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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:27:46 GMT -5
Monday Night Warfare August 13th 2007
Pre-PPV Wildfire: The Final Stop Before Heatwave
Schedule of Matches: ----------------------------
Echo vs Jonny Spade
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Jake Cheng vs Ricky Falco
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Nick Durden vs VorteX
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XS3 and Adrian Flamingo vs Scott Andrews and FSX
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The Senator vs Jason Freeman – ACW International Championship
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:28:31 GMT -5
Segment: Allow her to re-introduce herself (Credit: BK)
As the show begins, we immediately see a huge limo pull up in the parking lot of the arena and already many fans are speculating amongst themselves who could be in the back seat.
The rather aged driver makes his way out of the drivers seat before journeying to the back of the limo where he opens the door and the first thing we see under the door are the pink and white pradas of a little girl?
Fans are certainly taken back by this as we see a small black girl step out of the limo before letting out a huge yawn.
??: Finally, we're here! You know, in two years this place hasn't changed that much daddy.
Daddy?
A much larger foot steps out of the van and now the ACW Veteran steps into the camera shot to a enormous pop from the crowd. BK surveys the parking lot a bit, and he doesn't have much to argue about.
BK: I know, I know. I've been telling Ginger to do something with this place, but ah well. You ready to go in sweetie?
Princess: I guess.
BK(turning his attention to the limo driver): You can bring these bags to our locker room, yes?
Limo Driver: Certainly sir.
BK: Thank you. Let's go Princess.
BK takes his daughter Princess by her hand and the two begin their way into the arena. The pair pass several crew workers and wrestlers on their way to BK's locker room, and they manage to bump into ACW Interviewer, Kevin Anderson.
Kevin: You know BK, you must have a different woman on your arm everytime I see you.
The two share a hearty laugh, and in a very comedic fashion BK quickly silences the laughter and stares at Kevin Anderson. Kevin's hearty laugh slowly turns into a mild chuckle before shutting up altogether.
They continue down the hallway, passing even more wrestlers and greeting them before bumping into another familiar ACW talent.
Ginger: And who's this little cutie, BK?
BK: You know exactly who it is.
Princess: Look daddy, it's carrot top.
This certainly gets a rouse of laughter from the crowd as Ginger covers his head in shame. BK even gets a small chuckle out of it himself until Ginger darts his eyes in his direction, then BK brings his laughter to a screeching halt as Kevin did moments ago.
Ginger: ...get her out of here.
BK: Congrats on getting rid of that wart Dan by the way. On your next vacation, I'll make sure you get your Sunset Room at the Airport Hilton to relax man. You deserve it.
Ginger: Wha?
But BK continues his way down the hallway and before you know it, they reach to his locker room and BK opens the door. Once he does, to his surprise - he sees that Princess is already inside. Flabberghasted, he looks back at the door and looks back at Princess.
BK: How'd you do that?
Princess points off camera.
Soon enough, the camera swings around and sees the huge gaping hole in the wall is still there from last Thursday's little experiment.
A huge teardrop shows up behind BK's head, anime style.
BK: Oh, well. Umm...yeah, I'll have to get that fixed.
BK makes his way over to the mini-fridge and breaks out a can of soda, more specifically Sprite for another cheap advertisement by another ACW sponsor.
BK: Hey Sweetie, what fla-
He turns around and she's gone, probably through that hole in the wall.
BK: Aww nuts. I hate the Awful eights.
Fade Out.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:28:54 GMT -5
Segment: Getting To The Arena (Credit: Wyvern)
Traffic sucks. Plain and simple. It especially sucks when you’re just a few moments away from getting the ACW World Title stripped from you because an old 1980s-era hatchback stalls out on the freeway, blocking traffic. However, it takes more than that to put away the champion, as everyone’s least favorite person (possibly even to himself), Wyvern, hastily pulls into the ACW parking lot. He quickly parks his Audi in the first open space he sees, as he rushes out of the vehicle, rushing to the door leading to the backstage corridors.
As Wyvern crosses the threshold, he hears a voice clearing its throat. Dismayed, he turns around, to find Ginger standing there with his gaze on the watch.
Ginger: You know, you had about 15 seconds there.
Wyvern: Yeah, I was having a little bit of trouble on the freeway, and then I—
Ginger: Save it. You’re lucky…I was ready to strip of you of the godforsaken title if you were late at all. Be glad you don’t share that lateness trait of ol’ Jeff Hardy.
Wyvern: Hah. Yeah, so…I’m going to get going, mmkay?
Wyvern turns to leave, but Ginger clears his throat again.
Wyvern: What?
Ginger: I wasn’t done talking.
Wyvern: Oh, really?
Ginger: Yeah, really. I wanted to speak to you about Heatwave.
Wyvern: Alright. I guess I really don’t have anywhere to be tonight.
Laughing, Ginger pauses for a moment. This startles Wyvern, as he cannot decipher if this laughter is hinting towards something unfavorable for him or not.
Ginger: Actually, I just wanted to remind you of something.
Wyvern: And that is?
Ginger: Stay on guard at Heatwave. I’ve heard you talk about BK and Thunderkiss. And to tell you the truth, both of them are very formidable, despite you being undefeated against them. Don’t underestimate them.
Wyvern: Ummm…ok?
Wyvern shifts awkwardly, he’s never received any sort of REAL advice from Ginger.
Ginger: That’s all I wanted to say. Go, get where you need to be.
Wyvern walks off, puzzled, and a bit weirded out. Ginger: A little jumpy, are we?
End segment.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:29:10 GMT -5
Segment: Broken Warrior (Part 1) Credit: DiaVolo We find DiaVolo in the back corner of his lockerroom. He eyes are wet and blood shot like he has been crying and not sleeping. He holds in his hand the letter from last week. He reads it again and again as if he reads it more, things will get better. Dear DiaVolo, I’ve been watching you and following you for years now. “The Great Fighter of Evil”. You think you have fought evil? You haven’t seen evil like me. You want evil, I’ll show you evil. Signed, Your Long Lost Friend, I. As those words echo in his head the scene from after his match last week plays in his head like a DVD that is skipping on the worst part of the movie. The pain, rage, and humilation he felt surges through his body as if it was happening right then and there.He is looking at the end of the match when he holds up a thumb up as the fan chants and finally he switches to thumbs down to the fans excitement. Mint tries to hit him from behind but DiaVolo grabs him hits the S.T.F.D (Sunset driver). He hold Mint there and hooks his knees on his shoulders as the fans count out the 1-2-3! His music blasts on the speakers and DiaVolo climbs out of the ring and starts hanging out with the fans. All the sudden his music goes off and a dark sounds come over like the piano from phantom of the opera. A dark voice is heard.
I am Irie I know all about you DiaVolo You think you can fight evil? You think you can fight for the people? That’s what your dad thought, That’s what your dad was trying to do When I wrestled him, And KILLED HIM!
DiaVolos’ face goes back in shock as a big hulking figure appears on the entrance way (looks like big daddy V) wearing blacks pants and a long hooded robe. He starts walking toward the ring and DiaVolo runs at him. You can see the pain on DiaVolos’ face as he punches Irie as hard as he can but makes no head way. Irie picks him up above his head and throws him into the ring. He walks into the ring and picks DiaVolo by his throat with two hands. He chokes him for several seconds which drag like minutes before slamming him onto the mat. Smoke fills the arena and when it clears Irie is gone and DiaVolo is left in the middle of the ring. As he rests on all fours, the camera zooms in on a single tear running down the side of his cheek…
how can this be? How can this monster be HERE? Everything he tried to do last week was shut down by that beast and he was left humilated and injured in the middle of the ring. What was he going to do. There were no answers.......
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:29:25 GMT -5
OTA Segment: Mutual support (Credit: Latino/AK)
Friday, 11am
The sun is streaming through the windows of the Laureano household, warming Alicia’s muscles most pleasantly as she stands in her kitchen, ploughing through a stack of ironing. Though still a little achy from her match the night before, daylight has served to lighten her mood considerably, and she works methodically over the various shirts and sundry items with a practiced sweep of her right arm. She smiles a little as she recalls being told a little while previously by Tim Dwight that her striking power seemed to be much greater in her right arm than her left, despite her being left-handed.
Alicia (to herself): Hmm, I wonder, could ironing be sold as the next “miracle fitness programme?”………… somehow, I doubt it.
She hums softly to herself, interrupted only by the sound of the back door opening. There follows a few scuffling sounds, and then some playful barks.
??: Dios Mios, Pacino! Down, boy, down! You crazy lobo!
Alicia chuckles, and a few seconds later Victor “Latino” Laureano comes into the kitchen, cleaning what looks like a small wrench with a cloth as he walks.
Latino: There, that’s the tire pressures on your car fixed up.
Alicia: Thanks, honey.
Latino puts the wrench down, leaning his head to one side.
Latino: You… haven’t been going nuts around corners with a lot of drift again, have you?
His query is met with a momentary silence which is telling.
Alicia: …….Why do you say that?
Latino: Because you’ve got a flat spot on your front left again.
Alicia blushes a little.
Alicia: I wasn’t even going that fast…
Latino smiles and wags a finger at her.
Latino: Chula, you know what we agreed. Save it for a track day, you know you’ve got one arranged in October that I got you for your birthday.
Alicia: Yeah, I know.
She folds up a T-shirt and lays another one out on the board. Picking the iron up, she feels her husband’s hands creeping around her midriff, his lightly stubbled chin resting on her shoulder, and she leans back a little against him.
Latino: Tu eres incredibly sexy when you’re working, Mami.
Alicia chuckles again.
Alicia: I know, that’s why all those Playboy readers’ wives shots are of women doing housework. The clean clothes are just a useful by-product.
Latino laughs in turn, and kisses her on the neck before moving away. Alicia continues to get on with the chores as Latino potters around, looking for the instant coffee and a couple of mugs.
Latino: Time for a pick-me-up. You could probably use one, I know you didn’t sleep much last night.
Alicia does not reply, but her expression seems slightly resigned. Latino flicks the electric kettle on.
Latino: Que pasa? Post-match wind-down took a little longer than normal? Or… is it more of a pre-match thing?
He looks at her, and Alicia answers with her eyes first. She is not afraid to let her spouse know that she is nervous, but neither does she want to burden him with her own cascading thoughts, of which there have been a great many in the past week.
Alicia: A bit of both, I suppose.
She puts the iron down, and folds the next shirt up. Latino toys with one of the coffee spoons.
Latino: Chulita...you know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what.
Alicia stops folding and looks up at him.
Latino: I don’t give a damn what Ginger says, at Heatwave I’ll be there to back you up, even if I have to taken away yelling Attica again. They'll have to catch me before they can kick me out, but even if I’m out of sight, you know I’ll show the second you need me.
His voice conveys a whole host of emotions. Alicia knows how frustrating things have been for Victor since his match against Rattlesnake; he has the wrestling itch back, and it demands to be scratched.
She considers how best to approach the subject; she could ask him not to interfere… but she decides that the two of them have to trust one another to make the right choices, a theme she’s been giving a lot of consideration to lately. So she simply smiles at him.
Alicia: I know you will, darling.
Latino watches her for a few more moments as she finishes up the last items in the basket. The pair of them have a deep, unspoken agreement; their need for one another is not something they hide, and yet simultaneously they have both found the courage to let the other follow their individual paths, Alicia’s within ACW and Latino’s currently outside of it. Together and separate at the same time, like the way light can be both a particle and a wave.
Alicia stacks the clothes up, largest on the bottom, smallest on the top. The kettle clicks, and Latino pours the coffee out. In these few moments, no words are spoken, but the perfectly unremarkable little domestic scene encapsulates something extraordinary; a mutual, complete bond between two people that needs no further embellishment, no grand explanation of its value. Carefully, Alicia picks the clothes up and puts them back into the basket to take upstairs.
Alicia: There, now we’re all straight on the laundry front. You should have everything you need for the next couple of days.
Latino gives a cheesy thumbs up as he sips his coffee.Pacino comes laying down by his owner's feet as Latino glances down at him.
Latino: Don't worry. I'm sure that you'll have an easier time than me. Just you and Durden, is it?
He makes no accusation in his tone, but Alicia moves to reassure him anyway.
Alicia: No, Renix is going to be there the whole time, it will probably take both of us to keep Nick focused on his training. He does sometimes slack off if not prodded every now and then, kind of like another guy I know…
She grins, and Latino feigns annoyance.
Latino: Ohhh, that’s low coming from the woman who said she was going to spend last weekend clearing out her wardrobe and managed to throw out a grand total of absolutely nothing.
Alicia: Hey, I wear everything that’s in my clothes cupboard.
Latino: Yea, like that black biker jacket with the 80’s padded shoulders. You’re never out of that one.
Alicia: Well-
Latino: And the lime green baggy sweater that makes you look like the Hulk. And the infinite pairs of beach sandals that you’ve bought every time we go away because you can’t find any of the ones you bought previously. And…
Alicia has already left the room, and Latino follows her, continuing to document her crimes against fashion.
There’s no way to know what storms the remainder of the summer will bring, but on this evidence, AK’s original couple will continue to weather them together…
Fade.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:29:55 GMT -5
Segment: The Nerves? (Credit: Wyvern)
A few moments have passed since Wyvern spoke with Ginger, and it’s a little bit odd to see the World champion in this current state. He’s looking around awkwardly, stumbling around backstage. He continuously looks over his shoulders, as if waiting for something or someone to come and approach him. His over-analyzing causes him to trip over a few crates.
Wyvern: Damn it! Ugh…
?: Are you okay?
Wyvern looks up, as a ACW technician looks up at him…a REAL technician, not “technician”. The man’s all-black get-up lets Wyvern know he’s a staffed employee, and allows Wyvern a bit of time to get safely, knowing he’s not going to have to defend himself. Wyvern brushes himself off.
Wyvern: Of course I’m fine, fool. I’m the ACW World Champion.
Tech: I know that. But apparently you just jobbed to that stack of crates.
Wyvern: Shut it.
Tech: How’d you run into those?
The technician points to where the crates were, and sure enough, they’re at the far side of the wall in the hallway. Wyvern goes bug-eyed as he realizes his clumsiness.
Wyvern: I don’t have the faintest.
Tech: Well, I’ll tell you what. You better keep your eyes open. I’ve been watching intently these past few weeks, and a lot of my buddies have you pegged to go down at Heatwave, despite being the odds on favorite.
Wyvern: And…how’s that supposed to be relevant to anything?!
Tech: It’s easy…you’re losing focus, Wyvern.
With that, Wyvern rushes off, even more perturbed than before, as the technician looks at him quizzically.
As Wyvern rushes down the hallway, he notices a figure, laughing at him in the distance. Wyvern pauses, and looks around, before rushing off towards the figure, who eludes him into the shadows, as Wyvern gives chase.
End segment.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:30:20 GMT -5
Segment: “We Interrupt this Broadcast ...” Credit: T-Kiss [Suddenly and without warning, this edition of Monday Night Warfare is interrupted by the caption “ATTENTION ACW FANS”, which is soon replaced by the image of Thunderkiss sitting calmly behind a news desk, his hands interlocked and placed in front of him.] Thunderkiss: Hi. My name is Thunderkiss and I have something very important to share with each of you wonderful fans tonight, but before I do, I am “required” to provide the following disclaimer: my following views are not those of the network, Alpha Chumpionship Wrestling nor its advertisers - though they should be, because my opinions are like rays of sunshine from God.[With a cheesy grin on his face, Thunderkiss swings his chair directly into camera shot “B”] Thunderkiss: Now in the past, you know that I have saved you, the PPV connoisseur, both time and money with my “do not buy this PPV” alerts. However, for our annual Heatwave PPV, I will not be issuing such an alert. Instead, I shall be issuing my first ever “If you do not order this PPV, you are a douche” alert. Because seriously, if you don’t ... you are going to look like one huge douche bag the next day. All your friends at the water cooler will be discussing my huge ACW World Title win, and you will not have anything to add because you were a cheap ass douche bag and didn’t order it. Thunderkiss: Now you may be saying right now ... “Why should I order this PPV”. Well, in case you didn’t hear me a second ago you deaf son of a bitch, I said I would be winning the ACW World Championship ... and wrestling TWICE in doing so. That’s like an extra Thunderkiss match - FOR FREE! That’s right, ACW is not going to charge MORE for this PPV even though you get 100 percent more TK. Only a moron wouldn’t pick this deal up. Unfortunately, this world is full of them ... so let me break out the chart for you visual learners. Thunderkiss: Now lets examine bracket “A”. As we can see here, I will be wrestling a crackerjack. And when I win, I will proceed to bracket “B”, where I will take on yet another crackerjack. Now, the names of those I will be facing is unimportant, that’s why we label them as they are - “crackerjacks” What IS important is that this chart demonstrates that I will indeed be wrestling twice, so I hope now everyone watching has finally comprehended this.Thunderkiss: And if you still can’t, go cheer for the Senator. You deserve him, and he deserves you. I now return you to another shitty TK free edition of ACW Monday Night Warfare. AND REMEMBER - he’s the one they call Doctor Feelgood, because he’s the one who makes you feel allllllright.[FADE]
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:30:39 GMT -5
Segment: Eternal Darkness of the Cluttered Mind (Credit: FSX)
When you speak of something frail and defenseless against attack, or when the topic happens to arise in conversation, what is the first thing that comes to mind? For most people, you can generally assume they will think of something weak and insignificant, or perhaps something that has no means of defense. Perhaps they will interpret it as the chance to bring up a hypothetical situation, where a creature is severely weakened or in a lifeless state..and can simply not defend itself from defeat. These are all logical turning points in such a conversation, but not many would think to lead it to the human mind. Why not, you may wonder? Many humans have grown a specific aptitude or resistance to the mental or emotional attack of another. When trauma presents itself, many are able to simply block out the scene and continue on with their lives, unaware that it was eating away at their sanity. For most people, this results in a numbing of the pain, and the situation itself ceases to exist after a set period of time. For others, however, it will continue to eat away at their sanity, only growing heavier on their mind each passing day as something insignificant is added to it, growing and growing..until it reaches a breaking point. This is, of course, a rare occurrence, though it should never be taken lightly.
What is the effect of a human mind crumbling over the stress of life, however? Is it truly as destructive as it's made out to seem? Yes, yes it is. It's an unrepairable evil that will constantly haunt the mind following the success of stress and pain, and will eternally remain with the person. There is no escape to this, you see. You can't simply forget that part of your life, or erase it from you. Every little thing helps to shape a person, and mental anguish isn't exactly a little thing to begin with. It leads to insanity, brief periods of psychosis, and often ends in suicide. It's a horribly painful process to bare, and many find themselves unable to escape it's linear path of destruction. Mental institutions and prescription drugs are believed to help numb the urges of the mind for self-destruction, and briefly return a person to sanity, but they only intensify the inner rages when that person is away from these temporary cures. When their vices take over. When their mind is free, once again...
This situation is one that befalls a man by the name of Fallen Souls, or at least he performs under said name. Following a horrible incident that occurred in his childhood, he was a broken individual..and had trouble containing his rage and pain. Fortunately, in his early teen years, he managed to overcome this, and seemingly eliminate it from his life forever...but fate has a strange way of reawakening pain. You see, despite the fact he lived with these memories clouded over and shielded, there was always a part of him that was suffering. A part of him that was crying out for help. On the date of the pay per view event, Seven Deadly Sins, in 2006 that is, that pain finally re-emerged. It was truly inevitable at that point however, as Fallen had been on that dark road ever since Omega Effect, but no one reached out to offer a helping hand. No one attempted to help him deal with his pain. No one seemed to care...This is what led to his year in a mental institution. His year of reliving the events again and again. His year of being less of a man, and more of a beast.
But to the surprise of many, he reemerged in 2007, suddenly appearing as if he was miraculously a changed man. He did seem that way after all, acting the way he had all those years ago when the memories had finally left him, and appearing to be truly happy. This explains why he was given his release from the asylum, and returned his job with ACW...but could it all just be a mask? Despite the fact he appears happy...is he really? Or is this all a charade for the viewing public? Based off the fact that he seems to of gone off the edge on a few occasions since his return, it may very well be so. But as there is no solid proof of this, he continues to roam free. He walks the halls still with a smirk on his face, a sickening look of satisfaction. But why? Why did his mood seem to change on a whim? Why did he seem to have such little control? And why was he rampaging through the backstage area?! Oh my!
It's true, you see, as FSX was seen rushing through the backstage area, stopping only temporarily to look in all directions, before continuing to sprint. There was a look of nervous paranoia brandished on his face as he seemed to have no idea where he was going, though he appeared to have a general idea of just what he was searching for. He continued on running, passing many confused wrestlers and Interns on his way as he searched, before coming to a sudden stop near the ACW ring-entrance and turning around, sprinting in the opposite direction only to stop where two young Intern's were having coffee together. They appeared to be chatting of current events, though they slowly came to a stop as they heard the loud panting of Fallen Souls in the close vicinity. They both stared at each other confused for a moment, before one turned to see Fallen breathing heavily over him, and literally lept into the other Intern's arms.
Intern #2: Holy shit!!!
Intern #1: Oh god!!! Don't jump on me, you idiot!!
Both men collapsed in a heap, beginning to groan and complain a few moments later as the feeling of their fall began to set in. Fallen simply scoffed at their pain and walked forward, looking around the general area, before glaring at the Interns.
FSX: WHERE is it?!
Intern #2: W..what the hell are you talking about?!
Intern #1: Yeah...what's 'it' exactly?
Despite the fact Fallen appeared to have no intention of striking the two men down just yet, they both remained in their heap on the floor, not about to make a sudden move and get a swift kick to the face.
FSX: The tape...I need the fucking tape NOW!!!
Intern #2: I don't know what your talking about!!!!
Intern #1: Yeah!! What tape?!
Fallen seemed to stall upon hearing this, freezing in place as the Intern's looked to each other confused, before beginning to laugh hysterically. He through his head back as he laughed, beginning to leap and jump around a bit as he seemed to be busting a gut. Both of the Intern's looked quite startled at this, before staring at each other and simply shrugging, beginning to laugh as well. The merriment continued on for a few moments, before Fallen suddenly stopped and glared at the two men again, before literally diving onto them, swinging wildly.
FSX: I NEED THE FUCKING TAPE!!!!
FSX continued to jab and pound at both of the men, who seemed to be quite defenseless due to being tangled together in the first place. A few moments passed as Fallen continued his rapid assault, before a few security guys suddenly ran up out of nowhere and attempted to drag Fallen's form from the men. Two of them continued to clutch at him and pull, put FSX had quite the grip on one of the Intern's heads, and they were unable to pull him off them. With this, a third man rushed in to break his hold on the Intern, and they eventually managed to pull his struggling form off the men.
FSX: LET ME GO YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!! I NEED TO GET THE TAPE!!!
Security #1: Woah..woah..calm down, buddy!
Security #2: Yeah, we're here to help!
FSX: Who the fuck are you kidding?! Your just trying to stop me from kicking their asses!!
Security #1: True..
The two continue to try and hold Fallen back, as the third man moves to stand between them and the fallen Intern's
Head Security: Come on, these guys don't have what your looking for!!
FSX: YES THEY DO!! THEY FUCKING...fucking..huh?
Slowly but surely, Fallen's struggles came to a stop and he just stood their, staring blankly at the final security officer. What could it be about this man that stopped his rampage. Was it his eyes? Or maybe that fact he was the head-honcho of security! No..that couldn't be it.
FSX: ...Gary?
Wait, What?! It was!! Who'd of thought that former ACW and Fallout wrestler extrodinaire GARY was working the security circuit right now. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Well, not mighty, but still!
Gary: Hey cool, you recognized me and everything!!
FSX: Er.....shouldn't you be like, wrestling somewhere?
Gary: What? Oh no..I'm doing this until Fallout comes back.
FSX: ...Fallout isn't coming back.
Gary: It is so!!! Don't say that!!!
Voice in the distance: Alright, what the hell is going on here?!
With that, the attention to the situation suddenly swerved to another individual approaching in the distance. The two men that were holding Fallen had released him at this point, as they both turned to address the person who was approaching. Perhaps it's to no surprise that the man is the Chairman then, Gingerdude himself!
Ginger: I try to just wait in my office, and relax, but then my coffee doesn't show up..and now I see this?! What the hell are you guys doing?!
Gary: Well, you see--
Ginger: Wait..what? Gary?! For the last time, you don't work here anymore!! Get the hell out of here!!
Security #1: Wait a second..you said you were our boss!
Both of the other security guys look a bit taken back, as Gary can only rub the back of his head and shrug.
Gary: Oops..?
Ginger: Get him out of my sight, NOW!!
With no other real choice in the matter, the security guys slowly walk over to Gary and they each take a hold of one of his arms, leading him down the hallway. Too bad...Gary would of made for great security to jobbers. Back to the situation at hand, however. As everyone has generally dispersed, Fallen simply smirks and turns to make his leave, before being stopped immediately by Ginger.
Ginger: Where do you think your going?!?!
FSX: Well, you said to get out of here 'NOW', right?
Ginger: Yes, that's right...
Fallen can only smirk, turning to leave again before once more being stopped.
Ginger: Everyone BUT you...What the hell is going on here, Fallen?!
FSX: This? Oh, it's really nothing..I was just asking them about a missing tape.
Ginger: You don't ask a question with your fists. What the hell were you thinking?!?...I suppose it doesn't matter.
FSX: Wait...what? Really?
Ginger: Yeah... It happens. Go on your way, get ready for your match..we'll speak of this at a later time.
Well, this sure is...unusual of Ginger, to say the least. The chairman did brandish a sinister smile however as Fallen quirked an eyebrow. Just what could he have planned? It was really know of the good X's business at this point. He still had to find his tape! With a simple shrug, Fallen turned once again and walked off, leaving the now chuckling Ginger to himself.
Ginger: I've already fired you once, Fallen... It will be quite a bit of fun when I fire you the second time, however, and send you back into the a--
Voice: Hey!! Wait!!! X!!
A voice, in the distance? Asking for FSX? Who could it be? That's likely what Ginger was wondering, though when he turned the only answer he got was a large bald man knocking him down as he rushed by. It appeared that Will Anger had seen Fallen leaving down this hallway, and was now rushing to catch up to him. But why? Perhaps it had something to do with the tape in his hand! Oh joy! A happy ending! Or is it...? Despite the fact that Fallen may be getting the tape he was so tirelessly in search of, we are yet to learn of Ginger's sinister plot. Could the chairman honestly end up firing Fallen Souls yet again? Or perhaps everything will blow up in his face this time around. Only time will tell, and likely our answer may be revealed sooner then we all may expect..but for now, on with the show!
Fade out.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:30:54 GMT -5
Match 1: Echo vs. Jonny Spade (Credit: Hunter)
No time for hasty introductions today people, we've got a match to get to. In fact, I never really understood the concept of hasty introductions. Why be hasty at all? Wouldn't taking your time lead to an overall better quality for the match? In fact, wouldn't it lead to an overall better quality for everything you do in life? I personally think that if we take a bit of time out of every day to actually take a breath and ponder just exactly what can be done, we will find so much more. Like Big Foot. Why can't be find Big Foot? Because we've been looking too quickly! We need...like...DNA testing and stuff! Well I suppose there are less hasty things. Hang on, what does hasty even mean? For that matter, what does life mean? Oh never mind, I'm getting too ahead of myself. I promised no hasty introductions, and that's what you'll get. Wait. FUCK!
BAM, Jonny nails Echo with a clothesline and knocks her down! Before she can recover, be brings her down with another clothesline, and then attempts to drop an elbow, but she rolls out of the way, kips up, and delivers a stiff Abisegiri (which is still difficult to spell, damn it) to his head. He hits the mat and she quickly covers him, but he throws her off just as fast. She runs at him for another kick, but he throws her leg out of his way, lifts her up, and hits her with a blue thunder bomb. He covers, but she kicks out just before the two. He lifts her up and hits her with an assortment of strikes, and then attempts a spinebuster. She has other plans, however, as she is able to kick him back and hit him with a snap uranage. He recoils up to his feet, and as he turns around, she nails him with the Perdition's Edge! She covers...but he JUST kicks out before the three.
Now that we're in the final paragraph, clearly everyone is going to be busting out their best stuff. As Jonny gets to his feet, he sees Echo prepare for the Take 2 Nap, and when she is within grabbing distance, he lifts her up and slams her back down with the S-Drop #3. The fans cheer loudly as he covers...but cease doing so when Echo kicks out. Echo gets to her feet and ducks a clothesline, and then delivers a swift kick to Jonny's stomach. She then runs at the ropes, rebounds off of them, and nails him in the head with the Gleaming Magus. She covers, but once again Jonny JUST kicks out. Echo lifts Jonny up and kicks him a few times, and then leaps onto his shoulders for the Lacrimosa. Just as she attempts said move, Jonny lifts her up and nails her with a powerbomb. Realizing full well that this will not secure him the pinfall, he lifts her up once again, and then puts her in the Sliver Spade...but halfway through the move, Echo manages to roll up Jonny with a Crucifix Pin to pick up the win.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:31:24 GMT -5
Segment: Six-Letter Word For Romantic Complication (Credit: Echo)
“Something is distracting you lately.”
It wasn’t a question.
I paused at the top of my two hundred and sixth pushup just long enough to throw a baleful glare at Joachim, who was reclining on the couch filling out a crossword puzzle. He, as always, didn’t deign to look at me. “You seem confident about that.”
Granted, I was bluffing. Something was distracting me, even if I refused to think about it enough to determine what it was. He was right as always. I didn’t admit it, though, I just started on number two hundred and seven.
“It’s because I’m right,” he answered, confirming my suspicions. “Eight-letter word for ‘slaughterhouse’.”
“Abattoir.”
“Good girl. Now, what’s on your mind?”
“Nothing I’m telling you.” Two hundred and fifteen, two hundred and sixteen…I was going to force my mind to focus if it was the last thing I ever did. To my side, Joachim adjusted the velvet kid gloves on one hand and looked at me with something resembling amusement.
“Really now?” came a droll chuckle from his mouth. “You don’t want to get it off your chest before going out there? I’m not sure you want that kind of baggage in the ring.”
A grimace escaped me, and I stopped at two-twenty. Standing up, I headed over to the wall and toweled off (managed to break a sweat, which was good; at least I’d be physically ready tonight), then grabbed a bottle of cinnamon perfume and started laying it on heavily. “Back then,” I managed, interspersed with all this, “it was different. If I didn’t win, we didn’t eat. Now, they pay me for showing up. Things change.”
“Still…” I knew Joachim was watching me apply the perfume. Even when he made me completely miserable (which was usually par for the course, except for the sporadic high points), I’d never stopped putting it on for him. “You don’t want to go out there and give a subpar showing. That’s pride, not money.”
He was right again. I’d be doing myself, Jonny Spade, and the world a disservice if I went out there unfocused and ruined everything. It was taking a while to get the hang of this wrestling thing, but the sooner I buckled down and started really going all-out, the sooner I’d get used to it.
“Hm. ‘Consulting the crystal ball.’ Ten letters. Second is I, penultimate is O.”
“Divination.”
“Thank you. And if you don’t address it, it’s going to get worse.”
I threw the towel at him in response, missing by about a mile. “For chrissakes, ‘Chim, give it a rest.”
“Hmph. You always did run from your problems,” he muttered, going back to seventeen across.
It didn’t dawn on me till later that I should’ve found that statement at least slightly suspicious at the time. Right then, I was too self-consumed to worry about much of anything, though, and it went right over my head. Something was definitely eating at me, and it was something I felt vaguely guilty about, which is why I didn’t want to address it…
…no. Later, I promised myself, slipping out the door. I’ll give it some serious thought later.
Later.
End.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:31:40 GMT -5
Segment: Retro Segment #93 (Credit: Yoko / Sarin)
February 10th, 2006 Okinawa, Japan Yuki’s Room
Yoko and Sarin are both looking over Yuki’s shoulder as she opens a photo on the computer. It’s of a gangster looking man standing next to Mercer Stanton, as well as several other men, posing in front of a building with the name Stanton Industries.
Yuki: I’ve been talking to this man, and he clearly knows Stanton.
Yoko: How’d you get this photo?
Yuki: He sent it, bragging about being his friend to impress me. I posted on the SI message boards, making note that I was a girl, and he contacted me.
Sarin: Who is he?
Yuki: His name is Dan Crenshaw, but he insists on being called Fancy Dan. I don’t think they’re friends, but he DOES know him.
Sarin: Can he get us to him?
Yuki: He can…I think. Once I woo him some more, I’m going to ask to meet.
Yoko: Wait wait, you’re dating him?!
Yuki: Well duh, using my girlish charms is the only advantage I can use. I’m not actually me, I’m a twenty year old blonde American going to Tokyo University.
Yoko: No, you have to stop it.
Sarin: Oh, shut up. She isn’t in love. She’s just helping us out.
Yuki: Yeah, I’m sure you’ve done the same thing to get something you want.
Sarin: Most girls do.
Yoko grumbles while they just giggle.
Yoko: So how will this work?
Yuki: Once he comes to pick me up, you’ll kidnap him and make him lead you to Stanton. Easy.
Yoko: Yeah, easy. But you still have to get through the hard part; e-dating this loser until he trusts you.
Yuki: I can manage.
Yoko: If you say so.
Beep.
Sarin: Oh, there he is. We’ll leave you lovebirds alone now.
Yuki sticks her tongue out as Sarin and Yoko leave.
To Be Continued…
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:31:55 GMT -5
Segment: The Hell? (Credit: Wyvern)
Continuing to chase the shadowy figure for sometime, Wyvern has been exerting himself a lot this early in the show. He manages to hit a dead end.
No one.
Quickly, Wyvern spins around, to see something that makes him go pale…
Wyvern: No…it CAN’T be.
The vision Wyvern sees moves in on him, as a rarely startled Wyvern paces back to the wall, in a moment of panicked fear.
Wyvern: This is truly impossible…
The figure moves in closely, as Wyvern slides over to the corner. He’s trapped now, and without escape.
Wyvern: WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
The figure moves in, and the figure appears itself to be something much different than what Wyvern had thought, as an old lady approaches him.
Old Lady: Sonny, are you alright?
Wyvern: Huh?
It’s definitely a very old lady, who appears to be a nighttime custodian in the arena ACW is at tonight. She holds something familiar in her hands, the ACW World Title.
Old Lady: I said, are you okay?
Wyvern: Yeah, yeah…of course. May I ask HOW you have that in your hands?
Wyvern points to the title belt.
Old Lady: You dropped it, silly.
The old lady hands it to Wyvern, who looks rather appreciative, not to mention quite elated it’s not whatever he thought was approaching. The woman smiles, as the usually sinister Wyvern forces a smirk to show appreciation.
Old Lady: I’ll get going now. Relax, there’s nothing to worry about, see?
Wyvern: Yeah, I guess you’re right. The old lady walks off into the distance, as Wyvern pulls the title to him, and slings it over his shoulder. As he does so, he hears a metallic thud on the ground. Bending down, the title belt falls off of his shoulder onto whatever else fell over. As Wyvern picks up the title belt, he reaches underneath it to pick up the other object, as he reels back at what he sees…
Two World Titles, his most recent one…and the charred remains of the previous belt.
End segment.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:32:13 GMT -5
Segment: Beauty Theater (Credit: FSX)
Constantly, it is likely that life will introduce new problems before others are dealt with and solved. This happens to everyone, though when it occurs there always seems to be something quite personal about it, though you can never figure out what. Perhaps it's the new problem introduced, or simply how it accents the one that already exists, or maybe it's even something else entirely. Whatever it may be, it hurts in many ways. No one really likes emotional pain, and no one really enjoys seeing another in emotional pain...well..unless it was their goal. The thing about emotional pain, however, is that it can breed and become many different things; such as psychological trauma. Why do I bring up that in particular? It's relevant, that's why. But how? Now you will see.
We enter to witness a man that many have become quite familiar with over the past years, and some have become quite disturbed with over the past few weeks, Fallen Souls. Shortly after the triumphant end of Seven Deadly Sins, Fallen has been taken to a much darker place due to what has occurred around him. Comments made from one Matt Irvine have gotten to him, though they were simply harmless at first, have led to notably violent urges in Fallen. Many would believe that the fact the two were scheduled to meet tonight in the ring would be enough for him to let out some steam, and perhaps return to a stable state..but it doesn't seem the case. Despite the fact their match has yet to even occur, the look on his face was generally creepy. A crooked grin displayed, he clutched a video close to him as he walked through the halls, with no regard for anyone else around him. This led to many poor, helpless souls diving out of his path, or getting thrown to the ground as he passed. What could be the rush?
It didn't even appear as if Fallen knew exactly where he was headed, as he took quite a few stops to look back and forth before continuing, even on a few occasions turning around as he met a dead end. The smirk on his face was quickly becoming a frown of anger as he seemed to be lost in the backstage area, beginning to shake a bit as he came to a stop. Perhaps his frustration was the reason he couldn't find where he was looking for, or perhaps he simply didn't know where it was. Either way, he obviously needed help. But how could he possibly get it? The interns were quite terrified of him following his rampage through the backstage area earlier in the night, and many were just avoiding him. If only an angel could appear, to lead his way!....and, as if on cue, a bright light shot out from over head! It glimmered above him, as an odd sound of choir singers was heard in the distance. Rather then think of this as bizarre, a large grin came to Fallen's face as a Janitor came over to fix the light, and his problems were solved! The Janitor must logically know!
FSX: You, there! Elderly wise janitor!
Janitor: Wha..? Elderly?
The man was quite young actually, likely younger then Fallen himself, but the delusional see what the delusional want to see.
FSX: Whatever. I need you to tell me something!
Janitor: Hold a second, I'm kind of busy here.
Fallen looked quite a bit taken back at this, taking a step back as the janitor pulled out a step ladder from seemingly nowhere and climbed it, apparently looking to discover the problem with the faulty lighting.
FSX: ...It won't take long.
Janitor: Neither will this, so if you'll wait patiently.
FSX: ...Alright, alright...
All he could do was sigh and lean back against the wall as he watched the Janitor do his work, whistling a bit of a tune as he waited, beginning to drum a bit on his legs as time seemed to pass endlessly. Eventually, he took a step forward again, and kind of tapped the Janitor on the back..
FSX: It's just I'm kind of in a hurry.
Janitor: Look buddy, I said it would only take a minute! So wait, or find someone else to help you!
FSX: Alright! Alright!! Fine...
With that, he returned to his rested position against the wall, humming a bit to himself now as he awaited the Janitor to complete his task. How long could it honestly take to repair a faulty light, anyway? Apparently quite awhile. After a few more minutes had passed, Fallen appeared to be quite irritated with the fact he had to wait on the man, a look of spite in his eyes as he moved forward again and pulled the man off the ladder quite forcefully. The Janitor appeared quite startled at first, before staring back to him frustrated.
Janitor: I was almost done, you impatient fuck!
FSX: Whatever! I just need you to tell me one damn thing and you make me wait twenty minutes! What's so hard about that, anyway? Can't do two fucking things at once or something? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Janitor: Wha..? Well I --
FSX: And what kind of incompetent Janitor are you anyway?! You were sent down here to fix a light and it's taken you a good ten minutes just to do that? Why?! Do you have serious problems or something? Well?! WELL?! Here, look!
As the Janitor remained in a stunned silence, Fallen shoved him from his path and quickly climbed the ladder, inspecting the bulb for a moment, before beginning to tinker with it. After a short period of roughly thirty seconds, it was back to the correct brightness, and Fallen literally lept back down the ladder and glared at the man.
FSX: Well?! Fucking happy now?! It's done!
Janitor: Didn't that burn your hands...?
FSX: No! I don't get burnt by a damn bulb! It doesn't matter anyway! Can you help me now?!
Janitor: Sure, I guess. What do you need, buddy?
FSX: Finally..
A smile returns to Fallen's face as his demeanor seems to lighten up, sighing softly as he looked down to the video in his hands.
FSX: I need to know where the Entourage's locker room is.
Janitor: Er...really? Is that all?
FSX: Yup. See? Why couldn't you of just told me earlier? Wouldn't of been so difficult, no?
Janitor: Wouldn't of been difficult at all. I could of just pointed.
FSX: Wait..what do you mean?
The Janitor simply shrugs and points to the door behind him, which is clearly labeled 'ENTOURAGE'. Was it really there that entire time? Had it been under his nose all the while? Had he actually LEANED BACK on the door?! What are the chances?! Pretty good in ACW. Quite flustered and frustrated, FSX waved for the confused Janitor to be on his way as he approached the door, knocking on it twice. Finally, he had reached his goal! But really, what reason could he have for coming all this way? Why did he want to find their locker room so desperately? Is he going to kill Matt Irvine?!?! Probably not. Probably...Anyway, a few moments later foot steps and rustling could be heard from the other side of the door, as if someone was busy hiding specific things, before opening it. Who was there to open it? The same Intern that had been sent to previously tell Christine of her date on Meltdown. Eerie...Was he a spy? Well, it didn't matter now. The 'Intern' had a smirk on his face as he saw Fallen standing there, giving a bit of a wave.
Intern: How you been? Good?
FSX: ...What are you doing here?
Intern: I get them coffee every show, and no one was here at the moment, so I figured I'd relax here.
FSX: Yes..because that makes sense.
Did he truly care enough to ruin the Intern's fun, however? No. Maybe he'll even break something! Wouldn't that be a blast? It didn't really matter, regardless. Fallen came there for one reason, and one reason only; apparently to deliver a video tape.
FSX: It doesn't matter...just leave this for Matt. Make sure he watches it...
Intern: Well, alright I guess. I'll leave a note or something.
Finally, he'd managed to deliver the tape that had taken him through most of the labyrinth that was the ACW arena. But still, even as he handed the man the tape, and had the door quickly slammed in his face, FSX knew this was only the first step. His quest was only beginning, but the goal was quite obvious. He didn't want to beat Matt Irvine. He didn't care to prove he was the 'True X'. He just wanted to hurt him. To cause him pain and trauma, for the distress he had caused. For the mistakes he has made, and will make. Winning will only be the icing on his victory...but will he achieve it? As he made his leave, the look of confidence and satisfaction on his face only made you assume Fallen would.
End.
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:32:38 GMT -5
Segment: GET UP! (Credit: Michael, AK)
“Oh fuckin’ great...IT’S LOCKED,” I scream out, banging my right fist against it in a bit of frustration. Not only am I tired, but I didn’t get too much sleep on the plane, which makes me rather cranky and more likely to go into emotional changes like this. I sigh, louder than I actually mean to, and with that comes a booming voice of someone way too familiar from out in the hall way.
“MISTERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...”
“...crap,” I mutter, as all of the sudden, I notice him standing right behind me. Nonchalantly, I turn around and found myself staring right at the man of the hour. The revolutionary of Friday Nights. Mister Ken...
“...KENNEDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY...”
I just stand there, staring at him stone-faced, throwing down the attitude the Lance Storm way. A few seconds later after being consumed by his own ego, he finally looks me in the eye and finishes with the patented “...KEN-UH-DAY!!!!!!!!!!”
All of the sudden, his eyes widen and he takes a step back, somewhat feigning a star-struck reaction. “And why the hell are you...Nick Durden...here, today of all days?”
“...I could ask you what the heck you’re doing in ACW also, y’know,” I reply coolly, hoisting the bag with all my wrestling gear back onto my left shoulder. I can notice him staring at the white headband around my forehead remarkably, as he begins to chuckle, shaking his right index finger a bit. All the sudden, I feel his right hand slap against my chest, as he breaks out laughing.
“Oh yeah, you got me there. That’s splendid, Nick! ‘OH, MISTER KENNEDY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN ACW?’”
He begins breaking out in laughter again, as I can see the ever so great anime sweatdrop slowly dripping down the left side of my head, “...you’re an idiot...” is all I whisper to myself, before turning my back around and walking away from the scene, as he still is laughing.
Looking around, all seems unfamiliar. The feel of the arena, the environment...it isn’t exactly the usual feel Meltdown or Warfare had. Either something special is about to happen tonight, or...
My thoughts, however, are interrupted by the look on this next man’s eyes. A look I recognize all too well from all his TV show appearances. Demented and extremely “weird” are the words to describe this guy, who is holding a ticking clock on one hand and a bunch of worms on the other. I stop and he begins circling around me with that creepy walk of his. I manage to keep my cool, I’ve seen worse freaks of nature before...Daniel Human and Starkweather being the first two to pop in my mind. They’re scarier than this...scarier than the Boogeyman himself.
“Coming to get me awfully early, aren’t you?” I say sarcastically, a smirk coming to my lips as I turn around and meet him with a precise knee to the kidneys. As he doubles over almost immediately, my left foot comes from the side and gives Boogs a reminder of why he still checked under his bed for Chuck Norris with a fierce roundhouse kick. Seems I have knocked him out with it, as he lies out cold on the ground before him. I slowly begin walking away, wondering what the hell is going on. Two bonafide “WWE” superstars in the ACW locker room area? What’s this? Have we gone to war all the sudden with them? Do they finally realize BK is better than Triple H or something?
As I see the next opening on the hallway, I take a right. Stopping for a second, I notice the shoelaces on my right red and white Vans are untied. I get down to one knee and begin tying it back. At that moment, the corner of my eyes notice a pair of smooth legs that come all the way up to a plaid skirt, a pink no sleeves...and it takes my best efforts to not look any further. What the fucking hell is going on? Michelle McCool...in ACW? As she passes by, she seems to be distracted by something else. That gives me enough time to just run the hell out of there, without any abandon. Something’s going on...and it feels as though I’m in the middle of a cruel, sickening joke all the sudden.
Okay, so there is running and immense thoughts involved as I come down the hallway. However, while I remind myself I should watch where I’m going, I crash straight into a certain someone, sending us both to the ground rather quickly.
As I look upwards, I get a look...a rather “scary” look, so to speak. The man who walks like he’s a woman soldier trying to play a man...and also a man who claims his semen is worth a multi-millionaire company. Well, that’s what Benoit told me anyways...a man known to all others as...
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY SHOW?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”
...Vincent Kennedy McMahon. And apparently, I’m S.O.L. at that exact moment...I could see the security guards walking down the hallway and surrounding Mr. McMahon. I widen my eyes again...from the left to the right, I see Big Daddy V, Snitsky, Matt Striker, Kevin Thorn, Marcus Cor Von, and Umaga, dressed in security shirts...and no pants! Then I notice Vince only has a...JESUS CHRIST!
Vince raises his thumbs up, and The Boogeyman and Booker T come out of nowhere, picking me back up to my feet, positioning me on my knees and right besides the boss’ ass. And THAT is when all the sudden-
~~~~~~
“NICK, WAKE THE HELL UP!”
D’OH! My head is throbbing with pain, as I just slam the back of it against the wooden surface behind it. What the hell is going on...and it is then when I see my mentor’s look of concern. Concern combined with the “WTF” look. That’s when all the sudden, I realize I’m in my bedroom, in my bed...and not with Vincent Kennedy McMahon staring down at me like a raging alcoholic.
“Jesus...I think I may have had the weirdest nightmare...”
“You were rolling around that bed like crazy, fool, I could hear you from downstairs! It couldn’t have been that horrible.”
“Big Daddy V, Snitsky, Striker, Thorn, Cor Von, and Umaga alongside Vince ‘I Can Walk on Water, Yet I Can’t Run a Wrestling Company’ McMahon were standing in front of me with no pants on...”
She looks at me for a second, then forces her eyes to close, a groan coming out of her. “Nicholas, I did not need that image...”
“And then...”
“I don’t want to hear the rest of it!”
“You’re right, you don’t. It scared the beejebus out of me, and passing it on would only make things worse.”
Alicia shrugged her shoulders, and turns her back towards me, a small cocky grin shining upon that British mug of hers. “Well, princess, I’ll give you some time to change. Come make me breakfast by the time you’re done doing so.”
I raise my right hand in the air and am about to give her what would be considered the bird...but I decide not to. “Fine, just go wait downstairs if you don’t want to starve.”
Chuckling, she begins walking out of the room. I bring both of my feet back onto the carpet floor and stand fully on them, only wearing my recently acquired Transformers boxers. I’m wondering how much Scott Andrews would pay for them if I decided to sell up-front...
“Life is good...” I say to myself, smiling brightly as I open a sliding white door that reveals a bunch of hangers with my t-shirts, pants, long sleeves, all that jazz. I quickly pick the Chris Jericho “Sexy Beast” t-shirt and put it on, following up by putting a pair of white athletic shorts on...after all, it’s summertime. I slip on my green Irish flip-flops and walk out of my bedroom, stretching both arms up in the air as part of my waking up routine. I come down the stairs and that’s when I’m surprised by a pair of hands slowly wrapping themselves around my eyes as I’m about to take my last step. I stop myself and stand there, as I hear a sweet voice whisper in my ear:
“Guess whoooooooooo?”
A smile comes across my lips, as I “ponder” this mystery for a second. “Ummmmmmm...I’m guessing it’s someone very sweet, someone who has needs...like myself, and someone...who may have enjoyed their stay in the House of Rawk too much. How are you, Renix dear?”
She takes her hands out of my eyes, and I turn around slowly to face her. Even without any make-up, she looks beautiful. Her blond hair is nicely combed and her smile Colgate-white...surprisingly reminding me I need to go brush my teeth after breakfast, which in my house simply means: ENORMOUS LUNCH!
I give her a light kiss on the cheek and bow my head in a gentleman-like manner, extending my arms to let her go down the stairs first. She whispers a simple “thank you” that brought shivers down my spine. As she makes her way down the hallway, I realize Alicia is waiting on me to start making food, so hastily, I rush down the stairs and go straight for the small, but rather humble kitchen. Alicia and Renix are already standing by the stove, waiting.
“So, Nick, what are you making us this time around?” asks Alicia curiously and without a hint of sarcasm. The food I make nowadays is just as good as my mother’s cooking was, so she’d never complain.
“Yeah, the spaghetti last night was delicious,” Renix adds, licking her lips at the mere thought of what I had whipped up last night. Probably not the right words to describe the tastiness of spaghetti there, but then again...I’m not a pervert.
“Aloo gobi sound all right to ya’ll?”
“That sounds lovely!”
“And then, you’re both gonna be forced on staying here all day with me watching footage on Jake Cheng.”
“...saw that one coming from a mile away...”
“Alicia, it’s not like you have anything better to do. You’re here for the weekend, remember?”
Alicia places her right index and thumb fingers against her chin, scratching it for a second as her brown eyes stare upon the ceiling for a second. I sigh...
“Actually, don’t answer that! Now, you two go watch some TV or something, gimme some time in the kitchen to bust out the food.”
“Can do,” Renix replies, grabbing Alicia’s left bicep and guiding her towards the living room, to which Alicia sighs as she lets herself get dragged toward the door. I turn back to the oven, and crack my knuckles. It’s time to go to work.
~~~~~~
“Delicious,” Alicia replies, leaning back on her chair and smacking her tummy a few times to demonstrate how filled up she is.
“Thank you Nicky-poo,” Renix says cutely, as she leans over from her chair and gives me another peck on the cheek. This gives me a reason to NOT tell her I hate that nickname.
“All in a day’s work...” I reply a bit shyly, my cheeks all red due to being kissed by a gorgeous woman. Alicia raises an eyebrow.
“You’re blushing as if you just lost your virginity, Nick. Or should I say...Nicky-poo!”
Renix starts to laugh, as I just put my right hand on my head and shake it, as if trying to contain myself from just choking Alicia the way Wayne Brady chokes a bitch. I swear, one of these days...and that’s when she lightly punches me in the arm, a goofy smile on her face.
“C’mon, Nick, I’m messing with you...so let’s just go watch the tapes. We have a LOT of work to do...”
“Right!” I reply back, regaining my focus on what’s ahead of me for the next few hours. We all stand at once, and after Alicia and I clean up the dishes and Renix takes care of setting up the DVD’s, notebooks and bottles of Blue Brain Wash, we’re all ready to go. Together, the three of us sit in the same brown leather couch, and I press the “Play” button on the DVD remote. It’s time...
~~~~~~
“Well, he’s going to be a toughie,” Alicia exclaims, surprised by the refreshed memory as we were looking back into one of Jake’s match with TNT. You know, the one when TNT pulverized Jake’s leg with a cinderblock. We wince at the accompanying sound, and poor Renix is forced to shut her eyes at the sight of it. I rewind the footage and play it back again, pausing it just as the weapon comes crashing down on Jake’s leg.
“No kidding. Surviving something like that automatically gives you iron man points.”
“Uh, shouldn’t we be watching the matches instead of poor Jake getting hurt?”
“...right you are, Renix.”
I press “Play” again, and we see the attack again. I had thought of Jake before as a simple, goofy wrestler in the early days...the kind that’d end up leaving the ring in pure pain. After witnessing some of the things he’s taken, I respect him but still feel he’s not fortified enough. After this...I’d never doubt Jake’s testicular fortitude ever again.
~~~~~~
I’ve been scribbling on the notebook furiously for the past few hours, going through finishing moves, career achievements, old vignette promos and things said in them, ring psychology. God knows, analyzing everything possible is what scouting is all about. Alicia’s voice comes through to my ears and that’s when I stop jolting down notes and look up at her to receive my fifth bottle of Blue Brain Wash of the day/night.
“Well, I’m definitely impressed. You’ve managed to keep your entire focus on one thing, for once...”
“You know as well as I do what’s in stake here, don’t you? Eternal glory and a chance to establish immortality yet again.”
Alicia takes a seat next to me on the couch, looking at me with a genuine amount of concern.
“Sure you’re alright? That doesn’t sound like an answer I’d hear from you often...”
I lay my head back, toss the notes onto the nearby table, and let out a sigh...sheesh; I might as well tell her what I had in mind as I was watching that footage.
“After watching all that Jake has done, I can’t help but to notice that he’s never had a definite style. Sure, his speed and pugilist abilities are what he’s best at, but he can do just about anything.”
“So? You’ve faced men who vary from technical gods to bruisers whose brute strength could kill a scrawny smark. What makes Jake so different?”
“In every match he’s competed, win or lose...Jake’s shown something that none of us can go up against. That no one has ever been able to match...”
I then point my right index finger against the center of Alicia’s body, and she understands what I mean with a small nod of her head. She then gives me a giant pat on the back.
“Well, sonny Jim...that just means that you’re going to have to be the first person to match it.”
I know what’s next here...and I agree, too. However, I’m still a bit unsure...and I decide to take a chance here...to see what my best friend’s advice would be in this.
“How? How do I match Jake’s heart...when my own is putrid and filled with sin?”
Alicia pauses from the negative strength of this statement, then comes out fighting. “So, you think Jake is some kind of angel all the sudden? Let me tell you something, while Cheng has a surreal streak a mile wide and happens to be an amazing athlete, don’t forget he holds grudges too. That he’d want revenge on any fool who’d try messing with one of his friends, or his brother. Don’t forget if he had his chance, he’d beat anyone’s hairy skull in and not give a damn about it.”
“Meaning...”
“Jake may have the biggest heart and will in the ACW. But you, my best friend...you have soul, some hard-won self knowledge, and the greatest amount of guts I’ve seen in a human being. All you need now is a little more confidence in yourself...”
I can’t help but to smile. It’s a really nice compliment, but I had thought about that as well, coming to the same conclusion. But, for some reason, I just felt like hearing a second opinion on it.
“Wow...Alicia, if you weren’t already married, I’d say you were trying to seduce me...”
My chuckles become laughter, as Alicia’s jaw drops, not believing herself. Before I know it, she’s shaking her head and trying to contain herself from laughing along with me.
“You rotten, sly, cunning bastard...” is all she manages to say, before she starts to laugh as well. Usually, she was the one who led me on and let me console her...only to find out she was playing along with me all the time. This time, I felt I’d give her a taste of her own medicine...and I got her good.
We have a good laugh for another minute, then Alicia finally begins taking in deep breaths to calm down. That’s when I notice something strange...there’s no Renix to be seen.
“Hey, did Renix leave?”
“She had to catch a flight back to Gresham, so she left while you were halfway through that fifth match.”
“She could have told me...I wouldn’t have minded.”
“She knows how important this is for you. That’s why she said nothing when she left...”
I close my eyes briefly, allowing myself a bit of time for brief thinking. Deep inside me, I thanked her for giving me some space, so I could refocus my priorities...I would have to thank her personally soon.
“Sooooooooo...feel like going to get some Tokyo Joe’s for dinner?”
She looks at me as if I’ve just asked the world’s stupidest question
“...what...in the hell...are we still doing here? C’mon bitch, you drive – I know you get stressed out by my mad skillz behind the wheel.”
“Takes a bitch to know a bitch, bitch!” I shoot back, my humor coming back to me slowly as we stand up from the couch and make our way off the living room and towards the garage. I grab the keys to my green Saleen S7 and open the door to get into the garage.
“Touché...” replies Alicia as we jump into the front seats of the open car. We exchange one final look at each other as the door opens, before I begin backing out of the garage...putting all thoughts on Jake aside, and sealing them with two words.
“Sheer will...”
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Post by BK London on Aug 20, 2007 16:32:59 GMT -5
Segment: I Got This Feeling, That Somebody’s Watching Me…(Credit: Wyvern)
”Holy Hell, what’s going on?!”
Many moments have passed since Wyvern stumbled upon the charred remains of the old ACW World Title. Its burn marks nearly covers all the metal with a opaque carbon tarnish, but the nameplate and a hint of the logo gives way for Wyvern’s realization. Wyvern brushes the top of the belt, and quickly pulls away.
”OH MY GOD, IT’S BURNING!”
Wyvern throws down the title in a hurry, and at this point, he’s freaking out, as the title begins to smolder. Wyvern tries to move past the noxious vapors from the somehow burning belt, but the heat forms a very strong wall, trapping Wyvern in the corner.
”Ummm…what the fuck is going on here?!”
The belt continues to smoke and fizzle, as a large cloud gathers in the air. Wyvern looks up, as the plume of smoke from the somehow inferno-like blaze takes a anthropomorphic stance.
”It’s due time, Wyvern…”
”WHAT?! Who are you?! Show yourself!”
The plume of smoke starts to take shape a little bit more, revealing none other than…
Wyvern.
”What?! Impossible….this doesn’t make any sense AT ALL.”
”Your transgressions have made this all entirely possible. For you see, I’m you…four months ago in the past.”
The smoke cloud shifts, to a hazy imagery of Wyvern celebrating with Senator as the Senator is holding the ACW World Title after upsetting Chance Emmerson.
”You see…this was the turning point for you. You had a choice earlier that month, to honorably shoot for the title or hand it off. You chose the latter, and should’ve stood by your word.”
”Wh-why? At the status quo back then, I wouldn’t have been able to challenge for that title for an eternity!”
”But you would’ve been ready for it, and would’ve retained your honor. Instead, you’ve forsaken your entire legacy.”
The smoke changes again to an image of Wyvern being booed by the crowd at Omega Effect III, following his legit victory.
”And what do you say I do?”
”Whatever you feel. However, the ultimate fate has been sealed, regardless of the choices you’ve made.
”What do you—“
Before Wyvern can finish his thoughts/words, the plume vanishes. Wyvern stands up, and looks at the ground, where only one title belt rests on the ground…his current one. No char marks surround the location.
Wyvern: This is VERY WEIRD.
End segment.
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