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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:41:59 GMT -5
Thursday Night Meltdown 8th March 2007
Schedule of Matches: ---------------------------------
The Doctor vs VorteX
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Wyldcard vs England Lad and San Juan
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Jack Jefferson vs Thunderkiss
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Brimstone vs Nick Durden - Ross Lambert
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Rattlesnake vs Latino
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Top Draw vs Chance Emmerson and Starkweather
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:42:17 GMT -5
Opening Segment: "Public Explanation" (Credit: Rattlesnake)
The show starts off with a podium in front of an ACW backdrop. Numerous mics are positioned to capture all of the speaker's words. Rattlesnake walks in as flashbulbs go off and stands behind the podium. He takes a deep breath, knowing full well what he must do.
Rattlesnake: Tonight I stand before you on orders from the Chairman to issue a public apology for my actions over the past week's time. But one thing that was not ordered was to explain to you all what is actually happening with me. I feel that's something I must divulge on my own volition.
He clears his throat and places his hands on two of the podium corners.
Rattlesnake: First off, I wish to apologize to each of the individuals who received bodily harm at the hands of...well...me. I also wish to apologize to their families. I'm sure it hasn't been an easy time for them to deal with this kind of circumstance.
Reporter 1: So what about you?
Rattlesnake: I'll get to that in a second.
Reporter 2: Are you mentally insane?
Rattlesnake: Give me a chance to finish, please.
Reporter 3: Did you see Bigfoot in Florida?
Rattlesnake: Will somebody get this moron out of here?
Rattlesnake shakes his head. He was growing tired of the ignorance of the press. They always want answers and when they get them, they put a spin on it and they would no doubt put a spin on this. There was no way to avoid it.
Rattlesnake: I wish to make amends to all the people I injured within the past 7 days in hopes that they can find it within themselves to forgive me.
That sounded good. It was true though. He did feel bad about what he had done. It was uncharacteristic of him to feel that way, but given the circumstance, it was a feeling he had.
He takes another deep breath. It was time to reveal to everyone his little secret. The question is...would they believe him no matter how far fetched it sounds?
Rattlesnake: The person that committed these atrocities was me, but then again, it wasn't me.
All of the reporters murmur and seem to be confused at his statement.
Rattlesnake: I understand that doesn't make sense, but please, allow me to say what I have to say. It will all make sense in the end.
A silence falls over the room. All eyes seem to be fixated on Rattlesnake. Granted he hated to speak in front of people like this, he really had no choice.
Rattlesnake: What all of you have seen over the past 7 days was another personality. Many people think I have a multiple personalities disorder, but that's not exactly true. Those people that were attacked, well...they were attacked by a sort of alter-ego. Years ago, when I was in a legal battle with my own brother, I was filled with an indescribable form of rage. It didn't make me angry, but it felt like it stayed in the dark recesses of my own heart. It was like all the hate, anger, stress, and thirst for pain manifested this "alter-ego" in my heart.
A lot of the reporters just seem to not even believe what he was saying. Rattlesnake knew this might be the case though.
Rattlesnake: It lied dormant until a few years ago. This "alter-ego" found a way to break through and practically take control of me. How this happened, no one knows. But the fact remains that it has the capabilities to do something like this.
A few of the reporters start to look at Rattlesnake, as if some of what he was saying began to make some shred of sense.
Rattlesnake: I was able to suppress it after a long while, but it had caused some physical and emotional damage that couldn't be fixed. I regret those things happening in my life.
He decided to reveal those things at a later time. There was no need to reveal everything at this point in time anyways. There would always be time later to go over what those things are.
Rattlesnake: It appears that last week, this suppressed "alter-ego" managed to break free and did what it normally does...hurt people. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what it had done.
Reporter 1: Does this "it" have a name?
Rattlesnake: Well, it was never the most unique of alter-egos. It tends to call itself "Cobra" though.
Reporter 2: Is there any way of suppressing him again.
Rattlesnake: It is possible. The only thing to worry about are the time's when he would appear and cause whatever damage he wanted.
Reporter 1: What exactly do you plan to do about this?
Rattlesnake: The only thing I can think of is try to maintain my composure as best I can. If anyone tries to set me off, it could cause a chain reaction that would lead to "Cobra" reappearing and no way to fully control him. I had hoped that he wouldn't come back, but it seems that I failed in keeping him away. The only thing I can really do now is try to contain him as best I can.
Reporter 2: Is there anything you want to add?
Rattlesnake: Actually yes. There is one thing I wish to add to all of this. As it turns out, Cobra is extremely violent. For him to be standing face-to-face with you, it would mean certain injury. I say that as a warning. I don't know who all will heed that warning, but think about what's happened to the others before you try and tempt fate.
It was out. It seemed believable. Even to him. But it was a little hard to swallow. Something like this doesn't come every day and when it does, no one believes it. They blame it on stress or failure. That just may be the case this time. That epic "spin" the press uses will be done in this situation.
Rattlesnake: Anything else you wish to know about this particular situation?
Reporter 2: Why causes him to appear?
Rattlesnake's head twitches. His voice even changes this time.
cobra: Oh nothing too big. Just the wish to harm everything in his path.
Reporter 1: Why did your voice change?
He pushes the podium aside to a screeching feedback from the speakers. He grabs the reporter by the throat and literally lifts him out of his seat.
Cobra: Let's think about this for a second. Maybe it's because I'm him. Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Rattlesnake proceeds to slam the reporter down with a chokeslam. All of the other reporters in the room scatter instantly to avoid his wrath.
He just stands there with that same sadistic grin he had on Warfare.
Cobra: Let it never be said I couldn't clear the room. Ha-ha-ha-ha.
Rattlesnake grins.
Cobra: Looks like this just might be the same with Latino later tonight. Rattlesnake could never beat him, but I know I can.
The scene fades out with Rattlesnake laughing maniacally.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:44:23 GMT -5
Segment: The Past… (Credit: Jefferson)
The scene opens in what appears to be a long deserted warehouse. There isn’t a single intact window left and feeble plastic sheets are all that separates inside from out. The floor is a veritable schmorgasboard of trash, hundreds of cigarette butts litter the floor which is carpeted in shards of glass. The floor also houses numerous crushed beer cans, smashed vodka bottles and, worryingly, copious hypodermic needles along with the stereotypical potato chip packets rustling in the breeze.
For the most-part the warehouse floor is clear, other than the litter, however, towards the far end looms a plethora of abandoned machinery. Much like the walls, these towering structures are obscured by graffiti, not to mention the perennial rust damage. Immediately to the left of the scene there is a dark brown stain, which looks suspiciously like blood, on one of the walls with a trail leading to the floor. Opposite to this is a dark figure, totally cloaked by shadow.
??: Welcome to my past…
The figures steps into a shaft of light, illuminating his face and identifying him as Jack Jefferson. Jack isn’t wearing his usual suit but instead is wearing a simple white t-shirt with a black design ranging from the right side abdomen to the point of the right shoulder, as well as a pair of dark blue jeans.
Jefferson: Ok, maybe not exactly my past, per se, but more a representation of the area I grew up. Evidently, Ginger is too cheap to fly me to England to do this properly, so here I am.
Jefferson pauses for a second, looking around him with a look of disgust on his face.
Jefferson: For those of you who are a little…delayed, you know…brain-wise. This scene represents the repugnant neighbourhood where I was raised in what was the closest thing to poverty this side of Eastern Europe. There were some days when I didn’t get to eat and that was hard to deal with.
Jefferson pauses for a second his stone-set face relaying the gravity of his words and demonstrating that he is utterly serious.
Jefferson: I wasn’t exactly what you would call a model student, expelled from 2 schools by the age of 13, once for attempted arson and another for assaulting a teacher…he was a prick anyway, he was asking for me to stab him with my compass…
Jefferson: But that isn’t relevant, what is relevant is that I wasn’t considered to be someone who would make a success of their life, I was predicted to be in jail for an extended sentence by the age of 18. Shows what they know, huh.
Jefferson’s trademark smirk returns to his face as he has no qualms about showing just how proud he is of what he has achieved, despite the fact not all his achievements were attained in wholesome fashion.
Jefferson: Basically it was assumed I would be a jailbird at the earliest opportunity, GBH was the most likely charge so I’m told, that was until I was finally plucked from the cess-pool that is the area of Mosside, Manchester.
Jefferson: Finally, my mother did something right by bedding her soon-to-become millionaire husband. All I can say is…thank fuck, the cheap whore eventually got it right! It took her 15 years but better late than never.
Jefferson struts to the entrance of the warehouse and the camera switches to another placed directly outside the thickset metal doors. The sun is shining and the sky is a vibrant blue, total contrast to the scene held within those doors. After a second the doors begin to creak, opening outwards slowly at first before swinging rapidly on their rusted hinges, making a clanging noise as they clatter into the brickwork. Jefferson emerges, arms held wide and a large grin painted on his face, from the dark, slowly making the change from dark to light. The scene has a pious quality about it which just serves to further highlight Jefferson’s rampant ego.
Jefferson: From here things were looking up, I relocated to Miami where I could achieve my righteous place as one of the “Beautiful People”.
Jefferson pauses to stare longingly at the camera, a slight pout formed with his mouth. It’s hard to tell whether he’s being serious or just joking, but the answer becomes apparent as a large grin breaks through.
Jefferson: My step-father had a huge passion for wrestling and decided to share his interest with me by taking me to a MPW (Miami Pro Wrestling) show, my mother had suggested we bond or something. I was less than enthusiastic about going in all honesty, I’d have rather stayed at home playing Playstation but I was forced to go along, and I’m truly glad I was.
Jefferson: I was hooked from the first minute, from the high-flying Luchadores to the mat-based Technical wrestlers I couldn’t get enough. The very next day I took up training to become a wrestler myself and, as always happens, I made an instant impression.
Jefferson is now strolling around sun-kissed streets, various teenagers pulling faces behind him because, for some unknown reason, they believe this to be a cool way of getting spotted on TV. He stops by a street vendor who is displaying all the days newspapers and magazines which Jefferson browses, picking up each wrestling-based publication to see if his name makes the cover. One such magazine, Pro Wrestling Insider, promises an article entitled “Jack Jefferson – Will he stay or will he go?” at which Jefferson grins, pleased with his own hype, until seeing that the cover star is none other than long-standing rival Marcus Curtis. Disgusted, Jefferson places the magazine back on the rack before paying for a bottle of water and walking on. He drinks a large mouthful before continuing to talk.
Jefferson: After a record six months training with MPW I was ready for my first match which was, naturally, an emphatic victory over MPW mainstay “The Ravishing Redneck” Bobby Redd. From there on I went on to dominate MPW, holding their Main Event Title for an unprecedented 1 Year, whilst wrestling for Indies all over America. Shortly after I was forced to relinquish my grip on my title I got a call from WWE.
A nearby shopper, upon hearing the WWE name, spins around, a look of shock adorning his face as he spots Jefferson. He scrabbles around in his many pockets before retrieving a scrap of paper and a black biro with one end chewed into oblivion. He then rushes over, interrupting Jack with numerous calls of “Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Jefferson!”
Jefferson turns to face him, an icy-cold stare on his face, and simply mutters the words “Fuck off!” before turning back to face the camera. The fan, a hurt expression on his face, decides to continue and says “Please, Mr. Jefferson, could you sign this piece of paper fo--”. He is cut off as Jefferson spins around and, in one fluid motion, plants an audible smack to the fan’s jaw. The fan goes tumbling to the floor, a look of shocked horror painted onto his features. Jefferson retorts with “I told you to fuck off! I’m busy and if you dare to bother me one more time then you will be in need of major reconstructive surgery, now leave me alone!” The fan hurriedly scrambles to his feet before making a beating retreat. Jefferson’s expression simply returns to normal as he proceeds to face the camera once more, continuing as if nothing happened.
Jefferson: I graduated from OVW within 3 months and was moved to Raw where I was placed in a programme with none other than HHH. Backstage, before the match, Hunter remarked that he’d seen my stuff and thought I would amount to nothing more than a midcard jobber and how he personally would see to it. So during the match I decided that if all I would amount to here would be that I may as well make a name for myself in this match and leave. This led to me breaking HHH’s over-swollen nose and forcing him to submit to a Key Lock. Vince McMahon was less than pleased and responded to my comment of “Suck my dick” by handing me my release papers.
Jefferson smiles inwardly, as if the memory of his time in WWE pleased him.
Jefferson: From there I went on to wrestle for more than 50 Indy promotions including a brief return to MPW and a Tag Title run in ROH. I left my mark wherever I went until I arrived in what was, before my inception into it’s ranks, a little-known federation simply called “Fallout”. You all know the rest, the uphill battle as I strived to bring credibility to a previously dead-belt within a lifeless promotion. Needless to say, Fallout is what I made it, but, needless to say, I will address this issue later on.
Jefferson: For now, I will leave you mulling over my judicious words, I don’t want to overload your puny brains after all.
Jefferson eases his hands into his pockets, a wide smirk adorning his features as we…
Fade to Black
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:49:01 GMT -5
Segment: Reasons and Goodbyes (Credit: The Doctor)
The scene opens up in a run down quarry on a long forgotten planet somewhere in time, the wind blows fiercely across this chasm causing dust to swirl and dance in what seems like miniature tornados, a loud whooshing sound can be heard getting louder and louder, growing louder then the wind as a blue police box begins to materialise out of no where
The door opens and a man bounds onto the screen, he is dressed in white plimsoles, a black pinstripe suit accompanied by a brown jacket, he twirls on the spot taking in the surroundings his hair blowing in the wind, he has a grave look on his face , as he stares over near an abandoned piece of a machinery a strange noise fills the air
The camera pans over as a strange column appears out of no where, as though it taken from some ancient roman building, it slides around and out of it walks an old and frail man he is wearing long robes of red and yellow and his face is surrounded by masses of grey hair he walks over to the doctor limping slightly and coughing as though each one pained him, the doctor looks at the man with a look of contempt and loathing.
The Doctor: The Master i see you have regenerated since we last met.... why have you called me to this planet?... What possible use would anything you have to say, be to me?
The Master smiles, each wrinkle in his face displaying an arrogance and hatred for the doctor and everything he stands for he begins to speak in a slow, strained, ancient voice
The Master: Always arogant Doctor, it never suited you and this latest regeneration so full of anger and hatred alas i came here to tell you....my greatest enemy that i am dieing
He coughs for what seems like an eternity before falling to his knees, The Doctor rushes down to support him before lieing him on his back abover the rocky surface
The Master: I came here to warn you Doctor your enemys have grown in number and this time they have a plan even you cant stop, The Cyberman, The Daleks, The Autons, The Ice Warriors all of them are in on it, all them will not rest untill that planet your so fond of is under there control and you are dead.....all i can tell you is (he coughs again and spits something green onto the ground) that you should go to ACW in the year 2006 there you will find many enemys waiting for you all under the control of your greatest foes only by defeating them will you be able to save them and prevent them for enacting their true purpose
The Doctor Why are you telling me this , you hate earth.....you hate me
The Master I wont be regenerating this time Doctor...i grow weary of hatred and anger perhaps for once i can help to save the world
He tilts his head back, signs of life beginning to fade
The Master Goodbye Doctor you were my greatest adversary
The Masters eyes slowly begin to close and he lays still, The Doctor gets to his feet , glancing down at The Masters motionless body a single tear rolls down his cheeks
The Doctor: Goodbye, Father…
Scene fades with the doctor standing over the master’s fallen body, the wind rustling through his hair and his jacket…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:51:01 GMT -5
Segment – Observations (Credit: VorteX)
The camera fades in to a wide shot of a roof, which seems deserted for the moment until a man walks out into the center of it and sits He places a lunchbox and a small stereo in front of him. The camera zooms in on this man as he opens his lunchbox, he notices the camera it seems to startle him, but then he gets a look of determination on his face. As the man begins to speak he turns on the stereo and Ladies and Gentlemen by Saliva begins to play.
Man: My name is Bob. I am a one man house building machine. At an early age…
Out of nowhere a ladder flies into the shot flattening the man, it ricochets off the ground and lands somewhere nearby out of shot and the man falls out of the shot as well. The music keeps blaring out of the stereo until a foot comes into view and kicks the stereo over causing it to land on the stop button.
Vortex: There will be no music for this segment. I decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator up here and (points to cameraman) what do you do? You decide to film Bob the Builder over here. So much for a ‘delayed’ entrance.
Vortex walks over out of shot, picks up the ladder, walks back into shot, sets it up and sits on the second rung so he fills the view up.
Vortex: Most of you out there may rightly be wondering what exactly I am out here for. It seems that some of my fans are starting to doubt in my abilities, since I have lost quite a few matches and bear no gold around my waist. One has to sit back and reflect however on what these titles and streaks actually represent. Titles as some have shown around here are nothing more than mere items to carry around or in some cases thrown away. Some are actually driven insane by the insatiable lust for gold….
At this moment a giant body blocks the camera view. It seems the man named Bob has recovered from his nap and is in an arguing mood.
Bob: Vortex, you say that gold means nothing and you’re wrong! I was once in the Olympics and came ever so close to winning the discus event! But NO! I HAD TO LOSE!
The man produces walks out of shot and produces a discus from somewhere, looks with an odd gleam in his eye and smashes himself in the head with it, knocking him out cold. Vortex seems relieved that this distraction is gone and continues.
Vortex: What really matters in this business are impression a wrestler makes. Doing something incredible and leaving a lasting impression is what gets you remembered, not some long winning streak or a gold title. Therefore, I am unfazed by my losing streak, I will not be driven over the edge…rather I will continue to put on the show I always have and prove to you fans that I need to make no mark, because I AM the mark. Vortex gets off of the ladder and begins to pack it up when a large noise can be heard, what sounds like a struggle. The camera swings to a man who has just decked a security guard with a chair and is now running toward Vortex at top speed.
Man: Vortex! I am your biggest fan! I know how you’re going to end the segment, and I want to do it for you as a tribute!
Vortex looks puzzled at this sudden interruption, wondering what the man with the chair could possibly do to make a tribute to him. He suddenly realizes that this rabid fan must have watched his other segment and is meaning to jump off of the roof like Vortex appeared to last time.
Vortex: You know I didn’t really….
His words trail off as the man sails off the roof in a rather ugly back flip smashing against the edge and falling overboard still screaming “EXCEEEEPTIIIONNN!!!” on his way down. Vortex decides against seeing what happened to the man not wanting to be framed for hefting people off of roofs by the dazed security guard. Vortex quickly walks out of shot towards the building.
Vortex (to the cameraman): Next time I go to do a segment, remind me not to do it on a roof in broad daylight, too many distractions.
The shot fades out into a wide view of the roof as Vortex continues to walk, and then run away from the now wide awake security guard who was standing over the mad discus man and is now running after Vortex fitting to pin him with a crime and land him in jail.
Vortex: (barley audible): Will I survive? Tune in next week!
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:52:36 GMT -5
Segment: Taking care of “(un)official” Business (Credit: Jonny Spade/GooeyGarth) The scene opens up with Jonny and Gooey outside their locker room door with a smirk on their face with a briefcase in each of their hands. Jonny is seen standing on the right side and Gooey is standing on the left side. Kevin Anderson then walks out, into the shot and stands in between them.Kevin: Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce my guests at this time…Wyldcard. The crowd cheers.Kevin: I understand you both have an announcement you’d like to say to the ACW fans? Jonny: Yes Kevin we do… Jonny clears his throat and the camera focuses onto Jonny with the mic barely visable in the bottom left corner of the screen.…our announcement has to do with regarding the ACW “champs” so listen up. You see Gooey here and I have been doing our own…what’s the best word to use here….uh… Gooey: Rummaging? Jonny: That’s it. We’ve been doing some rummaging around our houses for what we have in these briefcases that we have in here. You see, last week BK and Jake had “declared” themselves the “official” tag champs here in ACW. But with what? Outdated-poor excuse of a belt from a poor excuse fed. And on top of that, the fed has been out of business for over how long? Gooey: I can't recall. I do remember Littlefoot being the World champ at one point though. Jonny: Oh yeah, and Adam and Eve were a tag team too weren't they? Gooey: Yeah...but really though, long enough to lose all creditability. Jonny: Exactly. So since it seems to be what all the “cool” people are doing around here. We thought we would join in on the craze. Gooey its time to open up the case. Then in unison they both lift up their respective briefcases and place it on their left arm to balance it. Then with their right hand they lift the locks and open it up to show two title belts that have not been on ACW TV for almost a year. They both take the belts out of their briefcases and place the belts on their shoulders and smiles wickedly, as the fans continue to cheer for seeing the belts on cameraGooey: Now, what's really neat about these belts is their design. Notice the big dip in shape right here around the bottom, just enough to protect the groin area from danger... Kevin: What about a toe punt? Jonny: Kevin, please! Lets not get nasty! Gooey, if you will. Gooey: Certainly. Gooey takes his belt and straps it tightly around his waist, firmly positioning the plate comfortably before standing legs apart, chin up, and hands behind his back. After which Gooey gives a nod to Jonny.Jonny: Some times actually, we like to play a game of Roshambo. Usually with a little something on the line, we're not reckless. Also of course while wearing these as not to cause any permanent damage. Jonny hands his belt to Kevin and positions himself a couple of steps away from Garth. Rubbing his hands together and carefully calculating his target while swaying to and fro. Finally Jonny steps forward and lands a boot straight forward right on the "G-spot". Garth winces, but otherwise stands the way he was.Gooey: Didn't feel a thing... ... .. coughJonny: You alright? Gooey: Oh yeah, I'm just gonna sit down. Y'know, my legs just a little tired. Garth starts a breathing exercise sitting buddha style, while Jonny rolls his eyes and faces the camera Jonny: So now, BK, Jake, you’re not the hotshots that you were before. We are claiming ourselves now the “official” tag team champions of ACW. Now if you will excuse us we need to get ready for our match this evening. With that, Jonny takes his belt from Anderson's clutches and makes his exit with a bent over limping Garth close behind leaving Kevin shocked and his mouth dropped down.End Scene.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:53:01 GMT -5
Match 1: The Doctor vs VorteX (Credit: Latino)
The first match of the night gets underway as soon as the competitors are in the ring; Vortex lunges forward with a kick to the gut but the Doctor dodges to the side as moves quick. He then pulls him arm back and launches forward with a strong punch that nails hard across his opponent’s jaw. Vortex stumbles back a few steps as he grabs his jaw. Doctor runs back towards the ropes and bounces off. He goes for a scissors kick but this time Vortex is the one to dodge out of the way. He takes a second to survey the situation and then smacks the Doctor right across the face with a big roundhouse kick. A loud SMACK echoes throughout the arena as the fans let out a loud OOOOOOOOH. Doctor stumbles against the ring ropes as Vortex pulls him back and locks on for a Tornado DDT. He spins around and drives his opponent’s head right into the mat. He pushes him on his back and goes for a quick cover as the Referee slides onto the mat. He slaps the mat once….and before he can make it a two the good Doctor kicks out. The moments pass on by as Vortex stands back up and Doctor rolls himself closer to the ropes. He grabs it and slowly starts pulling himself back onto his feet. Vortex starts moving behind him as he waits for his opportunity. Just as the Doctor is fully up, Vortex grabs him from behind and tries for a very high angle German Suplex, but the Doctor has a firm hold of the ring ropes. He keeps that grasp and then slams Vortex with a stiff elbow jab to the face.
Doctor then quickly spins around and without any such notice drops down Vortex with the classic DDT of his own. Vortex bounces against the mat and is laid out for a few seconds as the Doctor slides underneath the ring ropes and drags his opponent with him. He lets his head hang over the ring apron and as the Referee begins to count takes a few steps back. Then with a look to the fans he charges forward and leaps up with a strong scissors kick to the back of the head. Vortex falls over and slams into the outside mats as Doctor climbs up onto the ring apron. He waits until Vortex stands himself back up and then leaps off the ring apron with a Diving Spear that nearly breaks him in half. The Referee suddenly yells out FIVE and the Doctor knows it’s time to move. He grabs Vortex by the arm and pulls him up onto his feet and Irish Whips him back inside the ring. He climbs up onto the ring apron and then up top to the turnbuckles. He looks left and right and then jumps off the top with the Sonic screwdriver. As he twists and turns, Vortex quickly rolls off to the side and gravity takes effect as Doctor slams into the ring mat. Vortex slowly moves back up to his feet and his opponent works to do the same. Both men are now stumbling around the ring as this match is starting to take it’s toll on both of them. Vortex is the first to turn around but Doctor is just seconds behind him. He makes the first move and goes for a big spear. Vortex quickly takes note of this and quickly stops the Doctor right in his tracks with a Pele kick to the face. Doctor nearly falls back but he keeps himself upright. Vortex smirks a bit as he runs towards the nearest turnbuckle and is up top in a matter of seconds. He leaps off and flips as he nails his opponent with the Blackout Dropkick that connects with intensity. Both men hit the mat hard but Vortex is the one that goes for the cover and the Referee makes the one…two….three count.
Phillip: Here is your winner by pinfall…….Vortex!
The crowd is well pleased with VorteX’s victory; the Doctor is pragmatic, but it’s certain that he won’t forget this loss.
Fade to commercials.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:54:24 GMT -5
Segment: Prosperous Proposition (Credit: BK/England Lad)
As the segment opens we see the team England Lad and San Juan in their locker room preparing for an contest against the former ACW Tag Team Champions, Wyldcard. The fans aren't exactly behind them to win the match, but in their long absence they have apparrently been working on the art of tag teaming and appear to be ready to shock the crowd. They appear to be conversing a bit, most likely on the match which is coming up soon. The conversation between the two are inaudible to the ACW audience- but what the crowd does hear is the rather loud knock on the door and the eventual barging in of one familiar wrestler. To a mixed reaction from the crowd, BK London appears on the screen with his PWB Tag Team Championship draped over his shoulder which gets very perplexed glances by both San Juan and England Lad.
BK: What? Surprised to see me?
San Juan: Well, you weren't exactly INVITED, so yeah, we're pretty surprised to see you..
BK: Well enough with the introductions, I don't have much time to talk now because you have a match against Wyldcard up next, am I right?
England Lad: ...right...
BK: Well, I have a proposition for you both concerning that very match.
England Lad: A proposition you say? I think I know what that means. Well, let me discuss it with my partner a bit before we accept this "proposition".
BK: Listen, I already told you we don't have enough time.
England Lad: Make time.
BK: ......fine. You've got 20 seconds.
England Lad: 20 seconds you say? That's only 10 less seconds then we need. It's a good thing I'm not wasting time. By talking to myself
The tag team of England Lad and San Juan walk over to their own little corner of the locker room while BK London begins to "admire" the rather bland scenery in the locker room, and they begin discussing the matter at hand.
San Juan: ....Alright, what's a proposition?
England Lad: ....
San Juan: .....well....
England Lad: It doesn't matter now, this man is a former ACW Champion, I think we should take it. If we're down with him, we're officially down with one of the best in ACW history, and that means free chicks.
San Juan: How good will they be.
England Lad: At least 10's
San Juan: Yes! I finally get to Throw Some D's on some bitches!
England Lad: ....what does that mean anyway?
San Juan: ....you know, I don't know.
While it's clear that the two of them don't know exactly what proposition means, they seem to have grasped to the fact on making big friends in ACW to get them further. They seem to somewhat agree on the fact and they return back over to BK, who is anxiously awaiting their answer.
England Lad: We're in.
BK: Perfect. Alright here it is. You go out in the next, about three minutes, and you fight Wyldcard in a match. And I want you to win that match, that's all. And maybe rough them up a bit afterwards.
San Juan: And what's exactly in it for us?
BK: A shot at the only tag team championships in ACW.
After that statement, he holds up the championship and slaps it a bit as the pair begins to gaze at the shiny chunk of gold, and quickly he snatches he belt away.
BK: You got what to do?
San Juan: Of course.
BK: Do it right, or else...
England Lad: Or else what?
BK: You don't even want to know...
BK throws the PWB Tag Team Championship back over his shoulder and steps out of the locker room while the two begin to converse more excitingly about their plan tonight.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:56:11 GMT -5
Segment: I am… (Credit: Shawn)
I want nothing. I am nothing.
The scene opens with a simple shot of an old, worn punching bag. In seconds, it is very nearly torn to shreds by a blinding series of cobra-like strikes.
I want nothing. I am nothing.
The shot pans back and the ACW World Champion Chance “Tiger VII” Emmerson can be seen moving his hands and legs at a feverish pace. Sweat pours down his chiseled frame as he pushes himself closer and closer to his limit.
I want nothing. I am nothing.
He connects with countless combinations that rock the thick, sand laden back to its very foundation. Finally, when he knows he can handle no more, he places all of his power into one stiff, powerful kick. Following a roar, the kick connects to its target and the bag crumbles to the floor. The force of the blow broke it from its harness almost immediately.
I am nothing.
He falls to his knees in pure exhaustion. He’s physically spent. He closes his eye and tries his best to block out the world. Yet…he can’t escape the light sound of a familiar set of hands clapping in approval. He also can’t say that it’s a sound he dislikes.
Umeko: Very good, my Tiger… Very good.
The Seventh Tiger can’t help but feel her voice sounds…distracted, somehow. There is a genuine quality to her words…but they sound like the words of a woman in a day dream.
Chance: Thank you, my Queen.
Umeko: You’re peerless. You’ve reached a level of strength and discipline that I didn’t even think was possible up until now. You’ve reached what should have been your prime and you’ve surpassed it…
She walks up to him with a wicked, twisting smile on her face. She’s dressed like something out of a hellish dream… She’s exceedingly proper and notably deranged all at the same time. Her lovely black dress dances with the shadows. It gives her an playful and devilish quality all at once.
Umeko: You’ve surpassed it…
Her twisted smile quickly sours…
Umeko: And yet… I find that you don’t amuse me near as much as you used to. Something has changed… What do you think that is, my pet?
With a tired, far off look in his eye, Chance searches his mind for an answer. Finally, in frustration, he wipes this sweat from his brow and rises up to his feet with just a hint of rage.
Chance: I don’t know…
Umeko: I’ll be frank with you… You’re not as exciting as you used to be. You lack the fire in you that made me want to break you in the first place. Now…you’re just broken… What’s the fun in breaking a toy if it’s already broken? I never sat out to break you completely. Perhaps, in my zeal, I’ve been a little too good in doing my job!
With a hiss, she slaps him hard across his cheek. In return, he doesn’t even move a muscle.
Umeko: See!? Nothing! If I were in your position, then I’d…I’d be thankful that I’ve been so patient with you. When people like me break toys…we tend to throw them away. I sincerely hope, given our history, that you give me a reason not to throw you away… Am I making myself clear?
Chance: Yes, my Queen…
She scowls, and turns towards the door in one fluid motion.
Umeko: Good… Now we have a little meeting with an “old friend” to attend. Follow me.
Completely unsure as to how to react…he does the only thing he knows how to do in this instant. He follows her.
I am nothing.
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:57:26 GMT -5
Segment: …The Present… (Credit: Jefferson)
We open in Jack Jefferson’s lockeroom where Jack is sat on the couch, a bottle of water in one hand and the remote in the other, as he watches previous matches from his opponent for this evening, Thunderkiss.
Jefferson: Last week I made my debut here in ACW, and a damn successful one at that as I pinned the Entertainment Champ’s shoulders to the mat. I plan on continuing that trend this evening.
The footage on Jefferson’s widescreen TV shows the finish of TK’s match from Monday night. Jefferson smirks as TK is rolled up as Flamingo pins him for the victory. Jefferson’s right hand twitches as he turns off the TV. He then rises to face the camera.
Jefferson: From the footage of Thunderkiss that I’ve watched, and that is a lot – I even sat through those godawful and decidedly unfunny “Thunderkiss Idol” segments, I’ve made two decisions about Thunderkiss. 1 being that he relies on charisma and steroids rather than talent, 2 being that I can easily beat him tonight. The man just isn’t on my level, he doesn’t even come close.
Jefferson strides over to the fridge, depositing his empty water bottle in the bin as he does so, and takes out another bottle of water as well as a banana.
Jefferson: Thunderkiss is embroiled in some sort of war with Jason Freeman and seems unable to take the guys title. I beat Freeman on Monday with ease, this tells me that “TK” is nothing special and is merely another stepping stone on the road to success.
Jefferson pauses to take a large bite out of the banana and chews it slowly, content to let everyone wait for what he’s got to say next. He swallows and washes the mouthful down with a mouthful of water before continuing.
Jefferson: Tonight you will see another impressive victory, tonight I will show the ACW roster just what I’m capable of…I’m sending ACW a warning, a warning of which they would do well to take notice.
Fade to Black.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:58:20 GMT -5
Match 2: Wyldcard vs England Lad and San Juan
Just having Wyldcard on the card has the crowd’s anticipation sky-high for this match, but it’s Lad and Juan who start with a real fire in their bellies – that pep talk from BK has obviously done its job. Despite being smaller and lighter, Lad pushes Gooey back from the off and then proceeds to out-speed his opponent, using a combination of strikes and leading into a neat dropkick for the first pin. It gets nowhere near the two, however, and Gooey turns the whole thing over for a pin attempt of his own. Lad breaks out at the 2 count, scrambles up and tags in Juan, who comes flying off the turnbuckle with an axehandle and catches Gooey off guard. Gooey is up before he can be pinned again, though, and the next two to three minutes see a number of short, sharp exchanges with both men seemingly a little wary, not wanting to lose ground to one another.
Eventually the match sparks back into life when Juan chances his arm and tries to shoulder-block Gooey; his opponent is able to stand up to this and Juan bounces off, leaving himself open. Gooey neatly capitalizes with an arm wrench / hook kick, segues this into the Eagle Claw as Juan tries to get up, and tops things off with the Talon Swoop (Eagle claw to chokeslam) for a big pop. The pin gets just past the 2 count, and Lad shouts for the tag.
Gooey tries to whip Juan into his corner, but Juan reverses the whip and makes a break back to his own corner. Lad is tagged in, but Gooey has also made a tag and as Lad tries to get in the first attack, Jonny Spade lets him come to him and then performs a tornado DDT using the nearby ropes. Jonny holds on and makes it a Tornado trio; Lad is dazed and Jonny pins, but the lure of gold is strong and Lad somehow kicks out.
The match pivots around as Juan distracts the referee and Lad hits a low blow; the crowd is incensed, but it lets Lad perform his Springboard Twisting Corkscrew Moonsault and the referee turns back to count, 1….2…- Jonny kicks out, and Lad curses. Juan tries his trick again and Lad once again tries to cheat – but this time Jonny counters into a powerbomb, holds on and stands… and Juan inadvertently helps out his opponents as Gooey ascends to the turnbuckle top and leaps off, knocking the elevated Lad flying with a huge clothesline for the Goodwill Gadget. The crowd roars, and Gooey slides out with expert timing as Jonny grabs Lad; the referee is watching as Jonny nails the Silver Spade (Crossbody hold to Rock Bottom). Lad’s taken as much as he can, and Gooey cuts off Juan from intercepting as the pin is counted 1,2,3. The fans are delighted; Lad and Juan want to hand out some more pain but Wyldcard really have seen it all before, and beat a nifty retreat to celebrate their success backstage.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 16:59:20 GMT -5
Segment: I Believe Explanations Are In Order? (Credit: Latino)
The scene opens up to the ACW hallways where Latino’s now famous fan is shown walking through the hallway. A small amount of boos are heard from the arena audience as they certainly remember what happened last show. Suddenly rapid footsteps are heard and the Fan looks back. A look of shock forms over his face and he starts to run but the familiar fan of his hero grabs him by the back of his collar. Latino pulls him back roughly and quickly pulls him so that he is face to face with himself.
Latino: Oh no, no. Mira little chico. You come here conmigo.
The Fan: But…but..
Latino starts dragging him into the nearest room and he throws him against a chair. The fan stands back up as he is unsure what to do now in this situation. He knows what has brought on this event and now has the feeling as if he’s dug himself in a deep, deep hole.
Latino: Callate la boca! You and I need to have a little talk….or fuck no it’s going to be a big talk.
Sientate!
The Latin wrestler pushes his Fan down onto the chair with a loud thud to go along with it. He looks up at his idol as Latino starts pacing around the room as he runs his hand through his hair. He mutters away in Spanish while the Fan just watches him unsure just what the hell he is saying.
Latino: Mira este chico molestando mi toda semana…
The Fan: I don’t know Spanish….
Latino: ….y para que? QUE!?
The Fan: Umm…I have no idea what you just said…
Latino’s eyes bulge out as he is not really listening at all to what the Fan just said. He merely can respond in one phrase….
Latino: Callate!
The Fan: Oh…um ok.
Latino: Ahora…..I mean….Now. I’ll try to say this as nicely as possible.
Latino fakes a smile full of pearly white teeth. He can feel his temper getting a little out of control and now tries to calm himself down even it it’s with a fake gesture of kindness.
Latino: See, I’m even smiling. Now, why were you out in my match distracting me?
The Fan: That wasn’t me.
Latino: Aye, Dios mios. Yes, it was.
The Fan: No, it wasn’t.
Latino: Chico, I saw your face. You even waved at me with that stupid grin of yours.
The Fan: I-I….
Latino: You what?
The Fan: I didn’t want you to win after the way you yelled at me before the match.
Latino: Oh, oh I see. This is all because I said you couldn’t wrestle in a match together? Tambien, tambien.
Latino starts walking around the room again and then stops as he gets an idea. He walks back to the Fan still sitting in the chair.
Latino: How about this pendejo. How about you ask me your question again?
Latino leans forward with another feign look of interest. He cups his ear in true Hogan style as he patiently waits for an answer.
The Fan: Ummm…will you…
Latino: Louder muchacho I can’t hear it.
The Fan: Will you wrestle with me in a match?
Latino (in a sarcastic tone): Oh that’s what all you wanted? How about….no!
Mira chico, I will never….ever wrestle a match with you. I appreciate that you’re a fan of me pero no. Ok?
Latino starts to leave the room as he grabs the doorknob he looks back as he wants to say one more thing before he leaves.
Latino: Hey chico, remember what I said. No match and don’t be showing up during my matches again.
The door closes as the room starts to darken and the Fan is left alone to his own thoughts….
* fade to black *
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 17:00:54 GMT -5
Segment: Are You Adequately Sturdy? (Credit: Nick D)
Tonight on ACW’s Adequately Sturdy...
NARRATOR Tonight, the current prodigies of ACW get to meet some very special guests. Also, tensions flare as Jamie voice his sexist ideas in wrestling once more, and even goes above and beyond his usual behavior...
The scene cuts to the ACW Adequately Sturdy contestants performing their training regiment and we see the current number of five students. They are as follows...
Jamie – A blonde headed, green eyed jerk who believes he’ll be god’s gift to wrestling. Big guy, good charisma, but lacks any in-ring skill, showmanship, or for that matter, technical prowess. Think a shorter Brock Lesnar with Christian’s hair. Currently doing reps. Is such a fan of Starkweather, the rest of the group ask him what Stark’s genitalia taste like (cause he’s always on his...well you get the idea).
Charlie – A young piece of spit who swears to be from New York. He’s got dark brown hair, military cut and very lean. Wants to learn how many armbars Chris Jericho knows the hard way. Lacks charisma, but very great in-ring skill and showmanship. Technical prowess is growing. Currently doing one-handed pushups and other warm-ups. A fan of Kudo Yasuda, BK London, and Chance Emmerson.
Marlene – College student with a knife-edge chop rivaling Bob Holly, oddly enough. Nearly six foot, and tough as nails, but Diva material. Dark red hair that’s constantly gelled and brown eyes. As well as being pretty well rounded, Marlene has powerbombed Jamie (Which caught the surprise of everyone). Currently doing bumps. She’s a fan of, to name a few: Yoko, Latino, AK, and Dan White. She has stated that given the chance, she’d break Rena Matheson’s neck.
Germaine D. – Former college football player, wanting to see how well he can do in wrestling. From Brick City. Almost as strong as Jamie, as proven when they like to get at it, but then again, everyone gets at it with Jamie. Has a handle on doing very advanced wrestling moves, but often makes himself look weak with even the most basic of maneuvers. The first time he tried a knife-edge chop, he ended up over-recoiling his hand and chopped himself down. Currently giving bumps to Marlene. Think a taller D-Lo Brown with braids. He’s a fan of Scott Andrews and Brimstone.
Mai – Japanese-Russian girl, who moved to the U.S. as an eleven year old. Has particular grappling skills that never fail to impress. Her major plan is to get into ROH and use her favorite maneuver, the Osaka Street Cutter, but rename it, in honor of her favorite wrestler Bam Bam Bigelow, “Greetings from Red Square”. Pale girl, more of an Asian look than Russian, with bright blue eyes, and very black, shoulder length hair. Could very well be a Diva-version of Mr. Kennedy with her charisma. Also thinks Adrian Flamingo is the sexiest guy she’s ever seen. Ever. She thinks also, that Rattlesnake is under-rated (like how fans thought Benoit deserved a heavyweight title shot. Yeah, THAT level of fan-love).
The students all take their seats, each one sitting on a different chair of an ACW event, all of them wearing gray sweats with the ACW logo as they sit in a row in front of the ring, wondering what’s going to take place for today’s training regiment, as head trainer head trainer Tim Dwight holds out a clipboard with a smile. The camera zooms to him.
“TEXTBOOK” TIM DWIGHT Alright, so today I wanted to let you guys meet a wrestler who has been at this business his whole life. To be exact, his whole life has been wrestling. We’re going to let you get into the ring with him, after you’ve asked them whatever questions you want to.
The scene cuts to one of those “confessional” segments so prevalent in every reality show.
~~~~~~~~~~
GERMAINE So we’re all sitting there and we’re wondering like, “Who is this going to be?” you know? Like is it going to be Jake Cheng? Is it going to be Vladimir Rasputin? I know Mai was praying it was going to be Adrian Flamingo. And suddenly, we hear the door open and it’s like...Wow.
~~~~~~~~~~
Opening the door is none other then Nick Durden. “Survive” by Rise Against plays as he walks in from the back doors and slides into the ring.
~~~~~~~~~~
CHARLIE When I saw Nick Durden...When I saw him come through that door. It was just a shock. I knew this was going to be great...
JAMIE To be honest, I was thinking...Who the fuck is this guy?
~~~~~~~~~~
DWIGHT Okay, Nick, thank you for being here. So as you guys know, this is Nick Durden. Feel free to ask him anything before we get in the ring with him. Today we’re going learning finishing moves.
Jamie smirks slowly, and rubs his hands together, and just like any stereotypical reality show jerk, bides his time. Germaine raises his hand as Nick points to him.
GERMAINE My name is Germaine. I want to know...how bad is it...to lose? Like, what I mean is, when you lose, how do you guys take it? How do you guys feel?
Nick leans on the ropes and thinks. The camera leans on him.
NICK Alright, I’m going to give you guys some advice that I have seem to have forgotten quite recently. That being: kill your ego. The more you keep an ego when you’re wrestling, the more you’re always going to take a horrible loss, the more you’re always going to feel like, “Phfft, I can take this guy, he’s pathetic, he isn’t shit, I’ll eat him alive.” Then you get beaten, and where are you then?
When you make that mistake, you get to thinking like, “Well, was this supposed to happen?”
A lot of wrestlers will tell you, no loss is worse; no loss stings more then when you think you’re going to totally annihilate somebody, only to be upset. So you should kill your ego. Now a lot of wrestlers, when they get their gold, their ego inflates. They start feeling like they are somewhere. They are, don’t get me wrong, but they can’t help when their ego finds a little growth. Myself included.
So to you guys, I’m giving you that advice right now. If you have no cockiness, or at least, you know WHEN to be cocky, you will never feel bad when you take your losses. I remember losing my first ever match. God it was horrible. My opponent wrapped a chair around my head to the point of which I had to get fifteen stitches, then followed up by spearing me into a table propped up ahead of a chair propped into a turnbuckle.
But...even though I lost, I was fine with it. I had no ego. I mean, I was proud of myself for even being in a match, don’t get me wrong, but the idea of looking at my opponent, snorting and saying “Pfft, I’ll eat him like roast lamb” never occurred to me.
So that’s my advice on losses. It sucks to lose, yeah, but if you kill your ego a little, the pain is dulled, the blow is softened. Try your hardest...ESPECIALLY, when you have a title. Except the top title. Then I guess, you’ve earned a little gloating. But Chance Emmerson is another subject, for another day.
The group looks at one another and begins nodding slowly, again with the exception of Jamie, who feels he’s too good for this crap...Jamie raises his hand as he sneers softly, and the other students look away to avert from a possible melt down of the trainers.
~~~~~~~~~~
JAMIE You know, like, what the hell was he telling us? I mean, for small, pathetic guys like him, that’s fine, but big wrestlers, big tough guys don’t need that type of crap. So I felt like I had to embarrass this guy, and for that matter Marlene. She thought it was funny that she powerbombed ME.
MAI I knew Jamie was going to say something stupid again, but I really didn’t expect what would go down.
~~~~~~~~~~
JAMIE Yeah, all I really wanna ask is why is it that smaller wrestlers and female wrestlers don’t take so many stiff shots. I mean, I see a guy like Rattlesnake take blows as hell, but he’s got almost 80 pounds on you. A little guy like you...I just don’t see you completely beating a guy like him.
~~~~~~~~~~
CHARLIE I just wanted to get up and walk away right then and there.
~~~~~~~~~~
The students look around, almost fearfully as Nick just stares from the ring to down where the students sit. Dwight is about to open his mouth to reprimand Jamie, but Nick raises his hand up.
NICK Get your chair and come in this ring then.
Jamie steps in the ring and holds onto the chair, looking at Nick in confusion, though he still feels like he’s accomplished something, getting The Gambler’s guff.
NICK Stiff shot me with that chair as hard as you can.
Dwight says nothing...not a word, not a sound, not a facial expression. Jamie laughs, shaking his head while the other students watch in shock.
~~~~~~~~~~
GERMAINE: Was he...serious?
~~~~~~~~~~
Jamie raises the chair, the big guy that he is, and wallops Nick with the chair, right over the Great Gaijin’s skull. It resounds throughout the gym, and Nick pats his forehead...no blood. Nick slaps the taste from Jamie’s mouth.
NICK This isn’t a goddamn after-school special! Bust my head in.
Jamie raises the chair up and wallops Nick again. This time there’s blood. Yet Nick is still standing. He slaps Jamie, after the trainee grins, almost proud of his accomplishment.
NICK You call this talent? You consider this something to be proud of? Get your shit together, or get the fuck out of this ring and leave it to people who actually care to learn our sweet art.
Jamie’s face gets riled, and he chairshots Nick once...twice...three times...four times. Nick drops to his knee after the third time, but raises his head as the fourth comes down, basically driving his head into the force of Jamie’s swing.
NICK That’s it? That’s it? Give me that damn chair.
Nick wrenches the chair from Jamie’s grasp then drops it on the ground...Followed by kicking Jamie in the gut with a toe-kick and proceeding with an implant DDT. Jamie’s face is busted open in one shot. Nick lets go of him and steps off.
NICK What did I just get through telling you? Do not...ever...count anyone out. You do that, and you lose. If you’re not smart enough, intelligent enough to know, to watch every opponent, you’re gonna have a problem. Any small wrestler can beat you as long as he’s watching you. Rightly done, any wrestler can beat any wrestler. It’s just a matter of the mental game.
You don’t get that, and you don’t win...
You think I don’t watch Brimstone? I make Brimstone my business. Everyone thinks just ‘cause I haven’t fought him yet that I won’t beat all that is holy out of them.
I once read that Brimstone hates that people look at him like trash. He hates the fact that society looks down on the unnoticed.
But I’m not looking down on him. Quite the contrary in fact. I’m watching Brimstone. I’m watching everything about him. It’s like a case in study. You wanna beat a man, you watch him. You learn everything about him you can learn...
What have I learned...?
What have I learned...?
He can out-brawl me. He can out-power me. He can’t out-fly me. He can’t out-grapple me. He has a withdrawal...only a concept of what or who he really is “The Angel of Death”?
But I know who I am: sick in the head. Without an ego. A constant mentality that I have nothing to lose.
Lemme tell you guys, if Gingerdude, right now came through that door and offered me a match...a handicap match 4-on-2. Hell, put the match to 4-on-1, I’d take it in a heartbeat.
I’d grab a shopping cart, a stop sign, hell, I’d wheel a dumpster down to the ring, and go buck wild. I feel no shame to fight anyone. I love the fight. I love the challenge, and Brimstone...I see him like a wall...the very opposite of my existence.
Life is anarchy. The world itself is anarchy. There is no religion in it. Yet you have people who try to make it so, who try to make religion out of everything. When people try to make religion out of nothing, they complicate everything. They prove that they need something to believe in to sanctify and freshen their souls day by day.
When those of us with normal wills only use religion as a guide, a concept not to lead our lives by, but consider our problems...but enough on the Emo-set.
To all of you students sitting here, I ask you. What will your finishing moves be? What will you have in you repertoire of wrestling moves that simply exists as your exclamation point?
CHARLIE I’m going to use a Powerbomb into a Facebuster.
MARLENE The Cyclone, but dropping my opponent on ring-ropes, on their back.
NICK Well isn’t she a little spitfire. How about you?
MAI Osaka Street Cutter, named “Greetings From Red Square.”
GERMAINE Double Axe-Handle Uppercut. I’ll call it “The Percolator.”
Nick turns to Jamie, who’s been sitting in the middle of the ring for some time, as Jamie stares daggers into Nick for being beaten like that.
NICK And you...?
JAMIE A pumphandle into a sitout reverse piledriver. I’m calling it “Last Impact.”
NICK Feeling like you wanna try that on me, big man?
Jamie nods slowly, before walking up and standing on the second ring rope. Nick silently walks over, turns his back on Jamie, who roughly lifts Nick up in a pumphandle but before he drop down and complete the piledriver, The Boom wriggles out of his grasp and lands behind Jamie. By the time Jamie turns around, he’s helpless as the vicious torrent of blows that comprise The Deluge rain down upon him. Immediately upon impact of the concluding mule kick, Jamie collapses to the mat in a flaccid heap. As he dusts himself off, Nick clears his throat.
NICK Fear no one. Ever. Every person who comes to tussle with you, you look them in the eye, and you don’t show them your back. Get it up and get ready for the rough, the ready, the rumble. Now come on, we wanna see what you guys got, one by one, you’ll perform your finishing moves on us. We won’t counter them, we just wanna see how you guys follow through. Come on!
Nick claps his hands as the students begin getting up and going through their motions, and we cut to commercial.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 17:05:19 GMT -5
Segment: ....Two Tag Team Titles? (Credit: BK/Jake/Jonny/Gooey)
As we return back to the show from commercials, the ACW cameras are once again graced by the winners of the match - Wyldcard. They appear to be only a bit exhausted after their match, but they possess their custom made ACW Tag Team Championships over their shoulder. They continue walking down the corridor in a rather playful mood, laughing it up and celebrating their win - and suddenly all that comes to a complete stop. The team of Top Draw walks on screen with their championships over their shoulder, and now the team of Wyldcard throws their championships over their shoulders for a much interesting staredown.
BK lightly claps.
BK: Congratulations, you two managed to defeat Team Retard...proud of yourselves?
Jake: And in the process, they manage to bring back their crap pieces of tin foil and leather they call belts. Where did you make that? Arts and crafts?
BK: Get this right, WE - are the only ACW Tag Team Champions in ACW. WE are the only tag team who deserve to hold the belts in this company, and we're going to show you that by defeating that Sagat impersonator and Pussweather.
Jonny and Gooey both look at each other and then back at them both and start to overly laugh at BK and Jake. Top Draw's expressions turn from ones of pure confidence to complete anger as they watch the "ACW Tag Team Champions" ridiculing them.
Jonny: HAHAHA, real original there BK with the insults there. You’ve been practicing haven’t you? I can tell. Your insults are getting better. Practice more and get back to me when you have something worthwhile to say to us.
Gooey: Oh, and Jake. Nice try with your jokes there, At least we were able to get ACW belts and not have to go back to belts that were part of a fed that had died over 2 something years ago. Come on guys, get with the times. Aren't you two a little old to be playing treasure hunter? Seeking gold from lost forgotten cities.
Jonny: But I guess it is pretty appropriate. Fools and their fools gold. So I'll tell you what, come back to us anytime you want a good smack back to reality.
Jonny cracks his knuckles
Gooey: Because reality is, we're that much more of tag champs than you are an old run of the mill tag team. We get more reaction than you two jacking off a bull elephant in a public zoo.
BK: You think that's the reaction we get? This is what I want you to do tonight: Turn off the video games or porn or whatever helps you two pleasure yourselves, and take a look at a REAL tag team tonight. A MAIN EVENTING TAG TEAM who will defeat not only the former International Champion, but the World Championship - a belt none of you have EVER held before.
Jake: Oh, don't worry about a smart ass retort Gooey. See, you're Canadian, you don't count.
The two laugh it up, as Wyldcard continues to stare at them - not impressed at all in what they call "humor".
BK: We've got a match to get ready for, so we'll be making our exit. We'll see you CHUMPS on the flipside.
The pair both walk off camera past Gooey and Jonny, leaving them a bit angered.
Jonny: Forget it, Gooey, lets just go. I remembered I left the Wii running.
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Mar 8, 2007 17:05:49 GMT -5
Segment: …and The Future? (Credit: Jefferson)
We open to a wide-angled shot of a section of road, it is very uninteresting with little more than shrubbery and trees on either side. The shot begins to move, following the road to the point where it is bisected by another. Here we see Jack Jefferson leaning on a signpost, looking entirely unimpressed by the location.
Jefferson: I was once told that visual metaphors have a powerful effect so here I am, and as you can tell…they were wrong.
Jefferson sighs and stands himself up, pushing off the signpost.
Jefferson: If you hadn’t already guessed, this location is supposed to represent the fact that I’m at a crossroads in my career.
Jefferson (muttering to self): The bloody material I have to put up with, someone is getting hospitalized for this!
Jefferson: The big question I keep getting asked is “Are you staying with Fallout or are you going to ACW?!” and do you know what? I’m sick of hearing about it! I wi--
Jefferson is cut off by the noise of a mobile phone ringing and looks extremely unhappy about it, that is until he realises it’s his phone that is doing the ringing. He reaches into his pocket to fish it out and upon reading the display he turns to the camera.
Jefferson: I’m going to have to take this.
Jefferson flips the phone open and raises it to his ear.
Jefferson: Hey Andrew, look I’m a little bit--
…
Jefferson: Yes, I got the contracts but I’m going to have to--
…
Jefferson: Yes…We’ll talk about it later Andrew, I’m a little tied up right now!
…
Jefferson: No, I’m not having sex! I’m filming a promo for ACW. You should know this, you’re my agent for fuck’s sake!
…
Jefferson: Yes, that’s right that is today!
…
Jefferson: Look, just shut up, I’ll call you back when I’m done.
Jefferson hangs up the call and turns off his phone before shoving it back in his pocket.
Jefferson (talking to cameraman): We can edit that out later, right?
The picture moves up and down, signifying that the cameraman is nodding.
Jefferson: …good.
Jefferson: Right, now where was I? Oh yes, the whole “Fallout/ACW, where does your future lie” thing. Well, I’m sick and tired of talking about it! Everywhere I go I get asked “Fallout or ACW, where are you going?!” and it’s getting a little tired. I will announce my decision when I’m good and ready, and not a moment sooner!
Jefferson: Anyway, onto more pressing matters…Fallout gold. That’s right…the Fallout TV Title which should still be in my possession! Curtis didn’t even deserve a shot against me, his record is pitiful! Before that match he’d beaten Jeffery Janson and Hugh Daniels, two nobodies! Therefor--
Cameraman: Er…didn’t he beat…you know…you?
Jefferson: That was a fluke! I beat him twice so that nullifies that point! The fact is, Curtis didn’t deserve his shot and in any case, he cheated to win. Using a table to gain a victory isn’t very sporting is it?
Stifled laughter can be heard coming from the crew who are evidently amused by the irony of Jack Jefferson debasing someone for cheating. Jefferson shoots them a cold look before continuing.
Jefferson: Still, worthiness aside, the fact of the matter is, I’m guaranteed a rematch for that title. So, if I choose to stay on Fallout I will do so as a champion, and if I decide to join the ranks of ACW I will do so…as a champion!
Jefferson stares intently into the camera, making the “Going for Gold” gesture by moving his hands across his waist.
Fade to Black.
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