!? PAY THE BILLS!?"
Amanda: "Look, I'm s--"
Roy: "YOU CAN SHOVE THAT SORRY UP YOUR FAT FUCKING ASS!"
Matthew shot up out of his chair.
Matt: "Don't you dare sp--"
Roy: "No no no no! You don't get to fucking tell me what to do! You see that glass over there!? Shattered, broken! You know why I don't care!? Because it's mine! Everything in this house is mine! That bowl of whateverthefuck you're stuffing yourself with, the couch you're destroying with your body weight, the TV you're watching. The beds you're all sleeping in, the roof over your fucking heads!"
Matthew sat and looked back down.
Roy: "You all come in here and demand to move into this place because you're family? How dare any of you have the fucking audacity to. Where were you when I needed you? Jackie was out banging some druggie, Mom was out doing her bingo and you'd be out to the culture club. And what was I doing? Working my fucking ass off, just like I am today! And don't you fucking dare say I'm not, you lousy piece of shit!"
Amananda clearly wants to object, but how? He was right. Roy steps to the hallway and fetches his bag while the family clearly thought he was gone as they began speaking. But stopped just as Roy appeared again. The bag was zipped open forcefully, and an envelope was pulled out. Then slammed onto the dinner table. Roy tore open the top half of it and retrieved a small portion of the money inside.
Roy: "Here you fucking go, you vultures. Your rent and food money for this fucking month. This isn't my fucking home anymore, you can all go and find a job to pay for it. And when you're done, you can move the fuck out. You see this money? Earned tonight, fair and clean. I got choked out, and still made enough to sustain all your asses! And the beauty of it all? I still get more when I go to work in two weeks!"
The bag is zipped back up. But just as it is, Sam is in the hallway's opening.
Sam: "Uncle? Can you come read me the story?"
The whole family looks at the tired little boy, and only Roy moves to help him. He leaves his bag in the hallway itself. He lifts the child up again, and looks at his parents and sister.
Roy: "I want you all out of this place in two weeks. Take what you need. Not want, need. Then you can go and try to help yourselves. Because I'm done working for it."
The uncle turns around with his nephew in his arms, and heads upstairs where he reads him a story. Then leaves.
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CAM SATUS: On
LOCATION: In the PAW Ring, Purity, LA.
TIME: Thursday, June 9th, 2016.
We just come back from a backstage segment as Roy Baker's music is in the midst of playing. He is in the center of the ring holding a microphone gesturing for the audio to be cut.
Baker: "Yeah, yeah. That's enough of that. Ladies and gentlemen, how have you been enjoying Heat Stroke so far!?"
Baker throws his arms forward as if reaching for a response which he gets in a loud and positive sense.
Baker: "That's right, the show's been awesome so far. What a match between Raike and Harris, right!? And hopefully two more of those to come!"
Cheers again from the audience.
Baker: "But let's just get down to brasstacks. See, tonight's only my second match after signing with Pure Amusement Wrestling. Last week was my first. I faced Alexandra Kelly and Kelsey Spencer in a fantastic bout where both competitors earned my respect. And trust me when I say that's a feat you can talk about. Very few individuals have it. But after being in the ring with those two and admittedly choked out by Kelly, I have nothing but respect for those two vixens. Let's hear it for them one more time!"
Yaaay!
Baker: "... but. Tonight is a different night. Like I said, second match I've had here. Since my arrival last week. Started in a triple threat elimination bout. First eliminated. Now I'm in a battle royal with sixteen other damn competitors in a over-the-top-rope elimination battle royale. Exciting, isn't it!?"
Yaa-- oh you get the point by now. They're cheering. Read on.
Baker: "It's a little weird. So many people in this organisation received fair matches to get them started in this, but here I am in another bout where the odds are heavily against me. The odds of my hand being raised at the end of it are slimmer than Alexandra Kelly, and make me more blue in the face then Nova's hair. It's rather ridiculous! People have understimated me, and my ability in the ring countless times before, sure. But like this? Never. Never-ever. 'cus I checked some of the bookmakers and betting sites for the odds and... well. Kelly once again came out as a highly considered victor for this match! And so is Flaming Youth! Which is funny because... Heat Stroke. Get it? Flaming, flames... Heat."
Ya-- oh, no wait. No cheers. Just groans, alright.
Baker: "But tonight is the night that could change. Because yeah, I'm not the favourite by a mile. But when I win this match tonight, get my hand raised... not only will I be victorious. I'll be the number 1 contender for the Midway Championship. Or do I have to say it in full, the Titan of the Midway? Either way, it's still something that COULD happen. But it could also happen for Kelly. For Youth. For the smurf, Nova. Sykes. Redrum and all those other competitors. But while there's a chance for them... tonight is the night I get to prove my chances are the ones you should be banking on."
A mixed reaction from the audience.
Baker: "And just a special shoutout to my new buddy Alexandra! You've got one hell of a finish. But I never tapped. No one will be able to make me submit. So I hope you don't hold that as a little prize for your slim-fit belt, okay? Cheers, love."
Baker's attention focuses back to the crowd. 'course it would.
Baker: "Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy Heat Stroke and I'll see you beautiful bastards soon!"
The microphone is dropped as we fade to black with the scene of Roy Baker leaving the ring.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2016 6:05:53 GMT
She stood patiently outside the GZW2k1 Coliseum dressed in tight blue jeans and a plain white shirt that clung to her. Her eyes wondered across the sparse parking lot. Seeing it empty like this caused a lump to form in her throat. The only place she had known as home was now a ghost town. The once great company a shadow of its former self. The giant marquee board had been turned off, no longer advertising anything much less upcoming shows. It was the start of June, the Summer Heat tour would be in full swing right now, Heatwave would be right around the corner. Memories flooded her mind as she thought back to the matches, the titles and the friends she made. All gone, none of that mattering anymore. The smile that had started to form on her face as she thought back to the happy times was suddenly turning into a sneer, a look of hatred filling her eyes. Only one thing was on her mind now, only one person.
Lady Munin.
A flyer for Aftermath rolled across the parking lot with an image of Lady Munin and John Champa on it, landing on her right foot. She stomped on it and grinned it into the parking lot with the heel of her white sneakers. That woman, that face was the last image she wanted to see. So much hatred filled her body because of that one person. William Saint had almost killed her career but Lady Munin had almost killed her. It was hard to not hold ill feelings towards her. She had taken a close friend from her and now she had taken her only company away from her. How was she supposed to feel though? An injury sidelined her for most of a year only to come back and find locks on the doors. While people most of the members of The Takeover wanted that title brought back to GZW she couldn't care less. That title belonged to GZW not PAW but that wasn't what got her out of bed every morning. That wasn't the cream and sugar in her coffee. A desire to remove the head from a snake was what kept her motivated every day. Joshua didn't have to try too hard to convince her to be apart of the group. All he had to do was mention one name and she would be by his side till the end.
Ms. Reynolds might I have a word with you?
This doesn't concern you James. My contract with this company is no more so that means your services are no longer needed.
I understand that. Just like I understand your desire for blood. But do you really think Ms. Munin is the blame for all of this? You saw first hand the destruction that was coming from this company. It was dying long before you signed on to compete. You and I both know that when Ms. Munin left with those titles that wasn't what killed GZW. GZW killed GZW.
Are you done now James?
I just want you to think about your decision. I would hate for you to do something you might regret.
You ready Amanda? It's a long drive down to Purity.
The two turned and locked eyes with a young woman, probably in her early to mid twenties walking towards them in blue jeans and a flowery spaghetti strap top.
Just give me a minute okay? I'm wrapping things up here.
Girlfriend?
No just a friend. What do you want from me James? To just forget about what happened? I really feel like we had something and then her jealousy took that from me.
The older man sighed.
He was always hers Amanda. Those two are destined to be together whether you like it or not. No matter what happens they always find their way back to one another.
When he came to visit over the holidays last year while he was in EW I really felt like we had something. That maybe he was finally going to be mine.
And what happened?
He left because of her. Said he just couldn't be with anyone but her.
You'll find someone Amanda but it will never be him. This anger you feel is misdirected but understandable. Just be careful and don't do anything you'll regret. You have my number if you need anything. I won't keep you from your trip.
He smiled warmly before walking away leaving her alone in front of the coliseum.
Purity here I come.
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Ever since this match was announced I've tried to do my best to figure out who is who in this match. Men like Youth chose to lump people into groups, with most people falling in the no chance in hell of winning group or as he likes to call it "garbage" group. Nirvana chose to...well, I'm not sure what Nirvana chose to do outside of play with a big bear. Honestly I'm not totally sure he's all their. I might be new here but even I can tell when someones elevator has stalled halfway to the top. His might still be in the basement. Then you have The French Mimes and Roy Baker all trying to posture up to make themselves seem important. Lastly that leaves the "Pixie" of PAW Alexandra Kelly. To be honest, she is the one who holds my attention the most.
The room was rather empty making it difficult to truly get a lay of the land. The lights flickered on showing an old high school gym that had been deserted and left to die years earlier. The once blue mats that covered the floors had now turned a dingy color while most were torn. The bleachers were worn and splintered with some of the boards coming loose and sticking out. Amanda stood on top of the once blue mats dressed in tight blue jeans and a plain form fitting white shirt.
First lets make one thing crystal clear. I didn't attack anyone to get my spot in this match Pixie. I don't know where you get your news from but Kelsey was injured in another promotion, not at my hands. I've done a lot of slimy things in my career and I've owned up to each and every one of those things. Yet taking someone out to get a spot in a match is one thing I've managed to avoid to his day and will continue to avoid until I see that it benefits me. It just so happens the luck of the draw was on my side when she was hurt. Having someone running point though sure didn't hurt matters. But unlike the majority of people, I have no plans of addressing each of the people in this match. Why should I waste my breath when they only exist to fill a void? Why should I bother hyping them as potential victors when they can't hype themselves? Not only that, but why give credibility to people who have none? Why waste my time and my breath?
One thing though that has caught my attention is the fact so many people have chosen to discredit my ability. Youth thinks I'm garbage, Alexandra thinks I'm a whore and a dog, Double F still thinks Kelsey is in the match and everyone else has just chosen to either not pay me any attention or blow off the match. That's fine by me because when I step in that ring you'll find out first hand why I'm a force of nature. You will all witness why I'm called the Tampa Tornado. In high school I started my craft on mats such as these. In Glory I extended my craft inside a steel cage. With GZW I perfected my craft during tours of Japan, Hong Kong, and all over the globe. Youth you think I'm garbage and not worth your time? You think I'm an easy mark or stepping stone to the Midway Title? I'm sorry your partner was more successful than you. I'm sorry your partner left you behind in his shadow while he proved he was the superior one in your team. So while you're partner is out chasing tail he's never gonna get and winning World Titles you're stuck playing second fiddle. Sucks to be you. But what's going to suck even more is when you realize you can't even play second fiddle anymore because your chance at winning the Titans of the Midway Title is zip. So what's that going to do to your ego Youth? What's that going to do your "team"? How long until Press realizes you aren't worth carrying around anymore? Honestly I couldn't give a shit because when you look at him, all you'll see is me because it's my words that made it real.
Amanda kept her eyes on the camera never wavering. Her eyes narrowed in on the camera as he attention was firmly focused on the lens that was recording her.
Pixie you think I'm a whore? That I slept my way to the top? Are you seeing a bit of yourself in me? I've watched your matches and I've heard you on the stick so I know you didn't get where you are today on talent alone. All this hype on how great she is and all I see is a scared little girl projecting her flaws on anyone that she can. I did allow myself to get involved with someone I shouldn't have. I allowed myself to fall for forbidden fruit. Yet I learned from my mistakes can you say the same? Usually when someone comes off with the whole you're a whore line or you slept with a bunch of people to succeed it's because they had to go that route. Is that why you hate me so much? Pixie I hold no ill will towards you at all. You can think what you want about me I honestly don't care. But if you think for one split second I'm being removed from this match without a fight you better think again. I'll be damned if some fucking tart is going to think she can boss me around. You think it's going to be you to eliminate me? You want to make it your personal mission to see me removed from that fight? Well bring it Tinkerbell I welcome the challenge. Who knows, maybe we'll see if Pixies can fly without dust.
To anyone else just know I'm not one to be trifled with or taken lightly. You can blow me off, pretend I don't exist or pray we don't cross paths. Whatever helps you sleep at night. But when I make my debut I will walk out as number one contender and no knock off Pixie, Clown, Mime or Peter Pan cosplay reject will prove otherwise. This isn't about a Takeover, this isn't about removing a thorn from my side or settling old scores. This is about putting PAW on notice that a true force of nature has arrived. So fuck off and get bent.
She winked at the camera as the feed was cut.
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Post by Nova Wonder on Jun 7, 2016 6:07:14 GMT
I DON'T KNOW THE END
IT'S NEVER HOW I THOUGHT
So, you gotta click that fancypants italicized underlined hyperlink (which was stylized that way in post preview but not in the live environment on firefox, making me look like a big ol' liarface.  ) to get to my roleplay. Honestly, this was a tough one. It's been a good while since I wrote with Nova! I'm getting back into the groove of this... pretty hard to define character. lol lyrics are from "Follow You Down" by Lights, which actually inspired the first scene. I included a little box to play the song if you decide you wanna check it out. First scene actually moved me to tears and I must have reworked this whole roleplay maybe 5 times over to get it in a way that I like it. Regardless, thanks for reading this ramble, and good luck to anyone & everyone involved! |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2016 6:29:34 GMT
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TRAINING 101 ☠
chapter one
“What in the hell is that?”
Long time best friend and mentor of the man known as Johnny Sykes stood in the backyard of Johnny’s place. David could not believe what was in front of him as his eyes were locked on a rather large inflatable bouncy house. There could be children screaming from inside it. The thing was bouncing up and down like crazy assuming from the children inside. David just began to shake his head a bit. At least until the son of Johnny, Jax found himself speaking up and providing the answer.
J A X (the son of a prankster) S Y K E S
Dad says it's for training.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Training?
J A X (the son of a prankster) S Y K E S
For that battle royal he’s in. He invited fifteen of my friends over and the last person in the bouncy house wins. He says it is great training.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Oh my god... I am really starting to regret your father ever coming back from Japan.
J A X (the son of a prankster) S Y K E S
Wasn’t my choice to leave. Believe me.
David was shaking his head a little more as he patted Jax on the shoulder. In that moment he started to make his way towards the bouncy house rather quickly. The last thing he needed to happen was for Johnny to accidentally hurt one of these children. Yes, it would be done on accident because Johnny would never hurt a fly which kind of said that the wrestling business was the wrong place for him. Thing was he was real good at it. David had just approached the bouncy house when a little boy came tumbling out of it and onto the ground at David’s feet. That’s when Johnny’s voice could be heard.
“That’s one, now there’s fifteen of us left!”
The little boy that had been tossed out scrambled up to his feet with a pouty expression and found himself running out of the yard. Obviously the little boy had his sights set on winning, but there was no way he was going to toss out a five foot ten, two hundred pound grown man out of a bouncy house. David felt kinda bad for the kid watching him run away like that before his eyes focused on the bouncy house. He raised his voice some as he called out.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Johnny...
There was just the sound of the children laughing and carrying on, but there was no response from the Original Pranksta. David rolled his eyes slightly as he called out again.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Johnny, I know you’re in there. I need you to come out here...
For a moment David remained quiet as he had expected that something was going to take place. He had expected to get some type of response from Johnny, but that turned out to not be the case. The giggling and carrying on from children continued. By this point David’s patience was starting to run thin.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Johnny, you’re going to leave me no choice. If you don’t come out here I am going to pop this bouncy house and then that’ll ruin everyone’s fun.
There was this gasp coming from the children inside the bouncy house. At the same time it resulted in everyone inside to stop bouncing up and down. An irritated sigh could be heard before there was a little bit of motion coming from the bouncy house. Seconds later Johnny poked his head out of the bouncy house, but managed to keep the rest of his body inside. This was obviously done to avoid “elimination” in this “training session” he was having.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Dude, why the heck are you being such a buzz kill?
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Because you’re being foolish!
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Foolish?
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Yes, foolish. Jax told me you set this bouncy house up and invited fifteen of the neighborhood just so you could train for a Battle Royal? What the heck is wrong with you, man?
Johnny looked up at his friend and mentor with a puzzled look on his face. It was like he couldn’t even understand why David would think this was a foolish idea. In his mind this was one of the best ideas he had ever come up with. Then again in the mind of the Original Pranksta he was a creative genius. Fans loved him because of how he presented himself. He was a little childish and people loved his jokes as well as pranks but creative genius was truly pushing it.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Dude this is a great idea and going to get me in the best shape of my life to take on fifteen other people.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
How? How in the world is knocking fifteen children out of bouncy house going to help you, Johnny? How is that even equal to throwing fifteen other men or women over the top rope?
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Simple dude! Kids are far more wiry and creative than adults. It’s real hard to get a hold of one of these spazzy little dudes and dudettes. If I can manage to go through fifteen of them, then I can surely get a hold of fifteen people on Thursday to throw them over the top rope.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
That doesn’t even make the least bit of sense. You’re on something else right now and I’m not going to stand for it. Especially not as your former mentor and trainer. Get your behind out of there. I am taking you to a gym. We’re going to train you for this the right way.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
No, not going to happen. I have the first annual Johnny Sykes Bouncy House Battle Royal to win!
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Don’t you even think about going back in there!
David went to snatch Johnny’s arm to prevent him from doing so, but it turns out that he wasn’t fast enough. Johnny had done started to pull himself back inside the bouncy house. No sooner than Johnny disappeared back inside the bouncy house, seconds later he came tumbling right back out of it and landing on his back. He looked up at the blue skys with a bunch of kids poking their heads out of the bouncy house laughing and pointing.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Looks like your plan backfired there Johnny boy!
There was a smug tone coming from David when he made this comments. He started to slapping hands with these children giving them props for their well deserved “elimination” of the Original Pranksta. Lying there on the ground Johnny proceeded to stick his tongue out at the children in a taunting manner. He then rolled himself over getting up to his feet and glared over at David, he didn’t seem too happy by any means.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
This is YOUR fault, you know that right?
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Well if you were treating this as a battle royal, then you should have known you can never let yourself get distracted in one of those. As soon as you take your eyes on the prize, that’s when you’ve cost yourself. It takes just a blink of an eye to be tossed over the top rope. Guess that’s something else we’re going to have work on huh?
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Ughhhhhh!
Very much like a child, Johnny started to stomp away from the bouncy house leaving David and the children behind. David looked over at the children with a smile on his lips.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Looks like I am going to have to put him in time out.
Right away the children broke out into a chuckle. David let his smile grow a bit before he started to walk away leaving the children to enjoy themselves in the bouncy house. From the sounds of it, he was going to be the one to put Johnny through work and truly get him prepared for this battle royal. There was so much riding on the line. This was the perfect chance and the perfect time for the man to prove himself to the PAW audience. Winning this would get him a shot at the Titans of the Midway Championship no matter if it was Johnny Raike or Calvin Harris. That would do wonders for his career, but it was just a matter of getting Johnny Sykes to settle down and get to business.
ALL OVER YOU LIKE A SPIDER MONKEY ☠
chapter two
A few days had passed and in those few days the man known as Johnny Sykes had been put through the ringer by his old mentor and trainer. David had been making Johnny learn the basics of wrestling all over again. He was teaching him how to run the ropes, how to use the ropes to his favor, how to send his opponent over the top rope, and how to safely avoid being eliminated. By far it was not something that Johnny willingly wanted to do and he was not enjoying it by any means either. This entire time he had considered it to be nothing more than a waste of his time when he could be off doing other things like playing video games.
On this particular day, Johnny was leaning against the ropes completely exhausted. His shirt was completely shocked in sweat. His hair looked like a hot mess and the man didn’t smell the greatest. Boy was he in need for a shower, but this is what came with hard work. As he continued to lean against the ropes trying to catch his breath. His eyes wandered a bit to see that David was entering this old warehouse they had been training in with a camera in his hand. Johnny pushed himself off the ropes with his eyebrow arched up keeping his eyes on David.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
What’s with the camera?
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
It’s time to do a little promo work. I’m going to record this and send it in to PAW for you. It’s about time these people see the hard work you’ve been putting in. More importantly than that it’s time that these people to see you as a threat. Instead of a joke.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Bro, you be trippin’ or something! Those people don’t consider me a joke, they love me. I’ve had like two matches ever there and the fans are always screaming: Johnny... Johnny... Johnny, it’s great!
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
I’m not talking about them. I am talking about the people in this battle royal. I am talking about people like Flaming Youth, Alexandra Kelly, and even Nova Wonder. None of those fifteen people in the match with you consider you a threat. No one expects you to do very well, let alone win the battle royal.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Wrong again. That cutie Alexandra and I are super close, we tight!
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Oh my god, no you’re not tight with her. She finds you annoying like everyone else. She finds you to be a joke like everyone else. Trust me on this. Have I ever steered you wrong in the past?
For that brief moment there was silence. Johnny’s eyes were rolled in an upward position like he was truly thinking about the question at hand. Seconds later his eyes focusing back on David.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Well no...
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Then just trust me on this one. When I roll this camera, just speak from the heart, and let these people see the hard work you’ve been putting in. Can you do that?
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
I guess...
The thing about Johnny was he didn’t want to be like every other wrestler he had ever seen. In his eyes he had something special with the fans and he wanted to keep that by seeing to it that he didn’t be like everyone else. David was kind of pushing that on him which was frustrating to him. All of the sudden he heard David shouting out “Roll Camera” as he shifted the camera up to his shoulder hitting the record button focusing on the Original Pranksta. For a second or two Johnny just stood there trying to find the words to say, but that’s when he remembered to speak from the heart.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
So this Thursday is the Sixteen Person Over The Top Rope thingy? Everyone seems to be pretty pumped about it. Despite there being a lot of people in the ring. Despite it bound to be crowded. Despite the fact that the ring is going to stink from everyone’s body odor due from all the sweat and shiz colliding.
He paused for a moment making a gagging sound as just the thought was enough to make him feel like he wanted to hurl.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Despite all of that. Everyone is looking forward to being in this thing and that’s because the person that goes the distance. The person that eliminates fifteen others and is the last person standing in the middle of that ring will be the official number one contender for the Midway Championship of Titans.
As soon as that came out of his mouth, David was yelling from behind the cameras. “It’s called the Titans of the Midway Championship!” For a moment Johnny just stood there looking over at his partner in crime. There was this puzzled look consuming his face as if he was trying to make sense of it all.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Jeebus, why not just call it the Titans Championship? People always gotta make things so complicated with big fancy little words.
Johnny briefly just rolled his eyes a little bit.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Anyway, that’s the purpose of the match for all of us. And my friend over there behind the camera is wanting me to cut one of them “promos” you guys cut every week. He wants me to point out how hard I’ve been working, point out all the training that I’ve been doing, and apparently he wants me to have something to say to the people that consider me a joke. From the way that it’s been told to me people like Alexandra Kelly, Flaming Youth, and Nova Wonder find me to be a joke. Someone that they don’t take very seriously or something like that. But I am not going to do that. Nahhh that’s just not my style. Plus, I ain’t one to go off the rumors and the gossip of wrestling. So David stop gossiping like you’re a teenage little girl!
While standing there in the ring Johnny saw David hold up his middle finger towards him pretty much giving the bird. This brought a small smirk to Johnny’s lips as he had realized that he had managed to get under the skin of his mentor. Most of their relationship Johnny had always gotten under David’s skin but they always kept one another around. That’s just how best friends worked.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Guys, I’m going to be honest. I didn’t get into wrestling to be like everyone else. I didn’t come to Pure Amusement Wrestling to be like everyone else. Therefore I don’t want to do what everyone else has already done. All you guys have cut these little promos that are more or less the same. You guys go through opponent by opponent and run them down. You waste like twenty minutes of your life and talk about fifteen other people running them down the best you can. Make fun of them for this and that. Pick apart this and that. Call them this name or that name. Then at the end of it all, what does it get you? When you’re done with that little promo, what have you truly accomplished? I mean cause as far as I can tell. All you’ve accomplished is talking and doing the same thing everyone else is doing.
The man found himself shrugging his shoulders up in the air a little bit. There was a good chance that someone was going to take offense to what he said. After all in the wrestling business someone was always getting butt hurt over something.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
The one thing I learned many-many years ago is it isn’t about how much you can talk. It isn’t even about what you can say. Instead it is about how you perform in that ring and what you can do in that ring. That’s what separates you from everyone else. Some people are better talkers than wrestlers. Some people are better wrestlers than they are talkers. Some people are really good at both of them and it tends to equal itself out. Good for those people that find the equal balance, but also good for those people that are far better wrestlers than they are talkers. Because that’s what we’ve all inspired to be. All sixteen of us wanted to be wrestlers and that’s why all sixteen of us are in this match. That’s why all sixteen of us are competing for a chance to win a contendership just so we can go on to be a champion. And I know that’s what I am inspired to be.
For the first time since Sykes had come to the company. People were getting a little more of a serious side of him. Something that a lot of people would have assumed didn’t exist considering the man was very much about jokes and pranks. Not to mention there were many times where he had presented himself to the point that he was a little touched in the upstairs department. He was not very smart by any means.
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
Don’t care what you guys have to say about me. Don’t care if you don’t consider me a threat. Don’t care if you guys actually consider me to be a joke. I’m rubber you're glue and whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you. And you guys wanna know something else? You’re going to have real-real hard time getting me tossed over these ropes, because I plan coming to that ring all jacked up on mountain dew and hanging all over you like a spider monkey!
Johnny had this cheesy little grin spread across his lips as that normal attitude of his coming back out. He seemed fairly confident with himself. Which wasn’t that much far off from anyone else that seemed to have the same mindset, but at the same time it seemed like he planned on doing things differently from everyone else. That’s when David found himself cutting off the camera shaking his head a bit looking over at Johnny. By that time Johnny had dropped down and rolled himself out of the ring.
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
You know that’s not exactly what I wanted right?
J O H N N Y (the original prankster) S Y K E S
You’ll be okay. Can we get out of here now? I’d love to have a frostie and some fries right now!
D A V I D (the best friend) C H R I S T E N S E N
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with you.
By that point Johnny had always started to walk away leaving David behind. He was now a man on a mission to get himself some food. David had tried to do something to help Johnny out and to get him to seem a little more on the serious side. It did work to a degree, but at the same time it wasn’t exactly what he wanted either. Might not have been enough to actually give those fifteen other people in the match the initiative to take what he was saying serious. Might not really change anything to begin with, but the one thing that was a guarantee was that The Original Pranksta was going to be in the match which meant things were going to be entertaining to say the least.
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OUT OF CHARACTER: BEST OF LUCK PEOPLE! |
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Post by Deleted on Jun 9, 2016 1:11:27 GMT
❥ NERVOUS
** DAYS BEFORE **
For the last two and half years I had been wrestling, but in that time I had never found myself in the position that I find myself in this coming Thursday night. I had been in the ring with other women and was able to hold my own. I had been in the ring with men and performed better than a lot of them. I had competed in triple threat matches, fatal four way matches, and even tag team matches. However I had never been in a battle royal before. I’ve always heard people in the business talk about how simple they were. Many times I had heard people say that battle royals were one of the easiest matches to put together. I had even heard people claim that battle royals were some of the most fun to be part of. Then there were those that I had heard speak negatively of the match and quote calling it a “cluster-eff” or some of them had even called it a “waste of time”. Course I couldn’t take what other people had said as a ground to base everything off of.
This was something that I was going to have to find out for myself. Come June 9th, I was going to find out just that. Before doing that though there were two people in this world that I truly trusted. Those two people were the men directly responsible for teaching me how to wrestle. When I was seventeen years old I remember hearing about my cousins, Elijah and Noah tearing it up in the professional wrestling scene of California. Once I had gotten mom and dad to agree to let me give it a try. I took myself to LA for a whole summer and let them teach me everything they could. Because of them I owed them my entire wrestling career. I’d never forget that. As of this moment the three of us were standing around a ring in the basement of their shared home. I wish I could have looked a little presentable, but because I knew I’d be training. There was no sense in putting effort into my look. No make up, my hair in a messy bun, and clothes that were only used to work out in.
N O A H || mister can't shut up
So let me get this straight... You came all the way out here to California... Just so we could help you train for a Battle Royal... Because you’ve never been in one before and you’re nervous...
A V A || da bomb dot com
Um... yeah!
N O A H || mister can't shut up
What the hell do you have to be nervous about Ava? It’s just a freaking battle royal! There isn’t a lot of time or effort or any real skill that goes into these things.
A V A || da bomb dot com
Oh...
In that particular moment my cousin made me feel like I was able two foot tall. He was talking to me like I was still a rookie and that I had no common sense for the lack of a better term. By no means would I claim that I was a veteran or anything like that. To a lot of people I am still a greenhorn or I’m still young to the business since I’d only been competing two and half years. I’d agree with that, but at the same time I could say that I knew my stuff and I knew it well.
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Dude chill. She doesn’t know how battle royals work. It happens, I remember when there was a time that you didn’t know how to come off the top rope.
N O A H || mister can't shut up
Woah there brother. That’s a little bit different don’t you think?”
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Not at all, it was something that you didn’t know how to do and it was something that made you nervous. No different than the situation she’s in... Now Ava, why don’t you tell me the details? Like what’s the purpose of this whole Battle Royal?
A V A || da bomb dot com
All I know is there is sixteen of us in the match. Winner of the whole Battle Royal gets a shot at the Titan of the Midway Championship in the near future.
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Well at least it’s a battle royal that serves purpose. Most of the time these companies now days throw battle royals on a show just to try and fill up spots or to make it seem like the card is bigger or better than it actually is.
A V A || da bomb dot com
Yeah, I really-really want to win. I know what I am capable of and I have what it takes to be a champion. I was the best Women’s Champion than OWF ever had and how that ruined leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
N O A H || mister can't shut up
Fuck that place! Fuck that place, fuck the guy that runs it, and fuck everyone in association with it!
This shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to anyone that would have known the three of us. We were not very pleased with our time in OWF. Elijah and Noah were the first ones to go after the owner had a problem with them. On a couple different occasions they had teased going elsewhere after being screwed out of the Tag Team Championships. Just because they were playing a role or going with a “gimmick” they created. The owner lost his shit, started to threaten them, and that’s when they gave the middle finger resulting in them leaving. Not long after that I was screwed out of the OWF Women’s Championship. Many people believed that I had to deal with the fall out of my cousins leaving, which after that took place I announced I was taking my leave from the company as well. Since then the three of us have kind of been doing our own thing.
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Feel better?
N O A H || mister can't shut up
I’m good, but I know I’d feel better if I ever had the chance to punch that guy in the face.
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Well you and I both know, Matt Kraven is a bitch and therefore he’d never face you. He’d never face me. Hell, he’d never even face Ava.
A V A || da bomb dot com
Uhm guys... I’m not here to talk about him or OWF...
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Right, well the thing is Ava. It’s kind of self explanatory to a degree. You know in order to win, you have to avoid going over the top rope.
A V A || da bomb dot com
Right!
E L I J A H || the man with a plan
Then what we need to work on the most is teaching you the many ways of avoiding being tossed over the top rope. Because believe it or not there are many ways to avoid elimination. Not to mention as much as that top rope is your worst enemy, it can also be your best friend if you know how to work things.
A V A || da bomb dot com
I’m ready to look whatever you’re ready to teach me. I just need to go into that match prepared and that way I can do everything that I possibly can in order to become the next one in line for the Titans of the Midway Championship.
N O A H || mister can't shut up
Well this should be fun, We get to beat up on you like the good ol’ days. Get yourself in the ring.
There was no hesitation on my end as I rolled myself right back into the ring. Noah had always been one to talk a lot of trash and try to make me worry about the things that they were going to me in the ring. Course he could never break me the the way that he wanted to. I had trusted them since day one, they are family, and therefore I know they’ve got my best interest in mind. Watching the two of them roll themselves in the ring with me. I knew that this was going to be a lot to take in, I knew I was going to be sore, but most importantly I knew that when I came out of this ring at the end of the night. I would have been blessed with enough knowledge and enough skill to march into Heat Stroke on Thursday Night. I was just one of sixteen, but I planned on being the mightiest of the sixteen!
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) to get to my roleplay. Honestly, this was a tough one. It's been a good while since I wrote with Nova! I'm getting back into the groove of this... pretty hard to define character. lol lyrics are from "Follow You Down" by Lights, which actually inspired the first scene. I included a little box to play the song if you decide you wanna check it out. First scene actually moved me to tears and I must have reworked this whole roleplay maybe 5 times over to get it in a way that I like it. Regardless, thanks for reading this ramble, and good luck to anyone & everyone involved!
