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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:48:48 GMT -5
Thursday Night Meltdown 5th April 2007
Schedule of Matches: ------------------------------------------
Jay Basin vs. "The Saint" James Lee
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Rattlesnake vs. Jake Cheng
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Brimstone vs. Jack Jefferson
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Wyldcard vs Latino and Alicia Kitsune
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ACW Entertainment Title Match Thunderkiss vs Jay Zero
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BK London vs Starkweather
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:49:27 GMT -5
Meltdown opens up in its usual style, with panning and pyro and a whole lot of excitable fans. Let’s get this show underway before they burst, shall we?....
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:51:01 GMT -5
Segment: Alterior Motives (Credit: Jake Cheng and Dan White)
So, there he is, Jake Cheng, doing a unique match warm up for the most difficult match he has had in a while, with Rattlesnake. He is doing upside down situps, using his legs to hang from a bar on the ceiling. People walk by and watch Jake warm up in the middle of the backstage area. One person even has the balls to punch Jake in the stomach as he is coming down.
And Jake drops like a sack of bricks. He legs unfold and his arms drop to the ground and he catches himself. He props himself back up and is ready to get in the face of whoever punched him. He gets in the face of Dan White. The two rivals give each other the stare-down. But it doesn’t last long as the two break out laughing and shake hands.
Jake: Long time no see.
Dan: Indeed, my Asian friend. So I see the Corporate Alliance is in full swing. I joke. It's shrunk a bit since I made my grand exit, hasn't it?
Jake: Heh, yeah. Now it’s just back to Top Draw.
Dan: ..And that'll last what, about a week?
Jake gets a weird look on his face.
Jake: What do you mean?
Dan: Don't be a fool Jake. I've been to Hollywood, I've recorded at Abbey Road. I know the business and I know the kind of people that BK are. And you know him more than any of us. He only ever uses people for personal gain. Look at Chairman Gingerdude when he first won the belt....Okay I'm lacking examples, but that's because I've noticed a damn sweet ass over there....
He looks at Jake, who's shaking in head in a mixture of confusion and annoyance
Dan: ...but Jake, it's just a matter of time before he uses you. You catch my drift?
Jake: Dan, BK and I watch each other’s backs. It’s not using each other. Like when you and....and that other guy were in a tag........mustache or something like that.
Dan: Mestarruus.
Jake: God bless you.
Dan rolls his eyes.
Dan: I’m just warning you Cheng. Unlike BK, I got your back.
Jake: Alright Dan.
They shake hands again as the segment ends with that shot. Is Dan correct? Does Dan know of something Jake doesn’t? How would he? Is it the end of the world as we know it?
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:51:48 GMT -5
The Saint meets The Devil Credit: Jay Basin We find ourselves backstage with ACW Reporter Charollete King and Jay Basin. Miss King is wearing a rather short dress tonight, and has her long, beautiful blonde hair draped over her left shoulder. Jay Basin is in his ring gear, preparing for his match against James Lee, and is covering his Adonis-like body with his new ACW Brand shirt, which has a skull in the middle of it, and it says on the top “TILL DEATH” and on the bottom it says “DO YOU PART.” King, unlike Kevin “The Scoop” Jackson, King doesn’t mind being close to Jay.“Ladies, and gentleman, I present to you Jay Basin.”The crowd boos after King talks and Basin lifts his head up. He looks from his right to his left. He shakes his head in disappointment and looks at Charollete.“Now Jay, tonight you face James Lee, ‘ACW’s Personal Saint,’ but let’s first go back to…”Jay cuts King off by sticking his hand over her mouth. He looks at King’s eyes, as if he’s trying to say something real important.“Let’s stay focused on this match at hand. I don’t care what happened last week, when I made my earth-shattering impact on Meltdown, or what happened last night when I could have knocked someone up, I care about the present, because the present is now, and I can’t change what’s in the past, so I can only do these things once.”Jay looks downward and pulls out a pamphlet. He looks back at the camera.“James Lee says that he can save people. Now I read this pamphlet before, not because I had to or anything, but because this was in Chet’s coat pocket. It’s an Alcoholics Anonymous pamphlet. I looked it over, and I saw some interesting facts and statistics. I think these guys can really help some people out. Hmmm.”Basin stuffs the pamphlet back in his pant pocket and pulls out a small card. It has a yellow ribbon on it.“There once was a kid who commited suicide. His parents were devastated over the fact that they lost their son. Their offspring. Their precious child. So devastated that it motivated them to help other people not to commit suicide by opening a hotline. So if anyone were to have this card with a yellow ribbon, and felt like nothing was left to live for, then they should call the hotline. They can help.”A real tear rises from Jay’s eyes and he puts the card away. He takes a sheet of paper from his other pant pocket. The piece of paper is folded in half, and is a sheet of line paper.“Do you have a fire or a thief in your house? Is there fight going on in your house?”Basin unfolds the paper it reads “911.”“They can help you! They have the right tools for what’s needed!”Basin rips the paper in half and drops the pieces of paper to the floor.“James Lee is a Saint. He believes that he can save people. He believes he can help people. Well James, let me ask you something. Do you think I want your help? Do you think I’m going to need to be saved? If you’re smart like me, then we both know the answer. NO. You’re good-hearted bastard, and good-hearted, nice guys always finish last! DEAD LAST!”The crowd boos Basin, as his face twitches a little bit.“Being nice, kind, and good-hearted won’t get you far. You’re a saint, and I’m the goddamn, fucking devil! I’m not just going to beat you kid. I’m going to demolish you. There’s a line that separates the two, and kid, I’m going to go far beyond the limit of Demolish. I’m the representative of Hardcore! I am the soul of destruction! I am The Root of All Evil! And no man, woman, or God can help you, good Saint, because this is business, and business is tough!”The crowd boos Basin, as he has his game-time look on.“You should stop caring for others like I have. You shouldn’t care about saving others when you have yourself to save…”It's silent for a moment...“You and I James are different. We are different in all aspects, and we will never be the same. You’re a Saint, and I am a Sinner. You’re for the cross, and I’m for Skulls, crosses, and bones. You are good, and I am evil. You are humble, and I am greatness. I am coming… and you’re going down.”Basin puts his hand over the camera and the camera fades into black.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:52:35 GMT -5
Closure, Wonderful Closure (credit: Marcus Curtis)
We cut to some handheld camera footage, the footage is clearly pre recorded as it is being filmed in front of the ACW Arena in daylight. Stood in front of the camera is Marcus Curtis, he is attired in a drab olive green hooded top and a pair of faded brown combat trousers, he looks over his shoulder at the ACW Arena. ACW Staff are pouring into the arena in preparation for tonight’s show. The cameraman tries to walk away but is dragged back by Curtis.
Curtis: You come back here you son of a bitch. Are you getting this?
The camera nods at Curtis whose expression is laced with resentment and anger.
Curtis: Jack Jefferson…First things first, remember when you and your buddy broke into my home and stole one of my most treasured possessions? Well I tracked down your amateur cameraman buddy and you’re witnessing his handiwork, come on show your friend you face.
The camera turns to show the bloody and bruised face of the cameraman, he has dark purple bruises around each of his eyes; blood is trickling from his nose and he has dried blood around the gash in his upper lip.
Curtis: Ok bring the camera back on me.
The camera turns back around to Curtis.
Curtis: You see Jefferson…You seem to have forgotten where I’m from…You forget where I grew up…To refresh your memory, I’m a Jersey boy. And we do things differently in Jersey, you my think growing up in Mosside, Manchester was hard, well you ain’t got nothing on me. Little unknown fact is that I was part of a gang, it’s part of my upbringing that I’ve never been particularly proud of and thus I’ve not embraced. Until now. You see Jefferson…You’ve awoken the Jersey boy in me…You’ve awoken a sense if violence and brutality I haven’t felt in years. What I’ve done to your friend is the tip of the iceberg in comparison to the beating I’ll give you. Now things are different, it’s not about good versus evil, it’s not about the fans or the TV Title, it all comes down me and you, Curtis and Jefferson. I was asked by Biff to think up a match for us to end things in. And I’ve been racking my brains trying to think of a suitable outcome. And then it dawned on me…How did they settle things back in the day?...The days before Ultimate X, Elimination Chamber and other gimmicked matches. When two people had an issue to settle they went one on one, in a steel cage. I’m taking it to the old school, the match is signed and all that I need is for you to be there for this one off Fallout presentation.
Curtis checks his wrist watch and looks back at the camera.
Curtis: Well unfortunately, your friend and I have an appointment with some of my friends who are just over there.
Curtis points out of shot. The camera moves to show what appears to be a street gang, some of whom are armed with wooden baseball bats and some even have slapjacks (pieces of lead or stone in a sock that they hit people with.) Suddenly the camera drops and we hear running, the gang realise the camera man is running away and chase after him, we then hear a loud shriek and then the sound of a heavy beating off camera as we cut back to the regular ACW broadcast.
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:54:10 GMT -5
Match 1: Jay Basin vs. "The Saint" James Lee (Credit: Marcus Curtis)
The match starts with some Basin dominance after Lee tries a mid ring lock up but is over powered. Basin hits him with some hard clubbing blows to the back. He hits Lee with a hard scoop slam before dropping a knee drop to the head and attempting a cover that Lee kicks out of after 1. He whips Lee off the ropes and hoists him up for a Military Press, he holds Lee up for a good few seconds but Lee manages to escape by sliding behind Basin, he delivers a drop kick to the knee and begins to use his technical prowess to start controlling the pace of the match. He manages to lock a Standing Figure Four Leg Lock on Basin as he continues to work on the legs of his larger opponent. Basin manages to reach the ropes and forces a break from Lee. As Basin holds onto his leg in pain as Lee formulates a strategy before resuming control over Basin.
Lee gets too comfortable and lets Basin get a sniff of changing the momentum which he does by hitting a hard spinebuster. Basin then hits a series of clotheslines before whipping Lee off the ropes and executing a perfect Military Press. He stalks Lee, who stumbles to his feet, before connecting with a Yakuza Kick right to the temple. Lee crumples to the floor in a heap. Basin covers Lee but only gets a 2 count. Basin picks up Lee and lifts him up for the Basin Slam, Lee manages to slide down from Basin’s shoulders , he waits for Basin to turn around before attempting to hit a brainbuster, he struggles to lift Basin who hits Lee hits a knee to the mid-section that doubles him over, he then picks up Lee for the Basin Slam and executes it perfectly, applying massive amounts of torque and velocity as he slams down Lee. He covers Lee cockily as the referee makes the 3 count.
Your winner by pinfall….Jay Basin.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:54:31 GMT -5
Segment: Plan? What Plan? (Credit: BK)
As the scene fades in from black, we are immediately graced by the presence of one BK London - who gets a bit of a pop from the crowd. Sure some of the things that he has said or done in the past month have been quite questionable to say the least, but the fans respect him knowing that BK is just being himself and he doesn't promise any allegiance to being a heel or a face.
But rather than preparing for his big one on one singles match against Starkweather, he appears to be talking on the phone to someone - who, we'll find out soon enough.
BK: Yeah baby, do you have your stuff packed just in case you have to fly to the hospital quickly? I mean the baby could come at any time, you should be at least prepared....mhmmm...yeahh....great!
You can continue hearing the murming over the phone as he begins to fiddle with his fingers. He leans back in his chair and continues to talk obviously to his pregnant wife Kiley on the phone.
BK: Oh, so you got your subscription of ACW Power Pulse huh?.....I know right, not even ONE article about me.......yeah, I'd like to settle his hash too!
Just as he finishes that sentence, his partner Jake Cheng makes his way in the locker room with his in ring gear on because of his huge match tonight against fellow Fallen Heroes competitor, Rattlesnake.
BK: Alright baby, I'll talk to you later - Jake's here and he doesn't look happy....I love you too.
And with that, BK closes his phone and rises up from his seat to meet Jake Cheng.
BK: Jakey boy, what's the problem? You're in the Fallen Heroes Battle Royale with me man, there should be no problem at all.
Jake: No problem? That asshole Gingerdude booked me in a match against that schizo-freak Rattlesnake or Cobra or Arbok or whoever the hell he goes by now! How could I have no problems?
BK throws his arm over Jake's shoulder and pulls him closer.
BK: Listen Jake, don't worry about Rattlesnake tonight. If anything, I know you can pull out a win against him - he's not in the right frame of mind - you can quickly just roll him up or something. What you need to be focused on is the Fallen Heroes Battle Royale at the end of month...all the matches leading up to it, they don't count. It's like, ummm...well I have no analogy for this, but just don't worry about anything until the battle royale.
Jake: And you sure this plan at the Battle Royale will work?
BK: Am I sure? Listen...trust me man, it's the best plan ever. Now go continue getting ready for your match, I have to start getting ready for mine tonight.
Jake: ...alright.
Jake seems a little hesitant about this "plan" BK is discussing as he exits the locker room, but BK seems to be the total opposite as he stands with a huge kool-aid smile on his face. What could be this "plan" he has for the Fallen Heroes Battle Royale? And what could it mean for the other 28 combatants?
Fade Out
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:55:52 GMT -5
Segment: Money for Nothing, Lucy White for Free (Credit: Michael)
March 27 12:23 A.M.
INT. – OLYMPIC GARDEN STRIP CLUB
KIRSTEN Now listen, I can't drink. I'm a recovering alcoholic.
NICK It's a strip club, sis. You have to drink. Not drinking...is FORBIDDEN!
KIRSTEN Well I'm sorry but I won't do it.
They take seats. Up on stage, a stripper dances to the tunes of a band behind her. The band looks awfully familiar.
KIRSTEN Dude, that's fucking Dire Straits.
NICK Why are Dire Straits performing in a strip club?
MARK KNOPFLER We needed the money! That little faggot, he's not a millionaire anymore!
KIRSTEN Owned.
NICK Isn't that chick dancing with them familiar?
KIRSTEN No. Never seen her.
NICK I know I've seen her somewhere.
KIRSTEN Probably in the same club twenty years ago. She's kinda old. Kinda really old.
NICK No, I'm sure I've seen her.
KIRSTEN She's not ringing a bell for me. Come on, let's go get a drink.
Kirsten drags Nick away from the stage to the bar. Kirsten waves to the bartender.
KIRSTEN I'll have six White Russians.
NICK Aren't you an alcoholic?
KIRSTEN Like you said when this all started, we're in motherfuckin' Vegas, man.
NICK In that case, give me a mixture of the hardest liquor you've got back there.
BARTENDER Six White Russians and Metal Hammer coming up.
KIRSTEN Metal Hammer?
BARTENDER I don't know, it just sounds powerful.
Kirsten and Nick sit down on the stools as the bartender leaves to make the drinks.
KIRSTEN Do you think I'll ever find true love?
NICK Dude...no.
The bartender returns.
BARTENDER Ok, here you go. Now I've been listening and all I can say is...you're in Vegas. Hook up with that stripper up there if you're that desperate.
Kirsten nods. Suddenly, Nick snaps his fingers.
NICK I've got it! Dude, that's fucking Lucy White!
KIRSTEN Dan's mom? No. Come on. No way. Bullshit.
NICK You wanna bet on it?
KIRSTEN Fine.
Kirsten grabs two White Russians in both hands and downs both at once entirely. Slamming the glasses on the bar, she pulls off her shiny power ring and holds it up.
KIRSTEN This ring says that's some other old whore.
NICK Awesome. Hey, Lucy! Lucy White!
The old stripper looks over at the bar.
LUCY What?
KIRSTEN That um...that doesn't count. She's Dan's mom. I meant Lucy White Smith from City Council. She ran in '93 out in Oakland. You probably didn't hear about it.
NICK Cough up the ring bitch.
KIRSTEN NEVER!
Kirsten jumps out of her seat, grabs the last four White Russians, drinks them all, and begins to run. Nick chases after her.
I want my MTV... I want my...
The drum breakdown kicks in, and Kirsten dashes out of the bar. We get a close-up of Dire Straits playing, then Lucy White rises up onto the screen. She dances for a second before ripping off her bra. We immediately cut to Kirsten and Nick running again.
Now look at them yo-yo's that's the way you do it You play the guitar on the MTV That ain't workin' that's the way you do it
Kirsten runs around the corner. Nick chases right behind her. Nick reaches out and nearly grabs Kirsten but only manages to grab her shirt, ripping a piece off in the process.
We gotta install microwave ovens Custom kitchen deliveries
Kirsten runs around another corner, finding a dead end. Nick corners her. However, Kirsten notices a ladder nearby and jumps on it. She nods, smiles, and salutes to Nick before climbing up the ladder quickly into a fire escape.
That little faggot got his own jet airplane That little faggot he’s a millionaire
Nick chases Kirsten up the fire escape. Kirsten finally makes it to the roof and starts to run to the end. Nick follows her up and corners her again.
We gotta move these refrigerators Gotta move these colour TV's
NICK End of the line. Gimme the ring.
KIRSTEN NEVER!
Gotta install microwave ovens Custom kitchen deliveries
Kirsten runs and jumps to other roof. Nick follows and makes a similar leap. He makes it but just barely, giving Kirsten a lead.
I shoulda learned to play the guitar I shoulda learned to play them drums
Nick finally catches up at the final building. Seeing nowhere to run, Kirsten jumps off the roof. She lands unharmed in a roll. Nick starts to climb down as Kirsten runs. Suddenly, Kirsten slips on a puddle. She grabs her knee.
KIRSTEN Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...Tssssssssss...Ahhhhhhhhh...
That ain't workin' that's the way you do it Money for nothin' and your chicks for free Money for nothin' and chicks for free
Nick stands there, waiting for Kirsten to get up. Finally Kirsten recovers from her injured knee and makes a run for it again.
Money for nothin' and your chicks for free
Kirsten suddenly runs out into the street to escape Nick. A car comes bearing down on her. BAM! Kirsten gets hit and falls to the ground. Nick runs over to her and kneels over her body.
NICK WHY DO WE ALWAYS HURT THE ONES WE LOVE?! WHY KIRSTEN?! WHY?! KIRSTEN! KIIIIIIIRSTEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nick pulls the ring off Kirsten's finger and runs off. We zoom in on Kirsten laying battered and broken on the ground.
I want my... I want my MTV...
~To Be Continued~
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:57:53 GMT -5
Segment: Stark Possibilities (Credit: Senator)
As the show returns from the break, none other than ACW World Heavyweight Champion, Senator Steve Phillips is seen entering his office in the ACW Arena, and as he closes the door, the screen switches to the interior of the Senatorial Office, where the Capitalists are standing, as Phillips sits down at his desk.
Anthony Kalb: Hey, good to see you around, boss.
Kevin Fitsharris: Bossman, you're back! I thought that Stark guy just about killed you last week!
The Senator: I am fine, and for the record, it was Monday, of this week...
Kalb: Yeah, Kev, you moron!
Senator: But, you did bring up a topic I was considering running past you two fellows. Perhaps this is a mistake in the first place...but I might as well ask...
Fitsharris: What?
Senator: About Mr. Starkweather's attack. Two questions arise out of it. Why did he decide to jump me, and if not by his own design, who put him up to it? I have my own opinions and theories on the matter, but the more thoughts on the matter, the better.
Kalb: He's just nuts, isn't that obvious? Either that, or it's some political matter, like how you voted on illegal immigration, abortion, or something.
Senator: Sure, that is quite the thoughtful theory. Surely you two can come up with something better than that.
Fitsharris: Ahem, well...I...I got it! That Stark guy clearly is affected by a bias against authority figures, and that comes from his early, formationitive years, when he had Odepal designs on his mother, and hated his father as a result, so then, he sees you as the father figure, and wishes to kill you as a result!
Kalb: The hell?
Senator: I concur with Mr. Kalb on this matter. You made no sense, whatsoever? Is that a filibustering attempt? Have you been taking lessons from Robert Byrd?
Fitsharris: Uh, no, actually, you know, since Fallout's not runnin' shows right now, I'm studying psychology, since you know, all those guys who write about us always talk about how important it is, and, yeah, I'm going back to college to get my major in it!
Kalb: Yeah, at some bogus "internet" university!
Senator: Ok, we all had our laughs here, but this is an important question to ponder. Perhaps neither of you possess the ability to answer it, however.
Fitsharris: Hmm, maybe Ridley's back, and he's behind...
Kalb: You dope, shut your mouth. I dunno, Stark's mostly a loner, maybe he's going to challenge for your title. Going for the Pre-emptive Strike and taking out the champ seems like a nice plan to me.
Senator: You could very well be correct. Something, though, it just seems strange. It could have been revenge from the match a few weeks back or so, too. I have a bit of trouble reading the Doctor's motives, really. Something just did not seem right, something I can not put my finger down upon, something that, while inconsequential, just did not seem right about that setup there. Something was just "off." It could have been that he did not inflict more damage. In the amount of time he had, and with that setup, Starkweather could have taken my head clean off with a weapon, or could have taken me out of the ring to do more egregious harm. Thank God Wyvern made it in time, but Stark had time enough, he was stalling, no doubt. A man like that does not need a great deal of time to inflict grievous injury.
Fitsharris: Yeah, I know, I could have snapped someone in pieces in that time!
Senator: As much as Mr. Kalb might be suppressing his laughter, I think that point is well taken. Stark wanted to make a point, but he wanted to leave me intact. He knew that the Stable would be out to the ring sooner than later, and that he had little time to work with. I am still sore from, well, I am still sore from my title victory, but Starkweather's assault only added more bruises onto that, and onto the match with Yasuda.
Kalb: You got a point?
Senator: Yes, I do, what I am saying is that he wanted to show he could hurt me without weapons, and that he could do so, even if the Stable has my back. Why he decided to attack, well, I have a few ideas on who might have put him up to it, I doubt he was acting completely alone...although I will certainly not rule that case out. I think that Stark has plans for the title, but if he does, it will be long and drawn out. He rarely appears to rush things, preferring to draw out scenarios to take advantage of his ability to work mind games on the opponent. No matter what, however, I will assure you two on this point, I will not be intimidated, and I will not be distracted. When my title match for Fallen Heroes is set, I will pursue the match with every last bit of strength I have. Dr. Starkweather will find that he decided to trifle with the wrong individual, and that, my friends, is nothing...but the truth.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:58:15 GMT -5
Segment: “The Waiting Game” Credit: T-Kiss
[You know, for April, its been pretty damn warm. Hell, by the end of March people all over were sleeping with their windows open and were craving to come out of their caves to bask in the glorious sun. Tonight in ACW land, its no different as we find the Entertainment Champion out of his locker room enjoying the outdoors. In the shadows of the moon, he surveys the arena from afar, perched on the trunk of his limousine. Quiet dominates the area, only to be interrupted from the occasional pops overflowing from the crowd. In fact, one of those very pops can be heard at this very moment. As Kiss ponders what is happening in the arena at this very moment, his eyes catch the headlines of an approaching car. Within seconds, a sporty BMW pulls up besides him, kicking up dust as it screeches its breaks. TK remains in a relaxed position letting us all know this is most certainly an friend or an acquaintance or better yet – a manger. From a rolled down window pops the head of William Charles Wilcox, almost like a signal, for TK immediately peels himself off of his limousine and approaches …]
Thunderkiss: Hey, has Lambert shown yet?
William Wilcox: Not yet.
Thunderkiss: Are you sure?! This guy isn’t the type to turn down an A.C.W contract! Not after what he said last Thursday.
William Wilcox: I have two spotters looking for him Kiss.
Thunderkiss: Yeah, I have a question about these “spotters” … what street corner did you hire them from?
William Wilcox: They are RELIABLE friends Kiss, trust me on this. I know this is very important to you so I wouldn’t sell you short like that.
Thunderkiss: Uh hum. Right. Just like how you didn’t sell me short last month when I asked you to score that movie deal that I wanted so badly.
William Wilcox: Kiss, you’re tearing my heart here.
Thunderkiss *rolling eyes*: Keep it up Willy, and you’ll have this whole car filled with bull shit by the end of the night. Now do me a favor and you get Ross Lambert here .. PRONTO. I don’t care if you have to hire Tony fucking Soprano to drag him here by his dick, I want Ross Lambert in this building … NOW!
William Wilcox: I’ll see what I can do Tee Kay.
Thunderkiss: You do that …
[TK leans back and Wilcox pops the car out of park, into drive, and speeds back towards the arena. Throughout this ruckus, another noise can be heard – that of a car door opening. Out from the limo steps Vivid, looking beautiful as always but concerned instead of carefree. Immediately she cries out to TK, a hint of this very concern cracking in her voice ..]
Vivid: He’s not going to show is he?
Thunderkiss: Patience is a virtue.
Vivid: So is abstinence but we don’t practice that do we?
Thunderkiss: Heh… Cant argue with that logic babe.
Vivid: Well, since nothing is going on, perhaps this would be a good time to talk.
Thunderkiss: ‘Bout what?? You know I hate it when you keep flapping your lips about crap the bores the shit out of me.
Vivid: Well… about me … wrestling.
Thunderkiss: !? You … wrestling?
Vivid: Yes, I have been asked to take part in a match at Fallen Heroes, and I’d really like to –
Thunderkiss *interrupting*: Stop right there. The answer is no.
Vivid: But –
Thunderkiss *inrrupting again*: I’ll have none of it. I told you since day one, your purpose is to simply to make me look good and occasionally allowing me to snort cocaine off your ass. I didn’t bring you in here for a career, woman.
[Vivid looks down for a moment while she chooses her words carefully. A rather large smile finds her face as soon as she does. Displaying this smile to TK in all its glory, she looks up to him and responds ...]
Vivid: Ok. That’s fine. After all, I wouldn’t like it if my “partner”, and I use that term loosely by the way, actually performed better than me in my profession either.
Thunderkiss: ………
Vivid: What, I thought you liked “sassy” girls?!
~!~SLAM~!~
[Vivid slams the car door behind her as she begins to walk to the arena by herself. Thunderkiss doesn’t try to stop her and instead crawls back up onto his limousines trunk and leans back, looking up into the night sky. He mutters the only two words flashing in his mind right now …]
Thunderkiss: bitch…
[As he leans back up against his back window and gazes upon the stars in the sky as we fade out.]
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 15:59:08 GMT -5
Match 2: Rattlesnake vs. Jake Cheng (Credit: BK)
As the bell sounds for the match to begin, the pair of wrestlers step to the center of the ring and the huge height and weight advantage of Rattlesnake is extremely noticeable here. Jake looks to take the big man off his feet quickly in the start of this match with several kicks to his hamstring, but it isn't long before Rattlesnake uses his power to simply toss Jake into the corner with ease. Rattlesnake follows up with a huge clothesline to Jake - knocking pretty much all the wind out of him - before raising him above his head in a Gorilla Press.
Rattlesnake walks around a bit before slamming Jake back first on the mat before going for the cover. Jake manages to get his shoulder up before three, and Rattlesnake is a bit surprised but he loves the challenge as he picks up Jake by his hair and tosses him into the corner. Rattlesnake backs up and he looks for a huge running boot to Jake's face while he is in the corner, but Jake manages to side step it at the last second and Rattlesnake gets his leg caught on the top rope. Jake takes the advantage in this match, delivering several kicks and punches to Rattlesnake before sending him over the top rope to the outside with a huge dropkick.
Rattlesnake rises up quickly as Jake attempts to catch his breath, and he rolls back in the ring - definitely on the offense. He looks for a clothesline but Jake ducks and springboards off the ropes before turning in mid-air and looking for a Tornado DDT. Rattlesnake stops the DDT, but Jake still has the front facelock on. There's no telling what move Rattlesnake will follow with, but in an impressive show of strenght - he manuevers Jake onto his shoulders and looks for the Snakebite. Jake delivers several knees to his chin before twisting his body and delivering a Tornado DDT to Rattlesnake, planting him in the mat and quickly Jake ascends to the top rope.
Jake looks for his Bullet with Butterfly Wings, but Rattlesnake moves out of the way and Jake is sent crashing and burning into the mat. Jake rises up holding his sternum and Rattlesnake sends him flying to the mat with a huge Chokeslam. Jake is completely out of it, and now to put an exclamation point on the matter - Rattlesnake delivers a huge Snakebite that shakes the foundations of the ring and it's absolutlely academic from here.
Phillip: And the winner of this match, Rattlesnake.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 16:01:13 GMT -5
Segment: The Dirk Hilton Show Part 1 (Credit: Dirk Hilton)
[[The opening lyrics "I Want it All" by Queen hits, as the video screen shows the words "An ACW Production", before fading to "Starring Dirk Hilton". As the guitar kicks in, the lights focus to the entrance way, where Professor Folsom Floyd has walked slowly through the curtain, pipe in mouth, and clutching a collection of leaflets. Following shortly afterwards, Hilton emerges from behind the curtain, wearing your typical actor's robe, with his initials on the pocket, talking on a cell phone, and clutching his mask in the other hand.
Hilton quickly and rudely overtakes Floyd, while the Professor begins to hand out leaflets to members of the crowd, advocating his desire for a "back to basics" return as he sports a white t-shirt with the same "back to basics" message printed on it. Hilton in the meantime, while still talking on his cell phone, is casting his eyes over the crowd with a measure of disgust, until he suddenly spots a good looking woman amongst the fat, sweaty masses. Thinking on his feet, he ends the call and delves into his robe, producing a signed 8x10 photo, which he instructs a security guard to give to the lady, much to the derision of the tubby bastards around her.
Oblivious to this, Floyd continues to hand out the leaflets, some of which are being screwed up and thrown back in his face, while others are torn or merely dropped on the floor. Hilton, meanwhile rolls into the ring, where a spotlight focuses on him, as he opens his robe, and displays his chiselled physique, with a smug, "what else were you expecting" look on his face. Removing the robe entirely, he takes two small water bottles from the pocket, and then hands it to the ringside attendent, ensuring that he takes good care of his, before donning his mask, apologising to all the ladies in the crowd. The mask itself has Hilton's face on it anyway, so that people can still look at him, but his money maker is not at risk.
Hilton takes a sip from one of the water bottles, as he waits for Floyd to enter the ring. The Professor continues to move around the ringside area, handing out his leaflets, ensuring that the time keeper and announcers get one as well, before he eventually makes his way into the squared circle, naturally walking up the steps carefully, and ensuring that he doesn't catch his pipe on the ropes. As he enters the ring, he catches the eye of Hilton, who doesn't look impressed. Floyd instantly gets the feeling that he has done something wrong, but he's not quite sure just yet]]
Hilton: Aren't you forgetting something?
[[It suddenly comes to the Professor as he nods, realising what he has forgotten, before moving out of the ring to get a mic and then return it to Hilton]]
Hilton: So this is my audience. I've gotta say, I was hoping for a live one, but in this business I suppose you have to take what you can get. A bit like this guy in the front row with his food, and from the looks of things, he gets a whole lot. You could never be Dirk Hilton. Even with the Subway diet, you'd be lucky to reach Horatio Sanz.
But then, there's not one person here who could be Dirk Hilton. Other than me of course. You need a certain something, something I can't quite put my finger on. Other than, you know, the perfect face, and this gorgeous, toned, Hollywood body. You know what, I guess I can put my finger on it, after all. [[Looking to the front row fat guy]] You can't though, tubby, you'd probably get your chicken grease all over me.
You know, for a premiere audience for The Dirk Hilton Show, I can't help but feel disappointed, but then, I've got to look at the big picture. This is the beginning of something big, and I hope you people all go home tonight realising that. Because in a few years time, when I'm starring in the big summer blockbusters, doing the talk show circuit, and signing my latest movie contract, y'all can say that you were there when it all began. Just, don't think that gives you a right to talk to me though, because you know, it doesn't.
What's important for each and every one of you is that you make the most of this glorious opportunity, because once I'm gone, I'm gone, and you just know full well that my time is coming. I mean, let's face it, no-one can ignore this face for long. The women in the audience know what I'm talking about, or at least the ones who aren't already married to their cousins do. Which I guess leaves about three of you.
The fact of the matter is this, and this is important, so I want all of you to listen very, very carefully, because this may be the most vital piece of information you hear all night, and this is it - you all have to... [[cell phone rings]] ...hmmm...you know what, I gotta take this, I'll get back to you. Hey, hold this a second...[[tosses mic towards Floyd without a moment of hesitation as he answers his cell phone]]...talk to me...
[[Floyd drops the mic as he fails to demonstrate his quick reflexes. However, he is able to embarass himself further as he attempts to pick it up, but isn't able to do so as it slips through his fingers. Fortunately, for him and the rest of the audience, third time is the charm]]
Floyd: [nervous laugh] Showing off my butter fingers wasn't exactly the way I wanted to begin my relationship with you, my my brothers and sisters. In fact, I wanted to make a good first impression on you because, let's face it, you only get one chance to make a first impression.
On that note, greetings and salutations to you all. I wish you nothing but joy and happiness as I, Professor Folsom Floyd, have come to educate you on an important matter that is eating away at our society. Well, let's face it, there are more than just a few. I could start to talk to you about the problems with global warming or with the American economy or with the fact that the Nirvana just haven't put out a new record in a very long time.
[[Floyd smiles as he looks around at the crowd, wanting their adulation but only getting groans and looks of disgust. Naturally, he is ignorant to the reason that he is being booed]]
Crowd member: Kurt Cobain has been dead for 13 years, you dork!
[[Floyd notices this crowd member and, as subtlety as possible, makes his way over to the ring ropes that are closest to him]]
Floyd: Who?
[[The crowd member scoffs at him in a manner that allows Floyd to see that he is well out of his depth here]]
Floyd: I'm sorry, I honestly have no idea who the Nirvana are and, for that, I sincerly apologise from the bottom of my heart. I just remember reading something about them a few years ago and I felt I had to try and reach you on such a level because, well, you are my audience and we've got to establish some kind of relationship. It's very important that we do because I am going to be teaching you guys a lot in the upcoming future. Someone around here needs to take a stand and take some responsibility for educating the children of tomorrow. I have decided to volunteer my own services for that task and what other subject could I start with but, of course... wrestling. After all, it's the reason that we are all here today. It is what has brought us together in this love fest.
[[Floyd gets the attention of Hilton for the moment, away from his cell phone]]
Hilton: Did you just say "love fest" there, Fo-Flo?
Floyd: I did, Mr. Dirk, I did.
Hilton: Just tell them I had no idea that they were pre-op. Otherwise I would never have paid those prices.
[[Hilton returns to his call as Floyd clears his throat, trying to ignore the momentary embarassment of that situation and move on]]
Floyd: Well, that's just lovely, thank you. Anyway, I feel I need to reach out to you, my brothers and sisters, and teach you about the history of wrestling. You see... what you're watching today is nothing like the wrestling I knew as a youngster growing up on the outskirts of Folsom prison. No, what you're watching today is a travesty. It's a sick degeneration of what was once a very noble and fine art. It was civilised and something that could be enjoyed by the whole family, not just Uncle Erv, who would come home late at night, drunk and cuddle up with you in bed, braiding your hair and calling you Brian.
[[Hilton's attention is drawn away from his cell phone again as he looks at Floyd]]
Hilton: Did you just say the words: Uncle, night, drunk, cuddle, bed, braid, hair and Brian all in the same sentence?
[[Floyd nods awkwardly in acknowledgment as Hilton just stares at him, not quite sure what to say]]
Hilton: [shrugging it off] Okay.
[[Hilton returns to his cell phone conversation as Floyd looks back at the crowd]]
Floyd: I trained for many years during my youth, as I waited for my parents to come to their senses and leave their self imposed confinement at Folsom prison, to be part of this sport. I wanted to be part of something very special, but, unfortunately for me, wrestling lost its way and I found myself helpless to be able to do anything about it. Well... today I stand with the first opportunity to actually take some action and, not only that, I bring you news... great news about this problem. I have managed to trace it all back to when the train first started coming off the tracks and do you know what I found? It all started with the Ewoks.
[[The crowd right now are clearly confused as the frowns on their faces say it all. They look to one another for understanding, but no one seems able to be able to help them. Floyd goes to explain further when Dirk Hilton grabs the mic out of his hands, having now finished with the call on his cell phone]]
Hilton: As I was saying, the most important thing to remember is... is.... you all have to... you know what, I forget what it is, but ultimately, you'll figure it out for yourself in the long run. Wait, were you just talking about Star Wars?
[[Floyd nods sheepishly]]
Hilton: What did I tell you about the Star Wars stuff? Since when did Hollywood success and Star Wars work together? I'll tell you when, never. Concentrate on what you know best, and what will be the secret of our success, the wrestling. Well, I say secret, but it's really not much of a secret because I've just told everyone exactly what it is. You see what you made me do now?
You know what, I'll let that one slide. We'll put it on the blooper reel, people will laugh, they'll see my human side, alongside my gorgeous, sexy side - not that there's ever an opportunity for people not to see that.
But let me take you back to a key word, one which you've heard me use a few times tonight, and that key word is success. What you're looking at right here is a blueprint for success, the right looks, the right ability, and most importantly for rising to the top in the business, the right attitu..
[[The cell phone rings yet again, Hilton answers]]
Hilton: ...Tony! Tony, Tony, Tony. Did you get my fax? You did? Great, set up a meeting, we'll get it done, and I'll be out of the hick parade before we know it, Ciao bro, Ciao.
[[Hilton finishes with his cell phone once again]]
Hilton: As I was saying, we have the right attitude for this business, and that's why The Dirk Hilton Show will be the ratings success that this once-great sport has been crying out for.
Now, if there's one staple of a show that everybody loves, it's that little 3 minute coda at the end, where the supporting character wraps everything up nice and neatly. And Fo-Flo, this is where you come in. I'd call it your starring role, but of course, I'm the star, so don't get too carried away.
[[Hilton produces a stopwatch from his robe pocket]]
Hilton: The executive producer credit is on the screen, your time starts now...
[[Floyd feels under the pressure as he looks at Hilton, not sure if he's being serious or not. All Hilton does is continue to look at his stopwatch, making the Professor feel even more nervous. At this point, Floyd reaches into his pocket and unfolds a few pieces of paper, notes that he's taken at some point in preparation for this moment]]
Floyd: My brothers and sisters, I present to you the first lesson in wrestling history. This is the first installment of what will be your new bible for...
[[Floyd points at his shirt that reads "Back to basics"]]
Floyd: Getting back to basics. And now, to document this moment in history, I will title it... Chapter 1: The Ewok Menace. In 1983, a film was released to the world by the name of "Return of the Jedi". It was the third film in the Star Wars trilogy and it was, like the two films before it, a commercial success bringing in millions and millions of dollars for George Lucas. However, little did anyone know what a big impact this film would have on the world today. Especially on the world of wrestling all because of some dispicable, evil and downright cantankerous race known as the Ewoks. Most people saw them as cute, cuddly little things but the truth is that they were nothing but furball terrorists. That's right, my brothers and sisters, the Ewoks introduced us into the age of terrorism.
Hilton: Oh good grief. What did I just say, huh?
[[Floyd looks away from Hilton and back down at his paper as he continues to read from it exclusively]]
Floyd: The Ewoks introduced us into the age that can now be defined as "the war on terror". How did they do this? It's simple, they showed little respect for their environment in the way they horrifically abused the trees and wildlife on the forest moon of Endor. They held the trees captive as they built their villages on the trees, through the trees, in the trees and in all other kinds of violating ways.
As soon as the powers that be in the wrestling world saw that, they instantly knew that chair shots and barbed wire deathmatches should be part of wrestling. Once those people got a look at the Ewoks in their little satanistic tree village, they knew that bodyslamming people through tables was the future. It wasn't just that, the damn Ewoks even used trees, trees ripped from their very roots as a weapon in their fight against Imperial Stormtroopers and their AT-STs! They completely desocrated those trees in a muntinous fight against the ruling power of the galaxy! Can you believe such treachery and betrayal? Not only that, but they even threw rocks too! That's right, ROCKS! It was completely barbaric.
[[Floyd takes a moment to compose himself as he takes deep breaths in and out]]
Floyd: And that is where it all began, my friends, that is who you have to thank for hell in a cell matches, that is who you have to thank for ruining wrestling.
[[Floyd stops reading from the paper as he puts it back into his pocket and looks around at the crowd]]
Floyd: But don't worry, my brothers and sisters, because The Dirk Hilton Show is here to change things. We are here to fight for a return to the traditional wrestling scene of pre-1983, we are here to push for old school wrestling and a return to getting back to basics. And, well, if we fail at that... we might have to get "extreme" in our own way by hitting you all with a major, and I mean major... leaflet campaign. But we won't stop there as we follow it up with some garage sales, some street theatre and possibly even some benefit concerts featuring Duran Duran and the Pet Shop Boys.
Hilton: Time is up, Fo-Flo, and with only seconds to spare. It's almost as if I never pushed the button in the first place. And for all of you lucky people, well lucky aside from the whole poor personal hygiene, no looks and lack of teeth, all that's left to remind you is to tune in next time for more from the man of the moment, the star of the future, and your next Hollywood hero, and it's all "Starring" Dirk Hilton.
[[Hilton throws down the mic as he begins to exit the ring, followed closely by Folsom Floyd.]]
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 16:03:22 GMT -5
Segment: Silence Calls the Storm (Credit: Hunter)
Jesus, I'm going to need a heart transplant by the end of the day. As if being seen wasn't enough, I now have to descend a flight of stairs to face my judgment. If I'm lucky, Petey hasn't told anyone anything yet. However, if he has, chances are I am terribly, terribly fucked. And naturally, considering my over-the-top melodrama, I cannot help but descend the stairs slowly, so as to raise the tension. A brief, agitated sigh from my partner in crime above me lets me know that perhaps it is not in anyone's best interest to continue at this pace, and so I speed up slightly, and then jump down the stairs nonchalantly, but rather loudly. The some thirty men inside turn to me instantly...and then turn back. I see Petey look at me nervously in the corner, but considering everyone's else's rather non-caring mood, I can safely assume that I am safe for now.
Petey: Mikey!
I stay perfectly still for a few moments, and then look at Petey out of the corner of my eye. He is looking straight at me, and at this moment I recall my "other name." I turn to him somewhat abrasively, so as to maintain dominance, but he approaches me all the same.
Petey: Mikey, I think that I know who killed Nicky.
I look at him for a moment, but can produce only one word. And yet, this word is able to help me mold my plan.
Really?
Petey: Yeah. I heard---
Hang on. Gentlemen! Hello, guys!
The small conversations amongst the other guests in the building subside, and they all turn irritably towards myself and Petey, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room (I only now realize that Frankie stayed at the entrance).
Erm...our friend Petey here was just going to tell me who killed Nicky. Isn't that right?
Petey looks at me, startled by my decision to share with the rest of the group. But deciding that it shouldn't be that big of a deal, he clears his throat.
Petey: Uh...yeah...well, I was just walking past that room on the second floor where we usually store our...uh...stuff...
The store room.
He chuckles nervously. All the better.
Petey: And I heard some guys talking. They talked about framing someone, or killing, or...I'm not sure. What I mean is that if you go check that room, I'm sure you'll find the guys who---
I'm afraid that's impossible, Petey.
He raises an eyebrow.
Petey: Why?
Well, myself and Frankie just came from the third floor, and we were checking every room along the way down here. And we found that room empty, didn't we, Frankie?
Frankie Damage silently nods from the entrance. I turn to Petey matter-of-factly, but he suddenly develops a suspicious look.
Petey: Why were you and him checking every room?
I smile, but on the inside only. Unfortunately for him, I thought ahead.
Because we wanted to be sure that everyone was down here.
Petey: Why---
Patience, Peter.
He grinds his teeth. This is a good sign, for people do not think well under stress. But you knew that already, didn't you?
We were conversing about Nicky's death, and we decided that it's time we revealed something that no one but us knows. For...you see...when we found his body---
I forgot to mention that Frankie and I played off the story that we discovered his body. Continue.
He was still somewhat alive. And I'm sure that does not surprise any of you, you all knew what a tough bastard he was.
A quick murmur of agreement spreads through the room before silence falls over them again.
Well, when we were trying to stop the bleeding, I heard him mutter three words: "he killed me." So I leaned in closer, and I said, "who?" And after a moment's struggle, he whispered his final word...
I pause for dramatic effect. Without looking I can tell that Frankie is groaning.
"Petey."
Commonly, one would expect a large eruption of murmurs, but instead, the silence remains, but intensifies greatly. Their eyes shift from me to Petey, and the bewildered soldier looks at me with innocent eyes.
Petey: What? No...I...Nicky...I was with---
You actually never told anyone where you were that night. You might as well fill us in now.
He stutters weakly, and then speaks again.
Petey: I...I don't remember. But...
Well, we all know you well, Petey; you have no other friends but the men in this room, and you were never a loner. Were you with one of them?
Petey: YES!
He blurted it out without even stopping to think. It is this action that likely solidifies my case. Or...well, the next, technically.
So, in that case, these men must remember just exactly where they were on that night. So, if you were with Petey on the night of Nicky Tughazzi's death, I urge you to stand.
I already know that no one is going to stand. This is because I have the pleasure of knowing that Petey was sleeping at this time, because he got sick from his meal earlier that day, and I, of all people, was the one who urged him to sleep it off. Imagine that.
Well there you have it. I was confident that you were in fact the guilty party, but Frankie and I did not want to make any sort of punishment yet. For, although I technically should be your leader due to the death of Nicky, I cannot help but feel that this is a democracy, and as such, you should get the decision.
The men sit perfectly still, all of them quietly eying Petey.
So what'll it be?
They don't kill him so much as they make a pinata out of him. They all rose as a single, cohesive unit, and brought him down before I could even register what happened. I'm quite happy Nicky isn't alive, particularly because he would have raised Hell if he saw the mess they made. I stood there perfectly still, however, and let them get it out of their system. Well...sort of. I stopped them when they had just enough for one more job.
I assure you, gentlemen, he's very dead. But, listen, we all know what this means. If he killed Nicky, then clearly he was the Pulcinni's mole. Now, again, I don't want to tell you what to do...but it seems rather obvious, doesn't it? They stole the life of our boss. Well let's return the favor, and then some. We all know what they call home...
I pull out my gun for dramatic effect.
Leave no man alive!
Corny, I know. But they seemed to love it, as they all instantly burst into a violent uproar, and then stormed out of the building as a solitary wave of anger. Even when all of them were outside I could still hear the commotion. It makes me feel quite good, to tell you the truth. I was able to link together two of my goals with less work than I imagined.
Frankie: Breaks your heart, doesn't it?
I look over my shoulder slightly and see him looking off in the direction of Petey's carcass. I admire my gun briefly, and then unload and reload it. Afterwards, I turn back to him again and mutter only a pair of stern words.
Get Tom.
And with that, I follow the undertow out of the building and look around at the mass carnage on the streets. Well...it's not really that bad. But I assure you, they have done enough damage for me to realize that I have done my job well. And what else could a man ask for?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He rubs his eyes ever so slightly, and then yawns after this. He does not bother wasting any emotional energy on thinking about what he has just "remembered." He has gotten used to the prospect of being a "not so good" guy over the past five months, and so something this...tame, for lack of a better term, does not concern him. Instinctively knowing that it is time for his match, he rises slowly and throws on his cloak as always. He pauses for a second, his hand inching just slightly in the direction of where the International Title used to hang. He nods quietly, then opens the door and leaves.
End.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 16:04:12 GMT -5
Segment: This isn't Baywatch, this is ACW, and in ACW, we mean business. (Credit: Scott)
The camera fades into the backstage area where we see Scott Andrews decked out in his usual backstage attire. He rests an open briefcase on top of a fold out chair, kneeling in front of it. The camera cannot see inside and Scott puts the last pieces of whatever resides within the case away and clamps it shut. Scott stands. He lifts the briefcase and looks into the lens of the camera.
Scott: Ladies and jackasses, on Warfare you witnessed what can only be described as divine intervention. An act of God making the impossible, possible...because everybody knows I should have beaten Alicia Kitsune!
BOOOOOOOOO!
Scott: Everybody knows that I'm the Skill, Thrill, and the motherfunkin' Thrill, and daddio I don't need divine intervention to take out anybody on this god damn, piss poor roster! Especially that punk as bitch, Latino...
BOOOOOOOOO!
Scott: Y'see, Latino, I used to admire you, I used to look up to you as a rookie in the ACW, you were always kicking ass and doing it your way. That's how I wanted to do it; my way. Over time I grew weary of trying to follow in someone else's footsteps, fitting someone else's mold...so I made a decision. I made a decision to go in it alone, to do things the way I wanted them to be done. And it's the best decision I ever made.
Scott looks down at the briefcase for a moment before directing his view back to the camera.
Scott: Latino, when I said you messed with the wrong son of a bitch, I wasn't kidding. You've caught me at a very transitional phase, Latino, a phase in which I don't advise you piss me off...I've got business to attend to Latino, business that concerns you...Hahaha, keep your eyes peeled, Latino, because Scott Andrews isn't playing games anymore...
Scott grips the briefcase and walks out of frame.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Apr 5, 2007 16:04:34 GMT -5
Match 3: Brimstone vs. Jack Jefferson (Credit: Kudo)
The contest starts off as quickly as it takes for the sound of the ring bell to travel into the ears of the two competitors – Brimstone and Jefferson, both locking up in a grapple tie up. Jack changes the stalemate and begins throwing his knee into the gut of Brimstone which allows him to follow up with some European uppercuts. Brimstone is taken to a corner and Jack looks to work his advantage further there, but Brimstone fights back with some chops to Jack’s chest followed by a quick running dropkick. Brimstone goes for a very quick cover, but Jack is out by the one, and the two exchange arm drags before Jack reverses one and cranks it, forcefully bringing Brimstone down to his knees. Jack continues to rain pain on the arm of Brimstone for much of the early part of the match, trying to maintain some sort of advantage going into the latter part of the match. Jack makes some momentary rest holds with some light sleeper attempts as well as wedging the edge of his boot across Brimstone’s throat at opportune times.
The mid part of the match is a display of athleticism from both competitors, but especially Brimstone, who fights the pain from the earlier arm attacks and takes off after a run into the turnbuckles, propelling himself backwards with an elbow strike onto Jack’s chest. The opportunity shows itself for Brimstone, and he knows full well of its presence, as he picks Jack up and hits a German suplex, holding with a bridge. The move, while impressive, only gains a 2 count for Brimstone, as Jack begins to pull himself towards the ropes. Brimstone and Jack exchange blows, chops and kicks, but Jack takes advantage once again by focusing his kicks on the triceps of Brimstone. Jack sends him reeling and grabs the arm as he goes for a wrist clutch exploder. Brimstone uses his other arm to fight out however, and he manages to break out of the hold and connect with a clothesline.
The match winds down soon after this, as Brimstone now with the chance to put an end to things, heads to the top rope with Jack seemingly on the ground. As soon as Brimstone reaches the top though, Jack is already up and he runs towards him quickly, nailing Brimstone in the back of the head with a step up enzuigiri! Brimstone slowly topples over, and Jack goes for a pin, but the ever familiar 2 count rings in again. Jack, frustrated now, begins to literally choke Brimstone with both arms, before the referee finally breaks it apart. The offense looks to continue though, as Jack grabs the arm of Brimstone and tries to lock in an armbar, but Brimstone rolls out and goes for a school boy attempt which is quickly kicked out of. The momentum carries itself after the move however, and Brimstone hits a big leg lariat on the running Jefferson. Brimstone rolls out to the apron, shaking off some of the stinging feeling in his arm, and waits for Brimstone to get up. The end comes when Brimstone springboards off the ropes and flips forward into The Inferno (springboard dragonrana) and hooks on of Jack’s legs in the process with his good arm for the 1-2-3 which Jack kicks out of just a bit too late.
Philip: The winner of this match by pinfall: Brimstone!
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