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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 15:59:43 GMT -5
The door closes tight and in walks Steve, feeling rather exhausted from his duties tonight. He takes a seat, in this case a rather comfortable looking sofa with plump cushions, and rests his head back on the spongy backrest.
The ACW staff lounge; the favorite area for the staff members under the employment of Alpha Championship Wrestling. Normally it is only occupied by the referee’s who are not currently on duty and the interviewers who haven’t been scheduled to grant any egomaniac the interview time that they have demanded. But occasionally, as exhibited in this case, the other various blue-collar staff members, the hard grafters who work on various aspects of the running of ACW, such as engineers, technicians, make-up artists etc…
Steve rises up from his seat, agitated by something he just sat on. He removes an item from his back pocket and places it on the wooden table that rests in front of him, usually used to accommodate the tired feet of the over-worked, under-paid cart-horses of the ACW.
The object rattles as it lands on the table due to it’s curved shape. It is an expensive looking cell phone.
”Not another one of those new fangly technology phones, Steve?”
Steve turns his head to the right and notices he is being joined on the sofa by none other than Raymond Allen Fleming. His thick English accent is easilly distinguishable. He’s obviously taking a moment to relax before taking charge of the main event later in the night. As RAF takes a seat the sofa creaks slightly under his weight. He places a tall glass of clear liquid, presumably water, next to the phone which clearly alerts Steve, who jerks forward to retrieve his phone.
”Woah, watch you don’t spill that on it…this damn phone cost me a fortune!”
Fleming offers him a pitying glance.
”I don’t know what’s wrong with just using a normal house-phone. And that texting rubbish…why don’t you just write a bloody letter?”
Steve rolls his eyes whilst mouthing RAF’s criticism sardonically. He holds his new material possession high up for him to see with a certain pride in his eyes.
”But Ray, this phone is awesome. It’s got a 540 by 480 pixel camera that can take pictures AND video…it can play mpeg’s, mp3’s and wmv’s, vibration function…one thousand phonebook entries…sixty five thousand colours…it’s got…”
The confounded look worn by RAF acts as a buffer that stops Steve in his verbal tracks. Steve furrows his brow, quite insulted that Ray isn’t paying more interest to his new toy.
”What’s wrong with you?”
Fleming inhales before, quite pedantically remarking…
”Does anyone ever call you on it…”
Steve pauses to think for a moment, trying to actually recall if anyone has rung his number yet. He can’t think of anyone but he doesn’t want to look like a fool, or more of one anyway, and so blurts…
”Yes, yes, of course…people call me all the time. I’m never off this phone.”
RAF raises his eyebrows at him. Unfortunately for him, by some sheer chance or coincidence, Steve’s phone chirps a melodic tune, demanding to be answered. Needless to say, Steve is smug as he prepares to answer the call.
”There, you see…someone’s calling me right now…I wonder who it is this time…Hello?”
He pauses for a while as a voice unfamiliar to him speaks. Confusion steadily manipulates his expression as his eyebrows furrow, his forehead wrinkles, his mouth widens and his eyes display perplexity. Every time he attempts to speak he is seemingly cut off by the person on the other end.
However, quite soon his expression is manipulated and determined by another feeling. His eyes widen this time and his lips squeeze tightly together. He swallows hard as the secretive one-way conversation continues. The hand that contains the phone begins to quiver uncontrollably.
Finally, it seems Steve is offered the opportunity to speak.
”But what do…Hello?...Hello?”
Unfortunately, he is cut off as the other person hangs up. He lowers his phone and stares at it, his face aghast.
”was that you missus? She left you for the postman yet?”
Steve has clearly been knocked off course. He begins to sweat and breathe heavilly. There is even a hint of him fighting back tears.
”Why does this always happen to me? What did I do…? Oh my god.”
Raymond’s tone becomes more concerned though he is also partly curious to this ghostly phone call.
”You alright son?”
Steve lurches forward and snatches RAF’s drink from the table and gulps it down in one go, much to the annoyance of the veteran referee. Suddenly, he’s not so concerned.
”Oi you little tithead, I was drinking that!”
Steve ignores his insults…he has bigger problems that a disgruntled referee to deal with. He rises to his feet and wipes his mouth with his sleeve, mopping up any water that dribbles from it. He glares at the phone once more before psyching himself up to leave.
He slowly approaches the door, hesitant to meet his fate but when he reaches it there is nowhere else to go. He reaches out for the handle and pulls the door toward him before exiting the room.
--
The drab grey walls provide the surroundings of the current scene. A single, naked lightbulb hangs by a thin wire from the cracked, decrepit ceiling that lingers above. The bulb does little to illuminate the room, the tungsten filament glows only dimly, casting an unnerving darkness that seems to accomdate these particular segments perfectly.
The room, as it does more frequently, has only one occupant at this moment. Even in such a large room his presence is domineering; even while hunching over, his elbows digging into his knees, his burly physique seems to outnumber the pockets of emptiness that surround him.
His face hides behind a sort of cage formed by his hands and fingers, the tips of which slowly carress his face, particularly his soft yet maliciously sharp eyebrows that contribute greatly to his menacing stare.
Slowly his hands descend, sliding down his face over his eyelids being brushed by his eyelashes before they reach the cold hard material that forms his mask. His fingers close together and his palms slide eloquently on the smooth surface. A rare look of concern is apparent in his eyes as he recalls the incident that occurred on Monday when his great foe, Victor Laureano, threatened to remove his mask, attempting to pry it from his face with the aid of a cold, sturdy crowbar. Torak is relieved that Latino turned out to be unsuccessful but now, he realizes, there is a shift of balance in their feud; A shift that greatly benefits his adversary.
For the first time, Torak finds himself experiencing slight dread toward the prospect of being in the same vicinity of Latino again, being unsure of what will occur the next time they meet. He knows that Latino can rely on this ploy of exposure to unsettle him at their next encounter. He isn’t exactly relishing the possibility of being on the end of a crowbar assault either.
He imagines being on the end of such an attack, a wild swing whirring as it cuts through the air towards it’s target. The throbbing pain that would course through his body. The frightening sight as it reels back away from him, preparing for another strike. The bone-crunching sound it will produce upon impact…
Thud! Thud!
The sound startles Torak as he reacts with a flinch. He directs his focus to the steel door; clothed in rust but nevertheless a sturdy obstruction to portect the privacy of Torak, and the well-being of the individuals on the other side of the door.
However, at this time it is Torak who is concerned for his personal safety. He wonders what lingers beyond the thick steel. Is it it’s cousin, the steel crowbar, seeking to damage Torak physically or mentally? If so; is it his enemy, Latino, brandishing the implement, hoping to successfully pry the mask from his face this time?
He rises to his feet, clenching his fists in prepartion for the unknown. He cautiously shuffles toward the door, aware that the door could fly open at any second in an attempt to catch him by surprise. He decides to counter-attack that idea by lunging forward to seize the door handle and yanking the door open, inviting a rush of air into the room along with the sight of what awaits him.
”Oh my god!”
Steve’s heart skips a few beats as the door swings open and a very disgruntled looking Torak almost appears out of nowhere in the doorway. He notices he is pumped up and seemingly ready to pounce on an unsuspecting victim, no doubt tearing them to pieces. However, Torak exhales and relaxes once realizes that it is Steve. He finds the sight of him cowering up against the wall quite humorous as he always takes great pleasure in other people’s torment.
Steve eventually pushes himself away from the wall by wisely keeps his distance as he can feel Torak’s impatience growing. He hopes to keep this as brief as possible.
”I…er…I got a phone call for you.”
Steve holds up his phone as if trying to translate his words into actions. Torak, meanwhile, offers him a curious look as Steve then begins to press some buttons on his phone.
”I just have to…just have to redial the number for you…”
Steve extends his arm, with the phone in hand, towards Torak and offers a nervous smile. Torak sharply snatches the phone from his grip and stares, dumbfounded by the gadget. It looks miniature in the palm of his hand and you just know that Torak could destroy this thing just by pressing it between to fingers. It’s something that Torak knows too and it is something that he actively contemplates. However, his curiosity gets the better of him and he cautiously lifts the phone to his ear. It’s probably safe to say it’s going to be a one way conversation.
He reacts to the voice that only he hears…it is somehow familiar to him but he can’t quite place where he has heard it before. He listens intently and can do without the distraction of a simpering coward quivering in his sight and promptly grips the edge of the steel door and slams it shut, the force alone almost knocks Steve over despite standing at least 8 feet from the door.
As one door closes…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:00:24 GMT -5
The wooden door slides open, brushing eloqeuntly across the plush, expensive carpet that spreads across the floor inside the room. A pair of jelly-like legs strut out over the threshold. The chairman emerges into the corridor with his face sporting a very unhealthy pale color. Drops of sweat cling to his forehead and trails of moisture from sweat that had long departed remain on his face. He pulls the door closed behind him before pressing up against it, exhaling deeply. He seems glad to be out of the room that lies behind the door. His right hand, which quivers uncontrollably, rises up to his neck in order to loosen his shirt in an attempt to breath easier.
He quickly stands up straight, trying to compose himself as an unknown individual approaches. However, he is visibly shaken which is easily discernible by the passing stranger; a female staff member who displays common feminine concern.
”Are you okay, Sir?”
The chairman stumbles over his thoughts as she awaits his response.
”….uh…what?...er…Yes, Yeah, I’m okay…”
She isn’t convinced and she leans in, placing a comforting hand on his elbow as he looks unsteady.
”Are you sure…you look a bit pale…would you like a drink of water?”
He seems a little edgy as he flinches as soon as her hand rests on his arm. He motions for her to back away.
”No, I’m fine…really…I just need…I just need some fresh air. I’m going outside for a bit…”
She backs away obediently as the Chairman starts to make his way down the corridor, stumbling on his first step.
Once he is firmly out of sight, the wooden door begins to slide open again, indicating that the chairman was not alone in the room.
--
Steve slumps up against the hard brick wall, his eyes closed as he drifts off into a snooze. He has almost lost track of time as his hard makeshift pillow manages to restrain dreams from conquering his consciousness. He has spent the last few minutes or so wondering whether he will see his brand new phone again.
His ears prick up as he hears noise from inside the room that is occupied by the man who currently has custody of his gadget. He reverts to full alert and stands rigidly straight, bracing himself for the re-emergence of Torak. He inhales, hoping the intake of oxygen will give him strength for his inevitable and imminent encounter.
The door swings open and the gust of air causes Steve’s fringe to wave forward. It quickly retreats though as Torak surges out of the room giving Steve no time to react. He barges into him at full pelt, sending him careering into the wall that he recently rested upon with great force. Torak, meanwhile, charges with intent down the corridor away from the scene.
Steve bounces off the wall and stumbles dazedly in the corridor outside the doorway of Torak’s room. You realize that he must have hit his head quite hard on the wall upon impact as he makes a particularly unwise enquiry;
”Hey! Where’s my phone!?”
He gazes into the distance in the direction that Torak set off in for a brief second before his eyes suddenly widen and a look of shock and panic mould his expression. Almost as if an imaginary trap-door had opened beneath him, he descends quickly to the floor, narrowly avoiding a small object that hurtles toward his direction. It flies overhead as he takes cover and lands a few feet away from him with a heart shattering smash. He looks over towards it’s landing place and clumsily scurries across the floor towards the mangled wreckage of his now worthless gadget. He scoops it up in his hand before rushing off down the corridor, desperately needing to get out of there. Perhaps he could do with some fresh air.
And so the story begins…
Fade out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:01:28 GMT -5
Match 6: OnlyRedsFan vs. Senator (Credit: Senator)
“Fast” Eddie Edison: Welcome back to Meltdown, brought to you by Macho POWER! Energy Drink, OoOoh Yeah, get energy to keep going all day and night! And by Mean Gene’s Burgers, the burgers that say “bite me!” Now, Max here might disagree, but we have a clear case again of an old fogey facing off against one of the young up and comers around here!
Maxwell McNally: Eddie, I really am not sure if you’re just trying to get back at me for losing that silly bet a few weeks back, or if you really do harbor prejudices against our distinguished and more experienced competitors…
Edison: Come on, you know that it’d just be easier to say our OLDER competitors.
McNally: No, I wanted to make a point, all of our wrestlers are talented, and that’s no difference here, if I can get back on point. The Only Reds Fan finally broke his lengthy losing streak with one heck of a win, taking the Entertainment title off Rawt Ross. He may have a lopsided win/loss record, but the fact that he’s still here, and has a title speaks more about his character than anything else. Rumors are that Red’s been stepping up his game since his big win, and is trying to finally break into the upper echelon. Now, having said that, Senator Steve Phillips is really trying to seal his legacy here in ACW in the time he has left before he retires at Omega Effect.
Edison: At least he knows when to quit…
McNally: Well, he certainly will be going out on top, with wins over the likes of RDK and BK London, and taking our illustrious champion to a draw. Anyway, that’s Red’s theme playing, and Phillip has something to say…
Phillip: Announcing first, the ACW Entertainment Champion, weighing in at two hundred pounds, Mr. Red!
Red walks down to the ring, sliding in under the ropes, and stretches on the ropes, waiting for his opponent.
Edison: And here, we will see the new generation once again prevail!
Soon, Hail to the Chief plays, with the familiar red, white, and blue tickertape shooting from the entranceway. Senator Steve Phillips walks out, shooting a victory pose to cheers from the crowd.
Phillip: And his opponent, from Washington D.C., he is the founder of the Senatorial Stable… Senator Steve Phillips!
Phillips makes his way to the ring, wearing his silver boxing shorts. As he enters the ring, he offers a handshake to Red. Red considers it for a moment, and with some deliberation, accepts to some scattered applause. The Senator nods his head, and the two begin to face off. Red, hungry to replicate the success of his previous win, immediately closes in, catching Phillips in an overhead armbar, which is quickly countered into a wristlock. Red pulls out of the hold, runs off the ropes, only to be caught with a drop toe hold, the Senator quickly rolling over his opponent to apply a grounded facelock. Red manages to stand up, pulling back into the ropes, and shoving Phillips off with momentum. As the Senator comes back from the opposite ropes, Red rolls back, catching him into a perfect Boston Crab hold.
Edison: See, Red has enough experience to know what’s going on, and he’s also…
McNally: Enough with the ageism, or I’ll let you call the match by yourself!
Edison: Aww, I was just messing with you. I’m sorry…but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to see Red win! McNally: Apology accepted, but unlike you, I just want to see the best man win this contest!
Back to the action, Red keeps his crab hold locked in, the Senator struggling to get out of the simple, but effective submission. Red manages to keep control of the move for a decent amount of time, before the Senator is able to unbalance him, forcing a break. Red closes back in, but the Senator sweeps his legs out from under him with an arm swipe to the back of the knees, covering for a quick pin…
...1
...Red quickly recovers, rolling back to his feet. The Senator charges in, going for a Washington Lariat, but whiffs, Red countering with a quick scoop slam. Red then dashes off the ropes, and on the return, blasts Phillips in the head with a baseball slide to the side of the head. Red, though, does not cover for a pin, but slowly hoists the Senator up, taking him to the near turnbuckle, hanging him in a tree of woe, dashing back to the opposite corner, making a baseball bat swinging motion, looking in the air, and charging back in...
Edison: He's heading for home!
Red crashes into the upside down Phillips with a huge baseball slide, knocking his head against the bottom turnbuckle pad. The Senator collapses off the corner, and Red covers for the pin...
...1
...2
...Phillips kicks out! Red seems frustrated, lifting the Senator up, and going for a rear naked choke, but the wily ring veterern manages to counter into a back switch, hitting a low angle German suplex, high angle backdrop, and the full nelson facebuster, the Liberalizer, completing the Senatorial Series, and covering for a pin…
…1
…2
…Red kicks out! A frustrated Senator lifts Red back up, going for the Filibuster…but Red elbows his way out, and drops the Senator down to the mat with a back brain dropkick. Red quickly moves over, lifting Phillips into position for a powerbomb.
McNally: Red’s going for the Death Wish, his Spiral Bomb variation!
Red tries to lift the Senator up, but he’s not going up, and instead, Red finds himself losing his footing. Phillips heaves his opponent over his shoulder, cradling Red’s neck behind his back, and jumps up, turning in mid air, hitting his Polarizer. Red gets up, stunned, and Phillips dashes off the near ropes, on the rebound, connecting with a sharp Partisan Kick to the temple, and covering for the pin…
...1
...2
...3!
Phillip: Your winner, Senator Steve Phillips!
The Senator walks over to his fallen opponent, and lifts him up to his feet.
The Senator: Well done. I must say, you are quite the competitor, and I am pleased to have faced you, Red.
Red: Yeah…but I still…lost.
Senator: You know, I see that you have been improving, but I think you can do more. I think you need a new finisher, really, and I actually got a perfect idea for you, tell you what, call me up next week sometime when I am around here, and I shall show you.
Red: Sure, ok.
The two wrestlers walk on out of the ring, with Phillips mainly blabbing on, and Red respectfully listening, and holding the side of his head, perhaps from the Partisan Kick earlier on, and probably, also from the endless speaking from his previous opponent.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:03:07 GMT -5
Segment: Farewell (Credit: Hitman)
Fans stay seated for the time being as “God of Thunder” hits the stereo. The fans now come out of their seats with cheering as Hitman steps out onto the ramp with his arms raised to the fans. He makes it to the ring then steps over the top rope and into the ring. He half-smiles before he grabs the mic. Hitman now grins.
“THANK YOU!”
The crowd cheers as Hitman continues saying what he has to say.
“I just wanted to tell you all how proud I am to be in ACW. The feeling has been awesome from the very beginning. I never want to stop wrestling.”
The smile that is on Hitman’s face slowly begins to fade away.
“But there comes a time when the thing you love can take its toll on you. I’m 28. I’m still young while I have it. But I have gigantism. It’s taking its toll on my body just like it did Andre the Giant. I may not live to see my 50th birthday and worrying about it is not how I want to continue living.”
Fans are beginning to catch on. Only a small few protest while the rest completely understand the situation.
“Therefore, I am taking my time to say goodbye to you all. After tonight, I will be retiring from the world of professional wrestling but I am not gone completely. My new job will be helping out with the ring crew and using these bad boys to help.”
Hitman flexes his enormous biceps which sends the fans cheering once more.
“And who knows? Maybe if I feel like I’m up for one more challenge, then I’ll have to find someone and make him feel… THE WRATH…”
The fans finish his catchphrase with “OF THE GODS!” and Hitman drops the mic. “God of Thunder” hits and Hitman steps over the top rope and begins making his way into the crowd. They accept him with welcoming arms and Hitman acknowledges them with high-fives. He makes his way through the crowd and slowly but surely out of the arena, bringing the book on ACW’s largest superstar in history to a close.
End segment.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:04:08 GMT -5
Segment: The Truth Behind Middle-Eastern Insanity (Credit: FSX)
Now a time has come where the other of the kings take control of the situation, and the world immediately realizes why he wasn't given control to begin with...
A quest that never should have been still takes place, and there appears no end in sight for our brave Asian adventurer. After losing the man who had guided him to this strange land, Fallen had no idea how to find him when there was no left clues. All he was aware of was that there was a village of some bizarre name in the distance, and it would be the perfect place to ask if anyone had seen him...well....to ask anyone who spoke English if they had seen him...well...to fire randomly while yelling "WHERE'S THE JEW?!? WHERE'S THE JEW?!?" Yep. That seemed like the only acceptable way to get information. But before he had any more time to think of the subject, he finally caught sight of a small run-down village in the distance, and made every effort to run toward it without second thought.
FSX: FINALLY! GENERAL CIVILIZATION! PEOPLE WHO CAN TRULY UNDERSTAND MY SITUATION! HURRAH FOR HUMANITY!
And with that, a shot was fired that narrowly flew past my head. It made me realize that this whole situation brought on an entirely different point of view from me. I took in a deep breath and it felt as if everything was in slow motion as I felt a few more bullets narrowly miss having a meet and greet with my skull. Seconds later, I found myself in an old dirty trench, one which probably hadn't been inhabited since Desert Shield, but I regress. It took me a few moments to check myself for any bullet wounds, but it appeared to be just my paranoia. If there was one thing I should have learned from the constant World War II games that were released was the one thing that always remained constant throughout them: the intelligence of the enemy was slim to nil. A smirk caught my face as I reached back and grabbed my rifle. You know, it's strange in a way. Many men have fought in wars, but I've killed dozens in a single day. You'd think I would be more screwed up by now.
Anyway, I was fully prepared to come out shooting in an incredibly bad ass manner, before I peered out of the trench and saw dozens of terrorists, hungry for my blood. I probably would have been caught in a cold sweat at this point, if I'd taken the time to think ahead...but I didn't. I began shooting at random into the crowd, and doing a terrific job, probably because they kept walking into my bullets while attempting to dodge. Before I knew what was happening, I saw that only one of them remained. He looked very familiar, in an odd way, but was very old, so it wasn't possibly anyone I knew. I don't spend much time with the elderly. Fortunately for me, he appeared to only be wielding a knife. Nothing I couldn't handle.
Feeling cocky, I couldn't stop myself from standing up and walking toward the man, pointing my rifle at him. He didn't show any fear though, which was startling at first, before he came at me with a sloppy suicide rush! He must have not thought I had any ammo left, but I did...and I shot him in the head just before he came within 3 feet of me. 'I couldn't have been more bad ass,' I thought...which is why I had no trouble becoming myself again, and seeing things as I once had before.
FSX: You know, that was really easy. This whole quest to find Hunter shouldn't be all that difficult if everyone is like them.
Fallen continued on his way into the village, looking around for anything suspicious, before making his way into what appeared to be a bar. Just as he entered, there was a loud voice that cried out to the heavens heard from where the massacre had just taken place.
??: Snake? SNAAAAAAAAAKKEEEEEEEEE!!!
He stalled at the vintage comment, before shaking his head and looking around the bar for anyone that might know about where Hunter was. Or where Osama was. Or where he himself was. Scanning the bar for anyone who he believed could speak English, but all he really saw was drunk terrorists, and the worst display of Karaoke...EVER.
Terrorist #1: Is this the real life...heh...crazy infidels...
Terrorist #2: Is this just fantasy...this song isn't so great...
Terrorist #3: Caught in a landslide...such horrible music...
Terrorist #4: With no escape from reality...hey, I kinda like it!
Fallen shuddered listening to the music, but became more relaxed when he saw Terrorists one through three pull out their rifles and proceed to overkill Terrorist #4. He laughed to himself for a moment, before sighing and sitting at the bar.
FSX: Crazy commies trying to impersonate RDK. Can anyone speak terrorist for me and get me a beer?
??: You mean to say impersonate Queen...and I'd be happy to purchase your beverage.
FSX: Correcting me? Who do you think you...?
To the shock of the world, the one man you would never expect to find in a run down bar in IRAQ of all places, was in a run down bar in IRAQ of all places:
NELSON MANDELA
He sat on the stool next to Fallen's, and he appeared to be already tipsy as it is!
FSX: Dave Chapelle?
Mandela: What? No, I'm not Dave Chapelle. How can you not know who I am? I was probably in prison longer then you were alive.
FSX: Oh. So you're some kind of serial killer?
Mandela sighed to himself, before shaking his head and handing Fallen a beer in good faith.
FSX: Free beer? OH GOD! IT'S NELSON MANDELA!
Fallen nearly doubled over at the realization, before calming himself down and downing the beer, taking another.
FSX: What brings you to Terrorist Town?
Mandela: Boredom mostly...and yourself young man?
FSX: Ah, I'm here on a special mission assigned by the IMF...you know, from Mission: Impossible! Me and my friend are here to assassinate Osama bin Laden, but my friend was kidnapped by terrorists! So now I'm trying to pick up clues of where he might be. By the way, ever watch something called Alpha Championship Wrestling?
Mandela: ...you're...wrestlers?
FSX: Yup!
Mandela appears not to know what to make with the situation presented, as Fallen downs yet another beer.
Mandela: You were drinking before you came here, weren't you?
FSX: Naaaoooohh! Sheen him?
Fallen begins to swift and spin his head around slowly, for what seems to be no real reason, as even Nelson Mandela appears amused by the drunken antics of a lightweight Asian.
Mandela: I see...well, I'm going to assume you're talking about the lad that I saw some men take out back. He wasn't conscious, and he was a bigamist white person...that'd be him?
FSX: Shyyyaa! The Jeww! The Jeww!
Mandela: Right...well...I believe they took him into some sort of shelter they have set up back there, you should be able to find it.
FSX: Shankya mister Mandela...you're my hero! I vote you to be the new Jesus! Hurrah!
He gets up, stumbling a bit, and leans in to give the former president a vomit-inducing hug. The scene itself literally cuts away to when Fallen had already left the bar, as loud obscene curses are heard yelled by Mandela.
Voice of Mandela: My new shoes!
Fallen managed to pull himself back up to his feet after being forcibly removed from the bar, but could you really blame the terrorists? He vomited on a revolutionary person of African development! But alas, you can always blame the terrorists. Regardless, Fallen continued on his way, stumbling more with each step as he went to the designated area behind the bar. After all, what were the chances Nelson Mandela of all people would lie to him? Not likely. Which is why it should have came to no one's surprise as an entrance to a shelter-like base was there! Unfortunately, Fallen was too far gone to see just the base...he also saw other things. HORRIBLE THINGS! But thanks to ACW's incredibly advanced technology, we now all have the ability to see the things that he saw that fateful day, before attempting to rescue his partner and friend...
In a dark corner, one that would not otherwise exist if not seen through the eyes of a drunk or a stoner, there was a small, crippled figure seen clutching something dear to him. Who could this true beast be? Why, who else but Dick Cheney?
FSX: ...the hell? You're here to kill Osama too?
In this alternate reality of a drunken haze, apparently Fallen could articulate again. Thank God this doesn't have to be done slurred. Anyway, Cheney stared over at FSX startled at first, before turning to him and dumping oil on himself.
Cheney: It's mine...ALL MINE! My precious...my preeeciouuss...
FSX: ...what the...?
Before Fallen could say another word, Cheney pulled out a lighter and showed a sickening grin throughout his crude appearance.
Cheney: I'll die before you take my precious! I won't let you! Me and my precious are going TOGETHER!
FSX: What are you talking about?!?! Don't do it!
Sadly (to some), before Fallen was able to stop him, he had already lit himself on fire. Luckily to a drunk, this only looked as if Cheney was melting and smiling, much like the Marshmallow from the original Ghostbusters. Fallen wept for a moment, not sure why he cared more about Dick Cheney then a terrorist, before he felt someone patting him on the back.
??: Not to worry, everything is going to be alright.
FSX: (sniffling) H-Hunter?
Fallen turned, showing a bright smile, before seeing that it was someone worse then anything imaginable. Almost worse than Tom Cruise. Keanu Reeves stood there staring at him. There wasn't a sign of emotion on his face as the empty look remained on his face...it was as if...
Keanu: (expressionless) Don't worry...anyone would find that act gruesome as well...so inhuman...so defiant of God's plan. All who see this would shed a tear, or contemplate suicide themselves...that is, those who are human.
FSX: What, you're some kind of machine?!?
Keanu: Yes.
FSX: ...oh...
There was a long pause...
FSX: So...is this some kind of cameo hour or something? Do all the celebrities hang out in Iraq now?
Keanu: Guess so.
FSX: ...God I hate you.
This situation could have gone on forever, and maybe it might have...if Fallen hadn't passed out on the entrance of the underground base. Luckily for him, Hunter couldn't possibly have expected to be saved so fast, so there would be time to sober up. But would they all survive? Will Osama be killed? Does everyone suddenly realize why I wasn't writing the base of these segments? Find out that and more in the shocking conclusion!
End.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:05:09 GMT -5
Segment: Introduction (Credit: Rose)
It’s beautiful over there...—Last words of Thomas Edison[/i][/color]
Today’s scene opens in the backstage area of the ACW Arena. Thus far, the night has been filled with everything that one would normally see on a standard episode of Meltdown, and even a few surprises…
One such “surprise” is the fact that they are now being directly addressed by that mysterious duo that has plagued ACW for a week now. The One-Eyed Man, brandishing his sledge hammer, stares into the camera with an angry scowl. His left eye stares into the camera with a unique kind of intensity. At his side, is the Asian woman that has so easily made her presence felt since the couple first appeared on ACW television.
Woman: This is the first real opportunity we’ve had to address the wonderful ACW fans. I know I speak for the both of us when I say that you—
The woman, as per usual, adopts a very sarcastic tone and just as she’s about to show her true feelings about the ACW fans, she stops herself.
Woman: Now that I think about it… We’ve never even introduced ourselves, have we? My name is Umeko Saito, and I have managed the very best talent in Japan for almost 10 years now. Over the years, I’ve managed well over a dozen different competitors and helped create multiple international superstars. Yet I’ve never managed a man who can hold a candle to the man you see just beside me.
The camera focuses in on The One-Eyed Man. He is truly a magnificent physical specimen. He is just as large as his father, “Outlaw” Jack Conner, and looks to be considerably more built. He has on a dark red pair of pant tights and a pair of matching boots. He does not wear a shirt of any kind, only his numerous painful looking scars.
Umeko: For the past two years, he has been undefeated. He has used his size and power to utterly dominate every opponent that he has ever faced. He has earned innumerable scars in well over a hundred Deathmatches. He has no equal. He is—
Just as she’s about to finish, she is interrupted by her protégé.
One-Eyed Man: I am man who will crush anybody that gets in his way.
As his face contorts into a deadly serious look, Umeko takes the opportunity to continue.
Umeko: And whether by fate or misfortune, quite a few people have gotten in his way so far…
She turns questioningly towards her partner.
Umeko: What were their names again, my Tiger?
She runs her nails a little ways across his chest as they both share an eerie smile.
One-Eyed Man: They’re insignificant…
She applies just a little more pressure, and this causes his eerie smile to widen.
One-Eyed Man: Oh, I see… Well, there’s Hunter.
Umeko: Isn’t he the one with a whore for a girlfriend?
Her smile has an air of mischief around it, and she probably knows where her question’s leading.
One-Eyed Man: It’s more appropriate to say that he was the one with a whore for a girlfriend. Torak also got in our way at about the same time.
Umeko: It’s a shame that he’s not even an interesting head case.
One-Eyed Man: Just Monday, Scott Andrews and Tornado had the misfortune of getting in our way.
Umeko: Scott Andrews is the never-was…and…I don’t even remember Tornado.
One-Eyed Man: Exactly.
After their little interlude, Umeko finally turns her attention back to the viewing audience.
Umeko: We did our special calculations during the Monday show, like we always do and to make a long story short, tonight’s four-way was the lucky winner. It’s very ironic that the match happens to be a four-way… For those of you keeping score at home, that’s exactly what I rolled…a four. So, it appears that Hunter and Tornado may be the two most unlucky men in this entire federation, as this will be the second time they’ve had the audacity to get in our way. We’ll also be meeting ACW’s legendary World Champion, Ms. Kitsune for the very first time…. Speaking of which… I hate to spoil the surprise, but we’ll very probably be meeting Mr. Kitsune this coming Monday…
One would think that the duo would share a laugh after that crippling quip, but they remain very stone-faced. Just as Umeko is about to continue, the One-Eye Man is quick to cut her off.
One-Eyed Man: We can’t forget about Rattlesnake. I’m tempted very tempted to shake his hand. Monday he did the one of the things that I’ve dreamed of doing for years…
Umeko: Oh please! You’ve dreamed about doing far worse than simply defeating him in a match…
One-eyed Man: Hmph…you’re right, of course. Father, I know you’re not in the building tonight, but I know that you’re watching. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. When you’re ready to be punished for your crimes… I’ll be waiting. The blood of everybody who gets hurt because of your cowardice is on your hands.
Umeko: If I were you, Mr. Conner, I’d take that to heart… Well, I hate to rush, but we really need to get ready for the main-event… Let’s go.
Umeko and the One-Eyed Man walk off screen and the scene slowly fades to black.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:06:01 GMT -5
Segment: Retro Segment #23 (Credit: Yoko / Sarin)
November 3rd, 2005 Okinawa, Japan Naka’s Pets Are Your
Yuki’s directions have led Yoko and Sarin to this pet store not far from their house. They’ve already donned their Gatogal and Frost disguises.
Sarin: Naka’s Pets Are Your?
Yoko: Mr. Naka didn’t know good English when he started his business, and now he doesn’t change it because of name recognition.
Sarin: Makes sense. Shall we go in?
Yoko: Yes.
A gust of wind blows by them, and Yoko freezes in her tracks.
Sarin: What’s wrong?
Yoko: …Panties.
Sarin puts her hand to her head and sighs.
Sarin: I can’t believe you forgot to grab a pair of panties before we went out.
Yoko: What should I do?
Sarin: Come on, let’s just go in. I’ll try to handle the fighting. If worst comes to worst, it doesn’t matter if you give some people a peep show. No one knows who Gatogal is.
Yoko: What if it’s caught on camera! I don’t want my vagina all over the news!
Sarin: It wouldn’t be on the news, it’d be on the internet.
Yoko: You’re not helping!
Sarin: Come on, let’s just go in and do this. Anyone who’d knock over a pet store can’t be a threat.
Sarin heads in with Yoko following close behind, holding her skirt down.
A bunch of foxes are scampering around the store.
??: Be free, my brothers!
Sarin: …You again?
They spot none other than The Fox, former member of Two Hands’ Two Hands, letting foxes out of cages.
The Fox: You again, yourself!
Yoko: Shouldn’t you be in jail, Fox?
The Fox: Someone paid my bail money.
Yoko: Who would do that?
He shrugs.
Sarin: So you get out of jail, and come here to rob another store? Do you criminals ever change?
The Fox: I’m not robbing anything, I’m liberating my fox brothers!
He turns his back to them and opens another cage, which a fox pounces out of. When he turns back around, he gets a face full of Sarin foot and crumples to the ground. With rope that seemingly comes from thin air, she ties him up. Yoko locates Mr. Naka cowering behind the counter.
Yoko: We’ve captured The Fox, Mr. Naka. You can start rounding up your foxes. The police should be here soon, they’ll help you out. C’mon Frost, let’s get out of here.
They exit the pet store.
Sarin: See, that wasn’t so bad.
Yoko: I kind of feel sorry for that guy.
Sarin: So do-HEY!
There’s a familiar black van parked in the pet store parking lot, though it’s backing out. In the driver’s seat is a man in a black hooded boxer’s robe with red trim; The Idolizer. He waves to them as he drives away.
Yoko: I’ll bet he’s the one who paid The Fox’s bail and brought him here.
Sarin: I REALLY don’t like that guy.
Yoko: We need to find out more about him, let’s go back and ask The Fox!
Sarin: I knocked him out, Yoko. And I already hear the police sirens, we need to go. We’ll find someone else who might know The Idolizer, but we need to get out of here!
Yoko doesn’t want to pass up this chance for information, but she also doesn’t want to deal with the police. She reluctantly follows Sarin in a run for home.
End Segment.
To Be Continued…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:06:53 GMT -5
Match 7: Dan White vs. Jonny Spade
The penultimate match of the night is one that the fans have been speculating about ever since it was announced. Philip gets into the ring and goes to work.
Philip: This is a singles match, set for one fall with no time limit. Introducing first, from Cardiff, Wales, he is a member of the Corporate Alliance… the “Welsh Dragon” Dan White!
Dan gets plenty of boos as he walks down to the ring with spotlights following him. After a rough couple of weeks, he seems to have some fresh confidence drawn from his alignment with the CA, and he flips off the fans with a laugh as he enters the ring and stretches a little.
Philip: And his opponent, from Toronto Ontario… Jonny Spade!
”Bodies” hits, and the crowd shows whose side they’re on in this match, cheering as Jonny makes his way out and down to the ring. Muscular and looking ready for action, he draws looks of jealousy from the male fans whose girlfriends are watching him with doe-eyed smiles; Jonny just smiles back, and slides into the ring raising his arms for a pop from the crowd.
The referee checks both men over, has a quick look for any sign of unwanted intruders, and then signals for the bell to be rung.
Bell Rings.
Considering all that’s occurred in the last few weeks, the fans are not expecting this to be a friendly encounter, and as the match gets going both Jonny and Dan are circling and staring one another down with the intensity of feeling that only comes from a broken alliance. While Dan has found a new “home” with the CA, Jonny is flying solo; whether this will confer an advantage or disadvantage on either man is not clear from the first exchange, as the pair move together and trade a succession of blows. Dan is quicker on his feet, but not by much, and Jonny’s renowned punching power soon has the Welsh Dragon on the back foot.
Dan has to keep on his toes and keep his distance as he formulates a plan; Jonny, meanwhile, goes for the simple option and makes a sudden grab, latching on to Dan’s arm and sending him into the ropes so that he rebounds into a ring-shaking spinebuster. Kicking away before Jonny can make the cover, Dan nips up on his feet and runs to the ropes of his own volition; Jonny is judt about up when Dan comes dashing back and kicks him in the head to make him lurch backward. The crowd boos as Dan completes his “double whammy” with a scissors kick, and makes a pin; the referee counts it and Jonny kicks free just before the 2. The fans pop, and Jonny shoves Dan back, rolls swiftly to his feet and then lifts his lighter opponent up to perform his S-drop #2 (fireman’s carry toss into a backbreaker). The crowd recoils a little at the nasty-looking impact, but has little in the way of sympathy for Dan and cheers once again as Jonny adds a few stomps to his list of woes.
On something of a roll, Jonny circles as Dan gets back on his feet, and shouts at him, challenging him to show what he’s got. This is not perhaps the wisest of decisions, as Dan has a truckload of attitude just waiting to get out, and the “hooligan rush” that has brought him through many violent confrontations in the past now rises to re-energize him. His face flushing with the surge of blood and hormones, Dan lets rip and batters Jonny with a huge barrage of punches and kicks; Joony tries to protect himself, but Dan just forces him back into the corner and there redoubles his efforts until Jonny starts to slip into a sitting position at the base of the post. The boos and other shouts from the crowd finally remind Dan of where he is, and he regains an element of control, slowing his attack a little and then pulling Jonny out of the corner a little way to perform a split-legged moonsault that the crowd simply has to applaud, Kayfabe or otherwise. Wanting a victory to begin his CA career, Dan makes a cover, and the referee calls it, 1…..2…-Jonny gets his arm up, and now after the peak Dan has to deal with the comedown, the aches in his limbs beginning to make themselves felt. To buy himself some time, he places Jonny in a full Nelson lock; the fans boo and start to call for Jonny, and for about 20 seconds there seems to be a stalemate as Jonny gathers the energy to break free. When he does so, it’s with gusto, and Jonny taps himself on the chest with a smile, showing that he’s not done with this match yet. He can’t simply wail on Dan, for his opponent is too smart for that and the pair spend another 30 seconds or so swapping blows until Dan tries to send Jonny into the nearby ropes. Jonny applies the brakes and reverses so the Dan goes into the ropes; thinking quickly, Dan jumps up to the second rope and backflips off, and strikes his- no, wait! Instead of being knocked down, Jonny catches his foe and then bridges backward, planting Dan straight into a pin – the crowd goes nuts and the referee counts, 1….2…thr-
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:07:35 GMT -5
At the last possible moment, Dan is able to break free, and there is a loud groan of disappointment from the crowd which accompanies Jonny’s own grimace. Whatever Dan is feeling, he keeps it under wraps and rolls straight back on to his feet; he runs in and hits Jonny with a baseball slide / extremely low dropkick variant to the ribs while he is still on the mat, and then rolls his foe up close to the ropes. The referee counts, 1…2…- but then the count stops, for the referee has seen that Dan has an illegal hold on his opponent’s ringwear. The crowd boos this, but Dan still protests his innocence as he gets back up; Jonny rises along with him, and now the fans’ anticipation is reaching its height as the two men move forward and attack with fresh purpose, each sensing that the other may almost be weakened enough for them to snatch victory.
Lefts and rights are traded with mounting ferocity, and Jonny brings his power to bear; one huge punch and Dan is dazed, allowing Jonny to lift him in preparation for the Silver Spade. The crowd cheers, urging Jonny to finish it; Dan, however, has enough sense left to know he’s in big trouble and thrashes until Jonny has to release him. As soon as he touches the mat, Dan twirls around and hits Jonny with a twisting kick that makes his head spin. Jonny staggers back and slumps into a seated position on the second rope; Dan runs to the opposite ropes, rebounds and goes for the 75 MPH kick. The consequences could be far more serious than a loss for Jonny if it connects, and he throws himself to the mat in the nick of time, causing Dan to bounce awkwardly off the ropes and hit the floor. He rolls through, however, and before Jonny can get back up, Dan pulls him just clear of the ropes and then locks in his Fujiwara armbar in a grounded capacity with an added headscissors. Jonny struggles, but the move is almost impossible to escape from at full energy, and as the pain mounts, Jonny has to reluctantly accept that there is no way out. Even so, he holds out for 45 seconds before making a controlled tapping motion, and the fans are clearly impressed as the bell rings.
Philip: Here is your winner… Dan White!
The crowd boos Dan as he gets up and celebrates his win; he gives Jonny a last kick in the ribs before exiting, and then slides to the outside. As he walks up the ramp to go and share the good news with the rest of the CA, Jonny gets back on his feet, and the crowd pops for his performance. Rubbing his neck, Jonny knows that he won’t fall for the same strategy again, and holds his head up high with pride undiminished as the show cuts to its final break.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:08:23 GMT -5
Segment: What Are We Going To Do Tonight, Brain? (Credit: Yoko / Sarin)
Yoko and Sarin are in Yoko’s locker room, relaxing after Sarin’s match. They’re both laying on her couch, on opposite ends, with their legs intertwined and draped across each other. Yoko keeps tickling Sarin’s foot, resulting in Sarin driving her heel into Yoko’s stomach.
Yoko: So where do you want to go out to tonight, lovely?
Sarin: Hmmm. I don’t know.
Yoko: We could go to Dorsia again.
Sarin: I doubt it. We don’t have reservations.
Yoko: Jack Rabbit Slim’s?
Sarin: I’m not feeling too retro at the moment. I’d prefer something set in 2006, not 1957. Maybe some other time, though. Keep that in mind.
Yoko: Hell’s Kitchen?
Sarin: What’s that?
Yoko: A local punk rocker club.
Sarin: Yoko…We’re not punk rockers. They’d probably lynch us, or gangbang us, or trample us in a mosh pit. Something weird like that.
Yoko: What about The Hellfire Club?
Sarin: Isn’t that a strip club? A MALE strip club?
Yoko: I don’t know, I just remember overhearing some of the guys mentioning how fun it is.
Sarin: I’m going to fight back my curiosity and not ask which guys. Hey, I have an idea.
Yoko: Yes?
Sarin: Let’s get a pizza, rent some movies, and go back to the hotel. We don’t have to constantly go out.
Yoko: And after the pizza and movies, we…
Sarin: Yes. For the rest of the night. To celebrate tonight’s win.
Yoko: Sounds like a long night you’ve got planned.
Sarin: You’ve put me into this mood, Yoko. Are you complaining?
Yoko: I would never!
Sarin: I didn’t think so.
Sarin pulls her legs from Yoko’s legs and gets up off of the couch.
Sarin: Shall we begin our evening of delight?
Yoko: Yes!
Sarin holds out her hand. Yoko takes it, and Sarin pulls her up off of the couch. They exit the locker room.
End Segment.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:09:27 GMT -5
Segment: The Destruction (Credit: Hunter / FSX)
He tries to fight it, he really does, but Tom Cruise is quite a charismatic fellow. He has some magical power over the human mind that forces one to listen to his obsessive babbling, and this is the exact reason why Hunter now knows the exact history of Scientology. He sits back in his chair as Tom Cruise paces around the table before him. The man with whom Tom Cruise spoke in Arabic sits behind the desk in the dark, this Hunter knows for sure. But for now, all he can do is simply try to take it.
Tom Cruise: Differing accounts of L. Ron Hubbard's life, in particular accounts of Hubbard discussing his intent to start a religion for profit. This last criticism is referenced, among other places, in a May 1980 Reader's Digest article, which quotes Hubbard as saying, "If a man really wants to make a million dollars, the best way would be to start his own religion." But I believe that that was a blasphemous attack against the greatest man who has ever lived. He would never say such a thing.
Hunter: Yeah, sure, believe all you want.
Tom Cruise: Now do you want to talk? Because I have many more pieces of information.
Hunter: ...what are the Lucky Charms?
Tom Cruise: STOP PLAYING GAMES! You know EXACTLY what they are! All you have to do is tell me where they are!
Hunter: ...can I know something else first?
Tom Cruise: ...fine, speak you indecisive mortal.
Hunter: Why in the hell are you helping terrorists retrieve nuclear weapons?
Tom Cruise: You're the one sent by IMF, right?
Hunter: Yeah.
Tom Cruise: Ha! I'm surprised they haven't told you yet.
Hunter: Told me what?
Tom Cruise: There IS no mission. They just lured you here so that you could be destroyed. The IMF and I have teamed up with the terrorists because we have access to all nuclear weapons, and they have an excessive amount of money, oil, and gold. And the Church of Scientology needs many funds.
Hunter: ...what does the IMF have to do that with that?
Tom Cruise: You haven't figured it out yet...despicable...
Hunter: What?
Tom Cruise: The Church of Scientology IS the IMF!
Oh come on, like I, of all omniscient narrators, couldn't resist to add a plot twist.
Hunter: ...I see. So why did they have to kill me?
Tom Cruise: ...there's supposed to be a reason?
Hunter: Usually.
Tom Cruise: But that aspect is supposed to be a MacGuffin. You know, a plot element that just progresses the story but is never clearly solved.
Hunter: I thought that would be the Lucky Charms bit...
Tom Cruise: Wow, two MacGuffins? Who the hell writes this crap?
...oh...wait...
Tom Cruise: Regardless, that does not matter! Because no matter what, the Church of Scientology shall remain supreme over your petty mortal existence!
And at that exact moment, the ceiling crumbles and caves in, bits and pieces of it hitting the foreign man across from Hunter as well as Tom Cruise. But thankfully, none of these parts land on Hunter, and he is able to open his eyes and look at the form of Fallen Souls, who stands on the remains of the broken table and ceiling, still wearing his military uniform. Hunter's eyebrow reaches awe-inspiring heights as he looks at the stunning picture before him.
Hunter: ...where the hell have you been?
FSX: Dealing with politics...oh, and I got to meet Nelson Mandela! That was awesome...but then I got drunk and saw a bunch of crappy celebrities.
Hunter: Oh. Well I've been sitting here listening to Tom Cruise preach Scientology.
FSX: Oh God, are you all right?
Hunter: I've been better.
FSX: Sorry about the wait. Hmm...why the hell is Tom Cruise here? Am I still drunk?
Hunter: I wouldn't think so...and I don't even know where "here" is!
FSX: This is the underground base that is the holding place of the terrorists. I got here by following the advice of NELSON FUCKING MANDELA! Can you believe that? It's amazing.
Hunter: So is Osama here?
FSX: I believe so.
Hunter: How do we get out of here?
FSX: Well, we run in a random direction that is somehow coordinated and helps us find what we have been looking for.
Hunter: But I'm tied to the chair.
FSX: Well I'll free you in an extremely dangerous and yet bad ass way by shooting the rope.
And he does so, freeing Hunter without a single casualty. Hunter gets to his feet and dusts himself off, and then begins to look around the room. The newfound light coming from the hole in the ceiling makes it easier to see his surroundings, and he understands that the room is a simple and dark room that was specifically created for tortures. How does he know that? Well, there ARE skeletons around him. And to add to that, he sees his military gear comfortably propped up in the corner of the room. He grabs it and reapplies it to himself, and then grabs his rifle, cocks it, and looks at FSX.
Hunter: So where do we go now?
FSX: Doesn't matter. Around this time, the writer would get lazy and not attempt to write a logical explanation of how we escaped this hellacious abyss, and would just cut to us blowing the shit out of crazy terrorists.
Hunter: Oh, awesome.
Pause.
FSX: ...that means you!
Oh, right, sorry.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hunter: DIE YOU FUCKING TERRORISTS!
And with that, he and FSX blow the shit out of some terrorists while appearing in a very random location in the base. They run through its interior and continue shooting, until they luckily find a door that reads "Control Center". Without a moment to spare, they kick the door down and enter.
FSX: WHO'S IN HERE?
There is no answer, and so the two of them slightly relax and begin to explore the room, which looks exactly as one would think an evil control room would look like. Hunter approaches the large control board at the head of the room and looks at all of the buttons in complete awe. FSX, meanwhile, draws all of his attention on the exterior of the base, which can be seen through the window that is located directly above the control board.
FSX: So what do you think?
Hunter: I think there's a lot of buttons...
FSX: Quite an astute observation there, Hunter. Now what do you think we should do about those buttons?
Hunter: We probably shouldn't touch them, because we could...like...blow up the world or something.
FSX: Then I guess we should just leave.
?: You're not going anywhere!
And you thought I had run out of clichés, didn't you? Bad reader. BAD.
Hunter: Damn it, it's you!
Tom Cruise walks into the room slightly bleeding from his left cheek, and holding a gun in his right hand. He has dust all over himself, and his look is one of pure anger.
Tom Cruise: You're damn right it's me! And if you thought it was bad before, it gets worse! Scientology was---
FSX: DIE YOU FUCKING COMMIE PIG!
FSX turns his rifle on Tom Cruise and is just about to fire...and then Hunter does the unthinkable.
Hunter: WAIT!
FSX: ...what?
Hunter: We need to ask him some questions.
FSX: ...fine, but do it quick. I want to kill him.
Tom Cruise: You're not the only one...
Hunter: Why did you...wait, you answered that already.
Tom Cruise: Yeah.
Hunter: And we figured out the MacGuffins.
Tom Cruise: Last I checked.
Hunter: I guess there's nothing else---
FSX: Wait! Where's Osama?
Hunter: Yeah!
Tom Cruise: Oh, him. He's been dead for years. Didn't I tell you that your mission was just random bullshit made up by IMF?
Hunter: So then who ordered the attacks on 9/11?
Tom Cruise: Oh that was him. He died about two years ago, and now I'm the head terrorist.
Hunter: Well we're taking this to the police!
Tom Cruise: No you're not! Do you honestly think that the police will believe you? I'm Tom Cruise, bitch!
FSX: He's got a point.
Hunter: Well we could just show them this place!
Tom Cruise: Do you honestly think that I haven't thought about that yet?
He quickly rips off his shirt, and somewhere in the world, the nostrils of many teenage girls begin to flare. Underneath it, Hunter and FSX can see that he is strapped with plastic explosives.
Hunter: ...you wouldn't dare blow yourself up!
Tom Cruise: Oh, I do anything I'm programmed to do.
FSX: Tom Cruise is a robot?
Tom Cruise: I'm not Tom Cruise. I'm one of his ten thousand robot clones.
Hunter: ...God damn it, do we EVER win?
Tom Cruise: No! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
And with that, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small handheld control. His eyes gleam as he looks at the shiny red button on the top of the control. Hunter's eyes widen, but FSX is already two steps ahead of him, and he crashes full force into the sand, covering his head quickly to make sure none of the glass hits him. Hunter sees him take this brilliant action, and he follows suit, narrowly being hit by the force of the explosion that follows him.
-BOOM-
He lands hard on the ground and watches as the sand base goes up in flames.
Hunter: ...now what?
FSX: Well, it's Wednesday. We have about a day to get back to the arena and wrestle for our paychecks.
Hunter sighs, and looks at the helicopter next to them. He climbs inside and turns on the rotary blades, very happy that it works.
Hunter: Can you fly a helicopter?
FSX: No. You?
Hunter: No. How many people have died from attempting to fly a helicopter without any training?
FSX: Quite a lot, I'd bet.
Hunter: Eh, want to risk it?
FSX: May as well.
He climbs into the helicopter alongside Hunter and silently prays to himself.
Hunter: So what did we learn today?
FSX: Tom Cruise is evil, and no one will ever believe us.
Hunter: And I should never ever take an assignment from a seemingly fictional organization.
FSX: Oh, and to add to that, don't go looking for Osama in IRAQ. Though Nelson Mandela spends time here...
Hunter: That about covers it. Let's fly!
FSX gives out a happy yelp, and Hunter pushes the controls forward...and sends the helicopter bellowing into the sand.
Hunter: ...TAKE TWO!
FSX: ...may God have mercy on us...
And this time, the helicopter successfully takes off, sending our two heroes back to their homes and jobs. With yet another tale completed, one would wonder if the self-proclaimed "Kings of Satire" will ever stop doing what they do best.
Yeah, and pigs fly.
...actually, that's a thought.
End.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:10:14 GMT -5
Match 8: Fatal Fourway Match Hunter vs. Rattlesnake vs. Atomic Kitsune vs. Tornado
The time has finally come for the main event, an intoxicating mix of the old guard and newer talents. Philip looks particularly up for this one as he steps into the rings to do the honors.
Philip: Ladies and Gentlemen, our final match this evening will be a fatal fourway contest, with a “first pin wins” stipulation. Introducing first, from Manchester, England… “the next big thing”, Tornado!
”Diary of a Madman” hits the arena, and the crowd starts booing as Tornado walks out, with a look of concentration on his face. He raises his arms and walks to the ring, knowing that this is both a major challenge and a huge opportunity for him. He enters the ring and goes to one of the corners to await the other competitors.
Philip: Next, from Orlando, Florida… “the Vision of Greatness”, Rattlesnake!
”Blind” plays, and the crowd starts to boo once again as the ever-confident Rattlesnake shows his face. He strides down to the ring and enters, pacing around and regarding both the crowd and Tornado with a less than respectful eye, before heading to a corner of his own. He leans back against the turnbuckle, looking relaxed and not exactly stressed at the thought of what he’s about to undertake, but none can really know what he’s feeling beneath the surface.
Philip: The third competitor, from Rochester, New York, he is a member of the Senatorial Stable… Andrew Hunter!
The crowd gets a fresh wind and commences booing anew as Hunter walks out with “These Walls” playing to accompany him. He walks to the ring and enters it, and looks at both his opponents; the crowd are still wondering who on earth he was talking to back at the start of the show, and Hunter is giving nothing away as he takes up a position a short distance from the others in the ring.
Finally, “Fly” begins to play, and the crowd cheers as the fourth and final participant makes her way out into the limelight.
Philip: And the remaining competitor, from London, England, she is the reigning ACW World Champion… Alicia “Atomic” Kitsune!
There is a press of fans at the barriers as AK comes to the ring, and she greets a selection of them before reaching ringside and walking up the steps. With her belt on her shoulder, she does a quick circuit of the turnbuckles so that the fans can grab their photographs, and the other three participants give her just enough room to do so. This completed, AK hands over her belt to head referee Raymond Allen Fleming, and he ensures that any and all other superfluous items are removed to the outside so that there is a neat pile in the timekeeper’s corner.
RAF eyes up each of his charges with a “I’m not putting up with any crap tonight” stare as he reminds them of the rules. Only once he is satisfied that all is in order does he call for the bell.
Bell Rings.
As soon as the bell rings, Tornado is the first to commit to an attack, and he shows he’s determined to be taken seriously by going straight for AK. He’s able to deliver a couple of swift kicks before she can get her defences raised, but then it’s a much more even contest and blows are traded between the two before AK whips Tornado into the ropes. As soon as she does this, Rattlesnake runs in from behind with the intention of clotheslining her down –but instead finds himself on the receiving end as Hunter cuts him off and sticks out a foot, causing Snake to run on it. As Snake grunts and bends over, Hunter hooks him up and delivers a double underhook DDT to make the first cover of the match; it gets close to a 2 before Snake kicks out looking extremely pissed off. As this is happening, AK uses a backbody drop on Tornado; Tornado is flipped but manages to turn in the air and land on his feet, and with RAF’s attention elsewhere he sneaks in a couple of closed hand punches, much to the disapproval of the crowd. AK isn’t best pleased with it either, and as Tornado aims a high angled kick she ducks it, slaps his square across the face and then whips him across the ring… to collide painfully with Hunter, whom Snake has just sent in the opposite direction. As they drop holding their heads, Snake and AK move forward… and there is a pop from the crowd as they come face to face in the ring, an event that the ACW fans have been waiting for for some time. They take only a moment to regard one another before launching into their attacks; AK doesn’t want Snake to take the upper hand and belts him with a couple of mid-kicks, but Snake dodges her third and then gives her a taste of his own jabbing and punching combination. AK looks dazed for a second or so, and Snake lifts her up for a powerbomb taking advantage of her light frame – but Hunter is back on his feet, and the crowd roars as he lunges into a spear that brings both Snake and AK down to the mat with a thud. Hunter scrambles to pin AK, who lands closest to him; RAF makes the count, and at 2 Hunter is interrupted by Tornado, who pulls him off at about the same time as AK kicks of her own accord. Seriously annoyed by this, Hunter leaps up, and Tornado smirks-
But the crowd’s attention is being drawn two ways; someone is coming down the ramp, and as the camera gets a shot it turns out to be two people – the one eyed man, Chance, and his female companion, just as they promised. The fans start to boo, partly because they don’t want this match disrupted, and partly because they think that this is what Hunter was alluding to earlier. If it is, Hunter is doing a great job of hiding it; both he and Tornado, having suffered at the hands of the pair on previous shows, look angry and not at all pleased to see them. They prepare themselves for an attack, but the two new arrivals do not enter the ring; instead, they remain on the outside, watching and walking back and forth. The distraction lets Rattlesnake get the jump on Tornado, and he hits him with the Poisonous Venom, rolling the second German suplex expertly into the pin; both Hunter and AK dive in to break it up just before the 2 count, and the crowd cheers as a mass brawl erupts.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:11:15 GMT -5
It’s every man and woman for themselves; fists and feet fly all over the place, and things only regain some sort of order when Rattlesnake finds himself ejected over the top rope with a running hurricanrana from Tornado. The watchers on the outside have to move smartly out of the way; as this happens, AK catches the eye of the attractive Asian, but deliberately blanks her, sending an unmistakable message that she’s not going to spend one second worrying about them. RAF starts a 10 count whilst also trying to keep an eye on what’s happening in the ring; as Tornado rights himself, he sees Hunter going for the Dynamite on AK, and as Hunter kicks AK in the gut causing her to bend forward, Tornado dashes in, steps up using AK’s back as a handy platform, and hits a sunset flip on Hunter to bring him down straight into a pin. The crowd goes wild for the move, and Hunter is caught totally off guard; RAF makes the count, 1…2- and AK slides in, grabs Tornado and flips HIM over backward into a pin instead. The pop just gets louder as RAF counts again, 1,2- Tornado kicks out and some coarse language emanates from all parties in their frustration. They’re not the only ones in the best of moods; on the outside, Snake is picking his moment to get back in the ring and is about to ambush the distracted three, but then he sees Chance over by the timekeeper’s corner… running a hand over the Snakequalizer. Understandably not wanting to allow someone else to mess with his belongings, Snake runs around the ring, and Chance and his companion back off; it’s as if they want to needle the participants in the match without actually fighting them. By the time Snake turns his attention back to the ring, the moment has passed; Hunter has taken Tornado temporarily down with a neat pendulum backbreaker, and he and AK are circling. RAF casts an eye to the outside, and Snake hurries to slide back in before the head referee has a chance to think about disqualifying him.
There is a moment or two of standoff before Snake moves; he goes for AK, who initially looks like she’s coming to meet him but then ducks under his attempt to tie up and surprises Hunter with a bodyscissors takedown. She tries a cover but Snake lifts her out of it before RAF can even start the count, and he slams her down roughly on top of Tornado who is trying to get to his feet. The crowd boos loudly as AK rolls off of Tornado, and Tornado himself rolls out of the ring; Rattlesnake continues his dominating form with a pumphandle slam, and then goes to make a cover. Hunter, who’s been catching his breath, looks toward the pair, but before he can move Tornado pops up behind him close to the ropes and pulls on his ankles, dragging him out of the ring. As Tornado and Hunter start to batter one another, AK kicks out of Rattlesnake’s pin at 2.5, and draws a loud cheer from the fans; on the back foot until now, she nips up, pushes her hair back out of her face and then lets rip on Snake with a lightning-fast series of kicks, finishing with her Gamengiri that has the crowd roaring in delight. Her pin on Snake gets well past the 2 count before he kicks…
…and on the outside, Tornado nails Hunter with a dropkick to the head from the apron, causing Hunter to slump backward on to the announce desk in a daze. Tornado gets back on the apron and then signals his corkscrew moonsault; the fans yell, and as AK gets up she sees Hunter lying spreadeagled on the desk… it’s a sight that triggers a compulsion in her that she must answer. She hurtles across the ring, and as Tornado leaps from the apron, AK hits the ropes and springboards upward, gaining greater height so that the pair don’t clash in the air. Tornado hits Hunter first, and weakens the table, and then AK delivers the coup de grace by landing her own moonsault on top of Tornado, the combined weight and force splitting it and collapsing the whole thing. The crowd chants “Holy Shit!” for the second time in a week, and Rattlesnake picks himself up to find that he’s literally the only one left standing.
There is only slight movement in the wreckage as RAF begins to make his 10 count. Snake paces back and forth; all he has to do is stay put and he could very well win the match by default, but this isn’t what Snake came for, and with a shake of his head he exits the ring and goes about repopulating it, dragging the other three free of the crushed table and bundling them back in the ring. As he’s doing this, however, he sees that Chance is watching him from close by; there is something that Snake doesn’t like about this, and once he’s shoved Hunter back on to the apron, he confronts the two.
Rattlesnake: What is it with you, huh? You got no business being out here, and you’re pissing me off with that look of yours.
Chance says nothing; he just continues to stare, bold as brass.
Rattlesnake: I’m going to give you a choice… either you leave of your own free will, or I’ll have them carrying you out of here on a stretcher. What’s it to be?
The woman looks at Chance, who takes a familiar coin from his pocket. Without hurrying, he tosses the coin and catches it, before taking a look. It’s tails.
Chance:…………well, I guess you just got lucky.
He pockets the coin, and then to everyone’s surprise, he and the woman walk away without so much as another word. Like all those watching Snake isn’t exactly sure what’s just occurred, but he can’t worry about it now; his opponents are all finally back on their feet, and he re-enters the ring so that the contest can be brought to a conclusion…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 18, 2006 16:12:01 GMT -5
There are a few seconds of calm before the storm breaks, and when it does it almost makes the arena shake as blows are rained down upon all the competitors. Hunter is the first to get a shot at victory, as he counters a kick from Tornado into his Dynamite and pins. Tornado though kicks out just after the 2, and jumps back up to his feet; AK meanwhile has temporarily disabled Rattlesnake with the Fox Flip and, sensing that this won’t be enough for a pin, runs over and joins Tornado in delivering a double roundhouse kick to Hunter. They both go for the pin, and thwart one another by squabbling so that Snake is able to run in and thrust them both aside. Snake then pins, and a severely pissed off Hunter kicks out at the 2 count, glaring at Rattlesnake. He leaps up and tries to get at Snake, but then sees that Tornado has sneaked in a small package on AK and is 2 seconds from the win; he rushes over and pulls Tornado off, and then makes the crowd roar by gut-kicking him and going for the Floyd Kick. In the same timeframe, Rattlesnake tries to hit the Snakebite, but AK grabs the ropes and kicks him back. Snake lashes out, clubs AK with a forearm and then uses his Stun Gun to counter; he drops and pins, 1…..2…- AK gets her shoulder up as the Floyd Kick connects with Tornado, and Hunter continues over and pulls Snake harshly off of his opponent. Snake rises, and the crowd roars as the two men left standing stare one another down….
…and then Hunter smiles, and Rattlesnake smiles back. Tornado is still down from the Floyd Kick, but he’s not the person that the pair are interested in; with her back to them, AK has no idea of what’s about to hit her as Hunter closes the gap, and then turns her around. AK gets just a second to see both her opponents before Hunter nails the Shotgun; the fans boo furiously, but this just makes Hunter and Snake laugh. AK’s in a world of pain, and Snake makes the result a formality with the Snakebite; after a table crash and two huge finishers, AK has nothing left in the tank and Hunter kneels on one knee to get a good view as he lets Snake make the cover, and take the match with the 1,2,3.
Philip: Here is your winner… Rattlesnake!
The audience stares in shock as Rattlesnake and Hunter both rise, smiling gleefully as they look at the carnage before them. Tornado rises and sees the same carnage, and logically decides that the best thing to do would be to leave, so he does just that. Hunter grabs a nearby microphone as Rattlesnake mockingly puts a boot on AK's chest and raises his fists high in the air, amidst the torrent of boos. Hunter raises the mic to his lips and doesn't bother waiting for the boos to die down, for he knows that if he did wait, he'd be there all night.
Hunter: SO...bet none of you saw that coming. All this time you were merrily looking up at the stage in hopes that someone big would return, or someone "amazing" would show up and clean house. And all this time, the person who you were looking for was right in this very ring. Isn't that right, Rattlesnake?
Rattlesnake takes the mic from Hunter gladly and raises it to his lips.
Rattlesnake: That's right Hunter. You see, we staged that whole thing for, well...my benefit. From day one, I've lived up to my name. I've been the Vision of Greatness. But there was something missing...something I couldn't put my fingers on. I talked a lot of trash when I debuted and wanted to walk alone. I wanted to take the ACW into the palm of my hand and toy with it. But I was wrong as it wasn't what I really needed. In truth, I knew I couldn't get anywhere on my own. Sure I could do a few things, but that just wasn't enough for this "Blue Chipper."
He looks back at Hunter and smirks.
Rattlesnake: Now, not too long ago, I had a secret meeting with Hunter here and he told me that he was impressed not only by my recent upset of BK London, but he also saw something in me that he didn't see in any other rookies or anyone else for that matter. He saw the potential that lies within me. Tonight you all have seen what the result of that meeting was.
He hands the mic back to Hunter and poses once more.
Hunter: That's right. And of course I could not resist bringing in such an almighty force. Bringing in where, you may ask? Well...if you haven't guessed already...please welcome the newest member of the Senatorial Stable......RATTLESNAKE!
Hunter drops the mic as "Hail to the Chief" appropriately plays to sign them off and send the two Senatorialites backstage to celebrate with the rest of their stable.
As they make their way up the ramp, AK finally starts to come around properly, and as she sits up the crowd bursts into cheers; Snake and Hunter hesitate for a fraction of a second, but don’t look back.
RAF calls for the medics to take a look at AK, but she politely yet firmly keeps them at bay, and is determined to walk out on her own. She knows full well that she’s been comprehensively defeated tonight by superior strength and strategy, and her grip on the title belt that RAF hands back to her seems to be less solid by the day…
The Senatorial Stable has a new member, and the two major factions of ACW continue to grow stronger. But can they turn this potential into actual gold?
The time of reckoning, at Spring into Hell, fast approaches…
Fade to Black.
End of show.
OOC: Ending events credit to Hunter/Rattlesnake
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Post by hunter on May 18, 2006 16:14:47 GMT -5
Awesome show! New members, great segments, great everything. Spring Into Hell comes ever closer!
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