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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:03:46 GMT -5
Segment: The future, is now (and Panthery) (Credit: The Red Panther)
Maxwell: So far Meltdown has been great, and my monitor is telling me that we have an old-school in ring talk by The Red Panther.
As Maxwell says this, "The thing that should not be" starts booming out the speakers. The Red Panther walks out onto the stage wearing his ring attire ahead of his match. He struts to the ring as the arena rings with boos from the crowd, holding a microphone. Panther walks to a fan standing right next to the ramp, close enough that he can jump onto the ramp. The young fan has a "Panther sucks" sign, which Panther yanks out of his hands. The fan protests as Panther rips the sign in half and throws it into his face.
Edison: Panther just ruined the show for some poor fan.
Maxwell: Panther isn't renown for being nice, remember his trouble with Shane Anzalone last week? And the hold he kept on Markus Rogers after the match?
Panther enters the ring through the steps and walks to the middle of the ring. He runs a hand under his nose, breathes deep and then-
Panther: SHUT UP!
The booing fans are silenced by Panthers yelling.
Panther: Now last Warfare, Shane Anzalone refused to apologies for pushing me, but more importantly denied my true title. For those numbskull's who don't remember, we have a clip.
The Alphatron rolls into action:
Panther: Nice prediction Shane, I beat that guy like an annoying step-child! And later tonight I am going to beat down two people, twice the fun! And you ain't even on the card. I think the true future of ACW would be on the card tonight. Have fun signing auto-graghs to these fags. I mean come on, "Panther sucks"? If you're gonna lie, at least be original about it. Here is a better lie: "The Red Panther is not going to beat that asshole Shane Anzalone across the ring all day when they wrestle". At least with that is would be too big for me to rip in half! I mean look at this one: "Marry me Lost Boiz". *Panther points to a sign held by a chubby female*
Now which is more annoying about his? I will start from the top of the list. They are The Lost Boys, you are fat and ugly, The Lost Boys are going to get STOMPED by me and Keith later, or that you spelt boys wrong you freaking retard.
The fans boo Panther, who just laughs.
Panther: Oh no, some morons are booing me. Like I give two shits what the ACW fans think. Whatever you say or do, I still get a massive paycheck in the bank and you will go back to your sad existences.
Maxwell: The fans did not enjoy that verbal torrent.
Panther: I am the future of ACW, if you like it or not. It is true, the gods have not spoken, I have, and my word is as good as any gods.
The thing that should not be plays again as Panther leaves the ring, dodging trash thrown at him from the crowd.
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:04:16 GMT -5
Muscle Part II Tokyo Prefecture Ginza District June 21st, 2009 “I am…not happy.”That heavy feeling one gets on hot summer days. Heaviness and miasma all around your muscles that kisses your earlobe and whispers for sleep. And when you do sleep on those days, it’s an odd shapeless thing where you feel half aware and half dead. As though you were dreaming of sleep itself, but are keenly aware that you are still only dreaming. You don’t feel much like listening to lectures on those heavy days. “…Oh?” Uncle sat on his imported leather chair, back turned for dramatic effect. He was gazing out over his meticulously kept courtyard. He only maintained it because he insisted on convincing visitors that he was old money, not new money, which was a lie. The back wall of the office was built from glass so people could see Uncle sitting in a panorama of feudal beauty, like a puppet in a vivid cardboard stage. It was much better to avoid confessing when one didn’t know exactly what one was being accused of. “Don’t give me any of that. You are fully aware of why you are in my office. Pictures of your little…outing in Shibuya last night have already made front pages news. They’re calling it a gangland execution.”“I call it doing my job.”He wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to speak to him that way. Using perks always gives people a sense of power, especially before a person who could otherwise make you feel powerless. “Your ‘job’ implies keeping this nice and tidy. It implies keeping things efficient. But most importantly, it implies keeping things out of the hands of those sons of bitches in the press!”“I was told to give Do-Hyup a visual example, seeing as he’s been warned before and continued skimming money. Well…I gave him a visual example. It’s just that certain people in the champagne room decided they had something to say. I made them see my point of view on the subject.”It was bullshit, plain as day. But there was no use. No amount of repentance would have removed the pictures. The truth was that there was no stopping it once it had started. Having some tough-guy punk talk trash can get you mad in certain ways. But it was after they took that first hit…when you saw that unintentionally pleading look in their eyes that signaled ‘I’ve had enough’… …that was when you wanted to hit them more. It was just like a pet that had done something bad, and looked at you with those wide, infant eyes that begged to be disciplined. Hitting submissive animals is what fulfills their nature. It’s what makes them who they are. And when you finally do it, it feels like you are fulfilling god’s will. “You ‘made them see your point of view’? Look here.”He threw the morning’s copy of the Ashai Shimbun newspaper onto his hand carved desk. “It says that one of them men was curb-stomped while being forced to bite down on a metal barstool. Another had his face grated against the edge of the bar itself, down to the cheekbone. Still another was force-fed the bullets from his own gun. They found nine slugs in his stomach, along with several teeth. He claims he was made to chew first, and then swallow. Apparently, the paper couldn’t even print what you did to Do-Hyup himself because the censors were made physically sick by it. Now I you may call that ‘making them see your point of view’. But do you know what I call it?”“No”…yes. “I call it a media nightmare! Now, what do you propose we do about this? Hmm?! I may have some cops in my pocket, but with the kind of publicity this case is receiving, even the police will be forced into action to avoid a public outcry. There are rumors that the federal government itself is going to use this opportunity to launch another crackdown to secure the ‘law and order’ vote.”It was supposed to be a rhetorical question. Sometimes we choose to answer anyway, and learn that the question is far from rhetorical. “I suppose we’ll do what it is we always do.”“And what is it we always do?”Suddenly, Uncle’s intentions were not so clear. He intended to try something different this time, and he wanted that to be known. Something that, he assumed, would be disliked…as all good punishments should be. “I go underground. Lay low. Avoid the gaming district and only take low-profile work, if any. Wait a couple of months for the heat to die down, and go back to my job when the dust clears. That’s pretty standard operating procedure. “ A wry, tight-lipped smile spread over Uncle’s mouth. It was the smile of a man who knew exactly in which direction the conversation was about to go, and thought it was a good one. “Oh you’ll be going underground…but not here. I’m not letting you just loaf around the grounds this time doing busy work. The problem as I see it…is that you’re a ‘thing’. An animal. Something that has fallen quite short of a human man. You are a physical creature, Kaoru. And physical creatures constantly need physical activity. Do you remember your cousin, the rugby player?”“…sure…”“Do you remember how many fights he started after his last season on the school’s Rugby team had ended in his senior year? "Suddenly, a cold and curious sweat leaking into the cotton fibers of an undershirt. Something was very plainly wrong. The words sound very apprehensive as they come out. “…sure. I remember. But what does any of this have to do with…?”“Well that’s just it. After we sent him off to the army, he came back and didn’t start any fights. He was a physical creature who had gotten a chance to expend his energy into proper channels. And that is exactly what you are going to do. You are going to throw that enormous bulk of yours into a channel that is financially useful for me and for the firm.”He was still pussyfooting around the subject. He wanted to see fear and uncertainty. Whether or not he was getting those things couldn’t be said for certain “Have you ever considered purofesshonaru resuringu?”..and that was it. But it still made no sense. “You want me to be in…puroresu? Like AJPW and NJPW? How in the world does appearing on a nationally televised program help me to keep a low profile?”The smile on his face widened for the coup de grace. “No. You aren’t going to any Japanese promotion. That would be stupid and counterproductive. I have something a bit…farther in mind. A small promotion thus far, with room for aggressive expansion. In other words, a good investment. Tell me….what do you think of Los Angeles?”Fade
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:04:33 GMT -5
Segment: Tag Team Triathlon - Round 3: Bobbing for Apples. (Credit: Jay Zero and BK London) We open up to the actual ringside area of the arena now for our third contest of the Tag Team Triathlon of the night. Set up alongside the stage on the floor below are two miniature blow up pools, filled with water. We can also see two apples in each of the pools. The bell sounds and Philip Jones takes charge to announce the match. Ding Ding Ding Philip Jones[/color]: Ladies and gentlemen - the following contest is the third round of the Tag Team Triathlon to determine which team will earn the fall for the fourth match in our Best-of-Five series! "Crack A Bottle Instrumental" hits and the crowd seems to be warming up to Jay Zero giving him a bit more of a positive reaction than lately. He walks out onto the stage, ready to make up for that embarrassing effort in the three-legged race. He walks to the left side of the stage and descends down the steel steps to the floor below where Referee Jacob Jones is also officiating this last round. Philip Jones[/color]: First! From Portland, Maine! Weighing in at 215 pounds! He is an ACW Grand Slam Champion! The Perfect Ten! JAAAAAY! ZEEEROOOO! He nods his head and raises an arm in which instructs the crowd nearby to cheer. His music now begins to fade as his partner makes his entrance.
"Amazing" by Kanye West powers through the PA system and the former heavyweight champion comes out to a huge positive pop. He makes his way out onto the stage smiling as he looks out at all of his fans. Phillip Jones: And his partner, weighing in at 230 pounds from Brooklyn, New York! He is also an ACW Grand Slam Champion! He is - BK LONDOOOON! BK sees now where he's being instructed to go, and he walks towards the side of the stage, quickly jogging down the stairs to meet up with his partner Jay Zero as they begin to wait for their opponents, The Capitalists.Phillip: And their opponents, at a combined weight of 440 pounds! They are currently leading the Series 2-1! They are! THE CAAAPITALISTS! "Hail the Chief" pumps through the arena, and the crowd immediately gives them tons of heat. Anthony Kalb and Kevin Fitsharris step out onto the stage, paying no mind to the crowd as they make their way towards the pools.Maxwell McNally[/b]: Now Eddie - tonight, we've seen the egg toss! 'Fast' Eddie Edison[/b]: Yeah, and that smart thinking of Jay Zero helped his team pick up the "W" Maxwell McNally[/b]: ...We've seen the three legged race! 'Fast' Eddie Edison[/b]: Which didn't go good for BK and Zero at all! Maxwell McNally[/b]: -- And now this brings us to the bobbing for apples contest! Whichever team can pull this off will win the 4th match in the Best-of-Five series! The music of The Capitalists dies down as all four men have made their way towards the pools - now this brings us to Referee Jacob Jones who is now instructing the men what to expect.Referee Jacob Jones: Alright! The triathlon is tied 1-1, so this contest will declare the winner! If Capitalists win, they are awarded the ACW Tag Team Titles - if BK London and Jay Z-- Jay Zero: Jay Zero and BK London. [/b] Jones looks at Zero a bit confused.Referee Jacob Jones: Excuse me? Jay Zero: Hm? Oh - nothing, go, continue.. [/b] Referee Jacob Jones: Anyways. If BK London and Jay Zero win... Jay Zero: Ugh. [/b] Referee Jacob Jones: ...then the series will now be tied at 2-2! So gentlemen, I wish both teams the best of luck, and this is what you must do! We have two pools set up with two apples within each! We will blindfold one participant from each team and then proceed to spin you around to get the blood in the head flowing! Next, with your partners assistance, he must guide you to the pool where you must then bob for the apples! The first team that is able to reach the pool and retrieve both apples will be declared the winner! Now backstage, we've randomly selected which partner will be blindfolded. So Kevin Fitsharris and Jay Zero, you must wear these blindfolds throughout the entire contest! BK London: Haha! Jay Zero: Shut up. [/b] Zero snatches the blindfold and puts it in, and Kevin does the same.Anthony Kalb: We got this Kevin. Just like last time, just listen to me and we'll win this easy as cake. These two can't work together! BK turns to Jay who is now being set up where the crew workers will spin them around.BK London: Alright, just listen to me and we got this. Jay Zero: Oh what? Like that race? [/b] BK London: Not exactly! Jay Zero: Yeah cause if you send me walking straight into that stage I'm going to kick your damn ass senseless! [/b] BK London: Just trust me! Both Kevin Fitsharris and Jay Zero are ready, so this is ready to begin.Referee Jacob Jones: Once both men have been spun around ten times, this contest will become official! Start spinning! The workers quickly spin the men around and around - and around. They keep going and going, eventually to the point where they stumble like drunks! They hit the tenth spin, and we're ready to go!Referee Jacob Jones: Here we go! The crew lets go of the men, both of which are now facing the wrong direction of the pools and quickly begin stumbling off.Anthony Kalb: Kevin! KEVIN! BK London: Zero turn around! Jay Zero: What? [/b] BK London: You're going the wrong way! Turn around! Turn! Maxwell McNally[/b]: And we're off! ad so far, both of these men have no clue what's going on! Zero stumbles and nearly falls as he tries to spin around.BK London: Keep gonig! No - stop! Stop! Ok, go straight! Follow my voice! Anthony Kalb: Kevin, you're going the wrong way! The pools that way! He points.Kevin Fitsharris: What way?! This way? Anthony Kalb: No! THAT way! He points again, before realizing he's blindfolded. Anthony Kalb: Kevin! Watch ou-- *CRASH* Kevin runs straight into a wooden table with many little accessories piled up on it. He falls over and Kalb starts screaming to try and help him. Meanwhile, Jay Zero and BK London are doing a good job of working together, surprisingly.BK London: Come on! Come on! Keep following my voice! Let's go! Jay Zero: Shut up, I'm going! [/b] BK London: Well hurry it up! Zero keeps walking while throwing his arms around, trying to feel around for the pool. Anthony Kalb: Dear god Kevin! Get up! GET UP! BK London: Stop! You're there! You're right there Zero! Quick! Get the apples! Go! Go! Go! Zero gingerly lowers himself to feel around for the pool, making sure this isn't some cruel joke by BK where he's now on the edge of some massive hole. But wait! That's no hole, that's water! Holy shit! Zero quickly shoves his face in, trying to find the apples. Meanwhile, Kevin Fitsharris is up and the Capitalists are trying to get back in the game.Anthony Kalb: Come on Kevin! This way! This way! Follow my voice! The pool's over here! BK London: Hurry up Jay! Let's go! Come on! Hurry! Hurry! You need to go faster! Go! You're too slow! This is too slow if you want to win! Come on! Kevin stumbles towards his pool thanks to the help of his partner.Anthony Kalb: Right there! There! Yes! Yes, quick, go, go, go! BK London: They're catching up! Go Zero! My god! We're going to lose because of you! Just then, Zero pops his head up, with an apple in his mouth! Referee Jacob Jones acknowledges it and Zero holds it down in his hand.Referee Jacob Jones: One apple for BK and Zero! Anthony Kalb: Hurry Kevin! BK London: Yes! Let's go Zero! Quick! Quick! Get it! You're too slow! You need to go faster! 'Fast' Eddie Edison[/b]: Wow, BK's a bit... overbearing right now. He must really want to win! BK London: Hurry up Zero! He's had enough. Zero stands up and turns around, getting the apple in his palm before just launching it at where he thinks BK may be standing! BK ducks and the apple goes flying before Zero shakes his head.Jay Zero: Shut the hell up! I'm going as fast as I can![/b] Anthony Kalb: Quick Kevin! They're arguing! Go! Go! BK London: You son of a... Suddenly, BK charges at Zero who has no clue what's going on! He grabs Zero by the head and slams his face down into the pool! He's drowning his own partner and the crowd starts laughing! As Zero shakes his head trying to go free, Kalb is starting to believe his team can make their move, but Kevin can't seem to find any apples.Anthony Kalb: Hurry! As BK let's go of Zero, his head quickly raises up out of the water as he gasps for air... but... what's in his mouth?!Referee Jacob Jones: There! There, it's over! Ring the bell! Anthony Kalb: What the-- Maxwell McNally[/b]: Jay Zero has got the second apple! They've done it! That attack by BK London helped Jay Zero find the second apple, and this one's over! Zero grabs apples and rips off his blindfold, turning around towards BK London.Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding! BK London: ...did we just win? Jay Zero: ....did YOU just try to drown me?! [/b] Kalb can't believe it! As the bell sounds, Kevin Fitsharris pulls his head up and takes off the blindfold, looking to see what's happening. Anthony Kalb: What is this bull!? BK shoved him in! He probably just put the damn apple in his mouth! Referee Jacob Jones: I did say with the assistance of your partner! It's over! Philip Jones[/color]: Ladies and gentlemen, your winners of the Apple Bobbing contest AND the Tag Team Triathlon by a 2-1 lead! The team of JAY ZERO! and BK LONDON! Jay Zero: I can't believe you just did that to me! [/b] BK London: Err, who cares! We won, didn't we?! Jay Zero: So! You just shov--[/b] Kevin Fitsharris: This is bullcrap! I demand a recount! Look at those two idiots! Zero stops mid sentence as he hears Kevin and Anthony complaining to Referee Jacob Jones.Anthony Kalb: They can't even function correctly as a team! I demand you declare us the winners! At least we'd do something with those titles! Jay Zero: ...screw it. I'm over it. I got a better idea right now. [/b] The two continue to yell at the referee as they have their backs turned to BK London and Jay Zero who now begin to creep up behind them. Referee Jones sees this and quickly moves out of the way - just in time as Jay Zero grabs Kevin by his head and belt, and BK grabs Kalb - throwing both of them into each of the pools as the crowd goes crazy! The two laugh as the embarrassment of their opponents who are now dripping wet as "Crack a Bottle Instrumental" begins to play loudly, celebrating the win for BK London and Jay Zero. The two look towards each and smile after what they've just done. After all of this - these two are starting to somewhat look like a team. After all, they've begun a 2-0 comeback, now tying the series at 2-2. At Seven Deadly Sins, these two tag teams will clash for one last time - but this time, there WILL be new champions! Guaranteed.
The scene fades out.
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:05:09 GMT -5
Muscle Part III GlobEx Airlines Flight 392 En Route: ACW Front Office July 21, 2009 Credit: Kaoru Hanayama
Jet engines hummed methodically over the sound of uncomfortable fidgeting and silent conversation. A sort of industrial lullaby, interrupted only by the occasional screaming child and pilot announcement, that let people know everything was as it should have been. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking, errr----we are currently cruising at thirty-nine thousand feet and…” People needed the reassurance, because the reality of flying was terrifying. Trapped in a hurtling metal box going at six hundred miles per hour, preparing to belly down against a concrete runway like a child diving into a pool? That was no way to fly. People craved the reassurance. The needed the engine to whir and whisper silently, and the faceless man a few rows up to give a cough. They needed to look out of their windows and see the clouds not whipping by like they would at lower altitudes, but floating lazily along like the backs of titanic, dizzy sheep. No one wanted to imagine that they were in a screaming meteor, working up the courage to leave a crater. That was no way to be. Those who were still awake perked up their necks in a hungry, pet-like anticipation. The stewardess was making her rounds again; young, full lips, and graceful enough to veer the cart damn close to the passenger seats without smashing against them. She was polite too, but it had been that professional kind of politeness that spurted forth and evaporated into the air just as quickly, like it had come out of a platinum-blonde aerosol can. “Hi there…can I get you anything? Hot towel?”The last thing that the Saints of Los Angeles promotion had been good for was a first class flight, complete with hot towel service and open bar. It was a quaint little cabin, separated from the other (less fortunate) passengers by a velvety blue curtain that swung temptingly each time an attendant walked through it, allowing the cheaper section to see exactly what they were missing. Which was: a collection of preposterously overdone navy-blue pinstripe chairs, matching honey-colored pillow sets on said overdone chairs, a large wooden bar cutting the cabin in half (complete with all sorts of buttons and outlets), and all the Dom Perignon you could drink. Which was: a collection of various passengers, all with the same look of smug satisfaction that you would find on an apathetic cat, and all looking more or less like they belonged under the imperial order of “First Class”. “No. Just the newspaper.” Which was: the one thing that did not look like it belonged in the cabin. The stewardess was parked in the far right corner, just before the long, artificial hallway that led to the other sections. There, sat a colossal physique; the literal elephant in the room, crammed into a gauche first-class armchair that looked far too small. If someone had snapped a picture at just that moment, he would have been the conspicuous smear that drew attention away from the vacationing couple in the family photo. The oddity. The standout. The glitch. “Which paper would you like, sir?” “The Los Angeles Times.” “No problem. I’ll just get that for you.”She walked away, her hips struggling to escape the ankle length skirt that held them in, only to swagger back minutes later with a rolled up newspaper in hand. “Let me know if you need anything else.”Porky fingers wrapped around the thick wad of paper, and opened the folds deliberately, as if they were holding fine china and were afraid to break it in a moment of clumsy strength. Buried somewhere beneath the running, messy ink that newspapers had come to be hated for, was the headline “Saints of Los Angeles Wrestling Promotion Closes Down.” Like all other tragic falls in history, it was a headline meant to inspire…something. Maybe a little irritation that such a potentially good investment had gone down the tubes. Maybe an angry spit onto the ground at the fact that you would now be unemployed. And maybe somewhere, it inspired a feeling of sad finality for a man whose revenge on the wrestling world had become the final thing to turn him away from it for good. But none of that mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the number two. Two matches. Two wins. Two beautiful displays of destructive elegance. And then, it had stopped. It was like a congratulatory letter that had been mailed by mistake, leaving you with nothing but aftertaste. Food snatched from the plate. Money taken from the wallet. There needed to be more. More of whatever the brain tells us is that tickling self-assurance that makes us so happy. Winning in a wrestling ring was the future smoker’s first drag and the future alcoholic’s first sip. All of the dead skin that passed for fun before that very moment falls unnoticeably to the ground, leaving only the habit. It was what you wanted to do when you went out. It was what you wished you were doing when you stayed in. Everything before then just seems naïve and childish. Not fun. Not really. Not anymore. And for all you knew, maybe it never was. “Excuse me, sir?”
The stewardess had come back with another tray, this one holding plates that were letting off a delicious steam into the cabin air. “Lunch is served.”She reached over and slid a plate in front of the behemoth form. It was some sort of welding job between steak, asparagus, and mashed potatoes, but it was impossible to tell where any one of the three things ended or began. Their juices had flown together and combined them into one nameless, but still appetizing dish. Watching a petite, trim stewardess present food (of all things) in front of a hulking man must have been hilarious, because a few snickers began smoldering inside the undertow of cabin noise. Closer to the cabin’s center, a little boy whispered in awe. “Mommy…look! Look at that huge man! Isn’t he big? Isn’t h—“He was promptly shushed by someone, presumably the mother, just in time for the massive fingers to wrap themselves awkwardly around fork and knife. The leviathan shape ate with an awkward restraint, as though it was keenly aware that people expected a man of size to have a ravenous appetite. The food slid down, both hearty and unsatisfying. There was no pleasure in eating. No gourmand’s affection in any of the bites. It was performed as a slow, deliberate, mechanical function made to strengthen to body. Food was not meant to give a man pleasure. Neither was sleep. Not fun. Not really. Not anymore. And it hadn’t been in a long time. “Psh…wonder if that’s enough for him---“
It only took a whisper. A whisper that wasn’t meant to be heard by anyone except a friend close-by. Or maybe it was just one of those phrases you said to yourself to make you laugh. But there was a mistake. The phrase had lost all innocence before it ever left the two lips that sent it into the wind. It was too loud. The oddity. The standout. The glitch. “You.”The culprit was a sandy-haired man with blue eyes and a grey suit that didn’t look too old or too new. He might have been going on a business trip, or just visiting family, or flying off to see some mistress that was kept on the opposite coast. He could have been anything, but he was one thing for sure. He was the man that had given birth to the orphan whisper. Turning around, the maybe-salesman-maybe-philanderer was met with something that made him tip forward ever so slightly, like a knife-wound to the stomach. Two eyes. Two terrifying eyes. “—oh…Uh…s-shit man, I didn’t know you he—““Go to the bathroom.”“---…what?”The words were repeated one by one, each getting its own emphasis for effect. “Go. To. The. Bathroom.” “But I don’t have to go.”“It’s okay. Just…to talk. I want to talk to you about something. I’m very…sensitive. About my weight. I feel self-conscious talking about it in the cabin…in front of people.”
It was a confusing proposition, but it was impossible to detect insincerity in the perfectly-narrow oriental eyes that had locked on to the maybe-salesman like cold fingers. Slowly, and not without a noticeable shaking in his knees, the man got up from his poorly-designed blue pinstriped armchair, and trudged uncertainly down the cabin in the direction of the bathroom. Slowly, the gargantuan bulk heaved itself up and began to take heavy steps behind him. Finally, they were before the door of the unoccupied group bathrooms (another perk of first class). Standing underneath a looming shadow, the man turned slowly around to face the mountain behind him. “So what did you want to talk ab---“He had hardly finished the sentence, when, in a moment of deft coordination between both hands and feet, the colossus shoved him into the bathroom and closed the door behind them. No one heard any noise from beyond the bathroom door. Not even when the screams echoed and ricocheted around the toilet bowl. Not even when the fingernails grated on the walls, followed by pleas of mercy, followed by praying. The presence of multiple bathrooms made it unnecessary for anyone to check, and no one really wanted to in particular. People needed the reassurance, and they needed it because the reality of flying was terrifying. But in the end, it was still the reality. A meteor streaking to its destination, and hoping to leave a crater when it got there. It was only after the plane had landed and the next flight had boarded, that one of the stewardesses noticed blood beneath the bathroom door. -FADE-
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:05:28 GMT -5
Segment: Quantum of Uncertainty (Credit: AK)
Thursday 23rd July, 11.15am
??: One banana, two banana, three banana, four...
There are few things which a majority of women of a certain age enjoy more than playing with an adorable child. Especially if they can then hand it back to its parents, and leave all the actual business of childcare to them.
Charlotte King is allowing herself to briefly engage in this minor fantasy, counting her temporary charge’s tiny fingers in a sing-song voice. Helena Laureano may not care much for the literary standard of the rhyme, but at this close range she can at least focus on the new face in front of her. She stares at Charlotte in a manner which in anyone older would be unnerving, or even downright psychopathic. Charlotte, of course, totally fails to interpret this as such, and continues cooing, noticing how quickly the youngster is gaining weight.
Alicia Laureano adjusts the hanging mobile above Riccardo in his pushchair, allowing him to grip the various shapes and textures. The spherical toy seems to be a persistent favourite of his, and Alicia wonders if most boys begin with such a fascination before moving on to football and other similar ball sports.
She and Charlotte are making the most of the good weather, making time in their respectively busy lives to catch up with one another. Their chat is predictable; however, as she sits down, Alicia cannot shake the feeling that there is one topic Charlotte seems to want to discuss, but is unwilling to initiate. Her own first instinct is to stay well clear, but reasoned judgement overrules this. Alicia decides to approach from a certain angle.
Alicia: So... any news on Dave’s condition?
Charlotte almost jumps a little, as if not expecting such a question. But she quickly composes herself.
Charlotte: He’s stable, or so I hear. Very little change in the past week. His brother’s been visiting regularly, and I think Ginger was going to drop by this afternoon.
Alicia: Ginger’s taking a personal interest, then?
Charlotte: Very much so. He’s got to make a decision about the International Title, and of course Dave’s attacker hasn’t been identified. There’s been no new leads on that, either.
Alicia nods, and can sense that Charlotte is deliberately trying not to look at her, whilst simultaneously behaving as if nothing’s wrong. She sighs.
Alicia: Forgive me, Charlie, but as a good friend of mine for years now.... “innocent ‘til proven guilty” is the assumption, right?
Charlotte flushes, and realises that she can’t dance around the topic.
Charlotte: Outside of the local peculiarities of wrestling, maybe. I’ve got to be honest with you, Ali, at the moment, no other explanation seems plausible. And I sure as hell wouldn’t blame you for wanting to shut Dave up, what he said to you was totally unacceptable-
Alicia: - which would make it ok if I put the guy in a coma, would it?
There is raw emotion in her tone. She quickly modifies it, mindful of not distressing her young ones, but it remains present, almost brooding.
Alicia: I can’t lie... if I wanted to take someone out, I could do it. I’m well aware that I have a sparse but powerful track record in specific situations.
Charlotte: Yeah, you certainly do.
Alicia: Everything you’ve said makes perfect sense, Charlie. The only problem with it is that I never even saw Dave again after our confrontation in the ring. I was nowhere near him... but I can’t prove it.
She shakes her head. Charlotte reads from her body language that she is living this emotion whole-heartedly. It’s always been both her greatest asset, and a curse. And now, Charlotte wonders if Alicia is employing it, either consciously or unconsciously, to cover up an unpalatable truth.
Alicia: Everyone seems to be staring in my direction, expecting me to exonerate myself. Why is it always like this? I can’t ever just walk away gracefully from a situation. People never, ever stop pushing, and I end up having to push back. I didn’t want to end up in that situation with Freeman, I wanted nothing to do with Dave Shadow, and I want nothing whatsoever to do with the damn International Title-
She checks herself, abruptly, but what’s said is said. She glances at Charlotte, who puts all the pieces together in an instant. Alicia looks away.
Alicia: Damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. How very typical of us.
She runs a finger around the circumference of the ornate ring on her right hand. Charlotte notices this, and wonders at its significance; she can’t remember seeing Alicia without it, not for a long time now. She starts to try and figure out when she first saw her with it, but the memory somehow won’t resolve itself, and after a few moments she loses interest. She has more pressing concerns.
Charlotte: I’m not here to sit in judgement on anyone, Ali. And as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing official to report yet on the title. Ginger’s dealing with that this evening.
They look at one another again, and this time Alicia is grateful. She knows how valuable a good scoop, or even a rumor, would be to her friend, so it means a lot to her that their relationship seems to mean more.
Alicia: Then I’ll be sure to tune in. Come on, you’ve got to get to work, and I’ve got to get these little monsters home.
Charlotte brings Helena and places her into the pushchair. Alicia heads forward with a practiced steering motion, in clear control of her family. And herself.
For now.
Fade.
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:05:45 GMT -5
Match 5: Thunder Train vs. Jason Freeman
Gourmet Race blasts out as Thunder Train lumbers toward the ring. Train gets a mixed yet loud reaction as he climbs in the ring. Train roars loud as Ugly starts playing and Freeman makes his way down to the ring. Freeman slides in and stretches as Train backs into his corner.
The match starts with Freeman on top, laying punches and kicks into Train, but not knocking him down. Freeman backs Train into the corner and spends some time on offense, but still can't take him down. Tired of being on defense, Train takes control with one big elbow and a scoop slam. From there it is back and forth, Freeman slamming strikes into Train, and Train throwing Freeman round like a rag doll when he catches him. Train gets a close two with the Full Steam Ahead, but other then that there is little proof that either man is worn down. Tired of being thrown around, Freeman drop kicks Train when Thunder Train is near the ropes, sending him tumbling outside. Freeman then adds insult to injury with a forced face wash, angering Train. At the three count, Train blocks a brain chop and sends Freeman flying into the barricade with a Fury kick. Train tosses Freeman into the ring by the fair and carries on his assault.
Train stays on top for a while, but Freeman gets back in by dodging a spear and locking in a camel clutch. Once Train gets out, Freeman realizes it worked and keeps working around submissions. Freeman gets a cobra clutch crossface hold among other things, but can't keep the big man down. Train blocks a punch and goes after Freeman with a massive flurry, including a discuss elbow, at the end of which Train blows them both up with a giant Mega-wreckage. Both men stay down until the seven count, when Train crawls an arm onto Freeman, but still only gets a two! From there, both men take it slow, not going for anything high risk. Train goes for more advanced moves such as vertical suplexs, but can't capitalize on the damaged Freeman. On the other hand Freeman goes for less damaging moves to get in position for submissions and even a full nelson into a spinning face plant.
Freeman's method of fighting wears Train down enough to stop Trains strong strikes, letting Freeman get in close with chops, knees and kicks. The massive Train knows he has to do something drastic to win, so pushes Freeman down to the floor, backs into the corner and rests. The crowd cheer as Train stalks the rising Freeman. When Jason Freeman gets up, Train runs in, ducks a clothesline and hits Freeman with a double axe handle. The tired Train splashes Freeman and rolls out the ring, looking for something. Train spots somebody and shouts at them. A vendor walks to the front row and gives Train a double cheese burger. Train climbs into the ring, finishes the burger and finds a third wind. Train shakes the ropes and then sits down on Freeman's chest before punching his face in. From then it is all Train, strikes and slams hammer at Freeman. After about a minute of this, Train lifts Freeman up for the Om Nom Bomb, but just before he can execute it, Freeman slides out and as Train turns nails him with a huge Shining Axe kick! Freeman flops on Train to get the three, to the disgust of the crowd.
Winner: Jason Freeman
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:06:04 GMT -5
Segment: Straighten this Out (Credit: Train/Rena)
We open inside of the chairman's office. Gingerdude is sitting behind his desk, sipping some tea or something. Nah, it's probably tea. Anyway, in front of his desk, we see the winded Thunder Train and the beautiful Rena. Train drips with sweat and manliness while Rena looks bored to be there. She feels no need to be in this situation but whatever.
Gingerdude: Alright, now that you are both here we can figure out what's going on here. Rena, why don't you begin?
Thunder Train: Whoa! Why does she get to talk first?
Gingerdude: Ladies first, now Rena...
Rena: *Talk about how you had no idea about this*
Thunder Train: OH COME ON! That's bullshit!
Gingerdude: If you think so Train, explain your side.
Thunder Train: She's just PMSing because I don't want her help! When I went into that locker room, her name was plastered all over the walls! OF COURSE SHE DID IT!
Rena: You know, if it said "Rena" it could mean somebody else. I'm not the only Rena in the world...
Gingerdude: She has a point.
Thunder Train: .....WHY WOULD ANOTHER RENA JUST RANDOMLY COME INTO MY LOCKER ROOM AND TRASH IT?!!?
Rena: Because Train, you are a dick.
Gingerdude: She has a point.
Thunder Train: Goddammit...That doesn't make any sense. You are both crazy! Gingerdude, you have to give me a match with her!
Rena: What?!
Gingerdude: Our agreement was, if you could prove your point, you would have the match. But right now, I'm not seeing any clear evidence that Rena here did any of this.
Thunder Train: WHAT?!?! YOU ARE CRAZY! She did it, for fucks sake!
Gingerdude: You have no proof Train! Graffiti doesn't mean anything. You didn't see her do it, so I can't do anything.
Rena: You know what Gingerdude, give us the match?
Gingerdude: What?
Thunder Train: Yes! Listen to her!
Rena: I'm sick of hearing Train run his mouth off! He keeps looking down on women, so I want the chance to beat his ass.
Thunder Train: Oh, I bet you would want to beat my ass.
Rena: Shut up!
Gingerdude: Fine, if that's what you want, then at Seven Deadly Sins, it will be Thunder Train vs. Rena. Are we all happy now?
Thunder Train: FUCKING YES!
Rena: Yeah.
Gingerdude: Good, now leave.
The two are about to leave when all of the sudden, Train...With Doomtrain back, his begins to lose control a bit. He collapses over onto his knee and holds his stomach. Gingerdude gets up from his desk and looks over to Train. Rena stops as well and looks at Train. What is up with him?
Thunder Train *In his head*: What happened to me having complete control?
Doomtrain: Change of plans. I'm doing this for the better.
Train stands up again and seems fine. He even turns to Gingerdude and smirks.
Gingerdude: What was that?
Thunder Train: What? What are you talking about?
Rena: Why does your voice sound different?
Thunder Train: Shut up bitch!
Train quickly dives over and hooks a right hand across the face of Rena. Rena quickly goes down at the unexpected fist of fury from Train. Train shakes his hand a little bit after the fact. It hurt him a little as well. Gingerdude flips out and goes over to her
Gingerdude: Train, what the hell is wrong with you? I NEED HELP OVER HERE!
Doomtrain: You'll thank me later.
Thunder Train: What? I didn't mean to-- I--
Gingerdude: That's pretty low Train, cheap-shotting a girl like that!
Thunder Train: But, I didn't mean to do it!
Gingerdude: Are you gonna tell me that some random force possessed you to do this?
Thunder Train: Yeeeeah...
Gingerdude: That's it Train! You are suspended! Until Seven Deadly Sins, I don't even want to see your face.
Thunder Train: WHAT? ARGH, I'm not gonna argue. See you at Seven Deadly Sins...
Train steps over Rena's body as paramedics come rushing over to help her. He exits quietly and without fuss as Rena is tended to. Gingerdude watches Train and shakes his head. Son, I am disappoint he thinks while we fade out.
Fade...
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Post by Jonny Spade on Jul 23, 2009 16:07:06 GMT -5
Segment: The Workout (Credit: CP, Senator)
As the show returns from the break, we see “Textbook” Tim Dwight standing in front of the exercise equipment in the Dwight Gym, located inside the ACW Arena complex, while an obscured individual is partially seen on the bench press machine, frantically working away at his routine.
Tim Dwight: “Textbook” Tim Dwight here, I’m ACW’s head trainer, but I also can fill in as a backstage correspondent in a pinch, and that’s exactly what Chairman Gingerdude asked me to do here tonight. If you look behind me, you can see one of the most determined individuals in ACW, one Mr. Jason Freeman, hard at work for his ACW Title bout at Seven Deadly Sins! I’d interview the man now, but he’s in the midst of quite the workout, and would likely be a bit aggravated that I broke his focus. I did speak to Freeman before he started working out, and he wanted to relay the word that he’s going to train his body to a new level, giving Senator Phillips no method to defeat him in their title bout. Now, if you wait a few moments, I think Freeman might just want to close this show out with a few choice words towards our champ…
Suddenly, Gingerdude’s newest secretary, Miss Chloe Roberts walks into the Gym, handing Dwight a sheet of paper.
Dwight: This is…a bit strange, but if it’s got the official seal on it, I suppose I must obey. Sorry, people, but I’ve been summoned away to meet with Chairman Ginger himself, I’ll leave it back to you, Maxwell, Eddie.
Dwight walks off, Roberts following behind, but the camera does not follow with them, and instead, awkwardly remains in place, zooming in on Jason Freeman’s laborious series of lifts…until several other individuals show up in the scene. Chris Phenomenal, Anthony Kalb, and Kevin Fitsharris, by name. Freeman, completely oblivious to the incoming threat, is attempting to surpass his maximum repetition when CP walks over, and without so much as a word, takes the heavily loaded Olympic style barbell, and deposits it upon Freeman’s chest!
CP, having effectively stunned and pinned down the #1 contender then rains down right hands, enough so to raise an ugly welt on his opponent's face. Chris Phenomenal walks away for a brief moment, before running back and hitting a big jumping elbow drop on Freeman’s neck.
CP: You want a piece of this, you got it!
Kalb and Fitsharris walk over, doing their part, with Kalb taking a cable handle as an improvised set of brass knuckles, all the better to deliver punishing shots to the ribs, while Fitsharris drops a 25 lbs plate on Freeman’s foot.
Fitsharris: How’s that toe now!
Phenomenal then notices a set of resistance bands, and begins to strangle Freeman with them, wrapping them around the throat, and leaning back almost to the floor, using the unfortunate Freeman as leverage.
CP: We’re taking a trip to Benoit’s workout room from Hell!
Both Kalb and Fitsharris laugh at the unsettling scene before them, reveling in the brutality, when the doors to the Dwight Gym open up again, this time admitting none other than the ACW Champion, Steve Phillips.
The Senator: Ahem…
Phillips waves off all three of his allies, slowly making his way over to Freeman, as the #1 contender finally shoves the barbell off his chest. Freeman looks up, just in time to catch a short range Partisan Kick to the head. Phillips drags Freeman off the bench, and hurls him into the wall, nearly missing with a big right hand as Freeman ducks, and returns fire with a few kicks to the midsection. CP, however, puts a stop to Freeman’s escape with a lunging Superman Punch that nearly knocks him cold.
The Senator takes the decidedly stunned Freeman, and now launches him onto an active treadmill, sending him into a collision with the control console and before he can catch himself, Freeman is taken back off the machine and into the wall, where Phillips unleashes several harsh soccer kicks to the skull. The Senator turns back around, brushing his hands off, and waves the cameraman over to frame Freeman’s unconscious form as he stands over him.
Senator: And that, Freeman, is as much an evidence of my superiority, mentally, and physically, as you shall ever require. Know this, I could have destroyed you entirely, but instead, I shall do so at Seven Deadly Sins, so I may put an end to your title aspirations on the largest stage possible. Just remember that tomorrow, and the next day, and the next week until it comes time for you to challenge a man who has accomplished more than you shall ever hope to do in your life. ACW needs a fighting champion, a man strong enough to take this belt, and to destroy all threats to the prestige that it holds. I have defeated you today, but I know all too well that a war is not won simply by taking the ground, but by holding it. Following Seven Deadly Sins, you will no longer be worth two cents in this industry, and that, Freeman, is nothing…but the truth.
Fade Out
End of Show
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Post by Kim Jong CP on Jul 23, 2009 21:55:22 GMT -5
So in order to lighten the feed backing load, me and Rob (Jefferson) have decided to split the load in half so if you don’t see your shit here, it’s on his.
The Revealed Interview-- Solid enough segment, especially what it accomplished. I love how Red has come back and gone right after the big dog and not back down. The restraining order and production truck are a little clichéd however the use of “politics” by Senator I think is really helping him turn that corner from good guy to bad guy. His reasoning for it is also top notch.
It’s Gone to Far-- Again, great carry over from previous events here by Rob. I like the BJ character a lot, the face that’s fighting the right fight and even with his brother seemingly turning on him he’s still wanting to help him out. The addition of Mizuki to add that helpless element to the feud was a stroke of genius even if I don’t advocate beating women.
Triatha-WHAT?-- Very interesting premise from BK and Ben for this, especially since I was half expecting it to be the people who didn’t fight on Monday’s show. It adds a whole ‘nother dimension to the best of five series which is something I really like. The interaction between all four characters is really solid, as is the one-upsmanship that BK and Ben have going. I can kind of see where this is heading and I like it.
Touchable-- I’m really liking the return of Mr. Red and really hope he’s able to stick around and go after a fourth entertainment title run. The interaction with Jake Cheng here was nice although a little confusing as the untouchables are face but Jake seemed very much like a heel with this promo. That’s really my only gripe as it was a solid piece.
Strange Presence--Read it. Loved it. Didn’t understand it at all. I’m really hoping this is leading into something, especially with the Agent Amazing stuff we saw last week, otherwise to me it seems like a rather pointless segment. I have every confidence in Rep however to make things work.
Formalities--Different outlook on the announcement of a match, as well as furthering what appears to be Rep’s distaste for anything public. I’ve really like the addition of making it Abel as VorteX, adding something to an already hot feud as opposed to VorteX having just returned with his wounds all as is. I for one can’t wait for this match.
International Ultimatum--Interesting segment here and quite frankly, I am REALLY excited for what’s going to happen. Even with being absent Dave has done a great job of at least creating a storyline, and especially if this is his work, I’m ecstatic for how it’s going to conclude. Monday can’t come soon enough for me. Personally if it’s Shelton Splash or some shit like that defending the title for Dave, I’d be even happier.
Plotting/Execution-- Another nice segment capping off the segment from earlier in the evening and an interesting way of getting “revenge.” I’m sure the ticket isn’t going to affect Red, but the set up with the bodacious cop is an awesome way. When reading this I could actually see it happening in real life which I felt was awesome.
Omlete du Fromage-- Have no idea where the title came from. Fromage is cheese which I’m presuming is maybe what they swapped into, a cheese egg. Aside from the title I liked this and how they wrote it up with them resorting to treachery as opposed to just flat out beating them. Also liked Ben’s little inside joke about playing outfield.
The future, is now (and Panthery)-- To be fair this segment didn’t do it for me, if you’re going to come down to the ring and take the microphone you have to have something to say and this one really didn’t. I understood trying to get heel heat out of playing the crowd, but it honestly sounded like a thirteen year old in the ring. Saying someone is “fat and ugly” would cause me to laugh more than hate. Also the repetition of booing did not work either. Working in a few synonyms would have worked and made this a little better. I also would have liked a lot more about Shane that just contradicting his statements with your own. Don’t say it EXPLAIN IT. We’re all guilty of that at some point in time, I know I did it after my loss to Freeman with my “I will not cheat promo.” It was a great idea to come down to the ring and well used as far as timing wise, but the execution was just a wee bit off.
Tag Team Triathlon-Round 3: Bobbing for Apples-- I really really liked this entire idea and this segment didn’t fail. The random appearance of the table was a little off, I would have liked for it to have been mentioned earlier on. Never the less I liked the drowning bit as well as the reaction by The Capitalists. I also liked the ending slamming them face first in as I think this leads them closer to the inevitable respect, break up, win title, feud over it as we all watch in awe.
Quantum of Uncertainty-- I feel really bad feed backing an AK segment because I know she can write circles around me. Never the less I really liked this segment setting up what happened with Dave Shadow, and the though of AK being the attacker is mind boggling. Her denials however leave me in doubt. Somehow I think this is far from over.
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Post by Jack Jefferson on Jul 24, 2009 5:33:16 GMT -5
Omlete du Fromage-- Have no idea where the title came from. Omelette du Fromage = Cheese Omlette. It was the subject of a quality episode of Dexter's Lab!
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Post by rep on Jul 24, 2009 8:31:13 GMT -5
I wanted to see what CP (and any others) had to say about my other promo.
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Post by Jack Jefferson on Jul 24, 2009 9:29:54 GMT -5
I wanted to see what CP (and any others) had to say about my other promo. Well I've half-completed my feedback for page two )won't be able to finish it until tomorrow though). So you might as well get your feedback now, seeing as it's done and you asked for it. Reprobate Round Up – Some parts of this seemed a little irrelevant and pointless if I’m perfectly honest. I did, however, enjoy the Stan Vishis bit and The Reprobate showing his faith by praying. I honestly find it interesting that Rep is a man that believes in God. I think maybe Rep has too many characters and the fact there is seemingly many stories going on takes away from their meaning. One example of this would be Douglas Ozzy asking for help from Stan. This could’ve been a lot more than it was if the story was actually made to seem important.
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Post by The Red Panther on Jul 24, 2009 10:05:45 GMT -5
Yeah, I mean I thought this was a one wrestler fed, Rep has like ten.
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Post by rep on Jul 24, 2009 10:15:09 GMT -5
Big deal... it's not how many characters you have, it's if you put them to use. I put them ALL to use.
No one has ever told me that you can only have one character.
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Jason Freeman
Competition Judge
Long Island Iced Free
Posts: 3,271
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Post by Jason Freeman on Jul 24, 2009 16:25:21 GMT -5
I will have two segments in tonight. AND I SHALL MAKE THEM AMAZING <_<
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