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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 13, 2007 3:29:37 GMT -5
Dark Matches
Match #1: KAWADA w/ Mr. Nobunaga vs. Mark "The Axe" Miller
Mark Miller and KAWADA both showed quite a bit of growth, their styles meshing quite interestingly here. KAWADA was the clear cut heel in the match, repeatedly delivering step face kicks to the Axe, and working his arm over constantly. The Dwight Gym graduate, Miller, was constantly on the verge of a comeback, his own martial arts training giving him a chance. Miller finally got on a roll late in the match, hitting an enzuigiri, his signature axe kick, and finally went for his top rope Axe Effect, but Mr. Nobunaga surprised him from behind with a kendo stick shot to the back, sending him stumbling off the top, right into a KAWADA Gamengiri which earned him the win.
Match #2: DNA vs. "Latin Lunatic" Pablo Lopez
Alger once again earned himself another quick victory here, when Lopez tried to hammer throw him right after the bell, Alger held his ground, reversing the attempt into his Bermuda Triangle for an extremely quick victory. Alger challenged Daniel Ness for an Openweight Title shot after the match, but the challenge went unanswered. DNA didn't appreciate that, challenging any member of the Corporate Club to face him next week.
Match #3: Brian Carnage vs. Wolf
This match was a total war. Carnage called for it to be no DQ before hand, and Wolf happily agreed. Carnage went on to put Wolf's head through a speaker at ring side, before putting a chair on top of the speaker, and leg dropping it all, smashing Wolf's head. He went then for an Asai Moonsault, but instead was caught by Wolf in mid air, who slammed his opponent into the ring apron. Fast forward a few minutes later, when Carnage reversed a Wolf chokeslam attempt into a Carnage Buster...and none other than Mr. Red interfered, blasting Carnage in the back of the head with an alumninium baseball bat. Red dropped his hat on Carnage's face, as Wolf got up, chasing him away from the ring. Carnage was still out when he returned, so Wolf made a quick and easy pin for the win.
(Everything is in...I think. Final draft work begins when I wake up.)
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:18:52 GMT -5
----------------------------------------------------- Match #1: Amori Aya vs. Selina Taylor ----------------------------------------------------- Match #2: Fallout Tag Titles: The Drinkin Boys vs. Radobar and El Loco ----------------------------------------------------- Match #3: Fallout TV Title: Jack Jefferson vs. Marcus Curtis ----------------------------------------------------- Match #4: OLYMPIA vs. Colossus Rhodes ----------------------------------------------------- Match #5: "Mr. #1 Contender," Sylvain Mint vs. Angelo Giovanni ----------------------------------------------------- This is a Halberd II Production…
Special Valentine’s Day Fallout!
…
Or not.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:19:11 GMT -5
Segment: Opening Hype (Credit: Senator)
As the show opens up, you guessed it, Biff Taylor is shown in his office, ready to start off the show.
Biff: Yeah, dudes and dudettes, it's time for the Fastest Hour on Television, the only wrestling show that truly delivers the goods, it's Fallout time, baby! We got a big show tonight, as Daniel Ness and Sylvain Mint will sign their match contract for the big Openweight Title defense next week, a match which promises to be the most earthshaking of all time! But before then, Mint will warm up against the brick wall of the Openweight division, Angelo Giovanni!
Out of nowhere, El Froggy Mask hops into the frame.
Froggy: Biff, Biff, tell the people that El Froggy Mask has an important announcement, one that the undeserving masses don't have the right to hear, but that I, El Froggy Mask let them hear anyway!
Froggy bounds out of the room, before Biff can yell at him for interuppting him on the air.
Biff: Anyway...yeah, now I forgot the rest of the card. Maybe I wrote it here on this paper...Stan Johnston, huh...his arm's healing up fast...nah, that's the medical reports. Ah, yeah! Here it is! OLYMPIA and the true Giant of the Corporate Club, Colossus Rhodes will clash, after the dastardly attack from last week, it's good to go now! Amori Aya continues her run on Fallout, as she takes on Selina Taylor, the Drinkin Bros have a Tag Title defense against two blasts from the past, and finally, the rematch you all wanted to see, but I didn't give it to you until now, but you now get to see it...yeah, it's Marcus Curtis returning to Fallout to face the dominant Jack Jefferson for the TV Title! And that's Fallout.
Fade Out
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:19:28 GMT -5
Match: Amori Aya vs Selina Taylor (Credit: Thunderkiss, THE ULTIMATE MALE)
Iris: This contest is scheduled for … ONE FALL! Making her way down to the ring, from Port Aux Basques, Newfoundland, This is Selina Taylor!
["Simple Survival" by Mushroomhead hits and Selina makes her way down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans. She enters the ring and jumps to the second turnbuckle, raising her arms to the fans.]
Iris: And her opponent, from Honshu, Japan, this is Amori Aya!
[As the sound crew slides “Henshin-yo!” into the PA system, the arena plunges into darkness. After a few moments, a beam of warm, golden light cascades down to the entrance, revealing a smiling Aya. Cheers immediately erupt--especially from her loyal fans from Japan--and the young Japanese youth strides confidently down to ringside, the upbeat tune of “Henshin-yo!” lighting up the mood in the arena considerably. Aya-chan poses in the center of the ring, bowing in thanks for the lovely reception.]
~!~DING~!~
Amori and Selina lock up in the middle of the ring and grapple back to the ropes! Aya pulls back and tries to use her momentum to take Selina down with a snapmare but Selina puts on the breaks and counters with a short armed clothesline! Aya hits the mat hard and Selina combos with a knee drop to Amori’s stomach! Aya covers up in pain and Taylor heads up to the top rope where she sets up for her elbow drop. As she measures Amori up, she sees the opening she needs and launches herself off the ropes! Amori rolls out of the way last second and Taylor hits the mat hard, knocking the wind out of her. Amori is quick to capitalize on Taylor’s mistake as she picks her up and tosses her into the corner! Aya comes in and blasts Selina with 10 hard right hands and Selina looks as if she is on dream street! She staggers out of the corner right into a wicked Savate Kick!
Dean Bardo: What excellent form!
R.J. Fisher: She got all of that one!
Amori makes the cover!
ONE! TWO! TH… KICK OUT!
Taylor shows it will take more than that to put her away and Amori is happy to oblige. Taylor is picked up and Amori calls for the Magic Jump! She hooks the back of Selina’s head and runs forward, but Taylor pulls off an excellent counter midair as she pulls Amori forward and into her arms for an inverted tornado DDT! Amori is planted and Taylor takes control of the match. She slaps on a sleeper hold using her legs and for the next few minutes, Amori struggles to retain consciousness. The crowd cheers for her and provides support but it doesn’t seem to be enough as she begins to fade into twilight. The ref checks Amori once as he raises her hand into the air and it falls back down. He does so a 2nd time – with the same result. One more time and Taylor brings home a win! The ref raises Aya’s arm but this time it doesn’t fall and Amori now uses everything she has to fight Taylor off of her!
R.J. Fisher: This girl has spunk Bardo!
Dean Bardo: I wont argue that. Her will to compete is second to none.
Aya pushes Selina’s legs off of her and then stands and turns towards Miss Taylor. Selina comes running in but Aya side steps and sends her flying into the ropes where she comes bouncing back for a KISS KISS! Taylor hits the mat and bounces right back up clutching her face in pain, leaving her open for the BANG BANG! Taylor is DOWN! The fans rise to their feet as they feel the end is near for Miss Taylor. Selina is picked up off the mat and Aya hooks her Russian Legsweep style!
R.J. Fisher: I think it might be time for some Candy … BABY!
Indeed it is! Amori nails her finisher and makes the cover!
ONE! TWO! THREE! ..::FALLOUT WINNER::..
~AMORI AYA~
Aya gets her hand raised and then eagerly bows to all her fans in attendance. She then quickly slips out of the ring while the crowd watches a replay of the match’s final moments on the big screen.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:20:07 GMT -5
Segment: Coming Soon To A Fallout Near You, Desu~ (Credit: Aya)
We fade in on a barren landscape somewhere in a desert. A falling star can be seen in the sky, but it is heading straight for the camera. As it gets closer, we cut away to a court room where Aya is dressed in a suit.
Aya: OBJECTION! HE ATE THE BONE!
The falling star is getting closer.
Aya is now kneeling in front of a box, with Eros next to her.
Eros: If we can’t disarm it, this whole building is coming down! Cut the red wire!
Aya: But there ARE NO WIRES!
The object is in the desert sky is getting closer, clearly more than a meteorite now.
Aya is now in a plane.
Aya: But I don’t want to!
Eros: If you stay on this plane, you endanger the world.
The object in the sky is extremely close now. As it nears, it fragments into ten identical discs. They stop and hover in place.
Eros: ALIENS?!
The screen goes black.
The words Aya’s Episode Three appear in big white text.
Aya herself then steps onto the screen.
Aya: Something I’ve learned is that American action movies are…interesting! Unfortunately you won’t see any of that in my next outing. But I promise not to disappoint! It’s coming soon!
She bows.
Fade.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:20:25 GMT -5
Segment: Teaser (Credit: Dalton) A moderately sized man is leaning against a brick wall, lights are dim, and a single light is shining on the man. He is cloaked in a shadow, wearing a long leather jacket along with sunglasses. This man looks at the floor, flipping a quarter repeatedly. He appears to be lost in thought, caring nothing of the world around him.
{The man looks up, removing the sunglasses. His eyes, abnormally dark, stare into the camera. He speaks; his voice is dark and slow, slightly raspy.}
Man: ACW. Im coming.
{Holding a second, the man keeps staring, before fading out to a black screen.}
[glow=orange,9,200]PJ Mills Coming Soon [/color][/glow][/center]
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:20:49 GMT -5
Match: Fallout Tag Team Championship Drinkin Boyz vs. Radobar and El Loco (Credit: XS3)
Radobar and El Loco are already in the ring as this contest is about to get underway.
Iris: "And their opponents, the current Fallout Tag Team Champions, from port Aux Basques, Newfoundland, Canada, at a combined weight of 714 lbs, they are the team of Ben and Afternoon Drinkin, the Drinkin Boyz!"
"On With the Show" by Motley Crue hits the arena and the crowd cheers as The Drinkin Boyz and Selina drive out onto the ramp in a vehicle similar to the General Lee. They exit the vehicle and slap hands with the fans before they enter the ring. Ben and Selina get on separate turnbuckles and raise their arms while Afternoon simply waits for the match to begin.
Bell rings.
Selina exits the ring, giving Ben a quick kiss to her fiancé, before he heads to the apron. Afternoon starts the match wit Radobar, who wastes no time in bull-rushing Afternoon. Of course, Afternoon just shrugs him off when he attempts an elbow smash. Ben and Selina cheer on their giant ally as he picks up Radobar by the hair and hip tosses him halfway across the ring. El Loco cringes from the apron as Afternoon tags in Ben. Selina smiles as Ben does a somersault leg drop to Radobar's throat at the same time Afternoon drops an elbow. Ben makes a cover but only gets a two count. Afternoon heads to the apron as Ben picks up Radobar, who counters with a jawbreaker and tags in El Loco.
El Loco throws a quick flurry of punches that connect with Ben's face before leaping up and knocking Ben down with a dropkick. El Loco covers but gets a two count. The demented one picks up Ben and goes to whip him into the corner. However, it turns out to be Ben's corner and once his back hits the turnbuckles, Afternoon sneaks in a blind tag and pushes Ben out of the corner. El Loco can't stop his charge and Afternoon clotheslines him from the apron before entering the ring. Radobar gets a clothesline to call his own and El Loco is whipped off the ropes, catching a big boot on the way back.
Ben signals for a tag and Afternoon wants to oblige him. However, Radobar delivers rapid-fire punches to Afternoon's midsection. El Loco joins in on the double-teaming and the two prepare Afternoon for a double suplex. There's just one problem: they can't lift the giant. Ben enters the ring and takes out Radobar with a running tornado DDT. Ben exits the ring and Afternoon goes behind El Loco, locking in the Molson Lock. With nowhere to go, El Loco frantically taps out.
Bell rings.
Iris: "And the winners of this match and still the Fallout Tag Team Champions, the Drinkin Boyz!"
Selina enters the ring and leaps into Ben's arms. Afternoon drops El Loco then grabs the tag titles and gives Ben his belt. The three raise each other's arms before leaving the ring together. They get into their General Lee and drive off to discuss Ben and Selina's future marriage.
Fade out.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:21:06 GMT -5
Segment: The Degenerate Generation (Credit: Hunter)
As we fade in, we find the full grown image of "The Rounder" Matt Doyle gently pacing through the halls of the Fallout Arena, deep in some sort of thought. After walking in a circle a few times, he scratches his beard and begins to walk in another direction, until eventually reaching the place that we had seen him at last week. He looks up at the bulletin board that has all of the matches on it, and after a few short moments, he turns away from it, shocked. He looks back desperately and begins to reread it, his finger guiding his path, and yet he is still completely shocked. He pulls back in anger and clenches his fist in rage.
Doyle: Where the fuck am I?!
Just as soon as he says this, another man approaches, and many of the Fallout fans recognize him as non-contracted talent "The Gambler" Nick Valentino. He peers at the board much like Doyle did, but his reaction is less violent, for he simply sighs, and then continues to fiddle around with the deck of playing cards in his hand. Doyle notices his expression, and his own turns to one of shock.
Doyle: You don't have a match either?
Valentino: Nope...but I've come to expect that.
Doyle: What the fuck kinda world do we live in?!
Valentino: Well it's not that big of a deal for me, I'm not even contracted. Most of the time I lose my matches anyway.
Doyle: That ain't no fucking way to talk, man! This goddamn company needs amazing talent like us, not a bunch of hop heads like Jack Jefferson or Angelo Giovanni!
The crowd boos at this statement, but it doesn't particularly matter, since Doyle wouldn't hear them anyway.
Valentino: You actually know who I am?
Doyle: ...no.
Valentino: So why are you---?
Doyle: Doesn't matter, all that does matter is that these pricks backstage don't understand talent when they see it.
Valentino: What's your problem with them?
Doyle: My problem is that they're a generation of degenerates, degenerating the generation by the degeneration of generations, generating their own degeneration to further degenerate our generation.
Pause, as Valentino looks at him with a heavily raised eyebrow.
Doyle: It sickens me.
Valentino: ...I...see.
Doyle shakes his head in an upset manner, then looks back at Valentino.
Doyle: Who'd you say you were again?
Valentino: I didn't. Name's---
Doyle: Well I'm "The Rounder" Matt Doyle! I see you've got a deck of cards there.
Valentino looks down at the cards that he is shuffling in his hand.
Valentino: Uh...yeah.
Doyle: You play the Game of Games?
Valentino: What, Hold 'Em?
Doyle: Of course you fucking fruit cake!
Valentino looks at him oddly.
Valentino: Yeah.
Doyle: Well you're looking at a real champion here, my friend. I'm the master of that game!
Valentino: Really?
Doyle smirks smugly.
Doyle: The five cards on the top of the deck are the eight of diamonds, the ace of spades, the king of clubs, the queen of hearts, and the three of spades.
Valentino picks up the five cards and shows them to Doyle: the seven of diamonds, the ten of spades, the jack of clubs, the five of hearts, and the four of hearts. Doyle looks at the cards blankly.
Doyle: Well they're somewhere in the deck.
Valentino: Whatever you say, man.
And with that, he turns to leave...before Doyle grabs his shoulder and stops him.
Doyle: Whoa, whoa, whoa...you're doubting me?
Valentino: In so many words.
Doyle: ...well fuck wrestling, it's game time, bitch!
Valentino: You want to play Hold 'Em now?
Doyle: Fuck yeah! Are you too chicken to go through with it!?
Valentino pauses for a moment.
Valentino: Fine, let's do it.
Doyle smiles, and then turns around, motioning for Valentino to follow him. Let the games begin.
Fade Out
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:21:21 GMT -5
TV Title Match – Last Man Standing: (Credit: Jack Jefferson/Marcus Curtis) Jack Jefferson(c) vs. Marcus Curtis
We are taken to inside the Fallout arena for the next match of the evening, a much hyped Last Man Standing Match between bitter enemies Jack Jefferson and Marcus Curtis with the added incentive of Jefferson’s gold being on the line. The camera does a brisk sweep of the arena, showing many anti-Jefferson banners, including one eye-catching example, hand-drawn and depicting Marcus Curtis holding the TV Title aloft. The camera lingers for a second on this fine example before cutting back to the ring where Iris is stood, mic in hand. She takes a couple breaths before smiling widely and raising the mic up to introduce the match, the fan noise dying significantly as she does so.
Iris: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Last Man Standing Match and is for the Fallout Television Title!!
The crowd pops for the match stipulation, partially for the potential of violence which will help to quench their bloodlust, and partially because the vast majority are in the hope that Jefferson will be seen as TV Champion for the very last time.
R.J Fisher: The fans clearly anticipating a great match here between the bitterest of rivals and I don’t think there’s any doubt who they want to take home the gold this evening.
Dean Bardo: No doubt about it Fisher, Curtis truly is a fan favourite here and Jefferson’s cheating methods and backstage antics surely haven’t done anything to endear him to the Fallout fans.
Fisher: Couldn’t agree more Dean, Jefferson has constantly attacked Curtis, managing to put him out for a number of weeks after that Fallaway Moonsault through our announcers table. He even went as far as setting the Kenyan flag alight during a week where Curtis was suspended as a result of Jefferson’s actions. And last week we saw maybe the most deplorable act yet, Jefferson breaking into Curtis’ home to steal Curtis’ only complete family photo. A photo he then tried to burn. It’s no surprise that he isn’t a fan favourite here on Fallout, the man is a nasty piece of work!
Predator: Now hold on there Fisher. Some people, including myself, would say that what Jefferson has done is very smart. He’s got into Curtis’ head which means he is able to have a degree of control over what happens between them. His actions are applaudable if anything, he’s just doing the smart thing to gain an advantage.
Iris: Introducing your challenger for this evening…he hails from Trenton New Jersey by way of Kenya…he weighed in this morning at 213 lbs…He is Marcus CURRRRTISSSSSSSS!!
The crowd go nuts as Curtis slowly walks his way to ringside, unlike his usual energetic entrance he keeps his eyes firmly focused on the ring and looks subdued as he slaps the hands of the fans. He slowly makes his way up the ring steps before jumping over the ropes. He climbs the nearest turnbuckle and raises his right arm aloft in a salute to the fans at ringside. Curtis then dismounts the buckle and stares at the entrance ramp in anticipation of Jefferson’s arrival.
Fisher: This appears to be a different Marcus Curtis we see in front of us, it seems that Jefferson’s recent actions have significantly focused this young man who seems a lot more serious than his normal self.
Bardo: Well Fisher, maybe that’s what he needs. We’ve seen Jefferson cheat on numerous occasions in order to hold onto this belt and I think it may just take all of Curtis’ focus to take it away from his here tonight.
Iris: And the champion…hailing from Manchester, England…he weighs in at 208 lbs…he is your Television Champion…Jack JEFFERSOONNNNNNN!!
The instant the opening notes of “Next Episode” by Dr Dre play through the speakers the fans rise to boo the current TV Champion. Jefferson struts through the curtain, a large smirk on his face and his Title Belt draped over his right shoulder. He saunters down the ramp, trading insults with various fans along the way. As he reaches the ring Jefferson catches the eye of Curtis who is now slowly wrapping his fists.
Fisher: There’s something we’ve not seen from Curtis so far during his Fallout tenure, taping the fists. Jefferson always comes to the ring with taped fists which he uses for illegal punches but this is the first time we’ve seen Curtis do the same. This is clearly a show of intent from the young Kenyan.
Jefferson climbs into the ring and gets eyeball-to-eyeball with Curtis until, Fallout Senior Official, Jacob Jones steps between them and holds up the title as both competitors look on. He calls for the ring bell and Jefferson and Curtis circle each other cautiously, each knowing the other pretty well by now. Curtis is the first to move forward but Jefferson seems reluctant to do things on his terms and instead leaps out of the ring, much to the chagrin of the Fallout faithful who boo and jeer him. He waits for the referee to order Curtis to back up before sliding back in and, with a huge smirk on his face, locks up instantly with his foe. They struggle back and forth for a couple of seconds before Curtis knocks away his right arm, simultaneously applying a Wrist Lock on the left. Jefferson attempts to punch Curtis in the face but it’s blocked as he wrenches on his wrist. Jefferson grimaces in pain but tries once again to punch Curtis, who simply wrenches harder on his arm, flipping him onto his back. With Jefferson on his back Curtis, who is still holding onto the Wrist-Lock stomps on his arm, around the shoulder area causing Jefferson to screw his face up in pain. Curtis does this twice more before releasing Jefferson’s arm and gesturing to the cheering fans.
Bardo: A very nice sequence of moves from Curtis right there, showing just how you can use some of the basic holds to great advantage.
Fisher: Right you are Dean; and the fans clearly love it too, just listen to that reaction.
Curtis the turns his attention back to Jefferson, who is on the mat clutching his shoulder, and drags him to his feet. Curtis hits a series of Forearms, driving Jefferson back into a corner, Curtis then lifts him up onto the top rope and walks to the centre of the ring. He then motions to the crowd, who begin a build-up cheer which is getting louder all the time, before running towards the ropes, springboarding off the middle and hitting an Ace Crusher on the powerless Jefferson. At least, that would have been the idea. Unfortunately Jefferson is able to avoid the Ace Crusher and Curtis is left to crash and burn, taking a large back bump.
Fisher: Ouch! That had to hurt! Curtis crashing and burning right there as Jefferson manages to dodge. If he’d have pulled that one off I think Jefferson could have been in trouble. With Curtis on his back Jefferson seizes the opportunity, hitting a Moonsault Leg Drop. An angry look crosses Curtis’ face, clearly he knows it was too early for him to go for such a big move.
Fisher: I get the feeling he’s not too happy with himself after that one!
Bardo: I can’t blame him Fisher, it appears he got caught up in the moment and subsequently got caught out trying to go too big, too early. He is usually extremely good at building up to the big moves and he’ll need to refocus and stick to the original game plan from now on.
Jefferson springs quickly to his feet as Curtis gets to his on the opposite side of the ring. The two men lock-up again and Jefferson gets into position for a Suplex; Curtis, however, resists but is taken over when Jefferson stamps on his feet and instantaneously follows it with a Snap Suplex. Jefferson’s smirk tells the story of how he feels about winning that particular exchange and the fans show theirs as he poses cockily for them. As he turns his attention back to his opponent, Jefferson’s jaw meets Curtis’ boot which is on the end of a perfectly placed Superkick.
Fisher: BAM! That kick came out of nowhere and it was right on the money! Jefferson seems rather shaken by that and I’m sure he’ll think twice about posing so freely from now on.
Jefferson rolls quickly out of the ring clutching his jaw but Curtis quickly follows him out, knocking him over with a Running Forearm to the back of the head; he rolls him back in.
As Curtis climbs onto the apron, Jefferson bounces off the ropes on the opposite side, having risen and set of running in one fluid motion, he charges at Curtis and connects with a Running Dropkick which propels Curtis into the guard-rail, causing a uniform gasp throughout the arena. Jefferson, however, seems much less affected as he climbs onto the turnbuckle to strike his trademark pose whilst smugly smiling down on Curtis; the ref begins his count…
…1
Fisher: Curtis could be in real trouble here, his back connected hard with that guard-rail.
Bardo: I’m sure Curtis is resilient enough to get up here but he’ll have to be careful from now on. Jack Jefferson is extremely proficient in picking out a body part and focusing on it to great effect. I’m sure he’ll be going after Curtis’ back from now on.
…2
Curtis begins to get a hold of the guard rail, clutching his back as he does so.
…3
…4
Curtis pulls himself to his feet and the fans simultaneously get to theirs to clap and chant his name; Jefferson seems less than pleased with this development and hops down from the turnbuckle to rolls out of the ring. He gets up in Curtis’ face yelling abuse which he gets straight back. The two trade insults for a couple more seconds before Jefferson effectively shuts Curtis up with a Knife-Edged Chop to the chest, Curtis recoils before striking back with his own which draws a loud “WOOOO!” from the fans. Jefferson proceeds to hit back with a chop of his own, and Curtis follows suit. This chop-trade lasts approximately 1 minute before Jefferson knocks Curtis to the ground with a surprise European Uppercut before smirking and tapping his index finger off his temple to announce to the world that he is an intelligent wrestler. The fans denounce this show of cockiness vocally, booing loudly, but this only seems to fuel the width of Jefferson’s smug grin.
Bardo: A great series of chops right there but I think Jefferson should spend less time posing and more time actually wrestling. Surely by now he knows how good a performer Marcus Curtis is. Underestimating him would be downright foolish.
Jefferson leans down to pick Curtis up but is blocked by a punch to the midriff. He tries again but Curtis punches him once more, rising to a knee then to his feet. He fires off a vicious chop to the chest of Jefferson then hits a Snap Suplex before rolling into the ring. Jefferson, frustrated, gets to his feet and begins to search under the ring, eventually pulling out a chair and sliding into the ring holding it.
Fisher: I get the feeling things are about to get real bad, real fast.
Before Jefferson has the opportunity to rise Curtis stomps on his back, forcing him to release his grip on the chair. Curtis pulls him to his feet and hooks his arms before lifting him up for a Stalling Butterfly Suplex which narrowly avoids connecting on the chair. Curtis gives Jefferson no time to rest, instead hauling him to his feet and Irish Whipping him into the corner. Curtis charges but Jefferson counters by slipping through the ropes and grabbing Curtis’ head. He leaps off the apron and drives Curtis’ throat onto the top rope, upon seeing this the crowd fall deathly ill. Curtis lets out a sickening choking noise as he falls back clutching his throat, and continues to gasp for air whilst on the mat. Jacob Jones goes to attend to him.
Fisher: That was brutal! I really don’t like the look of this.
Bardo: Curtis could be in serious trouble here. If his oesophagus has been crushed he’ll need instant medical attention.
Jefferson, seemingly amused by this turn of events allows his grin to turn into a grimace as he stalks over to Iris, snatching her mic.
Jefferson: Hey, Jones! What do you think you’re doing?!
He pauses for a second as Jones explains that he is making sure Curtis is okay, only to be cut off as Jefferson speaks once more.
Jefferson: Blah, blah, blah! I don’t care! Just do your job and start counting, unless you want the same treatment!
Jones knows he has no choice, and begins to count…
…ONE
Fisher: What the hell?! Does this man have no conscience? Marcus Curtis could be seriously hurt here and all he cares about is the count?!
…TWO
Predator: What the hell are you talking about Fisher?! The man has a valid point. This is a wrestling match, a wrestling match for the Fallout TV Title. He should have started the second Curtis hit the mat!
…THREE
…FOUR
Fisher: This is a disgusting sight, Curtis is on the mat gasping for air and it appears that nothing is to be done to help him.
…FIVE
Predator: Oh quit your whining, he’ll get all the help he needs once he loses the match.
…SIX
…SEVEN
Marcus Curtis begins, to the astonishment of everyone, crawling to the ropes.
Fisher: Will he? Will he?!
…EIGHT!
Curtis begins to pull himself up and slumps momentarily over the middle rope.
…NINE!!
Curtis, with one huge last effort hauls himself to his feet and the crowd erupts as referee Jacob Jones signals to the time keeper that it was a Nine-Count. Outside the ring, Jefferson looks furious and hurls the mic to the floor.
Fisher: He HAS!! HE HAS!!!
Bardo: A true show of heart and resilience from Marcus Curtis right there, that shows exactly what he is made of.
Curtis stands in the centre of the ring glaring at Jefferson, his eyes blazing. He bares his teeth and then charges, diving through the ropes and tumbling into the stationary figure of his opponent. Curtis quickly dives on top of Jefferson, raining down punches which he is effortless to block.
Fisher: It seems like Curtis has snapped! He’s not exactly playing by the rules anymore. This is the first time we’ve ever seen him strike with a closed fist and, by god, he’s not doing things by halves is he?!
Curtis drags the stunned Jefferson to his feet and takes a hold of the back of his head. He points towards the turnbuckle post and the crowd cheer, he then sprints forward, with Jefferson is tow, and proceeds to drive his head directly into the post. Jefferson slumps to the floor, blood pouring out a wound on his head and Curtis climbs into the ring, breathing heavily as if a relieved. Jones begins the count…
…ONE
Fisher: Oh my god! He’s bust wide open! He’s lying in a pool of blood and I’m not sure whether he’ll be getting up from that!
…TWO
Bardo: That was as brutal as we’ve ever seen Marcus Curtis but the crowd don’t seem to be complaining, just listen to those chants.
…THREE
The crowd chant “Curtis bomaye!” repeatedly, quoting the famous scene from Muhammad Ali’s life.
…FOUR
Fisher: I have never heard anything like this! The crowd are going wild as Curtis raises his arms for them. I think, as they clearly do, that we’re going to have a new champion crowned just six seconds from now!
…FIVE
….SIX
Fisher: Still no signs of life from Jefferson, is this the end of his reign as Fallout TV Champion?!
…SEVEN
Jefferson finally begins to stir, clutching his head as he sits up but instantaneously flops back down.
…EIGHT!
He rises to a kneeling position, holding himself steady using the ring-post.
Fisher: He’s up to a knee! Surely he can’t beat the count and manage to stay in this one?!
…NINE!!
Jefferson pushes up and sways dizzyingly, rocking backwards and forwards. The crowd begin to chant “Fall, fall, fall!” knowing full well that if he goes down he will end his reign as TV Champion.
…T--NO!!! Jefferson steadies himself on the ringpost in a standing position. Curtis looks stunned as Jones signals a Nine-Count and the crowd’s mood turn sour quicker than milk on a summer’s day.
Fisher: OH MY GOD!! How in God’s name did he get up from that?! Look at him! He’s covered in his own blood!
Jefferson takes a minute to regain his senses, looking down to see the amount of blood he has poured all over himself. He lurches forward as he tries to step and almost topples, the blood-loss clearly having an effect, but eventually composes himself and rolls into the ring.
Bardo: I’m not exactly sure how he is standing. It would be illegal to donate the amount of blood he’s left on the floor tonight.
Curtis and Jefferson square off, Curtis still seems unable to believe that Jefferson is standing and this allows Jefferson to slap him hard across the face and lift him up for a Fisherman Buster. Jefferson sways, stumbling around the ring as he struggles to hold Curtis’ weight. Eventually he finds his mark, dropping Curtis head-first onto the steel chair with a sickening thud. With both men down Jones begins to count…
…ONE!
…TWO!
…THREE!!
Fisher: I don’t think either man will be getting up from this one!
…FOUR!!
…FIVE!!
…SIX!!!
…SEVEN!!!
Both men begin to move, each clutching their respective heads whilst dragging themselves to the ropes.
…EIGHT!!!
Jefferson is the first to the ropes, somehow hauling himself up before the Eight-Count, whilst Curtis is scrabbling away at the bottom rope.
…NINE!!!!
Curtis hauls himself to his knees, resting on the middle rope and then pulls up from that position to standing via the top rope. The crowd erupt in a series of cheers as he raises an arm to them and Jefferson snarls in his direction.
Fisher: How the HELL are they doing this?! I can’t believe what I’m seeing here!
Bardo: A truly superhuman effort from both these men. By all rights they should each be lying down for much more than a Ten-Count.
Jefferson charges at Curtis, connecting with a Running Lariat which sends Curtis straight back down to the mat. He hauls him to his feet and whips him into the corner where he stands, limp. Jefferson then lifts him onto his shoulder and, shakily, ascends the turnbuckle. His left foot slips off the middle rope and the crowd gasp but he steadies himself, turning around to face the ring.
Fisher: Surely he can’t be thinking what I think he is!
Jefferson poses for a split second before leaping, he comes down and connects with a Fire Thunder Driver, one of his “Power Finisher” moves, which drives Curtis’ head into the now-mangled steel chair with a ridiculous amount of force. The crowd are silenced as the thump echoes throughout the arena and various “Oh…my…GOD!”s can be heard as they notice that Curtis’ head is now also spewing blood. Jones begins to count…
…ONE!
…TWO!
…THREE!!
Fisher: Jesus Christ! Get the EMTs on standby, both men will be needing them by the looks of it. I am totally speechless, I really don’t know how to articulate my feelings at this very moment!
…FOUR!!
…FIVE!!
Jefferson rolls out of the ring and uses the apron to get to his feet, much to the chagrin of the nearby fans, one of who throws a plastic bottle in his direction.
…SIX!!
Jefferson rolls back into the ring and upon seeing Curtis’ blood a sick smile paints itself on his face.
…SEVEN!!!
He stands over the lifeless body of Curtis and strikes his trademark pose, a wide smirk on his face.
…EIGHT!!!
The smirk, however, is wiped straight off as Curtis begins to move. The fans cheer upon seeing this sign of life and begin chanting his name over and over again.
Fisher: Marcus Curtis CANNOT be human! There is NO WAY he can get up from this!!
Curtis, clutching the ropes drags himself to one knee.
…NINE!!!!
He begins to pull himself up but falters, falling back down to a knee again. Jefferson’s smug smile returns as the belief he has won washes over him.
TE--NO!!!!!! Curtis hauls himself to his feet and Jefferson’s face falls to the floor. The crowd go wild, beginning a “Let’s go Curtis!” chants as he staggers in an attempt to steady himself.
Fisher: My god!! He’s up! How the HELL is he doing this?! The crowd are practically having a party and Jefferson looks like he’s fit to kill!
Jefferson scowls and grabs a hold of Curtis, spinning him around and hitting an Enziguri which knocks him back down to the mat. He then drags Curtis over to the corner and lays him across it sideways. He climbs onto the middle ropes before glaring at all the fans, who seem to pale under his gaze, the noise dying significantly. There is a uniform intake of air as Jefferson extends his arm, his index finger pointing at the Announcer’s table.
Fisher: Oh good God no! He can’t do this! The last time he did this Curtis was out for weeks but he was nowhere near this beat-up, this could end his career, or worse!
Jefferson lifts Curtis up and climbs to the top rope, turning his back on where he intends to jump. Predator, Fisher and Bardo waste no time in vacating their table to get out of the way. Jefferson poses for a second, however, as he does so Curtis begins to fight back, twisting his body so his feet are on the top rope and he is the one holding Jefferson. He then, with great effort, hoists Jefferson onto his shoulders and wastes no time leaping to the outside. It’s like time slows down, the audience noise becoming distant and distorted, as Curtis twists Jefferson in mid-air, putting him into the landing position of the Harambee (Michinoku Driver II). They go crashing through the table and there is silence, you could hear a pin drop. The commentary team all stand looking on, mouthes wide open and eyes bulging for what they have just witnessed. Jones leans over the ropes and begins to count, the fans joining in…
… “ONE”!!
… “TWO”!!
… “THREE”!!
… “FOUR”!!!
… “FIVE”!!!
… “SIX”!!!
… “SEVEN”!!!!
… “EIGHT”!!!!
Amongst the wreckage, that was once an announcer’s table, Curtis begins to move.
… “NINE”!!!!
Curtis clutches to the guard-rail to haul himself, with an almighty effort, to his feet.
… “TEN”!!!!!
There is silence for a second as the fans take in what number they just shouted and then they blow the roof off with a deafening noise! Referee Jacob Jones climbs out of the ring and takes the Fallout TV Title belt from the timekeeper and hands it to a stunned Marcus Curtis whilst simultaneously raising his hand.
Amidst all the jubilation, Iris makes her announcement…
Iris: Your winner, and NEW Fallout Television Champion……Marcus CUUUUUUURRRRRRTTTIIIIISSSSSSSS!!!
The fans go wild as the result is made official and streamers fill the ring where Curtis is now standing, his newly won title held aloft and a huge grin plastered across his bloody face. Jefferson still isn’t moving and EMTs rush down the ramp to attend to him, however, the fans have apparently forgotten about him as the “Marcus Curtis!” chants ring loud and clear.
Fade to Black
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:21:40 GMT -5
Segment: All Out (Credit: Hunter)
As we fade in following the last commercial break, we are treated to a glimpse of a large green table, on which there are many random objects, including glasses of whiskey, playing cards, and poker chips. The poker chips seem to be evenly divided between the left and the right sides, and upon zooming out one can make out the shapes of Nick Valentino and Matt Doyle sitting on either side of the table, random amounts of chips in hands. Various members of the Fallout locker room are standing around the table, chattering amongst themselves. Doyle rubs his chin slightly before throwing in a few chips.
Doyle: Raise you another two hundred.
Valentino looks at his cards once more, very carefully, and then looks at Doyle...and nods.
Valentino: I'll call it.
Doyle: Excellent. Throw it out, Froggy Man!
El Froggy Mask nods from the head of the table, and then puts a fourth card down on the table. Now on the table are the queen of hearts, the queen of diamonds, the eight of diamonds, and then three of diamonds.
Doyle: Check.
Valentino throws in a few chips.
Valentino: Raise you three hundred.
The crowd murmurs amongst itself...but Doyle smirks.
Doyle: I know you ain't got shit. I raise you FIVE hundred.
Valentino: I call.
The above is stated before Doyle can even throw his chips in, and so the chips of the two men fly in simultaneously. El Froggy Mask puts down the last card: a two of diamonds.
Doyle: Heh...I'm going all in on your ass, motherfucker!
Valentino looks at Doyle, and then looks at the huge amount of chips that he is pushed into the center of the table. He then looks back at the five cards on the table, and smiles.
Valentino: I'll call that too.
And with that, he pushes in all of his chips, and both men rise as the Fallout locker room looks at them in anticipation. Doyle throws over his cards and reveals a king of diamonds and a ten of diamonds.
Doyle: Flush, bitch! I whupped your ass!
He grabs all of the chips and begins to pull them to him, but Valentino grabs his arm and shakes his head. He then throws over his cards: the queen of clubs and the queen of spades. Doyle's eyes widen.
Valentino: Four of a kind.
Doyle looks up at Valentino, his entire face quivering.
Valentino: I believe, actually, that I whupped your ass.
And with that, he pulls all of the chips towards him, and then collects them in a small bag. The Fallout wrestlers all begin to slowly file out of the room, congratulating Valentino before disappearing altogether. After a few moments, the only ones left in the room are Doyle and Valentino. Doyle pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, and then writes something down, which catches the eye of Valentino.
Valentino: What is that?
Doyle: My "Mortal Enemies List."
Valentino slowly raises his eyebrow as Doyle thrusts the piece of paper in his face.
Doyle: You see that, motherfucker!? That's you! You're ranked in my top three of mortal enemies!
Valentino reads over the paper.
Valentino: I'm behind chemistry and Poughkeepsie?
Doyle: YES, motherfucker!
Valentino: Well, my name's not "the cocksucker who beat me in Hold 'Em." It's---
Doyle: Fuck off and die in a dog shit filled pit you goddamn hippie punk!
And with that, Doyle charges off. To say that this is a..."unique" feud is a bit of an understatement. Valentino simply shakes his head, collects the remainder of the chips, and leaves the room. He doesn't know what'll happen next, nor does he care. He doesn't see Doyle as much of a threat. But when Doyle is determined to defeat someone, he usually can. So perhaps there is a reason to be worried after all...
Fade Out
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:21:59 GMT -5
Match: OLYMPIA vs. "Immovable Object" Colossus Rhodes (Credit: Senator)
As the show returns from the commercials, OLYMPIA is seen in the ring, readying himself for quite a challenge.
R.J. Fisher: Welcome back from the break...
Predator: We're about to see a little golden covered twig break. This so-called athletic competition is a travesty.
Dean Bardo: Anyway, OLYMPIA and Colossus Rhodes were supposed to face each other last week, but instead, Skurai attacked Rhodes backstage, knocking him unconcious, and opening a big cut on his head. OLYMPIA is known for being able to accompish superhuman deeds, but the match tonight, even against a weakened Rhodes will be a true test of his abilities.
The bell rings, as OLYMPIA stares up at his gargauntuan opponent. Rhodes cracks his knuckles, as he returns the stare, regarding OLYMPIA as little more than a grasshopper in his path. The Immovable Object slowly cuts off the ring, trying to trap OLYMPIA into a corner, as he slowly walks forward. The former TV Champion, however, rolls through his opponent's legs, running back off the ropes, shooting into a low angle front dropkick to the knee. Rhodes sees the move coming, lifting his leg up to avoid damage to his knee, and brings it straight down. OLYMPIA rolls out of the way just in time, and goes to the apron. Colossus Rhodes, while certainly slow, has surely improved on his ring sense and quickness since his debut on Fallout. As such, he catches his opponent on the apron, with a ferocious double hand choke, throttling the Golden Warrior. Referee Cliff Mortimer chastises Rhodes for keeping the hold on, leading the Immovable Object to toss his opponent into the ring. OLYMPIA is known for his amazing agility, and takes full advantage of it at this moment, using the momentum of the over-the-ropes toss to execute a front flip into the ring, landing on his feet, sprinting back off the far ropes, stopping himself from rebounding, instead motioning for Rhodes to attack.
Pred: Utterly cocky, he'll be squashed like the bug that he is.
Bardo: And you'd do better, I presume.
Pred: Of course.
Bardo: Hopeless.
Rhodes does indeed decide to go on the attack, charging OLYMPIA, but the smaller opponent ducks the running lariat attempt, before jumping off the ropes with a dropkick, blasting the Immovable Object in the leg. The largest member of the Corporate Club does not fall, only staggering back for a few steps. Rhodes tries to hit a big boot, but this time, OLYMPIA evades the move, swinging through the ropes, and taking the giant down to one knee with a Tiger Feint Kick to the support leg.
Fisher: Woah, Nelly! OLYMPIA just brought down Colossus Rhodes! Simply astounding!
The Superstar from the 5th Dimension realizes that he managed to gain a rare advantage, immediately following up with repeated European uppercuts, blasting the kneeling Colossus Rhodes right in his bandaged forehead with a constant flow of strikes. Rhodes, though, seems nearly impervious to the blows, finally catching OLYMPIA’s arm, and rises up, lifting his opponent into a neck and leg lock hold...
Bardo: He’s going for his deadly Titan Breaker finisher, if he hits that, Dr. Trace Gibson’s services will be required out here.
Rhodes throws his opponent into the air…but OLYMPIA manages to twist out of the grip beforehand, somehow landing instead into a front facelock. Normally, OLYMPIA would have either hit a DDT or gone to the mat with that particular counter, but in this case, Rhodes instead simply stands his ground, with his opponent dangling from his neck, the 5’11 OLYMPIA’s feet not even touching the mat. The Immovable Object locks on a bearhug, forcing OLYMPIA to break off from his own submission attempt, with Cliff Mortimer rushing over to check on the situation. OLYMPIA, however, shows a previously unseen level of ferocity, as he rips the bandage off of Rhodes's head, hitting him flush in the forehead with a headbutt, which breaks the bearhug.
Fisher: My goodness! OLYMPIA is showing no mercy to Colossus Rhodes!
Pred: Morelike, that Power Ranger wannabe is benefiting from the benevolent mercy of the kindhearted Colossus Rhodes.
Bardo: Predator...you are a moron.
OLYMPIA hops over to the apron, and before anyone can so much as react, he leaps off, springing into his flip neckbreaker, the Space Fusion Cannon! Rhodes is down, and OLYMPIA covers...
...1
...2
...Rhodes kicks out, barely...but in doing so, he grasps OLYMPIA by the throat, slowly standing up.
Bardo: This could be a devistating fall forward double hand chokeslam press, the Colossus Press, which OLYMPIA can not withstand.
Rhodes hoists OLYMPIA up...but the spectacular lucha styled star kicks his legs up, somehow managing to use the momentum of the lift to break the grip, spring over his opponent's head, into a scissored sleeper hold. Rhodes remains on his feet, lumbering around the ring, trying to rid himself of the increasingly annoying pest on his back.
Fisher: Shades of the Dread Pirate Roberts!
Pred: Huh?
Bardo: You really are an ignorant one, are you not?
Pred: Hmph.
The Immovable Object seems to be weakening, knowing that somehow, some way, this little one hundred and seventy pound dynamo has managed to wear him down, wear him out, and now is threatening to take him out. That is fully unacceptable, as as such, Rhodes rushes into one of the corners, back first...but OLYMPIA manages to kick his feet up, landing on the top of the post, while keeping the sleeper locked in. Rhodes stumbles out of the corner, and it appears that the giant is actually, amazingly, starting to fade out on his feet. Rhodes waves his arms, dropping to his knees, as OLYMPIA applies even more pressure...cutting off the blood supply to the head...and Rhodes drops his arms limp as a noodle.
Cliff Mortimer raises the massive arm up once...and it drops.
He raises it again...and it falls again.
A third time, the arm is held up...and a third time...
...The arm falls back down.
Iris: Your winner, OLYMPIIIIIAAAAAA!
Pred: No, no, no, no, I didn't just see some little scrawny scrub just beat the Immovable Object.
Bardo: No, because you were covering your eyes at the time.
Fisher: That was incredible! This match will go down in the books as the most incredible upset victory in the history of Fallout! What a match, what a finish, what a true star that OLYMPIA is! Overcoming adversity, and doubts, he surely made a name for himself here tonight among the ranks of the Fallout elite!
Bardo: Yeah, but what happens when Rhodes awakens...
Fade Out
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:22:26 GMT -5
Flashback Segment: The Firing (Credit: Lambert)
Dammit Fisher! The Mission is over!-Irving Lambert
December 29: 2006; 23:14
The screen flashes onto a black boot walking along through a dark room, making clip-clop sounds.
The camera pans out onto the tall, looming figure of Ross Lambert, he walks up the path and behind Ross you can see a blood-red Kawasaki Ninja ZX-14 with a helmet perched on the seat.
The camera flips around and you can see 2 security guards standing by an elevator. The current area is a parking lot but is completely empty, this is the civilian lot.
SG-1: Move along buddy, you need security clearance to get through here.
Ross: My name is Ross. S. Lambert. If you don’t let me through I will have the head of the NSA down here, I’m here for a meeting with him.
SG-2: OK we just need an ID or something.
Ross fumbles in his pocket before pulling out a small ID card, he shows it to the guards who peer in.
SG-1: OK man, you’re good to go.
The first security guard spins around and opens the elevator door. Ross steps in and you can see he’s looking slightly nervous. The elevator rises and you can see from a Security Camera the giant iron box slowly moving upwards.
Back inside the lift, the door cracks open into an office, you can see lot’s of people doing work and walking around. On sight of Ross Lambert a fairly old guy walks up to him.
Old Guy: Hey Lambert! I just spoke to James and you’re in some SERIOUS shit man.
Ross: I’m OK, James wouldn’t fire me would he?
Old Guy: Iunno man, the fact that you almost killed the gun dealer you were torturing…
Ross: That’s my style, he’s used to it.
Old Guy: OK whatever man, just try not to lose your cool, he’s already get pissed off.
Ross: Thanks for the tip.
Ross walks down along a corridor until reaching a large door with the name “James Donneley, Head of the NSA”. He opens the door and inside is a fairly nice office with Italian lighting, a tiger rug and many other things.
Ross: Donneley, you wanted to see me?
James: Yeah I did Ross, take a seat.
Ross: I’d prefer to stand.
James: Whatever floats your boat. I’m assuming you know why you’re here?
Ross: The Ivan Nakariakov case?
James: No, but that is something I wanted to talk about. Listen Ross, I respect the hell out of you, you saved my ass more than once in Operation: Lockdown back in 2000. But… your mission in Congo…
Ross: Ohhh hell. Is this about Eric Hashvitz dying?
James: Yes. Yes it is.
Ross: I swear to God that wasn’t me.
James: Your hand prints were ALL. OVER. THE GUN.
Ross: I told you a thousand times already that it was in a roller-brawl.
James: Oh yeah so your finger magically got on the trigger and fired off, killing the president of Congo?
Ross: NO! I fucking told you! I dived in to see the rifle on the ground, picture perfect view, I examined it and the sniper saw me coming and we rolled around punching each other in, I beat him down and tried to disable the sniper but he lurched forward and pulled the trigger WHILE WEARING gloves. Hashvitz died and it’s the end of the story, I took out the sniper with a knee to the face and brough the rifle back.
James: We have footage of the incident, and DON’T SNAP AT ME. We could be on the brink of war! This is the footage.
He pulls out a remote and pressed a button, a TV slowly lowers itself from the ceiling, it flicks on and it shows a guy in a mask behind the rifle, same building, at the other side of the scope it shows Hasvitz in a car, it shows the masked figure squeezing off a shot and then it cuts back to Hasvitz getting shot.
James: SEE! The footage doesn’t lie, and I know for a fact that that’s you wearing standard issue NSA gear.
Ross: You stupid MORON! That’s 2 video’s which have been construed together, that was the footage from my first trip there, when I was sent after Mr. Malungah,
James: No, Mr. Malungah didn’t die, and I know for a fact that I didn’t give you that mission.
Ross: Mr. Malungah DID die, and it was a CIA job.
James: Oh so the CIA told you to kill Hasvitz?
Ross: I didn’t kill Hashvitz DAMMIT!
James: Well I’m sorry Ross but I’m afraid I’m gonna’ have to f-…
Ross: WHAT?! FIRE ME?! Don’t even bother! I QUIT! And before I go Donneley, mark my fucking words. I am NOT going to work for this corrupt government a DAY LONGER. You send me to the most despicable crap holes in the world and think you can fire me peacefully? I’ll have you know this, one day Mr. Donneley I WILL change this country and for the better. ROSS. LAMBERT. Remember my name.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:22:43 GMT -5
Ross sucker punches James in the face, he spins around and hits a diving kick to the door knocking it down, a sense of alert flies around as some pencil pushers enter the room to see James getting up.
James: AFTER THEM!
Alarms fly off everywhere as security guards pull out guns. One guy pulls out a Desert Eagle and pops off a shot at Ross but he dives down as it whizzes over his head. He leaps over to the elevator to find it’s coming up, he storms off in the other way as bullets whiz over his head, he combat rolls out of the way and ducks into another office block. The alarms are still going and Ross is panicking a little, he flips over a cubicle wall into an office to see a mid-20’s woman looking at questionable pictures on her computer.
Ross: You help me out of here lady and you won’t get busted.
Woman: Uhh… ok…
Ross pulls out a glock and points up. The woman stands up before ducking down.
Woman: There’s a patrol heading down the line now, when I see I want you to run down the aisle and duck into the 3rd cubicle on the right.
Ross: I’ve got a better idea. You’re coming with me.
Woman: What?
Ross: You’ll be fine, I’m not gonna’ hurt you, well maybe a little.
A sadistic grin spreads across Ross’s face as he grabs the woman by wrapping his arm around her neck, he drags her down to the aforementioned cubicle as the guards come down to see the woman’s cubicle.
Guard 1: A worker is missing.
Guard 2: No biggie, it’s nearly break-time.
Guard 1: It’s odd, Rachelle NEVER takes time-off.
Guard 2: Odd, I’ll go down the lunch hall and check it out.
Guard 3: Sir, I’ll go with him.
Guard 1: YEAH! Sure guys, leave me alone with a psychopath!
The 2 guards walk out as the guard inspects cubicles, he walks past their cubicle and Ross pulls out the woman and storms down the corridor pulling her by her hand. Another buzzer goes off.
Alarm Voice: WARNING. INTRUDER SPOTTED ON CAMERA IN OFFICE BLOCK, HE HAS A HOSTAGE.
The guard spins around as the other 2 guards race back in. The near-by lift makes a ding noise. All men draw their guns as Ross points the gun at the girls head. The lift door opens and out comes 2 more guards. He backs slowly to the window with the girl, he forces the girl to open the window and backs out onto the outer-windowsill, 20 stories into the air.
Guard: Where are you going?
Ross: OUT!
He fires the gun over the guards head and kicks the girl into them, he shouts out behind him.
Ross: Thanks for the help Rach!
Ross leaps over the edge of the window, the guard all storm over.
Guard 1: Good as dead. The guards all flock away, as it shows Ross falling. He sees pipe and tries to grab it to slow himself down but burns his hand, he sees a rope from a window-cleaner and uses that to slow him down, his hands are burning red raw but he’s OK. He slowly slides down the rope past windows and on the way down he sees a young office guy making out with his secretary, only to have his wife storm in.
As he continues he reaches the extension to the building, the car-park, he drops off the ropes and falls through the sky-light roof, he hops onto his bike and drives at full-speed as the guards try to shut the gate down, it’s moving pretty fast but Ross powers down under it before setting himself right and speeding off into the night yelling out behind him one phrase.
America WILL CHANGE.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:23:04 GMT -5
Segment: ...Match? (Credit: Lambert)
Bardo: Well we’ve seen a GREAT show here tonight but we’ve been informed there’s a match which hasn’t been announced to take place!
Fisher: Yeah! I’ve heard about it too, I wonder who it’s going to be!
Bardo: Iunno but it should be a good match. At least I hope it is!
My Name Is by Eminem hits as Franchise comes out to total silence minus his music. He raises both arms and pulls an angry face and walks down to the ring.
Fisher: So much for a good match huh?
Iris: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, introducing first, from Flint, Michigan. He is…. FRAAANNCHIISSEEE!!!!
He climbs into the ring. He takes the mic off of Iris Yoon and yells.
Franchise: TAHNAYTE! I want a one-on-one match with any of you retards backstage. Come on out if you DARE! Come on! Aren’t any of you going to fight me?
There’s silence as the crowd begin to laugh.
Franchise: Oh so you’re all afraid huh? Well you know what? Maybe you guys are all just too stupid to see that I’M DA BEST! Well y’know what? Fine? I’ll just consider it a win fo-…
Falling Away From Me by KoRn hits as out steps the most pissed off Ross Lambert carrying a microphone in his hand.
Ross: You’re the best huh? Well I might not be a retard but I’m sure as hell accepting your challenge!
Bardo: WOAH! I think Franchy got a little more than he bargained for here!
Ross runs down and slides into the ring, Franch tries to go under the top rope but Ross kicks Franch in the gut and pulls him back in. He stamps on his head rapidly and is about to hit a leg-drop and is lifting his leg up but has a change of heart. He pulls Franchy up and slaps him across the face to wake him up.
Ross: TRY YOUR F TO THE U!
The crowd begin to laugh at Ross’s confidence, Franchise attempts to lift up Ross and it takes Ross jumping to get it going, Franch tries to throw him over but Franchise collapses and gets smashed face-first into the mat.
Fisher: Well that didn’t work!
Bardo: You said it.
Ross picks up Franch and whips him into the turnbuckle, he storms at him and hits a devastating turnbuckle spear, he pulls Franch out and hits a Spinning Side-Slam making his brain tumble. Franch pulls himself up and Ross hits a NASTY open-palm strike right into the nose of Franchy. Franch collapses down again. He picks up Franch and hoists him side-ways for a rib-breaker.
And one! And two! And three! And FOUR! Rib-breakers. Ross hits a Kneeling-Hangman Neckbreaker. He picks up Franchy again and hits Crippling Losses which damn-well nearly knocks Franch out cold. Ross snaps in a Sinners-Deal and pulls back tight, Franch manages to tap twice but Ross let’s go literally a nano-second before the third tap. Ross picks up Franch and throws him face-first into the corner.
He drags Franch to the middle of the ring and ascends the rope. WOOOSHHH!!!! Ross soars over the ring for a HUGE Diving Knee-Drop. A huge yell of pain pierces the cheering as Ross moves out the way the camera zooms to see Franchy’s nose has been damn well smashed, there’s blood everywhere. Ross gets up before raising both arms in the air and looking at the sky, he pulls both arms down like he’s clawing to the top and makes a cut-throat symbol. He lifts up Franch and hooks him in the Rib-Breaker position, he backs into the corner and slowly climbs top-rope. He jumps off and hits the DEVASTATING. XG-K9. Franch is out-cold they think. The ref raises Franch’s arm and drops.
ONE!
TWO!
THR- Ross holds the arm in place. He lifts up Franch slowly to see the blood is now worse. Franch in almost a desperation punch-drunk attack attempts to punch Ross but he counters into an Arm-Wrench to Dragon Sleeper. He hoists him up and hits… CHAOS THEORY! The move shakes the ring a little and Ross hooks the legs.
The ref slides down to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Iris climbs into the ring with her microphone.
Iris: Here is your winner…. RROOOSSSSS LAAAMMBBEEERRRTTTTTTT!!!!
Fisher: Well! Ross Lambert picking up a decisive victory over Franchi$e here tonight!
Bardo: Do you really think there was any result?
Ross doesn’t stumble or raise his arms he just looks down at the Fallen Franchi$e. He climbs out the ring and grabs a steel-chair from by the announce table.
Bardo: Wait a second! I don’t think Ross is done.
Ross climbs in and pulls up Franchi$e before putting his head right through the frame with a vicious over-head smash. He throws Franchy out of the ring and asks politely for the microphone from Iris.
Ross: Well! I’ve got somethin’ to say. Jack Jefferson you may have retained your title last week by a Double Count-Out but you’ll be pleased to know that I’m not going to look for revenge, you will no-longer have to fear the shadows for fear of Ross. I have BIGGER fish to fry. So if anybody wants wasting, you come find me and I’LL push you to the brink of destruction and introduce Brutality as the Standard Issue! And by the way, just like I said before, times are changing! So Fallout you’d best watch out, you’ve just been put on notice.
Falling Away From Me by KoRn hits as Ross rolls out the ring and up the ramp after giving Iris her microphone back.
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Post by Yoko Satoshi on Feb 14, 2007 5:23:27 GMT -5
Segment: The End (Credit: Yoko)
What do you call someone with one of the biggest egos ever?
Adrienne Frost.
She’s currently walking to Biff’s office, women’s title belt proudly around her waist. Walking next to her is Violet Cyrilla’s former manager, bandmate, and friend, Mary Kane.
Mary: So do you want to do the talking, or-
Adrienne: I have confidence in your abilities. I can’t be bothered to argue with the man anymore.
Mary: And what do you want, exactly?
Adrienne: I’m tired of being fed opponents who are beneath me. I’ve beaten two ACW World Champions, the women in this division aren’t even competition for me.
Mary: I didn’t figure you to be the type to care about that kind of thing, actually.
Adrienne: The champion has a symbiotic relationship with their belt. You make the belt look good, and the belt makes you look good in return.
Mary: That’s a nice-
As they round a corner, Violet Cyrilla is there.
Adrienne: …If you think you can beat me up and get a rematch, you’re wrong.
Violet: Screw off, this isn’t about you. I’m here to talk to Mary.
Mary: I imagine you’re still sore over that guitar shot…
Violet: In more than one way. What the fuck has gotten into you?
Mary: Violet, we can’t live like we were living. Money runs out…I’m not going back to that.
Violet: This is about the money? You hit your best friend with a guitar for money?
Mary: If I manage Adrienne, I keep getting paid. You were leaving after that last match.
Violet: Yeah…Because we were going to start the band again.
Mary: Violet, there is no band anymore! Do you remember the old band? Beautiful Agony? Do you remember when they signed a record deal and replaced us? Violet, we suck. We were always living day to day because we sucked. They ditched us and got onto MTV, doesn’t that tell you anything? We can’t make money as a band!
Violet: Ok, think back. Think back to when we were fourteen and we helped start the band. Do you remember why? NOT FOR THE MONEY. We did it to make music!
Mary: Bad music doesn’t pay the bills, Violet!
Violet: We’d get by, we always do.
Mary suddenly slaps Violet.
Mary: Maybe it doesn’t bother you to fuck some loser for enough money to get a cheap motel room for a few nights, but it bothers me! I’m sick of being a whore, Violet! This was our chance to finally be fine financially, and you wanted to throw it away! If you want to, go ahead, but you’re NOT dragging me with you this time!
There is silence.
Mary: Listen…You’ll always be my best friend, but this is real life. I can’t chase a teenage dream, not when I’m good at doing this. I can’t live that way again.
Violet: We promised that we’d play the perfect concert one day, you’re going to give that up?
Mary: That’s exactly the kind of stupid shit I’m talki-
Zam. Hard left to Mary Kane’s jaw, and she instantly goes down. It wasn’t full power so she isn’t out cold. She holds her jaw in pain.
Mary: You…hit me. You fucking hit me, you bitch.
Violet: Be glad it wasn’t a guitar.
She looks at Adrienne. Adrienne looks back, with an icy glare.
Adrienne: I’ve proven myself against you, you know. How many times, three or four? Do you want me to beat you again?
Violet: I believe I have a rematch clause.
Adrienne: No…You were leaving, with your last match.
Violet: I know. And I’m deciding this will be the last one, win or lose. I’ll choose when, where, and how, when I’m ready. But it’s coming.
She looks down at Mary.
Violet: Try not to drown in your money, I want to see you at the match.
Mary: Try not to suck too much dick for YOUR money in the meantime.
Violet turns and leaves in the opposite direction.
End Segment.
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