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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 14:55:47 GMT -5
Monday Night Warfare May 14th 2007
ACW World Tour III: The Road Less Travelled Olympiahalle Munich, Germany
Schedule of Matches: -------------------------------
VorteX vs Jay Basin
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Mr. Red vs Chris Cyan - Battle of the Colors
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Nick Durden and Alicia Kitsune vs Scott Andrews and Adrian Flamingo
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Brimstone vs Thunderkiss - No DQ
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Wyvern, Starkweather, and Jake Cheng vs BK London, The Senator, and Kudo Yasuda
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 14:56:27 GMT -5
Segment: Not worthy (Credit: BK/Jake)
As the segment opens up, we pan through the sold out arena of German fans in the Olympiahalle, and they are going absolutely bananas. They hold up signs and scream as loud as they can as they get their 5 seconds of fame on television, on a worldwide scale.
The camera quickly cut back to the stage and just in time as "Kingdom Come" blasts through the PA System, and undeniably the biggest pop of the evening goes to BK London. The Fallen Heroes Winner steps through the smoke and onto the stage in the arena before surveying the 13,000 fans in attendance. He makes his way down to the ring, sporting a sleeveless version of his new T-shirt, in his ring gear.
He hops up on the apron before entering the mic and stepping to the middle turnbuckle. He beats his chest, showing his dominance, as if he were king of this ring before hopping down and stepping to the center. Phillip hands him a mic and he waits for his music to fade out, the lights to return to normal, and the crowd to die down a bit.
BK: It's been a while huh? Not just a while since I have come down to this ring to address the fans without any one else in the ring, but it's been a while since I stepped foot here...in Munich, Germany!
Cheap Pop. Foley Style.
BK: And you know what? I'm glad to be here tonight and I'm glad to be in this ring addressing you people - because over the past few weeks I have been getting attacked behind night after night by a certain someone. A certain someone who decides that they have to prove it to themselves and the fans, that he is the better member of the team Top Draw....
Before he can finish his statement, he pauses when the chants of, "Jake's A Pus-sy!" *clap clap clapclapclap*, emerge from the crowd. This brings it of a smile to the former ACW Heavyweight Champion's face as the censor scrambles to bleep the vulgar language.
BK: ...my sentiments exactly. And you know, over the years I've gotten chair shot after chair shot after chair shot to the skull, and you'd I would've gotten used to them by now - but those sons of bitches hurt. But last week, I got my taste of revenge when I put that annoying little bastard, through that announce table to my right. And now, more than ever, he's calling my cellphone, filling my email box, commenting on my myspace, continuing to challenge me to a match at Spring into Hell - and over and over again I say, "No!". But that's enough about talking about Jake, let's get to the real business, and that's me refereeing the ACW Heavyweight Championship match at the PPV Spring into Hell, THIS SATURDAY. Now..
Before he can delve into that little subject matter, it appears someone has become a little frustrated in the back. "4 Words (To Choke Upon)" by Bullet for my Valentine sounds through the speakers in the arena and massive boo-age is directed toward the Light Heavyweight Champion who makes his way to the stage, belt in hand. Jake, also sporting his in-ring gear for his match later tonight as well.
He makes his way down the ramp and steps into the ring before grabbing a mic of his own from Phillip. BK looks a bit amused by Jake's angry expression, and now Jake begins to speak out against BK.
Jake: Whoa, whoa whoa, Now, I don’t know about all you people, but is BK London turning down a challenge? This doesn't seem to be the BK I know. The BK that I teamed with for the past four years. This doesn'ts eem like the BK that became the ACW Heavyweight Champion. Shit BK, when the hell did you become such a chicken?
The crowd gasps and BK just grins and shakes his head.
BK: Jake, ol buddy, ol chum, good ol' friend of mind. You see, that whole "chicken" thing is played out man. Here in ACW, I've already proved that I'll take on anyone at anytime.
Jake: Then why not me? Huh? What do you have to lose?
BK: What do I have to GAIN from beating you for the 100th consecutive time in a row Jake? You decided to turn on me nearly two weeks ago, and what do you have to show for it huh? You attacked me twice after that and look here I am, standing? So again, what are you trying to prove? Jake - get it in your little peabrain that you are not WORTHY to fight.
The crowd cheers as Jake stomps around the stage like a three year old girl who wasn’t allowed to get ice cream from the ice cream truck.
Jake: Not worthy? I’m a four time Light Heavyweight Champion, let alone the other four titles I have held. I came in second at Fallen Heroes! I have earned this match and I deserve to....you know what, it doesn’t matter. BK, I promise you, by the end of the night, I will get that match. Whether you think I’m worthy or not!
Jake walks to the back before BK has a chance to comment. Does Jake have a plan, or is he bluffing? Why won’t BK just take the challenge? What will happen next?
Fade Out.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 14:57:23 GMT -5
Segment: First Lesson (Credit: Zero/Santiago) We open up to the backstage area of Santiago Rivera’s locker room. The door busts open and Jay Zero is seen walking in with his stylish street clothes on. [/center] Zero: Line up Ladies! [/color] He then notices he is talking to nobody but himself and begins to look all around the locker room. [/center] Zero: Santiago? Are you here? [/color] He slowly starts to take some cautious steps towards his luggage. [/center] Zero: Hellooooo? Rivera? [/color] He finally thinks the coast is clear and slowly unzips the bag, and begins to look through the belongings. He finds one thing that interests him, especially. He pulls out Santiago cell phone and begins to look through it. He smirks and pulls out his own phone, and it looks like he begins to add some of Santiago’s contacts into his own phone. [/center] Zero: Oh, this is gold! Pure, friggin’ gold! [/color] As he finishes up, he puts the cell phone back deep into the bag and puts his own phone away before pulling out what looks to be Santiago’s in ring attire. Jay is then stunned when the door begins to open. He glares right over towards the door and Santiago seems to come to a direct halt upon his eyes meeting with Zeros. As about 10 seconds pass, he slowly starts to walk in and Zero can’t seem to hide himself holding the tights. Santiago slowly closes the door and points at Jay. [/center] Santiago: Wha ---- What are you doing with my clothes? Zero: Oh, these? Well…..I was just doing a quick sweep of things around here and I saw these….DREADED things! [/color] Santiago: What?! What’s wrong with those? Zero: More like what isn’t wrong! These tights have to go if you want to learn how to be successful. Do you hope that after this training that you’ll be Zerofied? Hmm, do you? [/color] Santiago: Uh……..Uhm, yes? Zero: Okay! Now if you want that to happen, we’re going to get rid of these and get you a killer new pair! [/color] It seems as if he’s gotten himself out of that weird predicament as he throws the tights back on top of the bag and walk over to the couch with a look of relief on his face. [/center] Santiago: So, Coach. What’s on the agenda for today? Zero: Well, I don’t have a match, so wherever the wind takes us. [/color] Santiago: Dwight’s Gym? Zero: Ehhhh. [/color] Santiago: What? I thought you’re supposed to be teaching me ring tactics to get me over with the crowd. Zero: Yeah but we have all the time in the world to do that. Plus, I don’t even know what you’re capable of yet in the ring.
…Wait..……Bam! I got it! [/color] Santiago: What? Zero: We both take the night off and just relax…..then for the rest of this week, you train yourself without my help, and at Spring into Hell, me and you have ourselves a friendly bout. Just to see what we need to have you work on. Is that a great idea, or is that a great idea? [/color] Santiago: Hmm……well, there may be some rust still left on the Iron, but I think I can actually show you a thing or too! Zero : Yeah, well we’ll see about that now, won’t we? Mr. Rivera, class has just begun. [/color] The scene then begins to fade out with the two both gleaming with a smirk on their faces. It seems the two are both very confident in their own ability and are looking to one-up each other come Saturday. We then cut to commercial. End[/center]
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 14:59:04 GMT -5
Segment: Kevin Steps Up to the Plate (Credit: Senator)
As Warfare goes back on the air, ACW interviewer Kevin Anderson is shown in the backstage areas, in one of the many corridors of the arena.
Kevin Anderson: Kevin "The Scoop" Anderson here, and I'm about to get a big interview with the number one contender, Senator Steve Phillips, before anyone else can, this is a true scoop from the Scoop himself!
The camera follows Anderson as he heads down the hallway, finding the Senatorial Office, and the Capitalists in front of the door, Anthony Kalb is seen flipping through a Weekly Standard magazine, while Kevin Fitsharris slurps on a slushie.
Anderson: Hey, I'd like to speak with Senator Phillips, this is important business!
Anthony Kalb: Just a second, there...
Kalb turns around, and cracks the door open, yelling in.
Kalb: Bossman! You got someone here who wants to talk, I think he's a tv guy or something...what? Yeah, he's kinda short and's got a little bit of a gut, lots of hair gel in his hair...ok!
The former Fallout Openweight Champ slams the door shut, and starts walking away.
Anderson: Wait, isn't he going to let me in?
Kalb: Nah, seems like he ain't talking to you...you want an interview, I guess you can talk to Kev...
Anderson: But, but...I'm a journalist, nobody refuses the public from their right to know!
Kalb walks away, leaving the two Kevins behind.
Fitsharris: *slurrrrrrrrrp* Awww, man, brain freeze!
Anderson: So, Mr. Fitsharris, do you know anything about what your boss is doing to prepare for his match at Spring into Hell?
Fitsharris: Nah, why should I care? And if I did, why should I tell a muffinhead like you?
Anderson: Uh, I don't think you understand how important it is that I get this information! I promised the people that I'd give them all the news that's fit to air, especially on this big title match!
Fitsharris suddenly straightens up from his slouch, grabbing Anderson by the collar with one hand(without dropping the half-finished slushie in the other), and pins him against the wall.
Fitsharris: You trying to start trouble around here? I don't give a damn if you're helping that traitor Wyvern, or if you're being a jerk dope like the rest of you news guys, but I don't like your face either way, and I'm gonna do what I wanna do to anyone like you anyway!
Anderson: Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me!
Kevin Anderson cowers as Fitsharris looms menacingly in front of him, suddenly, without warning, the Capitalist pulls on the front of Anderson's collar, and dumps the remnants of his slushie down, letting go, and leaving "The Scoop" in a startled panic, as he dashes away down the hallway, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Fitsharris: Yeah, run away and cry like a little girl!
While Fitsharris admires his handiwork, Steve Phillips sticks his head out of the doorway after a few seconds in response.
The Senator: What exactly in the world was that?
Fitsharris: Aww...nothing you needed to worry about.
Senator: Well, judging from that response, you have gotten quite a bit wiser lately, Kevin. Thanks for whatever the heck you just did, though, I really am not in the mood to deal with aggravating pests.
Phillips shuts the door, and leaves Fitsharris back to himself.
Fitsharris: Dang it! Now I have to wait for Kalb to get back before I can get a new one...
Fade Out
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 14:59:53 GMT -5
Match 1: VorteX vs Jay Basin
As the first match for likely the third time in the past few months, Vortex and Basin both knew that once again they had to impress the fans and stimulate their interest, and for likely the third time they did. Their match started off with a quick exchange of strikes, and then turned into a slightly more complicated trading of moves. Vortex was the first to truly impress the fans, after he threw a few kicks in Basin's direction, and then proceeded to spin around and nail him with an out-of-nowhere Pele Kick, much to the fans' enthusiasm. He then attempted a Blizzard Suplex, but before he could even grab Basin for the move, the latter was able to kick him away and deliver a vicious clothesline which sent him sailing into the mats. Basin covered with his foot, but Vortex was able to throw him off.
Basin then tried to continue taking the advantage by throwing Vortex around easily, and finally finished this series off with a Big Boot. He covered again, but Vortex was able to kick out. Vortex then picked himself up with the assistance of the ropes, and when Basin charged at him for a clothesline, Vortex was able to throw him over. Basin rose quickly, but was knocked back down after Vortex hit him with a picture perfect Space Flying Tiger Drop, to the immense pleasure of the fans. He then rolled Basin back into the ring and covered him, but the behemoth was able to kick out, much to his dismay. Vortex then applied a Shining Triangle, but Basin was able to rise and throw him over his shoulder to break the hold. He then lifted him up once more and slammed him back down with a Buckeye Bomb, but only to another two count. He lifted him up once more and attempted the Basin Slam, but Vortex knocked him away, hopped onto the top turnbuckle, and quickly executed a Blackout Dropkick. And this was enough to put the big man out for the three count.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:01:27 GMT -5
Segment: In the Land of Warriors Pt. 1 (Credit: Michael, Scott)
The scene: hallway. The cameraman follows Nick Durden as he knocks upon a door. He doesn't give the person inside a chance to answer before entering. The camera turns toward the inside of the room to see none other than legendary ACW mastermind Scott Andrews and the big man, Butch Townsend. The two exchange pleasantries briefly, before Nick gets down to business.
Nick:[/color] Hey, Scott, man...you know how they say about it taking a big man to say he needs help? Well...I guess that means today I'm a really big man, because I'm here to ask for your help.
Scott: You don't have to ask. I can appreciate humility in a man. Shoot.
Nick Y'see, it's about Flamingo. I know that physically, I can dissect him like none other. I'm having problems mentally. It's like I've reached a block in my mind, and I want you to assist in getting me past it to the point where I can destroy him without another thought. You've been a pretty sick fucker in the past, that's why I like ya. Can you help me be the sadist I want?
Scott looks shocked, and almost winces at the thought.
Scott: Well now...that's asking a lot there, daddy...do you really think the network would approve of that? Of the things I've done in the past? I'm a changed man now, ya know? But I guess a leopard never truly changes his spots. Introspection and understanding...learning from the past. I guess I can help after all...and help myself as well.
Nick smiles, and rubs his hands together.
Nick: Yeah, I know. That's why I'm not planning on letting any of this greatness on any regular show, it's all for pay-per-views, man. So. Let's get this underway.
Scott: What exactly do you want to know? I can't make you live my life, travel back and walk in my shoes...so where do you want to begin?
Nick: Well it all comes from the past, that's good, because I'm working off the past month. Flamingo stole that victory from me at Genocide. He stole my moment at Fallen Heroes. Now I will take him out. I need focus. How do you manage to focus your past into your actions?
Scott: That's easy, jackass. You just need to learn to do the opposite of what you normally do. You get angry. You get pissed. You lash out blindly. And it works...but for so long. You need to learn to channel that rage, that anger...harness it, focus it...and learn when to strike. You are like a machine gun. You destroy everything in your way with reckless abandon. You need to make yourself the sniper. Focus...concentrate...pick your moment...and strike. One shot, one kill; The Scott Andrews way.
Nick has been nodding his head in agreement with every thought laid out, and now answers acknowledgment.
Nick: Set up for the one big moment? I may have one in mind, but I'll have to tell you later. Flamingo can't be TOO prepared for what he's getting into. Now...the anger, I got taken care of. Plenty of that. Every day, I think about him prancing around and flapping his gums about how he got the better of Nick Durden, and I can't stomach it. But if it's so fleeting, only one shot to kill, then how can I stretch it out?
Scott: Easy...you go into the recesses of your mind. Every time you want to attack, every time you want to get him...store it. Fill that reservoir...physical harm, that goes away. It's the mental games that win. Flamingo expects retaliation...give him none. He expects an attack. Just sit on your ass. Mess with his head...all the while enjoying in your mind the sick and twisted fantasies you have about breaking him...and warp those desires into a plan.
Nick: Oh good, that's exactly what I did last week. Head games rule. But the problem is, I don't want to take him out mentally. It's physicality that I want to do it on. My mental block is in getting to the place where I could find those sick and twisted fantasies. The plan right now is simply 'kick his ass'.
Scott: Listen to me, you don't attack Flamingo. You go after that which is dear to him...you need to warm up...the two aren't separate. You want to break him physically...first he must be broken mentally...when he's beaten and worn out...he'll be weak and vulnerable. You want to get there? I see two options:
1. Watch some seriously fucked up German porn...
Nick gives Scott a raised eyebrow, so he continues.
Scott: ...or 2: Introspection. Look back, long and hard at your past, at your childhood. Find that one person, that one moment...where you were utterly helpless. Alone, terrified, afraid...unable to defend yourself. Find your personal rock bottom...and crawl out of that hole. Face your inner demon...lose the inhibitions...dedicate yourself totally...isolate yourself for a stretch...find a runaway pup at the pound and just lay into it...name it Flamingo, and practice it...or if that ain't your style...well then...just find the one thing in your mind you'd defend to the death. What's your Sparta? You answer that...you have the key.
Nick shrugs his shoulders, replying somewhat nonchalantly.
Nick: My career, my honor, obviously.
Scott smiles and nods, continuing his spiel right where it was left off.
Scott: Flamingo...Flamingo is Persia. Your career is your land. He will stop at NOTHING to conquer. Now will you turn and run...? Or will you be willing to stand down there and do whatever it takes to defend it? You lose this match...you lose face, respect...and how can anyone look you in the eye as a man anymore? No one can...failure then, isn't an option...if you get Flamingo down...don't let up. He'll rise up and stab you in the back as you walk away. This is combat to the end. Until one man is incapable of standing on his own. When you start feeling mercy for that battered fool...IGNORE IT. Keep striking. Hit him. Beat him. Break him. Relish the snapping of bones. Stop only when the cops drag you off, all the while...saying to yourself...I must. If I stop...I lose everything. And if your career truly means that much to you...well, c'est la vie.
Nick leans back against the wall, looking exasperated from the verbal barrage laid upon him from his cohort.
Nick: Damn. Lot to take in. Bones breaking, cops, no mercy, German porn, my career as Sparta, c'est la vie, and Vae Victis for one.
Scott: Precisely...confusing as hell...but that's not a bad thing. Muddle your mind, distract it from what you worry about...and you'll be too busy to notice you're long past the point you intended to stop at.
Nick: Very true. But if I'm not thinking about anything, then I'm not thinking at all. I need to have my wits about me. I not only want, but need to do this right, once and for all. I have nothing yet a lot to put thought on.
Scott: Good things come to those who wait...for both of us.
Nick: Right. By the time I'm through with him, Flamingo won't have his head in the clouds...because he may not have a head.
Scott: That's the spirit...now go out there and win one for Sparta.
Nick: For my career...
Durden walks out of frame more determined than ever. Butch looks slightly perplexed as he begins to talk.
Butch: You know you're fighting Durden tonight don't cha'? And Flamingo's you're partner.
Scott: You useless shit...Why didn't you say anything while I was giving him all that ammunition?!
Butch: You didn't ask me to.
Scott: What do you mean I didn't ask you to?! How could I?! ...Look, no time for squabbles, I've gotta go prepare for a freakin' war now, thanks a lot...
Scott walks out of frame, and Butch watches as a smirk slowly works it's way across his face. He pulls the note out from his jacket pocket once again and looks at it before quietly chuckling to himself and following Scott.
What does Butch know that Scott doesn't?
And with a raging Nick Durden entering the fray tonight, how will the tag team match pan out?
FADE OUT.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:01:51 GMT -5
Segment: Stranger Than Fiction (Credit: Wyvern)
The scene fades from the ringside area to a very harshly lit area backstage, where Wyvern is standing by. The way that harsh lighting could be described here, is by how large shadows are cast against the cement block walls that serve as a rudimentary backdrop, while the ACW World Title gleams straight back into the camera lens, giving the viewers an eyesore. Wyvern looks intently into the camera, as he backs up to deliver his message.
Wyvern: Wow. That’s all I really have to say, Senator. Have you forgotten how weak and feeble you truly are? I mean, haven’t the past few weeks just brought that point home?! Face it; the sands of time that represent your career have all but settled at the bottom. Sure, there might be a few grains here and there at the top, but you’re looking at the end. Just think – you quit now, you’ll have quite the luxurious life. You’re still a conniving politician, right? I’m sure you’ll be making out like a bandit, with all those corporate kickbacks. Do yourself a favor, and give your constituents, as well as the “drones” that call themselves fans of ACW, something worthwhile and end your damn career here!
Laughing with his now-signature cackle, Wyvern adjusts his title belt, as the lighting casts a shadow that looks like a behemoth lurking on the walls.
Wyvern: But I know you won’t do that. Hell, you’re the first to point at fingers at people past their prime, but you’re the last to pick up your Social Security check and retire. Now, why is that the case? You see people, Senator isn’t the penultimate competitor everyone’s made him up to be. He’s nothing more than a common thief. He collects two paychecks, but he doesn’t give the full-time effort required of either job. You want to know what I mean? Take a look at his history! This man has either gone missing in action for the Senatorial Stable or that wasteland state of Illinois! Do the math! This man has missed so many important votes on Capitol Hill, and has had a gravy part-time schedule in the ACW!
Pausing, Wyvern grins from ear to ear, as he soon continues to hammer this message home.
Wyvern: “Senator” Steve Phillips is living a double life. One of those is coming to an end, but sadly enough for the state of Illinois, he’ll still be able to do more damage to that godforsaken state!
And now, maniacal laughter quickly dies down into seriousness.
Wyvern: But if I have my way…you’ll be sitting out the rest of your elected term…in a wheelchair. You see, Senator, I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times…your career WILL end by my hand. You will not walk away from the carnage like an important vote. In a sense, your career is seeing it’s end stalled, much like a filibuster…but I’m powerful enough to break through you. You see, I’m your cloture, your forced end. And for you, claiming that you’re going to go down to my level, in hopes of defeating me…you’re sorely mistaken. I am not one of your curtain-jerking assistants. I don’t spar, nor do I pull punches. But aha! You SHOULD already know that!
Wyvern ceases his tirade for another moment.
Wyvern: I know I sound like I’m beating a dead horse, but Senator, you’re worth the necrotic violence. For so long now, I have been cast aside, and now it is MY time to make something out of nothing. I doubt you truly understand this. However, I do know that you’re not completely daft…but remember this: a selective memory is often mistaken for a clear conscious. I know I’m impurity personified…but realizing it is my greatest attribute, whereas you, well, need to take a look in the mirror. But enough is enough. Tonight, I shall inflict further punishment, and I, the Modern Day Judas, will add a little familiar adage of mine…EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED.
As soon as he finishes his statement, the camera fades, as Wyvern is shown seething.
End Segment.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:03:02 GMT -5
Match 2: Mr. Red vs Chris Cyan - Battle of the Colors
The funkadelic beats of “Reds Fan” by Freekbass fill the arena as Mr. Red steps out from behind the curtains, only to be pelted by vicious boos from the crowd.
Phillip Jones: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring...from Columbus, Ohio...weighing in at two hundred pounds...MISTER...RED!
Red slides into the ring, awaiting his impending opponent.
The jarring guitar intro to Evanescence’s “Whisper” resounds, signaling the arrival of ACW’s newest talent, Chris Cyan.
Phillip: And his opponent...making his ACW debut...from The Dojo...he weighs in at two hundred and thirty-eight pounds...CHRIS...CYYYYYYAAAAAAAAN!
Cyan draws a decent pop from the Mortal Kombat geeks. Others will hold judgment to see how he actually performs before giving a reaction. Cyan hops onto the apron and enters the ring, allowing Carter Donovan to call for the bell.
DING, DING, DING!
The two move in and lock up in a test of strength. Cyan is eventually able to use his sizable weight advantage to back Red up against the ropes. Cyan releases Red and backs off at the beckoning of Donovan. The action resets as both men meet up in the center of the ring, this time with a tie-up. This time, Cyan demonstrates some deceptive quickness by sidestepping to end up behind Red and locking arms around his waist. Red manages to pry Cyan’s hands apart to break his grip. Red then takes Cyan’s arm and twists it forward. Cyan counters by taking Red’s near arm and twisting it forward. Red steps under Cyan’s near arm and wrenches it forth, this time making sure to kick Cyan in the back of his knee so that he drops to one knee. Red then places his knee on the back of Cyan’s shoulder to force him to the mat. However, Cyan is able to slip out form under Red’s knee and claw his way to the ropes. Red releases Cyan and plants one stomp across his back for good measure before backing away to the center of the ring. Red lifts Cyan to his feet and blasts him with two knife-edge chops. Red then sets Cyan up for a suplex, but Cyan hooks his leg around Red’s to block. Cyan drills some punches into Red’s gut before lifting him up into vertical suplex position. In a testament to his brute strength, Cyan holds Red up and walks over to the ropes before dropping Red stomach-first onto the top rope! With Red’s body still dangling across the top rope, Cyan plants a toe kick into Red’s chest. Cyan backs away a few steps, only to run at Red and smack him with another toe kick. Red tumbles to the outside. Cyan follows and pulls Red to his feet. With Red still hunched over, Cyan clubs him across the back with a forearm, following that up with two alternating roundhouse kicks to the midsection. Cyan then whips Red into the barricade! Cyan reenters the ring and takes a breather while waiting for Red to come to his senses, all the while the crowd appears to be impressed with Cyan and offer him decent adulation.
Red finally slides back into the ring at around the 8 count. Before Red can even get to his feet, Cyan is there to plant a quick stomp across his back. Cyan raises Red to his feet and grounds him again with a snapmare, followed quickly with a soccer kick to Red’s back. Cyan raises Red to seated position once more and drills another soccer kick into his back. Cyan pulls Red up and whips him into the ropes. When Red bounces off, Cyan shoves a big boot into his face. Cyan covers.
1...................
........2..........
KICKOUT
Cyan is quick to continue his attack by rolling Red over onto his back and applying a camel clutch. Cyan tenaciously pries Red’s head backward, but Red is eventually able to rise to his knees. At this point, Cyan locks his legs around Red’s waist, but Red quickly falls backward to slam Cyan into the mat! Both men struggle to get back up, but Cyan acts first with a roundhouse to Red’s chest. Cyan hits Red with another roundhouse kick that sends him into the corner. Cyan then strikes with an open-handed slap that drops Red into seated position. Cyan takes this opportunity to bury the sole of his boot into Red’s throat. After being forced to release the illegal hold by Donovan, Cyan raises Red to his feet and pulls him away from the corner. However, Red has recovered and quickly hits a jawbreaker on Cyan. Cyan staggers back, leaving himself completely open to an enzuigiri from Red! Both men get to their feet at around the same time, but Red acts first to step behind Cyan and roll him up into a school boy!
1....................
.........2........
KICKOUT
The two pop back to their feet. Red charges at Cyan and hits him with a shoulder block. Cyan gets to his feet, only to catch a running calf kick for his trouble! Red pulls Cyan up and whips him to the ropes. Cyan bounces off straight into a dropkick from Red! Red covers.
1.................
........2...........
KICKOUT
Red raises Cyan to his feet and backs him up into the corner before pummeling him with a knife-edge chop. Red then tries to whip Cyan to the opposite corner, but Cyan counters and sends Red into the corner. Cyan runs at Red, only to catch a back elbow in the jaw. Cyan staggers back a few steps but immediately takes another charge at Red, and gets hit with a toe kick to the gut. Red climbs to the top rope and leaps off with a double axe handle, but Cyan snipes him straight out of midair with a dropkick! Cyan lifts Red to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Cyan runs to the opposite ropes and bounces off to greet Red with a lunging lariat clothesline! Cyan pulls Red up and throws a roundhouse kick to the abdomen, followed by a roundhouse kick to the knee, and finally a spinning back heel kick to the gut. The combo sends Red staggering back to the corner. Cyan backs up a few steps and runs at Red, who tries to counter by sticking out a foot, but Cyan stops in his tracks and catches Red’s foot. Cyan then plants a toe kick into the back of Red’s knee. Cyan stomps Red down into seated position and runs to the opposite corner, only to run back at Red and land a dropkick! Cyan pulls Red away from the corner and covers.
1..................
........2........
KICKOUT
Cyan lifts Red to his feet and whips him into the corner. Cyan runs at Red, who catches him with a back body drop that sends him over the top rope. Cyan lands on the apron and throws a punch, but that’s quickly blocked by Red. Red counters with a punch of his own, but that too is blocked. Cyan sticks his head between the top and middle ropes, hoping to thrust a shoulder into Red’s gut, but Red lifts a knee, jamming it straight into Cyan’s face. Red takes Cyan into a front facelock and pulls him through the middle and top ropes so that Cyan’s feet are dangling across the middle rope before falling backward to drill his head into the mat with a DDT! Red covers.
1...................
.........2............
KICKOUT
Red pulls Cyan to his feet and lands a pendulum backbreaker. Red then runs to the ropes and hops onto the second rope before flipping backward to land a springboard moonsault for the cover.
1...............
.......2..........
KICKOUT
Red raises Cyan to his feet and slaps him with a knife-edge chop. Cyan immediately strikes back with a roundhouse kick. Red counters with another knife-edge chop. Cyan throws an open-handed slap across Red’s face. Red promptly slaps Cyan back. Cyan runs to the ropes, only to bounce off straight into another knife-edge chop! While Cyan is stunned, Red scoops him up and plants him back down to his feet so that he has Cyan in an inverted facelock. Red then drops back to plant Cyan in a British Fall DDT! Red covers.
1..................
.........2..............
KICKOUT!
Red lifts Cyan to his feet and sets him up for a belly to back suplex, but as he’s raising Cyan into the air, Cyan flips backward to land on his feet behind Red. Cyan quickly locks arms around Red’s waist and takes him over in a German suplex for the pin!
1..................
.........2..........
KICKOUT
Cyan pulls Red up and strikes with two open-handed slaps across Red’s face. Cyan follows that up with a spinning backfist and a roundhouse kick straight into Red’s throat. Cyan runs to the ropes and bounces off, only to be caught in a roll-through Boston crab from Red! Red tries desperately to weigh Cyan down, but Cyan uses his weight advantage to the utmost as he manages to claw his way to the bottom rope. Red raises Cyan to his feet, only to toss him through the middle and top ropes and to the outside. Red follows and pulls Cyan up, only to roll him onto the ring apron. Red climbs onto the apron himself and pulls Cyan to his feet again. Red lifts Cyan up for a belly to back suplex and leaps sideways off the apron, dropping Cyan back-first onto the apron! Red lifts Cyan up and rolls him back into the ring. Red covers.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:03:19 GMT -5
1.................
.........2.........
KICKOUT
Red pulls Cyan up and tosses him into the corner. Red seats Cyan onto the top rope and strikes with a dropkick. Red gets up and climbs to join Cyan on the top rope before taking him back down to the mat with a superplex! Red covers.
1.................
..........2..........
KICKOUT!
Red gets up and moves over to Cyan’s feet before locking in a Boston crab. Cyan again demonstrates the fighting spirit and makes his way to the ropes. Red climbs to the top rope and waits for Cyan to get to his feet. Once Cyan does, he leaps right for Red, who promptly knocks him back down to the mat with a forearm. Cyan collapses to the mat and crawls back to the center of the ring. When he gets to his feet, Red leaps off to land a crossbody for the cover.
1.................
.........2..........
KICKOUT
Red raises Cyan to his feet and pulls him along with him as he backs into the corner. Red seats himself onto the top rope and pulls Cyan up along with him. Cyan gets to the second rope and begins to fight back with some punches to Red’s stomach. Cyan eventually stuns Red enough to pull him up so that he’s standing on the top rope. Cyan then takes him over with a fisherman brainbuster from the top rope! Cyan covers.
1.................
..........2.............
KICKOUT!
Cyan lifts Red to his feet and whips him into the corner. Cyan seats Red onto the top rope and climbs up to join him, but Red jams a thumb straight into Cyan’s eye! This stuns Cyan long enough to allow Red to shove him off the top rope! Cyan crashes to the mat, and Red flies off the top rope to land an elbow drop across Cyan’s sternum! Red gets to his feet and moves over to Cyan’s legs to lock in another Boston crab, but before Red can flip him over, Cyan twists his body around so that his head is now pointing toward Red and rolls him up into a victory roll-type pinning predicament.
1...............
......2............
KICKOUT
Both men pop back to their feet, but Red acts first with a toe kick to Cyan’s gut. Red then strikes with a knife-edge chop. Red slugs Cyan with a right cross, then another knife-edge chop before running to the ropes. Red bounces off, straight into an inverted atomic drop from Cyan! As Red stumbles backward, Cyan runs to the ropes and bounces off with a big boot, but Red catches his foot! Red then sweeps Cyan’s other foot out from under him and takes hold of both legs before applying the Redleg! Cyan tries to make another burst toward the ropes, but the adequate strength has left him and he’s left with no choice but to tap out!
DING, DING, DING!
Phillip: Here is your winner....MISTER...RED!
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:03:42 GMT -5
Segment: When the Flame Turns (Credit: Hunter)
So here I am...again. Truthfully, I hope that one day when myself and my apparent new business partner are a bit closer, our meetings will not have to involve parking garages and being hidden in the dark. I hope for a joint agreement to secrecy within the confinements of a well-handled hotel room...or even a motel room. Christ, anything but the fucking parking garage. We're always on one of the higher floors, and it's always colder up there for me. All I do for up to ten minutes is just stand there and look around, waiting for some sort of signal to where I should go next. It's like something out of a cheesy 40's detective flick. Which would probably make me the Humphrey Bogart character...and I don't think I could handle that. He's too damn awesome for me. Wait, shit, what am I talking about? This isn't about Bogart, this is about something---
Click. I turn my head instantly in the direction from which this sound comes. My gut feeling proves to be correct as I see a small, hovering red flame before the face of a man who stands perfectly consumed in the shadows. I chuckle slightly and slowly approach him, and when I'm a few feet away, I lean back against the nearest character which, to my surprise, does not signal its alarm. It is only at this moment that I noticed that, although he is in the darkness, I am not. For any passersby this must truly be a site...a man talking to the darkness. But I am sure that I am not the only one. He takes a brief drag of the cigarette and then extends his hand forward into the light, clutching a box of cigarettes. But my eyes are glued to a large blue ring on his ring finger. It sure isn't a wedding ring, and so I continue to look it over to try to find out what it is, but he pulls back his hand into the dark once more.
The Shadow: I suppose that that is a "no."
I raise an eyebrow and look up at him.
What?
The Shadow: I was offering you a cigarette, and all you did was stare.
Sorry...I like your ring.
The Shadow: Everyone does.
Is there some sort of story behind it, or did you just randomly buy it in some jewelry store? Is it a gift from Mrs. Shadow?
He laughs from behind the cloud of darkness, and then sighs.
The Shadow: Another time, Nicholas. I have too many things to take care of.
Suit yourself.
The Shadow: Is it done?
I raise an eyebrow, but quickly conceal it again. Play it simple, Nick.
Yeah.
Pause.
The Shadow: Are you sure?
Quite.
The Shadow: Fair enough.
So did I pass your little test?
The Shadow: You passed the first part of it, yes.
There's a second?
The Shadow: I thought I mentioned that to you?
Not that I recall.
The Shadow: Oh well, it is not as if you can go back now. I will give you a briefcase, and in it you will find the necessary information on a man who means nothing to you but something to me. All you will have is the information in there. And you must find him.
...that's all?
The Shadow: It is more difficult than it seems, I assure you.
Well, no, I could have guessed that by myself. I'm just surprised that all you want me to do is "find" him.
The Shadow: As I said before, if proper action needs to be taken, then it will be. But for now, find him. When you do, call me with your exact location, and with his. I will take care of the rest.
He throws a large object in my direction, but I step out of its flight path as per usual. I am answered with a brief laugh from the darkness.
The Shadow: Relax, Nicholas; if I wanted you dead, I would do it in more pleasurable ways.
To whom?
The Shadow: Me, of course.
"Pleasant," I think. I lift up the briefcase and secure it onto the trunk of the nearby car, and then open it and look through the files inside until I find a picture. He's a rather fat man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses.
Bobby Miller? Seems simple enough.
The Shadow: We shall see.
So am I to assume that I'm being timed?
Silence greets me warmly again, and I lock up the suitcase and stare into the darkness. His form and the light of the cigarette are gone, and I sigh just as a car drives by behind me, illuminating its lights directly in my direction and, subsequently, in the Shadow's former direction. I chuckle slightly, considering that perhaps he even has psychic powers. Wouldn't that be a twist? And why does he always leave on a question? Oh well...I'll take it as a "yes" anyways.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
His eyes flicker open slightly and he rises instantly, not even bothering to try to fall asleep as he usually does. He stands perfectly still in the darkness, pondering slightly. He then walks over to the table on which he has his valuables, and opens up the folder with all of the newspaper clippings of Tom's death. He sighs once more and looks over them, being able to see clearly despite the darkness. Once moderately satisfied, he simply puts the folder back onto the table, grabs his cloak, and throws it on nonchalantly. He throws a side glance at the clock, confirming what he already knew, and finally leaves the room.
End
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:04:20 GMT -5
Segment: The Lines have been Drawn (Credit: Stark/Wyvern/Shawn)
The camera feed cuts back from commerical, as a sold-out crowd is on hand to witness ACW live and in person. ACW must love when fans come to see these events, fans from other countries that is, as the merchandise booths are teeming with hordes of people buying tons of merchandise. However, the fancy free way of going to the merch booth during the commercial break is interrupted when "No W" by Ministry [url=plays. kudabeetle:The crowd immediately begins to boo as the unholy triad of Wyvern, Alexander Starkweather, and Umeko Saito emerge from the entranceway. They make their way down to the ring, completely disregarding the crowd's hostile comments. As they climb into the ring, Wyvern calls for a microphone, which gets tossed up to him, as he begins to speak.
Wyvern: Well, well...It appears that the Senator has resolved to take down the titans. Last Thursday, I wasn't on hand to see what went on, but I can tell you this: Senator, you're a lost cause. It's amazing, thinking an over-the-hill politician expects to take down the greatest minds in the ACW. Humor me more, why don't you?
Wyvern pauses for a moment, and looks at Stark and Umeko, who are standing by.
Wyvern: Senator, tonight we're going to square off yet again -- have you learned anything yet? You're a pathetic excuse for a man, and yet, you're joined up by an even more pathetic group. BK London, the "boy" who has managed to intercede on our impending match, and Kudo Yasuda...I don't really have much against someone as competitive as he, but nevertheless, you are in for a world of hurt as Starkweather and I are doing to make you wish you had never set foot here tonight. We're not even counting that gnat, Jake Cheng, as I know that Stark and I are MORE than capable of giving you yet another taste of what to expect at Spring Into Hell.
Wyvern puts the microphone down for a moment, as he passes it to Umeko Saito. Umeko and Starkweather stand side-by-side, and as Wyvern finishes, Umeko takes a meek step forward to try to establish herself in the forefront of the shot. Old habits die hard. She's not used to playing on equal ground with a protégé, much less a group of people…and she'd hate turning into a full blown second fiddle.
Umeko: ACW… You've truly reached the height of your decadence. You'd exploit anything…and anybody…to get ratings. Now, I've never claimed to be the great protector of morality. In fact, you could say that I'm far from it. However…I see the way a clever opportunist like myself can only see it…
Umeko pauses momentarily for emphasis.
Umeko: It's a sign of weakness.
Starkweather stands behind her, unmasked, his hair a bit scraggly as always, his dark eyes regarding her for a moment before he crosses his arms and cocks his head to one side.
Starkweather: That's putting it lightly. It's a death throe.
Umeko: Well put, Doctor…
She lets out a soft chuckle and allows herself a dark half-smile.
Umeko: The vultures are circling…and we're ready to make our killing blow. We've got your precious World Title, after all. How much longer can you last without it? We could just as easily leave and take that pitiful belt to greener pastures. None of us have any loyalty whatsoever to this company. In fact, we detest everything this…this sinking ship stands for. We're going to make sure that there's nothing left for the carrion beasts... Soon, very soon, we'll strike this derelict through its black heart and pick its bones of anything that remains. Anything of worth…anything that can be saved…we may spare. Of course…those select few are already in our fold…they're just waiting. We're still in the skirmish phase of this quaint little war… When the lines are drawn…they'll side with us. It's the nature of things.
Starkweather nods to his consort in Ms. Saito and extricates the microphone from her dainty claws, turning as the crowd boos the exchange soundly, he in particular for some reason. He simply shrugs it off and gestures toward the world champion and Umeko in a sweeping gesture.
Stark: I've told you... I've told you since my match with the insufferable Scott Andrews. Hannibal is at the gates, and with every day his army grows. You thought it was simple threat, but with every day that threat grows more and more real. With every day, more of YOUR OWN PEOPLE join the cause, ready to break upon the walls of ACW like a tsunami. Until, of course, the wall crumbles. And then my associates and myself will pour into your world like an ocean of fire and cleanse the world of this pox named ACW. And then...
He glanced at Wyvern with a half-smile.
Stark: And then, we'll decide who rules the new world.
Taken aback a little by Stark's sharp tongue, Wyvern looks a little bit confused. Nevertheless, he keeps his composure as he grasps the mic.
Wyvern: Apparently my colleague here got his words MIXED up. MY army will sweep through and bring about the restructuring of this godforsaken institution. But enough of trivial manners. Senator, BK, and even Kudo...you're the first lines of defense to our assault, but don't kid yourselves...we're the surpreme commanders, and my army will walk all over you three. So suit up, and get ready for the battle. Better bring the medics...it'll be a bloodbath.
With that, Wyvern tosses the mic behind him, as he laughs maniacally, as the trio promptly exit the ring as the cameras cut to yet another commerical...advertising pays the bills, sorry.
End segment.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:04:54 GMT -5
We’re All Just Figures Mixed Up in Coincidence (Credit: Flamingo)
They say the man you turn out to be is a product of your up-bringing. By this merit, everything you do as a child has a direct result on your future as a person, your relationships with others, and attitude through life. This is not a new theory by any means. Figures of this theory have been spouting this for years now. They say that a child is very much like a job for the parents and their efforts will be shown through the gradual outcome. Lets say that you have a job where you are required to show up at work at 8 in the morning, write up and file at least 8 products, and take no more than 2 breaks before getting off work at 4 in the afternoon. Now, let’s say that you show up late, only write up 5 reports, and take 4 breaks before clocking out at 2. Would you expect to get a promotion or a raise?
By this style of thinking as well, each life experience the kid has also dictates what they’re going to do in the future. If the kid is placed in sports at a young age, they’ll learn the value of staying healthy and being a team player. If the kid is placed in a volunteer group like 4-H or the Key Club, they’ll learn about selfless charity and giving back to the community. If the kid is placed in a theatre group, they’ll learn about dedication and focus. When you really think about it, the most enjoyable years of your life have a pretty darn impact on who you are today.
Enter Adrian Flamingo. Adrian Flamingo is living proof of what a not-so-splendid childhood can do to a young man. No, he wasn’t abused or suffered some tragedy… he simply lacked a few things that most children had. Oh yes, even if you’re born into wealth, you can lack things that other children of a much lower social class have. The story of Adrian Flamingo is a classic tale of have and have not.
The Flanagan’s were a proud family with roots in congress and a savvy for business… specifically the advertising business. “Plop plop! Fizz fizz!”, “Where’s the Beef?”, “Once you pop, you can’t stop”, all Flanagan ideas that were put out through the various pen-names that Adam Flanagan had came up with through the years. Through Adam and his wife, Lorien, the Flanagan’s had two children, Karen and Adrian. Since both parents lead the social life of a sophisticated power couple (Lorien was the heiress of the Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing family), the children were practically raised by the hired help until they were of age to be enrolled in Philip Exeter Academy. There, life wasn’t too much easier for the kids.
Most say high school is hell, but at P. Exeter, you were either loaded or not rich enough. Unfortunately, Karen and Adrian fit into that second demographic. Since Karen was a natural born bitch, she fit in quite well with the snaky, pompous girls on campus. The same wasn’t said for Adrian, who spent most of his days on his own. Since there weren’t children around him when he was younger except his older sister, Adrian’s social skills left much to be desired. He did have one relief, however, which was watching professional wrestling whenever he could find a way to. Most he could get were bootleg tapes from the old AWA and WWF, but they had to suffice. Once again, many at P. Exeter looked down at Adrian for his “redneck” hobby.
Upon graduation, Adrian hopped a plane to Mexico where he stayed and trained for a number of years under the tutelage of the greatest luchadores in the history of lucha libre. Men like Dr. Wagner Jr., Vampiro, Blue Panther, Cibernetico, Dos Caras, and Hurricane Ramirez all had a hand training him. Now how did a gringo from California with a prep-school education manage to pull this off? Easy. He was rich, bitch! It was through working under the hood of Los Rudo Dos that Adrian really began to step out of his shell until he could really just throw himself out there. From there, he lost the hood, changed his name, and picked out the best pink boas… and thus, Adrian Flamingo was born.
Now, things were full circle. Under his custody for the immediate future was his young nephew, Nathan Worthington. A boy he had only seen through baby pictures that he received through Christmas cards from his sister and her dull as hell husband. Here was this kid who wasn’t being raised by his parents and received probably as much attention as her husbands old Lexus. He did have one thing though, he had his uncle to look up to… but could Adrian Flamingo really be responsible for another living thing? After all, thanks to Nick Durden, he can barely take care of his own shit.
Adrian looked out at Nathan playing by himself in a sandbox outside of his mothers house in Redondo Beach. Watching from the front porch of said house (which wasn’t as big as a mansion, but still sweeter digs than even Adrian could probably pull off), Adrian felt bad for the little tyke. After all, he’d been there before, and he knew that as soon as Nathan turned 14, he was going to be shipped off to Philip Exeter just like he had been. That was beyond his control, of course, but still couldn’t help but feel for the little man.
Adrian turned and headed back into the house where his mother sat in the kitchen drinking what appeared to be a Long Island Ice Tea. With her was his hired help, Mister Jones who was fresh from his vacation in England and ready to hop back on tour with Adrian. The two seemed to be discussing how only pussies mixed orange juice into their vodka or something along the lines of that.
“Hey, Jonesy, could you head out to the front porch and keep an eye on the kid?”
“No.”
“Allllright… why not?”
“I’m paid ta look afta you… not cha kid.”
“Alright, if I paid you more, would you look after the kid?”
“No.”
“Oh, well… hmmm… could you pretend to so I can talk to my mother in private?”
“Hey, if you can say et in front of ‘er, you can say et in front o’ me.”
Adrian sighed and looked at his mom, who was half past tipsy. She giggled as she sipped from his class and her graying curly hair fell in front of her eyes. Knowing that the battle was lost before it was fought, Adrian patted Jones on the back and grimaced.
“You know, it’d probably be like talking to a wall right about now. Never mind, Jonesy.”
Even in his twenties Adrian Flamingo couldn’t get a conversation out of his mother. Some trip home this was. Meh, the hell with family, he was always more comfortable with by himself anyway. Adrian stepped back outside where he could see the hired help loading up the trios bags into their limo that was minutes away from taking them to the airport. Adrian looked back down at Nathan who was playing with his Adrian Flamingo figure against a Jake Cheng figure. Nathan was a strange child in the sense that he was so quiet by himself, but if anything wrestling was around, it was like someone shot him up with sugar and caffeine.
Well, he didn’t have a real, stereotypical family, but he did have Jonesy and the kid. One is paid to protect him, the other almost idolizes him. For a guy who grew up with no self esteem but currently has the ego of a mack truck, this would do… it would do.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:05:43 GMT -5
Match 3: Nick Durden and Alicia Kitsune vs Scott Andrews and Adrian Flamingo Will be posted when Mr. "I can never write a match on time" Freeman decides to send it in.
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:06:15 GMT -5
Segment: “We All Fall Down” Credit: T-Kiss/Rena [His chest is wrapped together by several centimeters of bandages tied up by cloth. His wrists are numb with cut marks that go down a half an inch in places. His brain is filled with revenge. For the last 10 minutes, he has become an out of control monster. It all started as soon as he saw Rena backstage near her dressing room. Luckily for her, she saw him first, thus allowing her a few seconds leeway as they began their chase around the arena. Almost out of breath, Rena has reached the end of the line as she bursts through the door leading to the roof. Thunderkiss shortly follows and Rena runs to the edge of the roof and looks down below. Its certain death. However as she spins around and see TK only a few feet away … the other direction isn’t looking so good right now either.] Thunderkiss: Want to know how I broke out? [Thunderkiss raises his wrists up and deep cut marks are illuminated by the moon.] Thunderkiss: I pulled and I pulled and even inches of steel couldn’t hold my anger. Rena *smiling*: I guess I should have used a nail gun instead. Thunderkiss *angered*: Do you know what this body means to me? Its my EVERYTHING. Its my paycheck, and you just ruined it. Oh sure, the plastic surgeon said it would heal fine, but the fact that a filthy little cumslut like YOU did this to me …. Its not justice, it’s a crime. Rena: You self indulged fuck! You tainted my LIFE! I’ll never be free of the memories of you! I can’t scrub away the filth you put into my body; lord knows I’ve tried enough. I forever scarred your chest like you forever scarred my mind! Thunderkiss: Well, what an artsy little cumslut. Scribbling the date of the next PPV into my chest. You want me in a match? More than happy to oblige girly. Last time I only played with you in the ring, this time I’ll be out to break your NECK. I resent women in wrestling, you have no place here. You should have stayed away. [Rena’s passion begins to churn to the surface as she is tired of the running, tired of the games.] Rena: I have had enough of you! I’m done running from you! You want to play mind games? You want to come at me and do your worst? I’ve been doing my worst for YEARS! Now you either come at me right now or you tuck that 2 inch dick between your legs and walk away!!! [Rena braces for action but quickly has her attention taken away as both her and TK look toward the roof access doorway where a third person has made their way to this little party: Rayne Iwashita. Rena has a puzzled look on her face, almost flashing conflicting looks of “concern” and “jubilation” in between. Thunderkiss on the other hand, he has a look of amusement on his face as he believes he knows this girls intentions.] Thunderkiss: What? What do you think you’re going to do for her? Help her? Don’t make me laugh! Rayne: Help her? You’re testosterone laden brain must have missed the memo. Ruin her life for all I care, but I’ll be the one to end it! Thunderkiss: ? Rena: You .. BITCH! Rayne: Tisk, tisk, I see I finally have your attention now honey, a tad late. After the way you’ve treated me recently and in the past, I always wanted to be the one to do you in, and before I could think of an elaborate plan to do so, this big buffoon had to go and mess everything up! And When I saw TK chase you up here, I knew my window of opportunity was closing. And I’ll be damned if I let this prick take my chance to kill you! Thunderkiss: Well fuck you too bitch! Rena: ……….. Rayne: So sit back Rena while I deal with this miscreant and take honor in the fact that I’ll have so much enjoyment in your death! Thunderkiss: No, YOU just sit back, pleasure yourself as I do your little “friend” or whatever the fuck she is while you watch, and when I’m done…. YOU’RE NEXT! Rayne: The fuck I am. [Thunderkiss takes a couple of steps back for a moment and gazes upon the tight little body of Rayne. His eyes go up and down a few times, taking in every little inch. Every little bit of supple skin…] Thunderkiss: Too bad you weren’t there as well. I could have done YOU right after I did HER. Rayne *whispering under he breath*: you’re going to die. Thunderkiss: Oh, you should have seen it. She was so SOFT. Rena: …………………… Thunderkiss *looking at Rena*: SO WET! Rena: ARGH! [Rena has had ENOUGH! She leaps up onto TK and grabs him around the neck! She is beginning to choke him down while Rayne rushes to them both and lunges her body at them in an effort to knock the two of them off the roof! TK’s weight hardly gives during the collision, but he is rocked enough to start a domino effect towards the ledge. Rena’s smaller frame is quickly pushed towards the edge as she loses her grip on TK’s neck. TK reaches out and grabs her by her arm, leaning his body back and supporting her weight with his own. Rayne is not as lucky. Her collision with TK’s body was like hitting a brick wall, and this in turn has caused her own momentum to send her flying in the opposite direction … straight over the edge of the arena!] Rayne: AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! ~!~SPLAT~!~ [Rena and TK look at each other for a moment without saying a word. TK lets go of her arm and Rena quickly spins her body around and looks down far below. There is Rayne, or there was Rayne depending how you look at it. Dozens of people scramble to the scene to take in the horror and their shrieks echo upwards to those she hated so much. Rena is at a loss for words, sickened by what she has just partaken in but thankful that she is alive … all thanks to Thunderkiss. She looks back at him, and by this time, he’s already almost back to the roof doorway.] Thunderkiss: Bitch shouldn’t have ever charged me.Rena: Wh-Why? Thunderkiss: Don’t think anything of it. I was using you as a prop. [Rena’s face turns red as vengeance fills every cell in her body …] Rena *screaming*: I’LL DESTROY YOUR LIFE LIKE YOU’VE DESTROYED MINE! Thunderkiss: In five days, you’ll get your chance. [Thunderkiss steps into the door, into the shadows, and Rena is left to embrace the hatred caused by this man who has turned her life upside down in a matter of a few weeks.] [Fade] Rest in Peace, Rayne Iwashita
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Post by BK London on May 14, 2007 15:06:51 GMT -5
Birds of a Feather (Credit: Flamingo)
ACW cameras open up to the front door of Adrian Flamingo’s dressing room before opening the door to see Nathan and Mister Jones playing checkers. It was a rather intense staredown between the big, wiley Brit and the pint-sized flamigo where neither one backed down. Nathan sported his lavender Adrian Flamingo shirt while Jones rocked his grungy business casual. The camera closed in as a bead of sweat rolled down Mister Jones’ forehead and panned down as he slowly pushed his black checker forward. Nathan looked down at the piece and smiled as he jumped his red checker over three of Jones’ in one fluent motion. With that, Nathan won! The little guy grabbed his toy belt and ran around the locker room like he had just won the world title as Joney picked up the board and threw it across the room. Jones quickly snatched up the little kid with one hand and held him up in the air by his shirt.
“Adrian! Dis little cunt is cheatin’ ‘gin!”
“No I didn’t!”
“Yes you did you little cheata!”
“You just suck at checkers you big sore loser!”
Adrian stomped into the camera shot in his purple singlet upon hearing the bickering between the two of them.
“Jones! Put him down! Nathan! Pick up the pieces from your game!”
Jones reluctantly dropped the little tyke to his feet and straightened out his suit jacket. As soon as Nathan’s feet hit the ground, he dropped to his knees and began picking up the checkers. Adrian ran his fingers through his naturally curly blond hair and removed his sunglasses.
“Good god, it’s like living with two kids! Oh! Well, I guess ACW cameras are here to hear my thoughts on teaming with Scott Andrews to face Kitsune and Durden. Well, I know many people are thinking that Durden and Alicia have this one in the bag because they’re familiar with each other, and I suppose I see their reasoning. After all, AK is little Durden’s babysitter when that little girlfriend of his can’t control his tantrums. I’m curious if her hubby doesn’t want kids, because I think she’d be a great mom. Look at what all she does for little Nicky? She whips his nose, she kisses his owwies, puts band-aids on his skinned knees, and changes his diapers when he remembers to lift the lid, but forgets to drop trou. Hell, by that logic, my old nanny would be a great tag team partner for me! Actually, that could be kinda cool. Tonight, Adrian Flamingo and Edna Null take on Wyvern and Starkweather! That right there equals buyrates, baby! We‘ll leave that match for you internet dream-bookers though.”
Adrian lost his smile and glanced down at the floor suddenly, as if he was overcome by a guilty conscience. He tossed down his sunglasses and motioned for Jones and Nathan to come by his side with a grimace on his face.
“I dunno, maybe I’m being too hard on Nick. After all, all he wants to do is show that he deserves more recognition in ACW. He’s just trying to make a name for himself. I dunno, Jones, what do you think about Nick?”
Jones pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and while he lit it up with a lighter, he apathetically looked to the camera.
“Cunt.”
“Fair assessment. Nathan, do you have anything to say?”
Nathan bent down and put on his uncle’s sunglasses before doing a little strut of his own. When he finished, he smiled as he looked at the camera, and in the best impersonation of his uncle’s voice said…
“You know what, Uncle Adrian? I think that Nick Durden is a cry baby who needs a good smack in tha mouth!”
Adrian laughed at his little protégé before turning his attention back to the camera.
“Thanks, Nathan. Like I was sayin…”
“Kid Flamingo.”
“What?”
“My name is Kid Flamingo and in case Scott Andrews doesn‘t show, I‘ll be your partner.”
Adrian about lost it and even Jones had to have a chuckle at the pint-sized marvel. Nathan… or Kid Flamingo… was quickly reaching a maximum level of full of himself as he began strutting around the pair. Adrian stopped the kid, took back his shades, and patted him on the head.
“Well, thanks Kid Flamingo, but I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, but thanks for bringing my partner together. Now, I know a lot of you viewers at home don’t think Andrews and I will flow as a team, but I assure you’re wrong. Sure, he’s known for his smash-mouth style and I’m known for the more primitive approach… and sure we’ve never even spoken to one another, but we’ll be in that ring working like a well-oiled machine! Why? Because he’s the Scarlet Assassin… and I pretty much made the color pink my bitch! We’re both shades of red! Sure, he’s darker and more serious… and I’m lighter and crazy… but still, the simple fact the only thing that separates us from one another is some white is enough proof to tell me that we’ll be just fine! So, tonight, ACW, you’ll see the Flamingo and the Cardinal work side by side to beat the hell out of a whiney little girl on her period… and Alicia Kitsune! So, when you need two guys to beat up some women, ACW, who ya gonna call? That’s right! ACW’s favorite son and some other guy… “Astonishing” Adrian Flamingo and the “Scarlet Assassin” Scott Andrews!”
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