Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 15:35:02 GMT -5
Wednesday Night Warfare, 14th October 2009
Schedule of Matches: -----------------------------------------
Lilith Dormieux vs. Jeff James
-----------------------------------------
Jack Jefferson vs. The Red Panther
-----------------------------------------
VorteX vs. Trent Wheeler
-----------------------------------------
High Roller vs. Dan White
------------------------------------------
Main Event ACW International Championship Chris Phenomenal vs. Dave Shadow
-----------------------------------------
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:10:33 GMT -5
As ACW embarks on its exciting and fresh new direction, there is a distinct sense of diversity from the norm this evening. As the season gears up for its slow transition into Winter, a distinctly colder atmosphere descends on the setting.
A sleepy sun is keen to retire for the day as a pallid moon lurks behind the horizon. Dreary eyes, worn out by the mundane rigmarole of everyday life, are about to be reinvigorated by the now weekly dose of eye-catching, jaw-dropping, mind-bending, over-the-top, high-octane, edge-of-your-seat explosive action. That’s what it says in the TV guide, anyway.
So sit back and relax, but don’t relax too much - you don’t want to doze off during the most stimulating two-hours in your otherwise dull week, do you? Let’s get ready for Warfare!
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:12:59 GMT -5
Alright. Let’s get this show on the road. The attendance in the ACW arena is brimming, as always. Even with raised ticket prices (Hey ACW is once a week exclusive, now), the fans can still afford to lend their full voice.
As the shot scans the broad sea of fans, a solitary sign sticks out. It seems innocuous and extraneous enough. It simply reads: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONNY”. Wow, somebody is in for a pleasant surprise when they see that. On with the show...
Opening Segment: An Unhealthy Suggestion
“Expectation is only the prelude to disappointment.” – Jack “Torak” Vernon, 3rd April, 2006
Jumping to conclusions can sometimes emerge as a dupes’ exercise. Reacting with a rash impulsive idealism – foolish, eager optimism can be crushed by a swerve of emotion or twist of a saga. Notably in ACW, it is easy to be led down one alleyway of drama only to be discourteously wrenched off bearing and onto an entirely different, unassumed trail. There can be many negative consequences of impulsive presumptiousness; disappointment; embarrassment; confusion; even anger.
The gutwrenching mechanical grinding chugs through the simmering ambience as the prelude to “Nobody’s Real” begins to point in the next direction to be taken by the wild ride that is coming to be known as Wednesday Night Warfare. The crowd jump to their feet and roar with thunderous approval. What they assume to be forthcoming has been highly anticipated and wished for, for a couple of bewildering weeks. As the interest levels in the arena simultaneously pique at this momentous instant, all collective concentration focuses on the entranceway curtain set flush into the glitzy set.
However, what emerges through the drapes is not the powerful, dominant figure of Torak. Instead, the loosely familiar form of a busty, plump, near-middle-aged woman stands poised at the core of the attention. She is not received well by many in the crowd. The swerve alone elicits a considerable amount of hostility directed towards her. Anyone who can recall as far back as late 2004 or early 2005 will remember the voice of malevolence behind the unstoppable monster that was Torak. They will remember her name as Cordelia LaBlanc.
A far cry from her former scrawny, witch-like build, she now exhibits some depressing curves and folds around her waist and stomach. Her arms are conspicuously flabby. Her once young, pretty but wicked face has become etched by the fingers of age. The more perverted observer takes notice of her ample bosom which, from memory, seems to have grown five-fold. She had never been so mammetorily blessed in her previous stint.
She continues onwards, strutting awkwardly towards the ring in a tight-fitting black corset and black leggings. She has either lost or abandoned her slinky, catwalk style swagger and her stout backside no longer wiggles with each step.
Her face carries a hint of sorrow. Either her rumpled eyes has been subject to a lack of proper sleep or tears have recently flowed from them. Pouting, her once luscious lips droop into a sulking frown. A natural blotch on the skin of her cheek reveals the brave absence of make-up – Rena must be having a panic-attack at the thought.
She reaches the ring and opts to use the steps located nearby for convenience. She steps into the ring with very little grace and saunters towards the far side of the ring with an outstretched hand aimed towards Phillip, who diligently understands her body language and relinquishes the microphone over to her, placing his cherished amplifying implement into her hand. Extra unwanted flesh coats her once bony fingers. Phillip returns to his seat with a marked sadness. He crosses his arms and legs and feels naked as he watches on, along with all in attendance.
She looks up, without raising her head, which is sunk low. A plethora of jeers and invectives envelop her thoughts before she can collect them, preventing her from speaking her mind, which she presumably came here to do. A solitary droplet forms in the corner of one eye and clings there until she wipes it away with her wrist. It seems genuine, but if she’s looking for sympathy, she’s getting none here.
Eventually, the noise quietens down and most of the fans attentatively lend their ears. Some continue to holler random insults, but the volume in the arena lowers enough for her to sufficiently air her thoughts. She raises the microphone to her mouth but her whispering voice cracks.
“For over a year – I have been in pain.”
She pauses to collect not only her thoughts but her composure as well. She sniffles, almost pathetically as she fights the temptation to break down.
“I’m not talking about the spurious, exaggerated pain that you bear witness to here in ACW. I’m talking about real pain – the kind that you feel here…”
She slowly maneuvers her free hand over her chest, resting it on the cushion of her breast. She can feel her heart beating wildly. She swallows the moisture that has formed in her mouth and can feel her nose running. She continues.
“I’m talking about the pain that you feel when you lose somebody that you love. The pain that you feel when your life is suddenly turned upside down. The pain that you feel from a broken heart.”
Her own words pierce her sensitivity and she breaks down as she speaks. Another tear forms, but this time is not prepared to linger and instead rolls quickly down her cheek. She quickly pulls it together, not wishing to give these cretins the satisfaction of falling apart in front of them. She wipes both of her cheeks with an open, quivering palm.
“Nearly 18 months ago, I experienced the worst day in my entire life – that day was supposed to be one of the happiest. I was going to meet – him...”
She can’t bring herself to say his name, knowing it will make things even more difficult to carry on.
“…after weeks of building up the courage, I was finally ready to give him the good news. We were going to be happy together. We were going to live our lives in each other’s company.”
She stops for a second, allowing an unhinged smile to curl in her lips as she stares torpidly into space. However, it soon drops as she focuses on the reality.
“But it was I who received the news – the gutwrenching, heart shattering news. The news that tore my life – my world – into tiny little pieces.”
The crowd goes silent, knowing exactly what incident she is referring to.
“Everything that I had dreamed of, everything that I had planned for us, was ripped to tiny shreds. And all because of the selfishness and vindictiveness of one single entity…”
All of the attention surrounding her increased monumentally and she could sense it. A tone of revulsion set into her voice.
“That’s right! My fiancé, the love of my life and the most treasured person to me in the world – he did not kill himself. You must be a fool if you believe the stories. The media. The cold hard fact is, my fiancé – Jack – he was murdered!”
The whole audience reels from the revelation. Some even audibly question “What?”. Others just look in puzzlement at each other or cover their mouths with their hands in a gesture of shock.
“And what’s more, I know who did it!”
She grits her teeth. The crowd share a communal gasp, the little pantomime crowd that they are. Some members of the crowd get a dreaded churning in the pit of their stomach, knowing this won’t end well, as they allow her to continue.
“I’m not interested in boosting the viewing figures. I’m not going to hype up your Pay-Per-Views. I’m not here to create “interesting” television. I’m here to give truth freedom and bring justice on behalf of my lover – for…Torak.”
Her eyes clamp shut as she resists the urge to bawl. Biting her lip, she takes a deep breath in through her nose.
“I have had enough of the suspense – the drama. Enough underlying mystery – and I’ve certainly had enough of the grief. So I’m not going to build it up. I’m going to tell you all, right here, right now so that you can all know the truth, as I do.”
That dreaded feeling in the pit of the stomach turns to full blown nausea. The average heart-rate in the arena rises sharply as the moment seems to go in slow-motion, agonizingly building up to this heinous exposure.
“The man that you know as Torak – my Jack Vernon – was murdered by none other than…”
Victor Laureano. Dan White. BK London. Andrew Hunter. Randy Dallas Kanyon. Ridley. All of these names flash in the minds of the fans. All of them plus more could be viable suspects, particularly their beloved Latino. She hunches down over the microphone and mouths very slowly.
“…A…C…W!”
The revelation mystifies all in attendance, including McNally and Edison who have sat obediently silent at ringside.
McNally: What? What the hell is she on about?
Edison: This crazy bitch must have a screw loose. In fact, I bet she hasn’t even got a single one fully tightened.
Allowing a satisfying level of confusion and resentment to set in, she continues.
“There is no doubt in my mind that Alpha Championship Wrestling directly caused the death of my fiancé. Born from it’s superficial, judgemental, pressuring demands and approach, my Jack met his demise. You can’t deny it. Nobody can deny it. This place is as guilty as sin itself.”
The hostility in the crowd resurfaces, un-appreciative of Cordelia’s agenda. Many consider hurling their paper cups and trash into the ring, but a stringent Health and Safety warning on their way in threatening to eject and ban anyone caught doing so, prevents them.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand my plight. So wrapped up in your own sad and lonely little world that you can never relate to another person’s tender sorrow. But let me ask you this: if you had lost somebody that you loved, somebody that you truly cared for – all at the iniquitous hands of a merciless…bastard individual, how would you feel? How would you react? I am sure that you would insist that the offending individual should not be allowed to walk the streets – not want to risk them re-offending, passing on the sadness onto more innocent victims. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what I am here to do. I – WILL – take ACW down. I can assure you of that. Even if that means me going down with it – that is a sacrifice I’d be willing to make. That’s how strongly I felt – still feel for Jack. But, I promise you, that if I go down, everybody is going down with me.”
More heat. The volume of the hostility amplifies to deafening levels. Phillip takes good, loving care of his microphone, though, so it easily overwhelms the rising tide of negativity.
“I pledge that any person who affiliates itself with this company, anybody who supports ACW or stands at it’s side will become a rival of mine. Whether it that amounts to the wrestlers, the road agents, McNally and Edison – or even you parisites!”
With a scowl, she directs a twisted glare towards the people gathered at ringside. They respond with further condemnation, both verbally and physically. The devotion of the ACW faithful, who can become quite partisan when their product is threatened, shines through in a riotous moment. The health and safety regulations are disregardedly thrown out of the figurative window as various objects; paper cups; rolled-up paper balls; signs; trash; novelty hats; shoes; and even a chair all narrowly miss the vehement Cordelia. Without hardly anybody noticing their arrival, a wild pack of road agents circle the ring in a hunting formation, seeking to maintain peace and civility and to keep the show running. One road agent, a burly black mountain of a man with seemingly the biggest spine in the entire group, enters the ring and meekly approaches Cordelia with a placating arm outstretched.
“Come on, Miss. LaBlanc…you’ve said your piece. Now, you need to leave the ring.”
Cordelia sneers at him and snatches the microphone away from his reach.
“See?! I anticipated this would happen, I knew that they would try to suppress me in some way. It is clear that the first sign of guilt is fear.”
The road agent places an apologetic hand over his chest whilst still holding his hand open to receive the microphone. He puts on his best puppy dog eyes as he pleads with her to desist. Cordelia is in no co-operative mood, however, and she spitefully tosses the microphone to the ground with a smirk. The road agent cautiously approaches her – sweat pouring from his forehead. He hadn’t bargained on being thrust into the spotlight for tonight’s show. Cordelia retracts.
“Don’t you DARE touch me!”
He retreats with his hands raised in surrender. He allows her to exit the ring of her own accord but instructs his fellow road agents to escort her up the ramp. There are a lot of hostile faces decorating both sides of the aisle and the road agents serve as a protective barrier for her as she leaves. She finally disappears back through the curtain and the leading road agent intakes a sharp breath of relief.
“That could have got nasty.”
Fade.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:15:10 GMT -5
"Watching And Seeing Nothing" Credit: Trent Wheeler, CP Chris Phenomenal is seen sitting on one of the crates just outside of the locker rooms, his match with Dave Shadow still hours away. As he leans back against the wall, his hands behind his head, eyes closed, Trent Wheeler walks in, bag in hand having just arrived at the building. Coming up alongside Chris, Wheeler puts his things down beside Chris and brings him out of his semi-concious state with a hearty slap on the back. Chris Phenomenal: Who the fuck…As Chris opens his eyes, he turns around and sees Trent Wheeler, the cocky newcomer to ACW standing in front of him. Chris Phenomenal: You again.Trent gives Chris a small smile as Chris slowly gets to his feet, hands clenched ready to throw down, the all too familiar fire within raging, the blue eyes become even steelier as flickers of red fill his pupils. Trent extends another hand towards Chris who glances down at it before shrugging him off, turning his back towards Trent who puts his hand on his back, turning Chris back towards him. Chris Phenomenal: Get your fuckin’ hands off o’ me.Trent Wheeler: Hey hey! Come on now Chris, no need for hostilities. I'm just here to say what's up and wish you luck tonight. You know, a friendly greeting.Chris Phenomenal: Right? I don’t need a bush leaguer wishin’ me well.Trent Wheeler: Oh, I figured you could use it. I mean, you got the crap beaten out of you last week. Michael Smart must be one tough cookie.Wheeler's condescending tone, solely intended to get under the skin of Chris Phenomenal doesn’t seem to work as Chris smirks back at him, shaking his head, the rage subsiding. Chris Phenomenal: Listen rook, I don't know why you think your all that. You‘ve done nothing in ACW yet, you beat some former fallout crap, then rode the coat tails of High Roller last week.Trent Wheeler: Oh please Chris. You must think that I'll never amount to anything huh? Even though I've already held a championship twice, just because it's in a company you've never heard of, you think it's meaningless.Winning that title was what got ACW to take notice of me!Chris Phenomenal: Right. Congratulations on the big win? Next you’re going to tell me that because you were mayor of Wizahatchi, Poklohama that you’re president in waiting. No, ACW needs cheap talent to keep the money makers fresh.Trent Wheeler: You know what Chris? Yeah, I do work for dirt. I barely get enough to pay the bills right now, but I still work because I wanna be the best. I'm here for myself and no one else. The money doesn't matter to me.Chris Phenomenal: Bull shit. You, the best? Get back to me in a few months and I’ll buy you a meal while you’re sitting on your ass, beggin’ for help because Gingerdude finally realized that you’re not even worth the pittance he’s paying you.Trent Wheeler: Watch tonight Chris. I'm facing VorteX tonight. You know, the man that holds the Entertainment Title? Once I beat him, everyone around here, including you, will take notice.With that Wheeler walks over to the doorway and looks back at Phenomenal. The small smirk still there, as the scene fades.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:16:46 GMT -5
I <3 House and Scrubs, but they make Hospitals seem more fun than they actually are..... By Dave Shadow Hospitals are never nice places to visit. Generally, they’re filled with death, decay and old people. You know. Really depressing stuff. There’s only really two reasons that people go to hospitals. Either they are sick or hurt, in which case, you’re hardly going to be in a great mood. Or you’re visiting someone who is sick or hurt, in which case, they are miserable and you’ve got to be solemn and caring. Either way, they aren’t fun places to be. And Dave Shadow should know. He’s spent most of the last two months sitting in a hospital room, at the end of a bed containing his brother.
Today, though, is different. Today is a day where Dave can go into the hospital room with a big smile on his face. He stands outside the hospital room for a few moments, gathering his thoughts, before heading inside. He pushes open the door. Sitting up in the hospital bed is his brother, Jay Tyler. Awake, at last.
Dave let’s a massive big smile spread across his face. Jay sits with a bowl of jelly and ice cream in one hand, and a spoon in the other, scoffing it down at 100 miles an hour. Suddenly, Jay drops the spoon and grabs hold of his head, letting out cries of pain. Dave rushes forward to check him, afraid that the attack might have caused some damage that only now is revealing itself.
Dave: Jay, you ok?Jay: Brain freeze! BRAIN FREEZE! Oh God, the pain.Dave lets a sigh of relief and slaps his brother on the shoulder. The two smile, as Dave takes the food off Jay, and lays it down on the table beside the bed.
Jay: So I hear you’re facing Chris tonight?Dave’s smile disappears.
Dave: Yeah. Was kind of hoping you wouldn’t find out, to be honest.Jay: vWhy didn’t you tell me before?[/color] Dave: I didn’t want you worrying about it. Jay: Yeah, well....now I know, I fully plan on making sure that TV is on Wednesday night. I want to see Chris get his ass kicked.Dave: Tell me what happened again.Jay: What? The attack? I opened the door, and there was Chris. I had talked to him a few times before, at various GWF and ACW parties and gatherings. Seemed like a nice enough chap. So, when he came knocking on your dressing room door, I invited him in to watch the rest of the show. Moment I turned my back, I felt a chair smack me over the back of the head. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in this hospital bed. Nurses tell me it’s 2 months later.Dave: Did Chris....did he tell you why he attacked you? Did he say anything before hand?Jay: No. I opened the door and greeted him, but he didn’t say a word. When I woke up, I was told you were at the ACW arena, about to fight in the Emperor of the Ring finals. The nurses tried to get a message to you to tell you I was awake....[/color] Dave: Chris intercepted it. Apparently, the aide who Gingerdude sent to deliver the message bumped into Chris, and he told her that he’d pass on the news. Obviously, he didn’t. He must have realised the game was up, and that’s why he revealed himself.Jay: Not before securing a title shot first, though.Dave: I was desperate, Jay. He said he knew who attacked me, and he’d only tell if I gave him the shot. I had no other choice but to accept the offer. Besides, it worked in my favour. He gets a title shot, I get to beat the living daylights out of him.Jay: Dave, make me a promise.Dave: Of course.Jay: Beat the crap out of that bastard.The smile spread back across Dave’s face, larger than ever. He sat down on the bed beside Jay and shook his head in feign shock.
Dave: Jay, are you condoning revenge? Cause you know, if you ask me to get revenge, I will have no other choice. My honour as a brother is on the line.The two men let out a laugh.
Dave: Seriously though, it is nice to hear someone back me up on this violence thing.Jay: What do you mean?Dave: The office has come down hard on me over the last week. The “powers-that-be” don’t want me to hurt Chris beyond the usual wrestling beatings.Jay: They afraid you’re going to put him in a hospital bed?Dave: Gingerdude is. Doesn’t want to lose one of his fastest growing money-makers. I guess he’s willing to ignore the fact that he tried to end my career. Typical Gingerdude.Jay: And Alicia?Dave: She thinks we should be looking to fix whatever is wrong with Chris, like he’s some sort of escaped mental patient. Excuse me if I don’t feel the same desire to “help” me.Jay: Listen, I’ve obviously been a tad out of it for the last few weeks, so I’m still trying to get a full picture of whats been happening. I’ve had to rely a bit on the internet, in particular Wikipedia.Dave: That’s never good.Jay: There seems to be some implications that perhaps you and Alicia have been doing more than just looking for the attacker together.Dave: What the hell does that mean?Jay: I’m just saying that the rumour is....Dave: Since when do you listen to internet rumours? And where the hell did this idea about me and Alicia come from? First Chris, then you. The two of us have a strictly professional relationship.[/color] Jay: Have. But is that what you want?Dave: As I said, she’s my boss and she’s been helping me in a professional sense to find out who did this. And look. She did. We’ve identified Chris, and now we can work together to eliminate this cancer from ACW. It’s still the same Crusade for the benefit of ACW. Just now, the target and goal has changed ever so slightly. Now, listen. I’ve got to head to the arena to get our revenge, but I’ll be back here straight after for a celebration, ok?Jay: Yeah.Dave stands up and walks towards the door. Before he reaches it though Jay speaks again.
Jay: You have changed though. Since before the attack. Maybe you don’t notice it. Maybe others don’t either. It might have been too gradual for them. But for me....I see the difference between you. I’m just not sure what it is that’s different.Dave opens the door and stops for a moment, looking forward as if trying to think of a response. He turns to Jay and smiles, before shaking his head and walking out of the room once more. Jay leans back in the bed and puts his head on the pillow. Although awake, his energy is still quite drained. He slowly falls asleep once more, as thoughts of what has changed for Dave runs through his head.Fade.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:18:48 GMT -5
Match 1: Lilith Dormieux vs Jeff James
Not yet received
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:20:41 GMT -5
The pinch of the unsteady economical climate affecting ACW has been well documented lately. So often has Gingerdude delved into his deep pockets only to withdraw empty handed. That is why he has had to resort to drastic measures in order to survive. Most notably, rescheduling his company to a mere show per week. Creating a rarer “spectacle” feel to his product has enabled him to hike ticket prices. Praying on the rabid loyalty of the ACW fans to fill the arena.
Unprecedently, the broadcast seems as if it has been rudely interrupted by an outside source. A commercial break creeps in part way through the show to the amazement of home viewers. After thirty seconds of brainwashing product placement, normal transmission resumes as viewers fume at the disruption.
[OOC: This is a Segment Save]
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:22:14 GMT -5
Breaking in the New Guy [/color] Credit: VorteX[/center] The scene fades into Vortex’s locker room, which is currently pitch black. The scene remains black for almost a minute, creating an uncomfortable silence within the room and within all of those watching this footage. Even though there is nothing to see yet, one can almost feel an uneasiness within themselves, as if something amazing is about to happen.
A few seconds more, and the click of a TV being turned on can be heard. A small whine and then a picture comes to life, burning a hole in the retinas of anyone watching as their eyes must be well adjusted to the darkness by now. On screen, we see some of the footage from Vortex’s Entertainment defense on the last Warfare:---Spade pulls VorteX up to his feet and hoists him up in a side-carry before hitting a pendulum backbreaker. He makes the cover, but VorteX once again prevents the title from changing hands by kicking out on two. Spade wastes no time or momentum in complaining and immediately pulls VorteX to his feet. He sets up a pump handle arrangement, obviously looking to hit the Pump Handle Schwein. But as he lifts VorteX up onto his shoulders, he gains no purchase, allowing the Champion to slide down his back and take Spade down in a waistlock. Maintaining the hold, Spade attempts to battle back, trying to shake off his opponent and throwing some loose back elbows. Vortex retains his grip even as Spade gets to his feet. It works in VorteX’s favour as he swiftly hits a sublime release German suplex. Spade folds up like origami and VorteX quickly goes for the cover. 1. 2. Jonny kicks out. ---Laughing can be heard midway through this footage, and all who are watching are now aware that the TV isn’t switching itself on and off, however Vortex is also sitting in the dark. Vortex mutters to himself as he watches the footage.Vortex: You thought you had me cornered there Spade…didn’t you?The footage continues to play:---There is a sense that this match is reaching a climax as Spade pulls VorteX to his feet. He attempts to whip him across the ring, but VorteX reverses and pulls Spade into a front facelock. He lifts him up, looking for the Psychosugery…but Spade drops out. Spade pushes VorteX in the back, forcing him to the ropes. Spade attempts a stiff lariat, but VorteX ducks and hits a roundhouse kick to the face of a stunned Jonny. Spade sees double as VorteX approaches. He locks in the front facelock again and lifts him and this time hits the crushing Psychosurgery. VorteX makes the cover. One! Two! Three! The bell rings as VorteX rolls away from the fallen Spade. The referee collects the title from ringside on his behalf and awards it to him. ---More laughter and then the lights in the room suddenly burst on, appearing as a supernova in contrast to the stark darkness that preceded them. Vortex: SURPRISE! Vortex jumps out of the chair he was sitting in and yells this exclamation at the top of his lungs to all of the spiders and piles of dust in attendance. Vortex giggles to himself once more, before rewinding the tape and watching the ending again. As the tape comes to the part where Vortex locks in the Psychosurgery, Vortex pauses the tape, and all can see a surprised look on Spade’s face. Vortex turns to the camera and starts speaking.Vortex: Expecting the unexpected is always a fine idea when facing me. Jonny here, was clearly not expecting the unexpected, and about four seconds after this frame, felt the canvas meet his face. Trent, I know you must be watching this feed somewhere in the arena tonight, so let me let you in on a few things. Vortex points to the TV screen.Vortex: Trent, the key to beating me tonight lies right here. Don’t get caught with your pants down! Vortex goes to pull his pants down, yet only gets halfway before pulling them up again and starting to speak once more.Vortex: I know you are new to the game, so tonight should be a great experience for you. The higher ups here muse see something in you to book you against the Entertainment Champion in your second ACW match…so when you lose don’t take it to heart. Vortex laughs once more before picking up the chair he was sitting on, folding it, and looking at the camera with a stern expression.Vortex: And Trent, don’t you DARE try to use one of these on me! Vortex swings the chair backwards and brings it forwards again smashing the camera. Vortex now appears as three different parts of one whole and in oversaturated Technicolor to boot. Vortex waves at the camera before grabbing the cord to the light above him and pulling it rapidly, creating a kaleidoscope effect. Vortex: So…GET READY TO DANCE MY BOY! Vortex rips the cord off of the light, causing the light to turn off and the room to return to the darkness. Vortex begins laughing manically and flips the TV off, bringing the scene full circle. Vortex’s laughter trails off, as the camera…stays black.
Fade.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:24:48 GMT -5
Wednesday Night with Kevin Anderson Jack Jefferson
In what appears to be an extremely barren TV studio sits Kevin “The Internet” Anderson. He is perched on a faded brown leather chair placed directly opposite a black leather sofa in a similarly dilapidated condition. Kevin actually looks nervous as he shuffles a stack of cue cards in his hands and wipes his brow, the effects of the hot lights taking their toll as they glare down on “ACW’s #1 Reporter”. He retrieves a glass of water from beside his anxiously tapping and takes a large gulp of the refreshing contents. Letting out a sigh of pleasure he seems to relax slightly, actually sitting back in his chair rather than sitting rigidly on the edge of the seat.
A relieved smile finds its way onto Kevin’s face as Jack Jefferson struts into the studio and seats himself opposite Kevin. He looks distinctly unimpressed with his surroundings and shoots Kevin a look of disgust which makes the interviewer flinch slightly before attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Jefferson sinks back into the sofa and stares at Kevin like he’s got two heads, waiting for something to happen. For what seems like an age Kevin simply stares back at Jefferson, mouth slightly ajar, before remembering what exactly is going on and turning to stare directly down the barrel of a nearby camera.
Kevin: Hello everyone. As you all know I’m Kevin “The Internet” Anderson and tonight I am fortunate enough to be interviewing a man who needs no introduction. One of this year’s Emperor of the Ring finalists...Jack Jefferson!
Jefferson looks distinctly unimpressed with Kevin’s attempt at an introduction for him and decides to leave Kevin waiting in uncomfortable silence for thirty seconds before responding.
Jefferson: Wow Kev, that was quite the introduction...
Kevin: You think so? Well, it’s always been my dream to host my own chat show and--
Jefferson: Fuck me, you really are as dense as that ridiculous haircut suggests aren’t you? That was sarcasm you complete and utter halfwit!
Kevin: Oh...right. Anyway, it’s great to have you here for this sit down interview. I was worried you weren’t going to show. After all, you’ve never exactly been nice to me.
Jefferson: To be honest Kev, I wish I hadn’t. I mean, I know the world is in a financial crisis and even ACW isn’t exempt from that but fuck me – this is one sorry excuse for a TV studio! Oh, and don’t get any ideas. I’m here because I deserve to be heard, not because I think you’re not actually a slug and have miraculously become a worthwhile human being.
Kevin: Okay...well, you mentioned the hard times ACW is going through right now. With the schedule being heavily reduced and costs being cut wherever possible how exactly do you think the changes are going to affect you?
Jefferson: Simple. Things aren’t going to affect me. I know a lot of people around here are running around trying to make themselves look important so they don’t lose their jobs. I don’t have that problem because, to put it simply, I actually matter. I’m a marquee name here in ACW and this promotion needs me far more than I need it. If management puts the name “Jack Jefferson” on a PPV poster you can guarantee it’s going to sell. Honestly, I’m insulted you even felt the need to ask such a banal question. The answer is so glaringly obvious if you just stop to think about it for even a second!
Kevin: Ok, then. How about we talk about Emperor of the Ring. Just over a week ago we saw you take on Dave Shadow in the final of the prestigious tournament. How did it feel to make it so far?
Jefferson: Honestly, it was great to make it to the final and eventually get some of the recognition I have so richly deserved for so long. Ultimately, though, it ended up meaning nothing didn’t it?
Kevin: I don’t quite follow...
Jefferson: I lost you fucking idiot! 2nd place is only First Loser and that just isn’t good enough for me. No, I slipped up that night and it cost me big. Everyone knows I deserved to win but once again Dave Shadow lucked out and walked away with the spoils. I’m so sick of that smug little Irish cunt constantly getting in my way!
Kevin: Well, it was a great match and it was clearly very close but I don’t think you can really call it luck. You were beaten fair and square.
Jefferson: Fair and square? Fair and fucking square?! That is complete and utter crap. Dave got lucky and it’s as simple as that. I know it, he knows it, every fat lazy bastard sat at home watching this show while picking their nose and scratching their arse knows it. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself to get you to understand me but it’s quite simple, even by your extremely low standards. I...am...the...best...ACW...has...to...offer! No matter how much people dispute, deny, and outright refute it that is the fact of the matter and no amount of brown nosing Dave Shadow is going to change that!
Kevin: Surely you must be a little annoyed that Dave will be going on to get a shot at the World Title though? There isn’t even any part of you that wishes you were in his place?
Jefferson: No, because I don’t need to win some poxy tournament to prove my worth. I am more than worthy of a shot at the ACW World Heavyweight Title and I will do all in my power to ensure that I get one. When I do, whether it be against Dan White, Dave Shadow or Elma fucking Fudd it won’t make a blind bit of difference. The outcome will be the very same...Jack Jefferson holding the World Title high above his head!
Kevin: Clearly you’re confidence about your championship credentials. Does your recent victory over former tag team partner Mr. Red have anything to do with this?
Jefferson: The match against Red was a formality from the get go. I singlehandedly carried him on my back when we were Code Red, he’s done nothing of merit since then, and I proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that I am the far superior competitor. No number of so-called clever attacks could save him from his inevitable fate. I promised destruction and that’s exactly what I delivered!
Kevin: Are you equally as confident going into your match with The Red Panther tonight then?
Jefferson: You know what Kev? I actually find it insulting that I even have to get into the squared circle with someone so far below my level. Less than two weeks ago I was competing in the final of the Emperor of the Ring tournament. Last week I was in the main event of the first ever Wednesday Night Warfare. The first ever! This week they’ve got me facing some nobody in a mask who seems to think he’s some kind of fucking big cat. He’d be much better off not turning up, if he doesn’t insult me with his presence then I won’t have to beat his to an unrecognisable pulp, not that you’d recognise him without the mask anyway...but you know what I mean. No, Panther – or whatever the blue hell that fruit loop wants to refer to himself as – is in for a very rough time tonight. He may think he’s some king of the jungle but he’s venturing into the big leagues now and he barely qualifies as a tame house cat!
Kevin nods, seemingly impressed with Jefferson’s brash confidence, although the cool demeanour he’s trying to create for himself is shattered as he attempts to shuffle his cue cards and ends up spilling them all over the floor. Jefferson scowls before rising to his feet, evidently unimpressed.
Jefferson: Fuck this, it’s so amateur it’s unreal! Next time I’m going to ask for Charlotte. She may still be shit but at least I can look at her tits while she’s asking me generic questions!
With that Jefferson simply walks off the set without as much as another word, leaving Kevin scrambling for his cue cards whilst wearing a dejected look on his face. He doesn’t even bother picking all his cards up before slumping back into his chair and addressing the camera.
Kevin: Well I guess there you have it. Jack Jefferson wants the ACW World Title and he’s going to prove his worth by destroying The Red Panther tonight. I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes right now!
Fade to Black
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:27:08 GMT -5
Segment: Credit crunch segments were last week, but fuck it, I'm fashionably late (Credit: The Red Panther) With ACW's sponsors in trouble, we are at one show a week. And now, some people may have too leave. Our view in The Red Panthers locker room, in his house, as he doesn't have one in the ACW arena. There are three lockers, all red. The walls are black and the floor is like a foamy sponge too absorb water and sweat, red again. There is a steel bench, with The Red Panther sitting on it. He has been training for his match with Jack Jefferson and so is wearing his wrestling attire. Our camera man is standing across from him.Panther: Well ACW fans, apparently we have a credit crunch, meaning I now have too cut promos from my fucking house. Now first of all- Before TRP can finish, an ACW staff member walks in. He has a black tee-shirt, black shoes, blacktrowsers and a black hat with the red ACW logo on it, plus a headset.Staff: Red, we have a problem. In a recent board meeting ACW was slightly over budget, so somebody had too be fired. Panther: Was it that annoying Jimmy Winner? Staff: No, it was your friend Tartarus Kreed. Panther is visibly annoyed, turning and punching the locker behind him.Panther: Well that messes up my fucking plans. I had HOPED I could maybe get a title shot at Samhain while Tartarus fought Winner, but with Tartarus gone I'm going too have to wait longer too see Winner get beaten down. At this moment the aforementioned Jimmy Winner enters, wearing his purple tracksuit. Panther stands up too Winner, eye too eye.Winner: Chill out cup-cakes, Jimmy Winner has no time for fighting tonight. Jimmy Winner simply came too tell you that Gingerdude decided that since our first match got such high ratings, that we are now allowed too fight each other under our normal contract. Jimmy Winner suggests you get ready for tonight, and also get ready to fight me later. With that Winner leaves. Panther obviously isn't too happy after having one of his friends/weapons against Winner fired, but now that they can fight, he may be able too get revenge.[/fade] OOC: I was finding it hard too write for Kreed, so just dropped him as part of the credit crunch story. OOC in ACW world he took Yokos flapjack so she ripped his hand off.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:28:17 GMT -5
“EMANATE DOMAIN” Credit: High Roller [Living in the desert the High Roller has seen his fair share of ghost towns over the years. Even still, the Roller always finds the experience of walking around in a place that no longer has a spirit unnerving. At this moment in time he is experiencing such an emotion as he takes an uninvited stroll through the now abandoned Fallout Arena on his way to the Gym that is attached to its side. While both the talent and the fans have long left this place, one man remains in part to a good will gesture by Gingerdude to atone for his mistakes ... ] Biff: I trust you know how to say “excuse me” or something of the like so are you either going to say it or stand there and take a picture? Pick one of the two or get don’t let the door hit you on the ass, you peeping Tom. High Roller: Mais, you have sumthin I need, pod nah. Biff: An English book? High Roller: There be no need for insults, mon ami. I come to yoo to discuss a lil’ bid’ness, not to be getting mah knuckles dirty. So dun go pressin your luck. Biff: And word has it luck is something you know all about, isn’t it Mr. Rillieux? High Roller: I see dat my rep-u-ta-shawn proceeds mah’self. Biff: That it does, but if you are looking for a job, I am afraid I you came to the wrong guy. The “Grand Wizard of Oz” across the street decided one day to up and leave and left his company in the hands of a blundering idiot who ended up giving it way to even a bigger blundering idiot. While they played musical chairs Fallout became collateral damage. The only thing still running out of this building is the gym, on rent, mind you. High Roller: Well dat be very nice of you to tink I be seeking your employment but I alredee have a job and I alredee know your currant predicament. No, I come to you tonight to take sumthin off your hands dat you no longer be needin. Dese days a man can’t afford to be weighed down wit possessions that be just collectin dust. Biff: And what “dusty possession” of mine is it that you seek? High Roller: Dis.[The Roller takes a couple of steps forward to take advantage the a desk that separates the two men like the Berlin Wall. Now that his briefcase is sturdy and upright, the Roller pulls out a photograph from it much like a rabbit from a magician’s top hat and slides it into Biff’s possession.] Biff: Why on Earth would you want the Fallout Gym for? High Roller: Not so much why I want da gym, but more so da land it resides on. Dis here island have all types of attractions for the lookie loos who come here for ah little rest and re-lax-a-shawn, but one dang it dun have is a place to relieve dem of ah little pocket change. I plan to be changin dat. Biff: *pause* So if I am hearing you correctly, which is a damn hard enough task to begin with, you want to buy the Fallout Gym so you can tear it down and put up a Casino? High Roller: Das right. Rasslin is what be still drivin da masses to this tropical paradise, but bid’ness ain’t like it yoosed to be as you very well know. I fig’ah dat it be high time for anuther a-tract-shawn and da local big wigs ah’gree. Biff: Oh, I’m sure they would. High Roller: And dats why they be fundin most of dis here project, dough since it be mah name on da deed I be bankin most of the coin, of course. Bottom line, dey want da fans to have easy access to dis up ain coming establishment and what could be more con-ven-ant dan across da street?!Biff: Well Kenny Rodgers, you have given me a lot to think about though I do not need long to process it. My answer is simple: GET OUT! High Roller: Misure Taylor, yoo have’nt even seen da figure I be offering you!Biff: And I don’t need to! Some things are NOT for sale! The Fallout Gym is on of them. It’s memories will continue to live on even if that means I take it to my grave! See yourself out but not before delivering a message to that idiot across the street! Tell Ginger that if he dare even about tearing down the Fallout Arena, he will not only have to answer to me, but to a lot of unemployed, pissed off men who would love nothing more than to relieve their frustrations! [The Roller has sit across from enough men at the poker table to know when to call a bluff. This is not one of those times. Instead he “backs away from the table” and proceeds in the direction from where he came forth. Once outside, he pulls forth his patented Cuban cigar from his vest pocket and lights it up. It’s smoke tickles his lungs and relieves him of his stress. Now with a cool head, he collects his thoughts and responds aloud - ] High Roller: It not be wise to stand in da way of progress, mon ami.[FADE]
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:30:05 GMT -5
Segment: Power Point Credit: Trent Wheeler
Trent Wheeler wandered the halls of the ACW arena with a purpose. He wanted to find Kevin Anderson. he was the little annoying bug that plagued him. Still, Wheeler felt he had to seek him out. To put him in his place? Maybe.
Wheeler heard Anderson's voice and headed towards it. Anderson is sitting down, staring at his laptop, on rajah.com, a wrestling news and rumors site. Wheeler looks at Anderson and shakes his head.
Trent Wheeler: Kevin!
Anderson jumps up, nearly dropping his computer. He sets his computer down and adjusts his sunglasses.
Kevin Anderson: Well look who it is. Trent Wheeler, The Black Wolf. It seems like your actually getting pretty good and making the higher-ups impressed. How does it feel? I mean, your proving everyone wrong. Nobody thought you'd get this far!
Trent Wheeler: You know what Kevin? It feels great to prove everyone wrong, especially you. You try to act like you got all the answers, but you don't. You shouldn't be preaching to me about impressing the higher-ups like you've been doing. Do you even have any power with them?
Kevin Anderson: Wha-what!? Of course I have power! I hold tons of power! Why would you even ask that?
Trent Wheeler: Well I don't know. Could have something to do with the fact that you were looking at Rajah on your laptop.
Wheeler snatches Anderson's laptop up.
Kevin Anderson: Don't touch that!
Trent Wheeler: Yep. Right here on Rajah. "New ACW wrestler Trent Wheeler impressing with matches. Expect him to make it big, and soon." Sounds right. Is this why your called "The Internet?" Wow. That was stupid of me. Thinking you actually mattered. Your just here to interview the real important people. Like me. Here, take you laptop back, I'm done.
Wheeler hands back the laptop and walks away from Anderson, laughing.
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:32:24 GMT -5
Match 2: Jack Jefferson vs The Red Panther (Credit: Red Panther)
The opening strains of Sepulrura's Roots bloody roots blasts out as The Red Panther strolls out, surrounded by smoke.
Roots bloody roots Roots bloody roots Roots bloody roots Roots bloody roooaaaaaahh
The Brazilian metal barely drowns out some of the boos, but we can still hear the fans reaction. Panther climbs up the steps, climbs in and air boxes as the song kicks in.
I Believe in our fate We dont need to fake Its all we wanna be Watch me freeeaaak !!
Panther charges at the middle of the ring and performes a shoryuken and the backs into his corner.
“Paint It Black” by The Rolling Stones hits the speakers and Jack Jefferson emerges through the curtain to a wall of boos from the fans. This doesn’t seem to faze Jefferson as a big smirk grows on his face whilst he looks out across the sea of fans in attendance. He then takes his time as he cockily struts to the ring, apparently oblivious to the booing he receives. As Jack reaches the ring he quickens his pace so that he is able to slide straight in.
He climbs onto the turnbuckle to his right, placing his right foot on the top rope whilst leaving his left on the middle rope and smirks at the audience below. He slaps his hands on his pectoral muscles and holds his arms out wide, forming a ‘gun’ with his index fingers and thumbs. He then hops down, dropping his jacket over the ropes and stretches, awaiting the bell.
DING DING DING!
The two circle each other casually clapping there own hands. Jefferson looks confident while Panther looks between confident and focused. The two run in and lock up for a second or two, but then push back. The two do it again, pushing very hard again but not going back. Jefferson stamps on Panthers foot and follows with a knee to the ribs. Jefferson pushes Panther back into the ropes and unleashes a series of chops followed by an irish whip. On the return Panther slides between Jefferson's legs and uses his upper body strength too wrap his arms around Jacks legs and push him face first onto the mat. Now on top, Panther washes Jefferson's face into the mat with his left hand and slams punches into the back of his head with his right hand. Panther transitions into a body scissors and rolls into a sitting position, hitting Jefferson with alternating left and rights.
Maxwell: This hold is very useful.
Edison: Well Jefferson was in the Emperor of The Ring final for a reason, he can counter holds like this very well.
Jefferson swings his elbow round, nailing Panther above the eye. He then rocks back, putting Panthers shoulders down. 1...2...Panther rolls back up. Jefferson gets four more punches too the head from Panther and so begins standing. After a few seconds Jefferson is up. He quickly turns, mounts the bottom rope of the nearest corner and bounces back, landing with Panther crushed under Jefferson. Seeing his chance, Jefferson puts in The Border City Stretch! Panther has problems getting out, his arm in pain. Eventually he manages too throw his leg back, hooking in over the middle rope. The ref sees and begins counting. 1...2...3...4...Jefferson lets go and stands while Panther holds his arm on the mat. Jefferson makes a spin as Panther stands and goes for a kick too Panthers head as he stands.
Maxwell: This could be a devastating kick!
Luckily for Panther he manages too grab the kick! Panther pushes Jefferson back too the middle of the ring and laughs at him hopping. Panther spins Jefferson 360 degrees, and as Jefferson spins hits him with a pele kick! The dizzy Jefferson stumbles too the ropes and on the rebound walks into an inverted atomic drop. Panther then spins Jefferson and goes too work with some boxing jabs, pushing JJ into the ropes. Panther leads Jefferson down into the corner and hits him with the Hawaiian Violence Party, causing Jefferson too fall over. Panther covers but only gets two. As Panther lifts Jefferson, JJ turns the tables with a huge uppercut too the jaw, followed by an ur-naga into a back breaker! Jefferson then drags Panther too the corner and lifts him too the top rope, signaling the end. Quickly, Jefferson finishes it with a fallaway moonsault, holding on for the three.
Warfare Winner: Jack Jefferson
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:34:30 GMT -5
PIGLET & POOH [/center][/color] credit: Ringleader, Yoko YEAR: 2004 The sun had begun to set as Rena and Yoko walked through the local warf just steps from the ACW arena. the wind had picked up slightly and there was a sting of chill in the air as the sun fell closer and closer towards the sea that stretched on for what seemed like a million miles, prompting Rena to mentally thank the gods she decided to pull on her light gray cardigan. Yoko hadn't worn a jacket or a sweater but she seemed to not have been bothered about the weather, and at the moment she seemed a little amused at what Rena was talking about.RENA:I always get gelato from this little Italian stand near the end of the pier. YOKO: There's an ice cream vendor inside the arena, you know. Rena stopped dead in her tracks, but Yoko hadn't really noticed. Just as Yoko became too far away from her, Rena held out her arm and grabbed Yoko by the sleeve of her shirt.RENA:We're not getting ice cream, Yokie, we're getting gelato. YOKO: It's the same thing. RENA:Yeah, but it's so much better. Both girls had begun to walk towards the vendor, which was in sight as they continued to stroll.YOKO: I don't really like ice cream. Or gelato. RENA:Oh, you'll LOVE LOVE LOVE this gelato. It's like I ordered it fresh from Italy and they just bring it across the sea. YOKO: We'll see. RENA:Yes we shall. So...Hey, how's everything in Pain Inc. these days? YOKO: Everything's... Fine. Sorry I couldn't get you in. RENA:Oh, that's alright. I didn't really need to be in that silly club of yours. Anyways, we're still friends- that's all that counts. YOKO: Right. RENA:*smiles* You're always so serious when we get into the arena. It's nice just kind of talking to you outside of the job. YOKO: Well, you become a huge bitch when you step into the arena. So it's mutual. RENA:I do. But it's what keeps me here, I think YOKO: I don't buy that. RENA:What do you mean? Yoko stopped for a moment and paused, as if thinking. In truth, she was just pretending to think to prolong Rena's curiosity.RENA:Yoko! Yoko smiled.YOKO: I just think that even if you weren't a bitch and didn't sleep with all the guys backstage you would still have a job. RENA:c'est possible, but I wouldn't be getting my own office with the most expensive furniture I could manage to fit on Ginger's Amex card. YOKO: I suppose that's true... RENA:And the same goes for you. You could be nice Yoko and still have a good career. YOKO: *mimicking Rena* C'est possible, but being intimidating is too much fun. And I don't know how a nice me would work out in Pain Inc. I'd get kicked out, literally. RENA:This is true. YOKO: Maybe one day I'll try it out. RENA:c'est doubtful. YOKO: You're probably right. RENA:SUCCESS! We're here! Rena shot an arm into the air to celebrate her victory as the two stopped at the small gelato vendor.RENA:Cioccolato fondente, please! Yoko was impressed the way Italian seemed to flow from Rena's mouth so perfectly, thinking so as she squinted at the gelato flavors written in Italian.VENDOR: And for the other Miss? YOKO: Ummm ... what's the ...Ugaaaateayyy... RENA:She'll have the gianduia. Thanks. YOKO: What flavor is that? RENA:It's hazelnutty and stuff. YOKO: Rena, I'm allergic to nuts. RENA:You are? YOKO: Nah. RENA:Then shut up and eat your ice cream. YOKO: You mean gelato. RENA:Eat! -_- Time had gone by. Rena and Yoko were leaning against a cement half wall, the wall ending just under each other's bottom. Rena popped another spoonful of gelato into her mouth.RENA:And the verdict is? YOKO: Not bad. RENA:SEE! I knew you'd like it. You need to trust me more often! YOKO: If I did, I'd probably wind up pregnant and or with Syphilis. RENA:Hey! YOKO: *smiles* Sorry, I couldn't resist! RENA:*playing with the leftover gelato in her bowl* You know, you should really consider being face or something. YOKO: Or something? RENA:Yeah, like leave Pain Inc and just do something great with yourself. YOKO: Like what? Rena put a finger to her mouth for a second as she squinted into the sky, growing darker and darker by the minute. Finally she struck her finger out with conviction, threw her gelato bowl into the nearby trashcan and stood facing Yoko with her arms out as if playing out her idea.RENA:You and I could be a tag team! YOKO: *bursts out laughing* What? RENA:Yeah, c'mon it'd be fun! YOKO: Why would we be in a tag team? It seems so strange. RENA:That's because you haven't thought about it! It would be amazing! YOKO: Tag teams sort of...Intimidate me. Ever since Orochi and I sort of bombed as Prison Break. RENA:Forget the big lug, he weighed you down like an anchor. We'd be totally different. YOKO: What would we be? The Gelato Girls? RENA:NO! EW! Lame name! YOKO: Then what would you suggest, oh great plan-maker? RENA:What about ... Flower Power! YOKO: Flower Power? Really? RENA:I like flowers. You like power. It seems like a perfect match. YOKO: *smiles* It makes sense. Keep working on it. RENA:I will. We'll be tag champs one day, I know it. YOKO: I'll just keep eating while you plan our future. RENA:*laughs* You know ... we're kind of like Pooh and Piglet. YOKO: What? RENA:You're Pooh and I'm Piglet. YOKO: Why do I have to be Pooh? RENA:*smiles* Remember the time I bet you that you couldn't fit through that basement window when we went to some guy's house on Collier street? YOKO: ...Not in the slightest. RENA:Yeah, well, I won that bet. YOKO: I think that was someone else, Rena. Yoko laughed at Rena as she went on a tangent about the strange man on Collier street who seemed to really be interested in the two asian females. Yoko insisted she was absent until she let slip a tidbit of information that proved Rena correct. They laughed together and then set back for the arena as the moon came up and the stars began to shine above them.YOKO: You're a great friend. [fade]
|
|
Torak
poster
Imagination and fantasy are two components of delusion
Posts: 713
|
Post by Torak on Oct 14, 2009 16:35:55 GMT -5
A short clip of the many, many horrific injuries witnessed during the brutal history of ACW rolls. Suffice to say, it is a highlight reel, for to show every injury incurred by Gingerdude’s roster would take an entire show up by itself. After many grimacing and pained faces narrated by a frosty old man spinning something about “trained athletes” and “supervised environments” a simple tagline adorns a black screen. “Please. Don’t be a Yardtard.”
[OOC: Another saved segment]
|
|