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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:31:34 GMT -5
Segment: It Begins (Credit: Hunter)
As we return from the commercial break, the lights instantly dim, and the fans begin to cheer loudly, assuming that they are applauding the beginning of a new match. Unfortunately for them, a slow, brooding theme hits the speakers, and they realize that the only thing they did was boost an already enormous ego.
...and Hell followed with him...
"The Leper Affinity" blasts through the speakers as Hunter makes his way out to the stage, posing proudly as the fans loudly boo him. He does not return their hate as he usually does, and instead absorbs their boos, raising his arms with each successive...absorption, shall we say? He soon ceases and begins to walk down the ramp, until he finally reaches the ring and quickly rolls in. A stage hand tosses him a mic, and he grabs it out of the air and turns to it, beginning to speak before the music even stops.
Hunter: Well we're gonna have some fun tonight, eh?
The music stops suddenly, and the begins sheepishly quiet down.
Hunter: Oh, and hi.
Some fans chuckle; others begin to type away in their blogs.
Hunter: So let's get this one thing out of the way before I come to the reason I'm out here tonight. In about...I don't know...ten or twenty minutes...I get the unbridled joy of facing VorteX, who, as you'll recall, had the unbridled joy of beating me---
The fans cheer loudly.
Hunter: ...a couple of months ago. Yes, I know, you're ecstatic. Either way, tonight I get to show everyone it was a fluke. I get to kick his ass in one corner of the ring, and then the other, and the other, and the other. And then I'll beat him on all four sides of the ring, and then outside of the ring. And when all is said and done? I'll pin him right in the center of it. Why? Because I can, and because I really just want to get my anger out.
He throws the microphone and catches it midair with his other hand.
Hunter: Yes, I've been practicing, thanks for asking. Now then, on the previous edition of...what was it...Meltdown? Yeah, that. On the previous edition of that, I said that I will become the next Emperor of the Ring. This is true. I also said that to do this, I would not only win the tournament, but win every other conceivable title I can. This is also true. I said that I'd start by defeating Wyvern that night. That was sort of...not un-untrue. Err...yes.
Some of the fans chuckle, whereas others boo the very mention of the World Champion's name.
Hunter: As I've said before, setbacks. I said that the next time we met in the ring, he'd still be hurting from the beating I gave him. This is true, because I sure as hell went to work on him. Now all I need is a shot at the title, which I'll get...when I win the tournament.
Yet again he shifts the microphone's position.
Hunter: But back to the original reason why I'm here: I needed something to do in the mean time, and so this thing that I'm doing is quite simple: I'm challenging one Jacob William Harrison Fedora Ford Cheng to a match for his ACW Light-Heavyweight Championship. Now you might be asking: "Hey...Hunter! You could beat him easily!"
The fans boo.
Hunter: This is true. It may even be my inspiration for challenging him in the first place. But I figure every legend needs to start somewhere, so I might as well chalk up another win against Cheng on my win/loss record while I'm at it, eh?
The boos continue.
Hunter: Eh, fuck you. Another question you might have is, "Hey...Hunter! You weight 245 pounds, that's five pounds over the limit!" Valid...nay, QUITE valid observation there, viewer. Unfortunately for you, that is NOT my current weight. Sure it has been advertised as such, but, funny thing, when you don't wrestle for upwards of a year, you tend to lose some weight. Thankfully, closer to my return, I began to work out yet again, and I regained the majority of my weight. Problem was...I came up five pounds short...
The fans now boo loudly, not believing a single word he says.
Hunter: Alas, good audience, it's true! Call up Sgt. Pepper, call up Martha Stewart, or call up any fat person you know and bring me a scale! I am 240 pounds even, I qualify, and I want Cheng in a match! Now thankfully, I'm a fair man: I'll give him until the next show to respond. But if he doesn't...I'll kill him...
Pause.
Hunter: ...with my awesome wrestling skills, of course! YEAH! Umm...I'm done.
And with that, he drops the mic a fraction of a second after "The Leper Affinity" hits the speakers again. He strikes a rather random pose, and then rolls out of the ring, striking another random pose. The fans now boo him mercilessly, and it is at this point that he returns their hate by throwing curses and middle fingers in every direction. But soon, when he decides he has had enough fun, he simply disappears behind the curtain.
Fade Out
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:31:49 GMT -5
Segment: i sent this to the wrong person but here is a seg for todays show (Credit: Red)
Red is shown wandering around in the backstage locker room. He is waving a bat around and apparently looking for something to do. He appears to be cursed with extreme boredom. He continues his travels backstage and comes to a locker room that says Lambert on the door.
Red grinned evilly as he stared at the door. He reached for the handle but hesitated. He stared at the door for a moment more. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a baseball card. The camera zooms in to find Mr. Red on the card. Mr. Red places the card on the door for Lambert to take note of when he decides to look. He then backed up and turned to leave down the hall.
As he spun around to leave, he came face to face with TK. The crowd gives a mixed reaction as half of them boo for Red and the other half cheer for the Worldbreaker. Both men glare each other eye to eye. TK steps back and eyes Red from head to toe. Then he steps back in and they stare down each other for a moment longer. Within moments, something creeps up between them. Red lets out an evil chuckle as the crowd realizes that his bat has been raised into the picture.
Red begins backing down the hall and brandishing his bat in TK’s direction. TK just stares as Red disappears.
TK: What a gutty move. I like that.
[Thunderkiss turns around to head back towards his dressing room when he bumps right into the camera man. The force of the collision bounces the camera man onto the floor and brings ire out of the Worldbreaker.]
Thunderkiss: I do suggest that if you don’t want to see a proctologist to remove a camera from your rectum that you remove yourself from my sight ... NOW!
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:32:13 GMT -5
Segment: No more Spade and Neuterings? (Credit: Jonny Spade)
The scene opens up with Jonny Spade walking down the hallway nervously. He is seen mumbling words to himself and doing random hand motions as if he is going over some pre rehearsed lines that he has. He comes up to a door and then knocks on it and then the camera pans over to show the name plate saying
“CHAIRMAN GINGERDUDE’S OFFICE”
A few moments later a voice within the office a voice is heard “come in” is heard and Jonny takes a moment before opening the door to his office and then he walks into the office of Gingerdude and takes a seat in a chair opposite of Gingerdude.
Gingerdude takes a moment of his own to finish some paper work before he looks up to Jonny.
Gingerdude: Yes Jonathan what can I do for you?
Jonny: Uh….I am not so sure as to how to say this, so I will just come out and say it. I would like to have a vacation please.
Gingerdude: Hmm…how long were you thinking of this vacation lasting?
Jonny: Oh I don't know….a month maybe?
Jonny says that last sentence in a higher pitched note as he finishes it.
Gingerdude: Hmm…
Ginger turns 90 degrees in his seat and leans back in his chair.
Gingerdude: Why?
Jonny: Well…
Jonny begins with…
Jonny: This past few months I’ve just not been feeling “it” y’know? I lost that factor that I had the past couple of years and I think that if I have some time off I can re-energize myself so that I can feel “it” once again and come back and be a force to reckon with here.
Gingerdude: I..see… Well its not like you were to exciting on camera anyways…
Jonny: …What was that?
Gingerdude: Hmm? Oh? That was nothing. Okay I guess I will give you that time off
Jonny: Great tha--
Gingerdude: But…
Jonny: But?
Gingerdude: But….you go on this vacation without pay.
Jonny: ….Deal.
Jonny had no choice really. He needed this vacation for himself.
Gingerdude: Alright I guess I will see you around in a month.
Jonny gets up and shakes the hand of Gingerdude and then leaves the office. Once the door closes behind him he leaves with a smile on his face as the scene ends.
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:32:36 GMT -5
Segment: I Tried So Hard to Cleanse These Regrets (Credit: Flamingo)
They say that we’re born into this world alone and that we die that way too. So, logically, the whole point of life was to make friends, swap stories, and enjoy yourself until you came full circle again. Problem was, some people just didn’t click with that thought process and some even liked it that way. Oh yes, some people didn’t fit in and enjoyed it. That’s right, instead of acting all dark and depressed, they embraced their solidarity with an iron fist and held it close to their hearts. The silence made them stronger and the solitude embraced them far more than any “friend” or “loved one” could ever hope to.
Adrian Flamingo wasn’t the type to go out to restaurants on a weekend evening. That many people touching and messing with his food turned his stomach queasy and incompetence of waitress/college students made him want to take his salad fork and jam it into his ear lobe. The worst, perhaps, were the large families of five that would sit in those large, round corner booths that seemed to look over everyone. Dad, in his polo shirt of some pastel variety would cackle loudly as he listened to Mother’s humorous story about running into an old high school friend at the market. Little brother would playfully nudge his sister and she’d playfully shove it back over their plates of hot chicken tenders and fries and everyone would smile. Fuck that. No, if that were Adrian’s family, he and his sister would’ve had to been separated from clawing one another while Dad stayed on his cellphone talking business to big Japan and mom would be downing those margaritas like it was the fountain of youth. Oh well, they may’ve been dysfunctional, but at least they were memorable in every Macados and IHOP in the continental US.
Adrian sat down in his Applebees booth and was told his waitress would be with him soon by the young, brunette hostess. Immediately, Adrian scanned the walls and stared at all of the goofy shit that was fastened to the walls for absolutely no reason at all. What exactly was Applebee’s theme? Yard sale? City dump? Pack-rat collector? As Adrian’s eyes made it past to the autographed photo of the cast from 21 Jump Street, his eyes fixed on a young couple sitting at a table. Both the guy and girl looked around the room nervously at first but would then gaze back down onto one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Oh yeah, that was cute. Adrian began to look around the room for something else to look at.
He never went out to eat for the food or the atmosphere, Adrian dined out for the people-watching experience… much just like he went to other social places like carnivals or the malls. Call him creepy if you want, but Adrian always enjoyed staring at man or woman in their natural habitats. For some reason, people would put on some sort of façade of happiness when surrounded by their fellow man and he couldn’t tell you whether he thought it was funny or sad. It was funny to think that the same married couple having salads and an onion blossom on table three were secretly miserable together. The cute couple on their first date on table twelve would end in a blazing glory when she gets bored of him and cheats on him for a month before dumping him. The young girl having dinner with her family on table seven was three months pregnant, but was too afraid to tell her parents. Yet, everyone was smiling. Weird.
Adrian Flamingo didn’t watch people so that he could tout on and on about how superior he was to them. No, he did it so he could figure out what they thought was so great about the lives they led. How could they surround themselves with people when they were the number one parasite in the known world? Oh well, Adrian though to himself as he took his eyes of the family of three on table seven, if that’s what they need to get by, then so be it. He, on the other hand, didn’t need nor want anyone anymore. He had turned himself into a self-sufficient machine void of dependence on others. Some say that’s a sad existence, but Adrian couldn’t complain.
There were no birthdays to remember, no obligations, no late night phone calls, no “hanging out”, sure that sucked. On the flipside there was no fighting, no pain, no cheating, no infidelity, no ignorance, no egos… there was just solace. If Adrian could tell the world his secret of a misery-free life, they would laugh at him. The Beatles said “all you need is love”, but Adrian discovered that was also unnecessary. All he needed was pain to motivate him, anger to guide him, and the fans in attendance at ringside to fuel him. He was a gladiator, and he would gladly live and die by the sword.
Adrian flipped open the menu and tried to find something to eat that wouldn’t be laced with some kind of narcotic by the high school dropouts cooking in the back.
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:33:40 GMT -5
Match 3: Echo vs Andrew Williams (Credit: Hitman)
In this match of the fast-paced tecnicos, Echo started off with a handshake then a test of strength. Echo surprised Williams by spinning around Williams, teasing a backslide, before finally sending him to the canvas with an arm drag. Another arm drag was in order for Williams, who then arm dragged Echo to the canvas before exchanging a standoff. The crowd popped like they always do for standoffs since it's cool to do that. Echo then locked up with Williams and got forced into the corner. Echo received a knife-edge chop for her troubles only to chop Williams back in retaliation. A small exchange of chops occurred before Echo kneed Williams in the midsection. An Irish whip led to Williams ducking under a clothesline and hitting Echo with a leg lariat for a two count.
Echo did get back up but was promptly taken down with a hip toss for yet another two count. Williams then headed to the apron and looked for a springboard leg lariat but Echo hit the canvas and watched Williams crash and burn. Of course, this was a perfect set-up for Echo's dangerous Rapid Fire. Williams' face was now singing the blues after all those facewash kicks. Echo then watched Williams sit up and took him back to the canvas with a dropkick for a two. Williams was then picked up and brought into the corner. Echo delivered a stiff knee to Williams' midsection before whipping him into the opposite corner. Actually, Williams reversed it, causing Echo to jump up onto the second rope. However, Williams jumped up onto the second rope with Echo and surprised her by delivering a swift leg-lift spinebuster all the way to the canvas!
Williams was not finished yet, though, as he applied a single leg crab to Echo immediately afterwards. Echo put up with the pain for approximately 23.7 seconds before grabbing the bottom rope. Williams immediately released Echo due to respect and fear of getting disqualified. Williams went to pick up Echo, who caught Williams offguard with a drop toe hold. Williams hit the ropes and Echo got up and rolled up Williams… into a Fujiwara armbar, suckers! Williams resisted the pain of this move and got to his feet, arm dragging Echo to the canvas. Echo got to her feet but was instantly set up for William's patented Tiger Bomb. But when Echo was brought up onto William's shoulders, she caught Williams with double elbows. It appeared the Lacrimosa was in Williams' future… and it was, gaining Echo a three count. After the match, a surprised Williams stood up and helped Echo to her feet, shaking her hand for a great contest. Williams headed to the back while Echo was allowed time to celebrate.
Winner: Echo
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:34:03 GMT -5
OTA Segment: Fuck rodeos; they interfere with writing -_- (Credit: Hitman)
If I've learned one thing in my life, it's this: never attempt to write riffs when you get stressed about the EOTR tournament.
It was no secret from within my camp that I was writing and planning for a possible second album for Demon Inc. All alone within a rented cabin in the Cypress Hills area, I looked out the window and noticed the wind was beginning to gradually pick up. Why was the wind choosing to move at an accelerated pace? Was God mad at something so he sent this chill to attack us? Or was it just a cold day, nothing more and nothing less? Regardless of where my weather issues stood, it was nice to be away from everyone else for a while just to write music.
Yet I couldn't help but wonder about the EOTR tournament and what it would hold in store for me. All I could think about was looking out for myself in this tournament and no one else. As much as Jay Zero was becoming a brother to me, I couldn't look out for his best interests. I wanted to watch my back when it came to this tournament. It would all begin when I would take on Miss Rena Matheson. Ah yes, ACW's resident sex guru or so I've heard. Why did she need to sell her body to get her point across? Did she feel that life was offering a cruel twist to the game she played? Maybe it was something in a past life to cover up her shame, the shame of being a broken woman and an individual with no purpose in life.
And then I remembered Andrew Hunter, the supposed "leader" of the soon-to-be-dead Senatorial Stable. All of the people that have departed his family, so to say, must have taken a toll on his mind. It started with Wyvern, then Jason Freeman, then Rattlesnake and most recently, Scott Andrews. So much for being a dominant stable, I suppose. But I watched his interview with Kevin on Meltdown. Either he had been hopped up on morphine or his ego was starting to make a downward spiral completely out of control. All I knew is that if he were to cross my path, I'd beat him so bad, I wouldn't make him just forget about his former stable members, I would make him forget his own name as well.
Amidst all those people in the tournament, there was still one person who I was looking forward to wrestling and that was Yoko Satoshi.
I believed that I would soundly defeat that shell of a former self named Rena and Yoko would overcome… whoever it was she was scheduled to face. Then, it would be her and I in the ring together. No one would interfere and no one would stick their filthy nose in our business and that's just the way I would've liked it. I wanted this to be about me ending her streak. Were people calling me a big dreamer? I call it confidence and a sense of pride in my work. Everything that I worked for in this business would be like a culmination of sorts when I defeated Yoko. Then what would happen? Would management finally see me as a main eventer that they've dreamed of? Would I get a shot at the International title or even better, the World title? Surely I would get rewarded for something if I were to soundly defeat Yoko in the ring and advance in the EOTR tourney.
For now, all I wanted to do was concentrate on the second album for Demon Inc. After all, it was a better alternative flow of thoughts than wrestling for the time being.
*Snap!*
…………
"THE FUCKING TOP STRING BROKE!!!"
Ah, the glamorous life a wrestler/musician.
Fade.
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:34:40 GMT -5
Segment: ....Screw trying to name this.. (Credit: Jay Zero / Jason Freeman) We open up to the scene of what looks to be the Entourage locker room. Duffle bags lie all over the room as posters of women are displayed all over the walls. Jay Zero is seen walking out of the bathroom with his can of hairspray, laying on some final touches. The door opens and there he is; The newest installment of the stable. Jason Freeman.Zero looks straight at him, wishing there was a way to avoid the situation. Freeman enters the room walking right over to his bag, in need of something. [/center] Freeman: Hey! There’s a pause as Jay doesn’t make a sound. He slowly turns his back on the former Senatorial Stable member and places his can of hair spray down on counter. Not wanting to confront the man that he holds the grudge with deep down, Jay considers walking back into the bathroom, however, it’s not that simple. [/center] Freeman: Hey, have you seen my soap? I need a shower after that match. Still---Jay says nothing. After a few moments of silence, Freeman turns his head over and looks back at Jay. [/center] Freeman: Hello? You hear me? Zero: Mm.. [/color] Jay shakes his head, telling him he doesn’t know where Freeman left it. Freeman notices that Zero isn't answering him, but he decides to continue the conversation anyways. [/center] Freeman: So, you see my match? Zero: Yup. [/color] Freeman: Well, what did you think? Zero: Meh. [/color] Freeman fiddles with his things a bit more before standing back up and looking at Jay, his face slightly scrunched up. [/center] Freeman: You okay? Zero: Yeah. [/color] Jay turns around and starts heading for the bathroom again, grabbing the hairspray in the process. [/center] Freeman: Well, what’s with all the one word answers? Zero: I dunno. [/color] He almost reaches the door to the bathroom… [/center] Freeman: Hey, listen, if you have something to say to me, at least say it to my face. Jay swings around slowly. Gazing into the eyes of the confident Freeman. [/center] Freeman: So, come on! Lay it on me! Slowly, Jay makes his way towards Freeman. The height difference is only by a few inches but Jay is still looking up a bit at Freeman. [/center] Zero: Are you kidding me, right now? Heh…[/color] He turns to walk off. [/center] Freeman: What? You still upset that big bad Freeman got the best of you at Omega Effect? Haha He quickly swings around, grabbing Freeman by the collar of his shirt and pushing him onto the bar, breaking some bottles in the process. [/center] Freeman: Hey, what the...?! Zero: Listen to me you little punk ass bitch! I don’t have a clue in my entire mind just what Kiss was thinking, pulling your desperate, two-bit career out of the trash bin where it belonged and into the greatest thing to hit ACW since myself! [/color] Freeman: Get your hands off of me! Zero: What you did at Omega was shady and I’ll be damned if I just let that slide, Freeman! Now you sure as hell know I don’t like you and I’m not gonna act any certain way just so you and I can co-exist in the same locker room and in the same group! Let the record show that I don’t respect you, nor do I want to look at your “shining” face here every single day. You and I have A LOT of unsettled business, and don’t you think twice about me settling it, Entourage in my way or NOT! [/color] Jay pushes Freeman back and begins to head for the door, wanting to end this conversation. [/center] Freeman: Oh you know what, Jay? I'm sick of hearing the same ol' same ol' crap from you! IT was a cage match, I did what I had to do to win! So boo hoo you prima donna I won! Deal with it! Oh and--haha, look who got the last laugh! Freeman scoffs and he kind of laughs a bit as Jay opens the door. [/center] Zero: Oh, Jason.....He who laughs last, thinks the slowest. [/color] Jay smiles at him and closes the door as he exits the room. Freeman still has a grin on his face, however it looks like he’s holding something back. The scene begins to fade out. [/center]
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:35:16 GMT -5
Segment: Didn’t You Get The Message... (Credit: Jake Cheng)
The Light Heavyweight Champion of ACW’s locker room....is in the same condition it was in the last segment. But that segment took place last Thursday...
The lights were on, the fridge was open, the phone had a blinking “1” to represent an unheard message and Stan the Cameraman’s right hand was stuck in the sink. It’s a good thing he had that fridge right there to get food and drink out of with his left hand. He even managed to grab a nearby pillow to rest his head on.
And Jake certainly didn’t expect to see this coming into his locker room.
Jake: Stan!
Stan’s head rises from the pillow, a facial expression of joy across his face. Someone is here to save him! But the joy turns to hatred when he remembers the message. “So Stan...you’re fired.” That’s how it went. He’ll never forget it.
Jake: What the fuck are you still doing here?
Stan shifts to the left to reveal his hand. Jake glances at the phone and sees the one. This wasn’t how he planned to fire one of his best friends.
Jake: So you didn’t get the me..
Stan: I got it. I was already stuck by then.
Jake: Oh...well...um...
Stan: You know you are a fucking coward right?
Jake: What did you call me?
Stan: A coward. You fired me over the phone.
Jake: Umm, it happens a lot with employees. I think you are thinking about break-ups over the phone. You watch too much TV. Now, did you try...
Stan: So we weren’t friends?
Jake: we were. Best. But I need to focus. Eleven wins until I have a winning record. I’m so close I can taste it.
Stan: But...
Jake: But nothing. I’m doing something for me now Stan. Now, did you try using the butter in the fridge, since you ate everything else out of it.
Stan facepalms himself and Jake rummages through the fridge before finding a stick of butter. He puts in on a plate and makes a move for the microwave. Fifteen seconds is all it needs. Jake looks over at Stan after he start the appliance,
Jake: I’ll give you another N64 game if you want...
Stan rolls his eyes and the microwave timer buzzes. Jake pulls out the semi-melted butter from the microwave. He starts to pour the warm liquid butter down the drain and Stan pulls his hand free before they even use all the butter. Stan clutches his wrist and moves his hand around to adjust to having his limb freed. Jake grins briefly.
Jake: Good. Now get your stuff and GET OUT!
Stan’s grin fades. He tries to stand his ground but eventually his emotions get the better of him. The cries quietly as he gets his few things from the locker room and opens the door to leave.
Jake: Get out. Take a shower too, you smell like popcorn.
He runs down the hallway. Jay Zero looks into the locker room thought he doorway at Jake.
Jake: What the fuck do you want Zero?
Zero shrugs before walking away in the direction Stan ran away in. Jake sighs and shuts the door. Alone. Hopefully it’s what Jake needs to get those eleven more wins. Or else he just made a mistake he will regret.
Fade Out
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:36:01 GMT -5
Segment: Meeting with the Angels (Credit: Ross)
The sound of High Speed Dirt by Megadeth plays, as the scene opens into a Biker Garage, there’s a scattering of men and women around, denim jeans, wifebeater vests, Harley Davidson bikes, there’s about 7 people in there, 5 blokes, 2 girls, all in matching outfits, in the room is also 7 bikes, toolboxes, on a wall is a coat hanger with black, studded jackets with different logo’s, 2 guys are examining a black Harley Davidson with an American Flag Engine Tank design, admiring the tuning, one girl is talking to the tallest biker, a well-built man, the only one here in a differing attire, this man has a jacket on, black leather, sharp metal studs and a big “Motorhead” patch sewn into the back and on the top a “Hells Angels” banner is sewn in, long brown hair coursing over his shoulders, the last 2 guys and a girl are wandering around, looking for pieces, by a wall is a table covered in a tonne of bike parts, the garage door is open and the radio is booming out Megadeth.
Tall Guy: Vulcan, is the bike readeh yet?
The Tall Guy has a mild Southern Accent, one of the two men examining the bike turns around and looks at the tall guy.
Vulcan: Nearly Lynch, bro, we just gotta’ do some bits and pieces on this machine and we’ll be ready to rock, this baby is already pretty sweet to ride, just need to tune it somewhat and get a little kink out with the Engine and we’ll be ready to roll.
Tall Guy/Lynch: Sounds good bro, Vulc you’re my main man, I trust you on this little project bro.
Girl talking to Lynch/Shotgun: Hey, Vulcan, you up for a job?
Lynch: Yeah, me and Shotgun here are gonna’ go out on a little mission into Vegas, gotta’ race tournament up, we’re gonna’ make our presence known tonight.
Vulcan: Damn man… I can’t, I’ve got some shit to do, me & Panic are going to stake-out some Gold Wing Road Riders tonight Lynch… I’m sorry, we’re getting a first look at their engines.
Lynch: Dammit man… we need you there but I s’pose tonight would be the best night for it.
Shotgun: Don’t worry about it, Lynch honey, we’ll find someone to take his place.
Lynch: Anybody else wanna do i-
Suddenly, the door flies open, a man with long black hair walks in and everyone turns their attention to the intruder, a man with long raven hair walks in, well built muscles but a tiny bit shorter then Lynch, in a black leather overcoat, black cargo pants and a white vest, black leather belt with a silver buckle, big flame boots, he walks in.
Man: I’ll do it…
Lynch glares at this arrival, he casts an eye at him.
Lynch: Who the Hell are you?
Man: The Name is Ross Lambert… you don’t know me, but do I know you… Hells Angels, most respect slash feared biker club in the world, I’m willing to help you out with your bits and pieces.
Lynch: Ross Lambert… Hmm… You’re wrong… I do know you.
Ross: I say you do look vaguely familiar.
Lynch: Where you from kid?
Ross: Temecula.
Lynch: Same man… you’re that Goth guy right? With the wicked cool brother, Spike?
Ross: Hey yeah… Goth… Heheh… Yeah, I was a depressive at one stage.
Lynch: I’m Alex Baker, head of the Engineering Club at school, didn’t you turn all faggy and become a wrestler or somethingl?
Ross: Rings bells… and no, I avoid the actual hugging of wrestling, much preferring to kick people in the mouth.
Lynch: Now as good as it is to see you again, unless you’re a badass or a decent bike rider, I see you’ve jacked up a bit but you don’t look to be either, hard or a decent rider.
Ross: Baker… lemme prove you wrong. Open them shutters and you can cop a load of my ride.
Lynch pulls out a remote control from his jacket pocket and flicks the electro switch which makes the garage shutter start to climb, on the other side of the shutter is a Harley Davidson, Pitch Black V-Rod as moonlight spills through the shutters, a lone White Skull on the engine, green flames spewing out of the back of the skull, also a large engine, bursting with petrol, perfectly tuned suspension and engine as well as dry tires.
Lynch: Holy Shit… dude where the Hell are you getting all this stuff… this musta’ cost a fortune!
Ross: Being an oiled up fag has it’s advantages, Baker. >_>
Lynch: It’s Lynch now… by the way. I dropped my name many moons ago.
Ross: Alright Lynch.
Lynch: Can I have a look at your ride?
Ross: Sure.
Ross throws his set of keys to Lynch who catches them, Lynch hops onto Ross’s bike and jams the keys into the ignition, light up and he revs the engine, the smooth sounding rippling through the air, Lynch accelerates slightly and recoils in the speed, as he rolls forward.
Lynch: Damn bro… didn’t have you figured for a tuner!
Ross: There’s a lot you don’t know about me bro. Now you still having second thoughts about me joining up?
Lynch: Well no, but I’m still gonna’ put you through the test… son if you’re as badass as you look, you’ll be able to handle our test, now son there’s a tonne of wannabe’s cueing up and driving around our turf... if you can get one alive, I’ll let you in.
Ross looks around, he sees some cars and a single yellow Harley with a pasty nerd on it, Ross sprints over to the bike as the bike drives towards him, the bike gathers speed but Ross swerves and lunges forward, spearing the wannabe right off of his bike, Ross gets to his feet and sees the nerd rolling around, clutching his gut, Ross drags the nerd by his ankle down the road back to the garage as Lynch, Shotgun and Vulcan look on, impressed, he drags the guy right to the shutter door, he then shrugs at Lynch, who returns his shrug, Ross looks back at the nerd who’s squirming around trying to get away, Ross lunges forward, grabbing him by his shirt, keeping him place.
Lynch: Welcome to the Hells Angels… Spear, now what do you need help with?
Ross: Well… I’ve got a little problem that I need wiping out… you think you can help?
Lynch: Sure… consider it done.
[Fade]
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:36:29 GMT -5
Segment: "Big Surprise" (Credit: Rattlesnake)
Just days after Rattlesnake made his true intentions known about leaving the Senatorial Stable, there's been a lot of talking about the state of emergency for the Senatorial Stable. First Jason Freeman, then Rattlesnake and then Scott Andrews. The Senatorial Stable was crumbling at the very foundation as Rattlesnake said it was at Heatwave. Things weren't looking good for them, but Rattlesnake didn't really care.
Let's put it this way. It's simply a domino effect. One person leaves and the stable weakens. Another person leaves and it weakens some more. A third person leaves and not only does it weaken even more, but it creates a sense of chaos. You lose half of your members and chaos starts to ensue. You find yourself trying to do anything to get new people to join your little band of misfits. And yet, no matter what you do, it just doesn't seem to make up for what you lost in the first place.
Big surprise.
Rattlesnake stands around a suburb at dusk. He kicks a rock as he continues to think about the Senatorial Stable.
Rattlesnake: So this is what chaos looks like. You lose a few people, you can't determine a leader, and you find any way to recruit. Why does this seem like a big deal to me?
Here it comes. The reason why Rattlesnake was so curious about this was a reasonable one. It, of course, would be slightly unexpected to hear though.
Rattlesnake: Simple. To see who they can find to replace the rather large gaps left by the people that departed. To see just who can fill that void left by myself. I can tell you that by looking at the roster in-depth, you can't really find much of anyone that can fill the void I left. But that's just how it goes. This is how they come to terms with the reality of the situation.
The reality? Some people are just irreplaceable. You can't just find some substitute and expect them to fit into that spot with the same tenacity, talent, attitude, and appearance. It just doesn't work that way and they have to come to terms with that.
Rattlesnake: And now the big question on everybody's mind is just what do I intend to do now. I can tell you that I'm taking it easy. I don't have the Senatorial Leach wrapped around my neck anymore. I'm not one of their puppets. I can sit around and do whatever I damn well please. In fact, I think I'm just going to walk around for a while. I don't have anything better...or worse...to do.
Rattlesnake just walks. He looks around and shrugs. It was, after all, pretty bland scenery. Nothing to really write home about. Then again, when is it ever?
Rattlesnake: Boring. Simply boring.
Something needed to happen. Something needed to add some spice to a miserably boring day thus far. But what could spice the day up? A fight? A movie? Invading someone's locker room and seeing just what kinds of skeletons are hiding in their closets? Something had to be done. But there was nothing. No open opportunity for any shenanigans. No miserable bastard walking around with a chip on his shoulder so big that it would cause him to get into a fight with Rattlesnake. No booze. Just a path and nothing more. Boring.
Rattlesnake: I can't take this! Something needs to happen and dammit, I'm going to make it happen!
All of a sudden, that all too familiar feeling came across Rattlesnake. Everyone should know that feeling by now. "That" feeling. "That" presence. "That" which went away found it's way back.
Cobra: Honey...I'm home!
Rattlesnake: Oh shit.
That all too familiar presence had returned. The last time they encountered each other, Cobra made a threat that he would be back some day and it wouldn't be a pleasant visit. It seems like Rattlesnake will have to face Cobra's wrath.
Fade Out
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:39:40 GMT -5
Match 4: Hunter vs VorteX (Credit: Lambert)
*Note: The loser is not actually in ACW anymore, or alive for that matter, this match takes place a year later when Hunter dies again and goes to hell...which looks a lot like ACW. >_>
This match was a typical ACW match, fast paced ass kicking, Hunter got a huge heel reaction and VorteX managed to get a pretty decent pop as well, but not quite Hunter’s where Hunter was of the loudest of the night, this match was well paced, most of ACW’s matches are above the normal standard for a large federation and this match was no different, VorteX picked up the early lead after a quick technical bout, which Hunter tried to hit a running counter Samoan Drop but VorteX rolled off the back and hit a Spinning Heel kick right into Hunter’s mush. Hunter at a later stage looked like he was going to come back after hitting a Reverse DDT onto VorteX, but when trying to peel VorteX off the mat he got yanked off his feet and then Release German Suplexed by Vortex. Hunter’s counter efforts were in vain as VorteX would dodge his moves and return a swift kick here and there, Hunter secured the advantage about halfway through with a running counter Déjà vu, which totally threw VorteX off his game, the match was Hunter’s now as he hit a crushing Belly to Belly Suplex, Hunter went for the cover attempt but Vortex kicked out.
Vortex managed to come back by snapping in a Cross Armbreaker throw and began to torque the arm of Hunter, Hunter scrambled around the ring and was close enough to the ropes to snap a ropebreak, VorteX immediately broke it and started stamping on Hunter, VorteX tried to hit a Hammerlock Belly to Belly but Hunter managed to counter out, Hunter hit a Russian Leg Sweep which threw VorteX down, cover, no Hunter managed to kick out, Hunter towards the end nailed VorteX with a Sit-Out Alabama Slam which got a buzz from the crowd, VorteX managed to kick out of a cover attempt and was being pretty resilient, VorteX at one stage had Hunter sufficiently out to warrant hitting a massive Whirlwind of Destruction which Hunter narrowly managed to kick out, coming to the end of the match, Hunter hit Poetic Justice which surprisingly, VorteX managed to kick out, after the Poetic Justice, Hunter started to pose around, waiting for VorteX to get up, SPAAAAARTAAA! Kick right in the chest, which VorteX managed to kick out of, the Spartan kick got a pretty decent reaction.
VorteX managed to hit another Release German Suplex, he then levelled Hunter with a Blackout Dropkick, which got a massive reaction for VorteX’s athletic ability, VorteX then went to put the cherry on top with some Psychosurgery, but Hunter managed to get some brutal knee shots in and returned with a vicious Knee to the face followed by a quick Floyd Kick for the 123. Winner = Hunter, Hunter raised his arms as VorteX started to stir, VorteX was back to his feet as Hunter was up the ramp. Pretty sweet match, 2 Star, pretty standard ACW.
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:40:19 GMT -5
Segment: Victory (Credit: Lambert)
The scene opens onto Ross Lambert, posing with his Harley Davidson, in his black jacket, cargo pants & boots with his white and green camouflage style headband, he’s leaning on the bike, posing for a picture, surrounding him is hundreds of people, the scene is a party area, as camera’s flash everywhere on Ross, he smiles, seeing all the men and women around him, cheering, suddenly, a large figure bursts through the crowd, the familiar face of Lynch, he bursts through and walks over, quick hug to Lambert before looking at him.
Lynch: Hey buddy, Spear! I can’t believe your driving… that was INSANE. You just earned my respect.
Ross: Well Lynch it wasn’t easy… the Blood Raiders were some mild competition for me y’know!
Lynch: Yeah Ross… these people are all yours now… you pretty much say what goes.
Ross muses at this… as he stands around, the crowd waiting for his word.
Ross: PARTY!
Everybody cheers loudly as Motorhead play in the background, people start boozing and smoking, chatting and moshing.
Lynch: Come on buddy… me and the crew wanna talk to you.
Ross: OK! Let’s go!
Lynch & Ross push through the crowd, trying to escape the massive mosh pits, they break out of it and head off to a small table over by a garage, at the table is Shotgun and Vulcan, both of them woop upon Ross’s arrival. Ross & Lynch draw up chairs and they watch on.
Lynch: Woo… that was some fancy driving Spear! You owned them all.
Ross: Thanks… I couldn’t have done it without you guys.
Lynch: Don’t thank us Spear… tonight is your night… all of the crowd will do what you tell them like I said, Blood Raiders will think twice before messing with us again… you really skewered them, and the way you took that jump was spectacular… but listen man… there’s more serious money to be made.
Ross: Yeah?
Lynch: See… in a few weeks there’s a big war… fist fight, Triads against Yakuza… should be pretty nasty… now if we drive through in a big entourage… not only can we distract them from the fight so that police can get there… we can also pick up a Police Bonus and any wallets that we find on the ground, you hear me Spear?
Ross: Do we have too? The police sorta’ don’t like me. >_>
Lynch: Well it’s up to you, do you want cash or you wanna hole up?
Ross: Fine… I’ll go… but first you gotta’ help me with something else….
[FADE]
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Segment: A twist in the triangle (Credit: Echo/AK)
The scene opens up in the decidedly non-descript locker room which is now in semi regular use by the enigmatic young woman known as Echo.
Having returned from her match, she is allowing her body to recuperate from the immediate stresses of the contest by resting on the couch. Technically, she’s fit enough not to need more than a few minutes to cool off; her apparent lethargy is more to do with the scarp slope of melancholy which she is sliding down now that the temporary hit from the match is leaving her system.
Her hands are folded over her chest, and her knees jut up in the air; this is because her sometime companion and confidant, Joachim, has not left the place where he was sitting when she exited the room previously, and shows no sign of moving to let her stretch out. As the camera finds them, Joachim is seemingly contemplating Echo’s calves; Echo is staring up at the ceiling once more, but every so often, her eyes flick to where she can just about see the perfectly groomed top of Joachim’s hair, as startlingly black as the interior of an unlit and unknown room.
She certainly looks calm; maybe even a little bit serene, as she’d promised herself. But as just about anyone over the age of four can tell you, appearances can be more than a tad deceptive. At the moment, though, it’s a deception that Echo doesn’t seem to want to let go of.
Eons seemingly could pass in this manner, if the protagonists were so inclined. After a few beats, however, Joachim crosses his leg over his knee and leans back against the upholstery.
Joachim: You really shouldn’t persist with dwelling on inconsequential things.
No answer. He blinks, slowly.
Joachim: In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Hughes is in rude health; and your own performance tonight was quite satisfactory. So you might say that match did you both some good, if such a platitude soothes your sensitivities.
Another short pause, shortly broken when Echo snaps at him.
Echo: I know that he’s fine, ok? And I told you before, so am I. There’s nothing different about tonight from any other night here…
The uncharacteristic shortness of her tone is decidedly telling. Joachim opens his mouth, but thinks better of whatever it was he was going to say. He turns his head unbidden very slightly toward the door, something which Echo doesn’t consciously notice since she’s gone back to examining the whitewash for cracks-
There is a knocking at the door. Echo twitches, and calls out with the least inviting tone she can manage.
Echo (sullen): Who’s there?
The voice which comes back is muffled, but distinct.
Alicia: It’s only me, I won’t disturb you if you’re busy.
Echo hesitates for a moment, as if in two minds, but then hauls herself off of the couch and pads barefoot over to the door, opening it up just as Alicia is deciding whether she should move along.
Echo: Hey.
Alicia smiles in greeting. She can tell at once that something is bothering Echo beneath the surface, and keeps her comments as innocuous as possible.
Alicia: Hey… I just thought I’d stop by and say hello, seeing as I haven’t seen you since Heatwave. How’s tricks?
Echo shrugs.
Echo: Average, I guess.
It’s hardly an invitation to a girly chat. Alicia furrows her brow for a fraction of a second, and then spots Joachim lounging on the couch. He’s gazing vaguely in the direction of the door; their eyes connect for no more than a millisecond or two, but something about it makes Alicia blink. She quickly looks back at Echo and reaches the obvious conclusion.
Alicia: Well, that’s better than below average I suppose… listen, I didn’t realise you had company, we can catch up another time.
She takes a step backward, and Echo resurfaces to a certain extent from the state she had allowed herself to sink into; she registers Alicia’s words, and suddenly decides that she could do with someone different to talk to, and something different to talk about. She opens the door wider, looking for a second as if she's about to pull Alicia in.
Echo: No. No, as a matter of fact, now is fine. Don’t mind ‘Chim, he’ll just tune out anything which falls below his intellectual level.
A hint of a smirk flits across Joachim’s face before his expression returns to its usual still composure. Alicia comes in, and Echo takes a seat on one of the spare chairs so that Alicia can have the other end of the couch. She sits with a carefulness which is notable, and Echo notices properly for the first time the fringe of a mottled dark patch across her shoulder, largely concealed by her top.
Echo: Carrying a memento of your Heatwave match, I see.
Alicia nods.
Alicia: I’d say I was lucky to get away with things as they were. That was an incredibly intense experience, and I’ve had a few of those in my time.
Alicia winces slightly as she flexes the muscles of her arm and back, but that’s the only sign of lingering discomfort. Echo can tell that Alicia is relaxed, and this causes her own feelings to flare momentarily, almost in an envious way. Curiosity gets the better of her.
Echo: So…if I may pry. What was it like when the two of you went off of that cage?
Alicia furrows her brow again.
Alicia: In what sense?
Echo: What I mean is, that moment just before you fell… what did that feel like?
Alicia thinks about this for a moment. She becomes vaguely aware that Joachim has crossed his legs the other way and is looking at the space just over her shoulder, as if not wanting her to see that she has his full attention.
Alicia: Mainly, it was all adrenaline, there’s not much space for conscious thought in a situation like that. Part of me was scared, for both of us, but equally it was obvious by that point that there was no other way I was going to win the match, or more importantly bring it to an end before one or the other of us lost control and did something really stupid.
Echo frowns, though her eyes stay slightly bemused. For the slightest tenth of a second, she seems almost like Joachim.
Echo: Don’t take this wrong, but some people might say that last stunt itself was stupid, or at the least irresponsible.
Alicia looks fractionally stung by this, even though she can easily see the validity of Echo’s point.
Alicia: That’s certainly one way of looking at it. I’m sure it would have been better if I could KO someone with a single kick, but that’s just not something I’m capable of.
Any hint of amusement in Echo's eyes vanishes in a single blink. She stands abruptly, nearly knocking a cushion off the couch, and starts for the door.
Echo: ...Excuse me. I need some water.
She walks out tersely, without bothering to look over her shoulder. Alicia knows that she’s overstepped some sort of mark, and sighs. She senses once again that feeling on the back of her neck, and turns her head to see Joachim looking at her. He half-smiles, in a kind of detached manner.
Joachim: She’s still sensitive about her own power. I do what I can to help her come to accept it, but we all have lapses once in a while...her more than others, I think at times. You, I sense, have travelled some distance further along that road.
Alicia looks back at him; there is something simultaneously unnerving and fascinating about the man in front of her. She feels strangely akin to a tourist who has stepped blithely out of the Indian forest on to a track to discover a fully grown Royal Bengal tiger a few meters ahead.
Alicia: You might say that. I’ve certainly had my days of concern over what I might do if provoked or piqued sufficiently. But if the last couple of months have taught me anything, it’s that such uncertainty represents a bigger weakness than being unable to believe in your own powers of self-determination. To think without acting can be just as big a failing as to act without thinking.
Joachim puts his hand on his knee, squeezing it a little. His head cocks slowly, shifting to the right like some kind of clockwork dog, as his cold blue eyes study Alicia with a certain clinical thoughtfulness.
Joachim: You've spoken truly, m'dear. Fulfilling what potential one has is all about clarity of conscience, and I’m not referring to the constricted and fabricated moral sense which most people would take that to mean. Do you understand what I am describing?
He watches her with a completely relaxed posture; only the fact that his pupils are static gives away the level of his attention. Alicia considers her response before replying.
Alicia: I’d say that you’re talking about a person’s ability to fully understand what it is that causes them to make the choices that are presented to them… at a coarse level, it’s the difference between a clerk who cheats the bank they work for by clocking off early or petty theft, and the guy who goes and robs the bank outright. They both do it because they want something without working for it, but the robber is aware of and embraces that motivation, while the clerk constantly seeks to justify his actions internally, failing to recognise that his real problem is that he’s lazy and quite likely inadequate in several ways. Putting morals aside, as you said, it’s easy to tell which of the pair sleeps better at night.
Joachim allows his eyebrow to raise just a little in tandem with a smile in transit across his features. One end of a lip curls upwards, revealing well-tended pearly teeth. Despite the aesthetic appearances, one could note again that it is most certainly not a pleasant smile.
Joachim: Quite so. To borrow your own expression, I am currently teaching Echo that it is acceptable, desirable for one’s development even, to rob a few banks now and then… especially when one has a talent for such things. And if a clerk or two happens to stumble into the crossfire, so be it.
Alicia is wondering what to make of that last comment when Echo walks back into the room. She has two bottles of water, and looks rather more guardedly composed now as she hands one over to the veteran.
Echo: I thought you could use this if you’ve been in the gym. You need to keep hydrated for that strain to heal quickly.
She breaks the seal on hers as Alicia takes the bottle. Alicia stretches, and stands up.
Alicia: Thanks… I’ve cluttered your locker room up long enough, but…
She pauses for a second.
Alicia: …I never did thank you for the help you gave me in training for my match. I could have ended up in a terrible state without your guidance.
Echo doesn’t seem to know what to do for a moment, and then has the grace to redden slightly; she gestures as if brushing it aside. Alicia wonders if Echo is the type who finds it hard to accept praise a lot of the time.
Echo: It’s nothing, you’re the one who had the guts to get into that match in the first place. Just don’t go overworking that arm until it’s properly rested, or the power in it won’t come back properly. Try to, uh, keep exercising in moderation, somewhere between overwork and letting it atrophy.
Alicia: I’ll remember that. Thanks again, Ayres-
Echo’s muscles notably stiffen, though she tries to hide it, and her eyes shoot wide open, clearly on something resembling "alert mode".
Echo: ……….I didn’t think I’d-
A dulcet voice from the sofa cuts her off.
Joachim: We were talking just now, and I let your name slip. It’s not as if it’s on the official secrets register, my dear.
Alicia gives Joachim a questioning look; in response he simply returns her gaze, and Alicia decides to take the “Get out of jail” card offered to her as Echo looks from one to the other.
Echo: No...
A second passes, and Echo finally relaxes, muscles resuming their normal level of tension and gaze once again low-key.
Echo: ...No, I suppose not. Well, OK then. I’ll see you later.
Alicia: That you will. Later… both of you.
She exits, and Echo pauses for a moment. As she turns back, she looks at Joachim for a second. She catches something in his expression which she has not seen for a long time, and an entirely new emotion raises its head ever so briefly; too briefly perhaps for anyone to identify it, or even for the astute Joachim to note.
Like so many other things, she submerges it, before closing the door.
Fade.
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:40:52 GMT -5
Segment: “And the War Begins ...” Credit: FSX & T-Kiss
[As we return from a commercial break, we see Thunderkiss sitting in the middle of the ring on his newly constructed throne. It is a huge chair, gold in color with two skulls at the end of the armrests. The back of the chair goes up far above TK’s head to a sharp point where his initials, plated in gold, reside. The only thing bigger than this chair is his ego, which doesn’t take long to show itself.]
Thunderkiss: FALLEN SOULS... YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED!
[The crowd is silent as they watch FSX walk to the ring. There is no music, no grand entrance as he takes each anger filled step to the ring. As he climbs up the steps, TK keeps a watchful eye on him. FSX returns the glare, and if looks could kill, both men would be dead right now.]
Thunderkiss: Lets not waste time Mr. X². You know why you have been summoned. Show me the proper respect; the proper respect that was LACKING at Heatwave!
FSX: ...Honestly?! I mean...seriously? You owe me so much damn...but I need to....and I...fine. Anything to end this ridiculous shit.
Thunderkiss: Good.... now - KNEEEEEEEL!
[Fallen Souls starts to lower his body into a kneeling position. Thunderkiss lifts his face up to show he is a humble and fair man - but that turns out to be a BIG mistake! With his eyes off of him, he completely misses FSX rise back up and spit directly into his face! His reaction is priceless as he puts a hand to his face and realizes what the wet substance is for loses complete control within microseconds.]
Thunderkiss: !
FSX: Is this HONESTLY surprising whatsoever?! Seriously, why the fuck would I bow to such a roided egomaniac?! Really, what I DON'T understand here is how some guy who lost his big chance suddenly has a cult following! Seriously! What did you, collect the many fans who got smacked across the face with a shovel when they were a kid?!
[Fallen turns to a group that's quite vocal at the moment regarding what he's saying, and simply shakes his head.]
FSX: Has the world gone fucking insane?! THIS IS MADNESS!!! THIS IS NOT FUCKING SPAR-TAH, EITHER!!!! This is EXACTLY what's wrong with the next generation of kids. They grow up watching idiots get worshiped by those slightly less charismatic. All I can say is your mother must of been an alcoholic, 'WorldBreaker', because there--
[It appears Thunderkiss has had enough, as he leaps off of his “throne” and turns FSX inside out with a WICKED Goodnight Kiss! The hit knocks FSX clean out and he is now laying prone on the mat. Thunderkiss places his boot in front of him and then raises both arms in the air - leaving all onlookers with the impression that FSX grovels at his shoes. When he is finished with this Kodak moment, Thunderkiss reaches down and grabs FSX’s microphone ...]
Thunderkiss: Let this be an example - an example to all those who challenge the will of the WORLDBREAKER!
Crowd *chanting: WORLDBREAKER! WORLDBREAKER! WORLDBREAKER!
Thunderkiss: Now I put FSX’s fate in YOUR hands, the people’s hands! THY WILL BE DONE!
[Thunderkiss cuffs his ear and listens to the crowd.]
Random Fan 1: Finish Him!
Random Fan 2: Destroy him Worldbreaker! Destroy him!
Random Fan 3: Pay Child Support Worldbreaker!
[Please, TK un-cuffs his ear and walks away from the crowd.]
Thunderkiss: The people have spoken!
[Thunderkiss reaches down and grabs FSX up by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. It doesn’t take long for the big hands of TK to clutch onto Fallen Soul’s body in an effort to lift him high up ... high up to heaven!]
“Fast” Eddie Edison: First a Goodnight Kiss and now a Heaven’s Door? How much damage can Fallen Souls body withstand?!
[Suddenly a rise comes from the crowd.]
Maxwell McNally: Well there is one man who doesn’t want to wait around to find out! IT’S THE SENATOR!
[Thunderkiss watches The Senator slide into the ring in front of him after his sprint down the isle. He now has one of two choices:
1. Drop FSX into the canvas, but leaving him open for a Phillips attack, thus likely to be struck with a Partisan Kick, and roll over and die.
OR
2. Throw FSX directly into the Senator, lessening the impact but allowing him time to escape.
Thunderkiss chooses the later and sends Fallen Souls crashing into Phillip’s chest. The Senator gets his hands up grabs FSX, but his momentum takes both men down to the mat. TK leaps over the top rope on the opposite side of the ring and begins to quickly make his way up the ramp way free of the ringside area.]
Thunderkiss *shouting*: Now YOU will pay for his sins Phillips!
[Phillips says nothing for his expression says it all - a scowl falls across his face that has been put there and has remained there all thanks to the man he is looking at this very moment. TK has tried to destroy him and his stable for months now, and he finally may be succeeding. With the loss of Snake how on Earth can the Stable withstand the upcoming Entourage onslaught? His mind ponders this question as he tends to one of his last remaining men in the ring.]
[FADE]
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:41:18 GMT -5
Segment: Interview With… (Credit: ) (Pre-Recorded) Scene: ACW themed backdrop with a couple of interview chairs. In the first chair is interviewer Kevin Anderson, loosely looking through some notes. In the other chair, is a figure that has been cloaked in shadows. Face hidden by the lack of light, and ready for questioning.Kevin: Hello ACW, this is Kevin “The Scoop” Anderson back again with another ground breaking interview. My guest today has chosen to remain anonymous, and told me I will be getting the exclusive interview due to my exceedingly excellent skills. : Ahem, I said no such thing, you arrogant bastard. Now, let’s get this interview underway. Kevin is momentarily disheveled by the comment, then scoffs it off.Kevin: Right. First off, why did you request this interview? Why have I been told to take time out of MY day to interview you? : Why did you? Because its your job dumbass, it’s a paycheck. I would have taken either you or King… Hell, even Gary. To answer your question, I am here to speak on my upcoming return match to ACW. My match against Yoko Satoshi. Oh what, did our little interviewer friend forget to tell you who I was? That of no importance as of this moment, what I can tell you is I am the person who will face Yoko in the first round of this years Emperor of the Ring. Kevin: And why have you chosen to remain anonymous? : It’s simple Kevin. I want to create a buzz, something to keep people talking, a story to tell at the water cooler tomorrow morning. Kevin: Or maybe you’re afraid the public will reject you. : Now Kevin, I can guarantee to you that will not be the case. Kevin: I have also been told that you requested to be against Yoko in the first round. You must be one confident sonuvabitch or a stupid one. : This is true; I went to our chairman and requested to be against Yoko. No it’s not because I’m confident OR stupid. I was looking through the wrestlers who have signed up, and decided that Yoko was my best choice to make an impact. Of course, she and I have history as well. Kevin: Really, what more can you tell us about that? : Look buddy, I know that you are paid to be an interviewer, but the history between her and I is of no concern to you. However, the ACW faithful will be well versed in it. Kevin: Who’s the arrogant bastard now? Pause.: Touche. On that, a cell phone ring tone is heard. The interviewee reaches into his pocket.: Give me a second Kevin. Kevin goes to speak, but if quickly stifled when the voice continues.: (Into the phone) Who's this? Muffled voices can be heard from the phone: Oh right, sorry man. Still not used to your number being in my phone again. ...: Anyways, bro, I have to be going. I'm doing an interview with Kevin. ...: Yah, Anderson. ... Yah, he is a real arrogant asshat. Anyways, D-Man, I have to going. Talk to you before my match. With that, the sound of the cellphone snapping shut it heard. Kevin surprisingly didnt react to the asshat comment, and continues with the interview.Kevin: Well, now that you have that out of your system, we can continue on with the interview. I just have a coupl-- : Kevin, shut up. I didnt come here to answer your questions. I came here to send a message. And my message is this. Yoko, come the 10th, I will be back in ACW. I will be in top condition. And I will continue through to the next round in this years Emperor of the Ring. Now Kevin, I must thank you for being a placeholder so I could get this time. Now, you can leave. And Yoko, if you are watching this somewhere, which I know you are, I have one question for you. Come September 10th, the steps into the ACW ring, will they be your last? Silence passes... a few moments. Then, in a swift motion, the interviewee launches off the chair and hits Kevin with a Lariat of monstrous proportions. The interviewer, caught off guard, is knocked out, and the interviewee disappears out the door before the camera can get around to him. The camera slowly fades as it shifts back to Kevin, who begins to stir.
FADE OUT
END SEGMENT
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Post by BK London on Sept 3, 2007 16:41:45 GMT -5
Segment: Step Down or Get Beat Down (Credit: Flamingo)
As the cameras opened up to Adrian Flamingo, he paced back and forth in front of the large ACW banner in the interview area. His steps were slow and their were still hints of a limp from his match with Scott Andrews at Heatwave, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. As the great “Playboy” Buddy Rose taught him, pain is nothing more than a fuel that will take your further than your own determination. To compare it anything else, it was like nitro in a race car. Sure, it sped you up faster than gas, but at the same time it can blow your ass up. Adrian turned to the camera and a smile crept onto his face.
“Emperor of the Ring… bunches of people get together and we fight amongst ourselves until there’s one left. And he shall be the Emperor! And he shall challenge for the title! Heh, it’s very dramatic sounding, isn’t it? I mean, it’s just like the lethal lottery except you don’t have to team with a guy you’ll have to face in the finals. I suppose that’s my one big problem with the professional wrestling industry, everyone’s trying to one-up one another. I mean, this tournament the winner shall be EMPEROR! Problem is, so what? Unless he wins the title, that just makes him the best of all the losers. Another example, if you’ll allow me to go off track, is last week Rattlesnake made a comment about how the biggest shocker of Heatwave wasn’t me breaking BK London’s leg… it was him turning on the Senatorial Stable. Seriously, Snake… you think I purposely broke BK London’s leg to shock the world? Is this what you think of me, ACW? You think I’m some attention starving cretin who cripples people for attention? No, Snake, I didn’t break London’s leg for attention… I broke it because it needed to be done. At first, yes, it was all about getting the world‘s attention… but when I stood on that turnbuckle and all I could see was how easy it would be to put him on the shelf, well, the world made sense to me all of a sudden. You see, fans, this world is a cold, heartless place where you can‘t really depend on your friends or your family to have your back when you need them. All you can depend on is yourself and all you can do is destroy anyone who stands between you and true freedom. BK London stood in the way of my freedom… so I made sure he couldn‘t stand at all. Without anyone standing in front of me, my potential is eternal and my goals are all attainable. Thing is, do I want to attain the surname of Emperor?”
Adrian giggled to himself for a second and pushed his blond hair out of his eyes. It was true, all of it. Without the likes of BK London and Scott Andrews standing in front of him, Adrian’s place in the history of wrestling was eternal and never-ending if need be. It was funny, last week he was too stunned to realize anything, but then it hit him like a beacon from God when his hand was raised last week. Adrian Flamingo could be a God in this business if he wanted. The glory was all his for the taking now that his eyes were finally opened to the truths of the world.
“Well, let’s see if I win it, then you’ll know. I didn’t want to win the Lethal Lottery and look what happened, I didn’t. Of course that meant my makeshift partner, Ricky Falco… n, had to take the fall, but hey, if he wanted to win, he would’ve. No worries though, Ricky, now you have your shot at revenge… but do you really want it? I crippled a man after destroying another in a dog collar match all in one night. Ever since I shed my “astonishing”, I’ve been intangible in the ring. You, well, you’ve had some successes to. You’re the Entertainment title, a belt I should’ve held a long time ago, but hey, I must not have really wanted it. Well, Ricky, at almost every opportunity you’ve brought my name up for the reason why you failed to win the Lethal Lottery, so now you’re going to have your chance to avenge that loss. Can you handle it, Ricky? Do you really want it, Ricky? Or are you scared? I wouldn’t blame you for being scared, Ricky, I would be too. I was scared when my debut match with Kudo ended in me getting my head almost taken off with a knee. I was scared when Nick Durden put me in an ice coffin match. I don’t blame or chastise you for being scared, Ricky. I’ll be honest, though, kid. I’m going to put you through hell. I’m going to stretch your limbs out until I hear your ligaments pop, I’m going to crush your ribs with my boots, knees, and elbows, I’m going to drop you on your head with every possible move I can think of… well, I’m going to do everything that I can to make you suffer. Why? I’m doing this for you, Ricky. They say what doesn’t kill us will make us stronger and Ricky Falcon, tonight, I’m going to make you invincible.”
Adrian laughed to himself and walked off of the camera. Would his match with Ricky Falcon be a blood bath, or does Adrian want it enough?
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