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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:35:49 GMT -5
Thursday Night Meltdown 9th August 2007
Schedule of Matches: -------------------------------------------------
Erick Wilson vs Echo vs Josh The Jersey Boy
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Ross Lambert vs Jonny Hughes
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Jonny Spade vs Scott Andrews
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Jake Cheng vs VorteX - Quadrinity Light Heavyweight Challenge
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Wyvern vs Fallen Souls
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Starkweather vs Rattlesnake
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:36:41 GMT -5
No flashy introductions tonight; we dash backstage as the show begins, for a pivotal meeting is taking place…
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:37:03 GMT -5
Segment: The Wyvern Identity (Credit: Wyvern)
No, there’s no Jason Bourne references in this scene. You’re shit out of luck…
Anyways…fade into the scene, which surprisingly takes place in the office of Chairman Ginger. Wyvern and Ginger are having an active discussion, and judging by the reactions of both, neither is showing hostility towards one another, even in spite of the rocky situations as of late.
Ginger:…So that’s it?
Wyvern: Yeah, that’s my idea. That will cover Heatwave just fine, won’t it?
Ginger: Hmmm…
Ginger pulls up a tentative card for Heatwave and examines it.
Ginger: Yeah, I think that’ll suffice. It’ll make things interesting, that’s for sure.
Wyvern: Glad to hear it, and definitely glad you’re not off your rocker.
Ginger: Don’t push it. I’m being gracious enough to still not strip your title, you know. In fact, consider facing Fallen Souls tonight a reminder that the threat is still very real.
Wyvern: Sure thing.
With that, Wyvern rises out of his chair and exits the chairman’s office.
Ginger: Does he always leave without saying goodbye? That man has zero communication skills.
What in the blue hell did Ginger and Wyvern come to an agreement on?
Fade out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:37:51 GMT -5
Segment: Spontaneous Motivation (Credit: Scott)
After relaxing for a few more days Scott Andrews has had just enough time to recover from his minor injuries, although his back is still in a slightly bad way. Tonight he has no time off; a match with ACW veteran, Jonny Spade. He’s fought Jonny before, and won no less, so this time should be no different for the Vigilante.
As ACW cameras cut back to Meltdown we see Scott Andrews in full ring attire with Charlotte King at his side; microphone in hand, ready for an interview.
Charlotte: Ladies and gentlemen I have with me now, Scott Andrews!
The crowd pop huge for the ACW superstar.
Charlotte: Now, I wanted to ask you a few questions - - -
Scott: Seeing as you are an interviewer I would hope so…I’m sorry Charlotte, please continue…
Charlotte: Hmm, well, firstly, what are your thoughts on your current position in ACW?
Scott: My current position? My current position is that I’m a law enforcing, ass kicking machine that’s gonna tear a hole in anyone who gets in my way; and unfortunately for Jonny Spade, tonight, it’s his turn.
Charlotte: And what are your thoughts on Jonny Spade as a competitor here in ACW?
Scott: Well, he’s a good guy, he respects this business and he respects others like he should, and I respect him for that. Just as long as he doesn’t go breaking the rules and trying to cheat me out of a win I’ll leave his head attached to his body tonight.
Charlotte: And my final question; there has been talk of Adrian Flamingo walking into the arena with ‘Scott Andrews’ signs such as “The Vigilante Sucks!” and “Adrian Flamingo > Scott Andrews” ; have you seen or heard anything about this?
Scott: Listen, Adrian Flamingo can do whatever the hell he wants. He can take the felt tip markers he used and stick them up his ass for all I care! That kid needs to be taught a lesson, that’s one thing I know for sure, Charlotte. He’s been stirring for weeks. If he makes one more false move, it may be his last. I just hate snotty nose punks like him, stirring shit for shits and giggles; it just pisses me off. Why can’t he spend his time doing something constructive?...I dunno, he must have his reasons, and whatever they are they better be good, or Scott Andrews is gonna leave his foot print on Adrian Flamingo’s pretty face! I have a match to get to; thanks for the motivation, Charlotte. Interview over.
And with his blood now boiling with the very thought of Adrian Flamingo lingering in his mind, Scott takes off in a hurry, adjusting his wrist tape as he goes. Charlotte watches his make his way down the hallway as the camera cuts to the next part of the show.
CUT
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:38:15 GMT -5
Segment: Ayre on a G String (Credit: Echo)
It hadn’t been difficult to get Joachim unlimited access to my dressing room. The place had surprisingly lax security; maybe they relied on the talent to self-police or something. Either way, a quick form filled out and here he was, on the other end of my couch (which wasn’t terribly long, so we overlapped a lot. I wasn’t complaining), reading Vogue while I stretched out, stared at the ceiling, and tried to remember something.
That “something” was annoyingly elusive. There was some ephemeral fact I was supposed to remember about tonight. It was important, but much like a lot of things I tried to recall, every time I got close it’d slip away. I should’ve been frustrated, and I think, subconsciously, I was, but any irritation I felt at this point over not being able to remember something was a dull ache. A drop in the ocean, compared to everything else I wished I knew.
A light drumming of four fingertips on one of my thighs brought me back to reality. “Echo, m’dear,” came a voice from somewhere behind the Vogue, “you probably shouldn’t lie around like this just before going out there.”
“Going out where?” I asked, briefly puzzled out of my boredom-induced ‘trance’.
“You said you had a match tonight, remember?”
Son of a bitch, that was what I was thinking about. ‘….Right. Yes, I do.”
With a not-insignificant effort, I picked my head up slightly, looking towards Joachim, who’d put down the magazine and turned to look at me. “So,” he said, “you’ve been lying here for the last hour, doing nothing. You’re going to be lethargic to the point of uselessness out there unless you actually get up and do something before these fights.”
“Heh.” I propped both heels up on his shoulders, and arched my back a little, stretching. “Is that an offer, ‘Chim?”
He rolled his eyes with what I could only describe as mild disdain, which surprised me with how much it stung. “Ayres, look, I’m trying to be helpful here---”
“Don’t call me that. Please? Not when we‘re not around people to keep our image up.”
“Why the hell not?”
Because you’re really pissing me off was the immediate response that jumped to my mind, but obviously that wouldn’t do. “Because it’s not real. It isn’t me.”
I think, on some level, he sensed he was starting to get my hackles up, and so he relented a bit, leaning down to place a few kisses on my stomach. My heart nearly leapt up my throat at the sensation, but I was determined to stay calm, if only to keep him down there.
Somewhere in the midst making me shiver, Joachim found time to riposte. “Au contraire, Echo; until we find out otherwise, it might as well be you. In the absence of any kind of truth, the most convenient lie is usually the next-best thing.”
“….Yeah. You’re right.” God damn it all to hell.
Why was this how all our arguments, or semi-arguments, or anything like that, ended? I never pursued it, never really put up any serious fight, nothing; I always just fell apart after a round of…this. It was impossible to chase a serious disagreement with him because it’d always degenerate into antics before it could actually get anywhere, and like a fool I’d always go along with it instead of trying to accomplish something. It was absolutely infuriating.
On some level, the voice of reason said, I liked this. I had to like this, because it was the same way every time and I had yet to do a damned thing about it. The caresses, the minor intimacies that added up between us, the chill of his lips sliding over my skin like a brush from some very real, intoxicating mortal danger---none of them would affect me like this if I wasn‘t letting them. Aiding, abetting, and enjoying.
Knowing that made me even madder than I already was, because it was true.
Looking back, I don’t even recall how I got off the couch, but I was up in a heartbeat, grabbing my gloves off the table and shoving my hands into them with a whole lot of undue haste. Joachim, far from being rattled at seeing me launch myself away from him, looked bemused. “You still have ten minutes, you know.”
“I know.” I didn’t bother spraying on the perfume, because I’d already drenched myself in it on coming here. “I figure I’ll get a head start, wake up a bit on the way.” It was amazing I was able to sound as calm as I was, considering my heart was thudding against my ribcage at jackhammer speeds, but thank god for small favors.
“Mm. Good luck. I’ll watch you on the TV here, even though I doubt I’ll have the faintest idea what’s going on.”
I paused in front of the couch on my way out, leaned over the arm, and kissed him, hard, just to show Joachim how pissed I was. Makes sense, I know. When I pulled back, to my great delight, he was the one looking all inflamed, and I had the vindictive satisfaction of saying “I’ll be back later” and walking straight out the door of the dressing room.
Were I a man, and seven feet tall and four hundred pounds or something, I would’ve probably punched a wall or something to make an “I’m mad as hell statement”. Thankfully I was above displays like that, but I was most definitely mad as hell, and when I got to that ring, I was going to inflict some serious concussive damage on one or both of my opponents.
And their children.
And their children’s children.
End.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:39:10 GMT -5
Segment – A Visit (Credit: Jake Cheng/VorteX)
The camera fades into one of ACW’s many hallways, and Jake Cheng can be seen strutting confidently holding his Light Heavyweight Championship on his shoulder. It seems as if he is walking with a purpose in mind, and indeed he is as he stops at a familiar locker room door and looks up.
Jake: Vortex! VORTEX!
The door in the hallway opens up. Vortex looks at Jake for a moment a little surprised at his methods, but then steps out into the hallway.
Jake: Hey buddy.
Vortex continues to stare at Jake who steps closer to him.
Jake: Don’t look so afraid. I just came to talk.
Vortex: About?
Jake: The challenge you made on Monday. I’d say that was pretty bold.
Vortex: Brash maybe, but I like challenges. Besides, aren’t you taking them regardless?
Jake: I am, don’t get me wrong. It’s just most of the people who challenge me....have a chance.
The crowd boos and Jake rolls his eye at said booing.
Vortex: Not this line again. You heel types really need to start looking up better taunts.
Jake: Oh really? I think you’re just scared.
Vortex: Well look at Monday for example. You tied Hunter and got lucky that you got to keep your title. At Seven Deadly Sins, I pinned Hunter for the three count. Something that you have never done...
Jake: On a stage like Seven Deadly Sins, you are correct. Fine. Wooptie freaking doo. I am not going to be as careless as Hunter is. And I expect you to stay sharp too. Let’s make this match look good, when we both know you have no chance.
Jake starts to walk away but Vortex puts his arm on Jake’s shoulder and spins him around.
Vortex: You better not play dirty.
Jake: Umm, what?
Vortex: I said, you better not play dirty. I swear if you do, I will make your life a living hell. I’m all for challenges, but types like you are bound to do anything to keep a little gold. I’m warning you…don’t.
The crowd cheers and Jake gets red in the face.
Jake: Who in the HELL do you think you are?!
He wants to hit VorteX right across the face with his title but doesn’t. He turns back around and walks away.
Jake: See you in the ring, tough guy.
VorteX smiles, he won the battle. But the ring is a whole other story. Can VorteX capture the Light Heavyweight Title? Will Jake break his draw streak? Time has a way of revealing everything…
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:40:38 GMT -5
Match 1: Erick Wilson vs Echo vs Josh The Jersey Boy (Credit: Hitman)
Philip enters the ring with his mic.
Philip: “The following contest is a triple threat match! Introducing first, from Gloversville, New York, standing at 6’1” and weighing in at 201 lbs, he is Erick Wilson!”
The beginning of "Minerva" by Deftones faintly plays on the sound system as the lights dim down. Suddenly, as the song picks up in a guitar explosion, the lights go back on and Erick Wilson appears at the top of the stage. He makes his way down to the ring, slapping some hands and he slides into the ring. He gets up to his feet and waits in his corner, preparing for the upcoming match.
Philip: “From Jersey City, New Jersey, standing at 6’2” and weighing in at 230 lbs, he is Josh the Jersey Boy!”
JJB hears his music as he comes out and begins saying "Fuck You" to the audience, he then proceeds to the ring by slowly looking at his opponent. Then, he slowly rolls into the ring and does an Orton Pose as Pyro comes out from the turnbuckles.
Philip: “And finally, from Mogadishu, Somalia, standing at 5’11” and weighing in at 115 lbs, she is Echo!”
The lights dim, and the grinding intro of “Perish” starts up, followed shortly by a wave of blue light and the actual music. Echo makes her way out and heads straight down the ramp, taking her time. After reaching the ring, she languidly climbs up to the apron, turns with her back to the ropes, and leans back, looking up at the ceiling. The moment of reflection passes quickly and she slides through the ropes, heading to a corner and removing her niqab. From the moment the lights come up, she’s all business.
Bell rings.
Erick looks towards Echo and shrugs his shoulders before turning his attack towards JJB. After some forearm shots, Erick Irish Whips JJB into Echo, who leapfrogs over JJB and catches him on a rebound with a dropkick that sends JJB tumbling through the ropes. Echo then spins around and avoids a clothesline from Erick before connecting with an STO that would’ve been a three count had it not been for Erick grabbing the bottom rope before the final count. Echo then picks up Erick and whips him off the ropes. He manages to successfully avoid a spinning heel kick but when he goes to bounce off the opposite ropes, JJB is there to pull them down and send Erick to the outside. He then enters the ring and goes behind Echo, wrapping his arms around her waist and tossing her to the canvas with a German suplex, bridging for a two count.
JJB then picks up Echo and throws her into the corner before letting loose with some rapid fire kicks to her midsection. He then grabs her by the arm and looks for another Irish whip but she arm wrenches JJB and stands in front of him. She then leaps up and wraps her legs around JJB’s arm, taking him down to the canvas for the Rapid Fire (rolling cross armbar). Before JJB can even stick his foot out on the ropes, Echo’s boot scrapes make the poor guy feel like he’s in need of a plastic surgeon. She then maintains the hold until Erick leaps off and manages to land on both JJB and Echo with a diving body press. The ref counts it as a pin but Echo kicks out in the nick of time, throwing Erick off of herself and JJB.
JJB is slowly beginning to recover after the deadly kicks Echo has dealt him as Erick picks up Echo and throws her to the canvas with a snapmare followed by a stiff kick to the back of her head. Erick pins but gets a two count. Echo is picked up once more but she fights out of Erick’s grip and snapmares him to the canvas. Instead of doing the “OMG STIFF KICK TO THE BACK” routine, she steps in front of Erick and roundhouse kicks him square in the forehead. She looks at the fans and nods softly but before she can pin Erick, JJB goes behind Echo and positions her for a pendulum backbreaker, which connects. JJB then applies a backbreaker stretch to Echo, trying to force her into submission. The crowd, not entirely devoted to the career of JJB, fires up the clapping in an attempt to get Echo to snap out of her state of submissiveness… if that even is a word. Echo lets loose with a stiff kick to the side of JJB’s head that causes him to loosen the grip on his hold. Erick then shows up out of nowhere and hits JJB with a lungblower, causing Echo to be released from the hold.
Erick then pins JJb but gets a close two count. JJB gets to his feet and is kicked in the midsection then hit with a Cutter for a two count. Erick then heads to the top rope and prepares for the Demon Cleaner but Echo jumps up to the second rope and, in an amazing show of athleticism, nails Erick with the Take 2 Nap (yakuza kick) that sends him careening to the floor below. JJB is then up and he kicks Echo in the midsection once she hits the canvas. He attempts the Jersey Driver but Echo uses JJB’s taunting as a method of springing up onto JJB’s shoulders, striking him in the head with two elbows and completing the Lacrimosa that gains her the three count.
Bell rings.
Philip: “And the winner of the match is Echo!”
Echo gets a nice round of applause as the referee raises her arm. She then exits the ring and heads to the back. Erick gets up and follows her to the back….
Meanwhile, JJB lies on the ground motionless and dazed.
Eddie: He got his butt kicked tonight Max.
Maxwell: Good it'll shut him up for a while.
*Suddenly the lights go out and Gregorian Monks come out with torches and begin chanting.
Maxwell: What the hell is going on?
Eddie: I have no idea!!!!
*The monks are slowly making their way to the ring
Maxwell: What do they want with JJB? I mean I don't like the guy but he doesn't deserve this.
Eddie: What are they doing?
*The monks slide under the ring ropes and lay the candles in a circle where JJB's prone body is
Maxwell: This has to be a sick ritual.
Eddie: The monks are chanting something.
Monks (In Latin): Raise this poor soul from under the ground, make him rise to our dark master's crown!!
*The monks lift JJB up and carry him backstage, the candles in the ring explode leaving hot wax on a security guard.
Eddie: Ummm what did we just witness Max?
Maxwell: It looks like a lynch mob in monks robes Eddie.
*Scene Fades
(OOC: Ending events credit to JJB.)
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:41:48 GMT -5
Segment: Fast Forward To The Past (Credit: Wyvern/Stark)
It's a retro segment. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?
It's a few hours before the show, and Umeko Saito is off with her newest... Um... Friend. That's a good term for it, I suppose. But, that leaves the esteemed Starkweather and Wyvern by themselves to make their own means, and that translates roughly to doing a munchie run of sorts. A high-end one, yes, but one nonetheless. Starkweather has a small yellow hand basket that is rapidly becoming a bit too heavy for his preference, and Wyvern seems to be on something of a roll as far as finding delicacies.
Wyvern: Well, there’s these…
Wyvern displays a Toberlone chocolate bar. At about $5 for a single 6 oz. bar, it makes even the shopaholics cringe.
A shrug.
Stark: Better safe than sorry. We'd be better off erring on the side of chocolate, in the case that stereotypes win the day.
Wyvern: Sometimes stereotypes save time, y’know? Anyways, how are we doing so far on these “snacks”?
Wyvern looks over at the yellow basket, which even for a professional athlete, just seems too heavy to be comfortable.
Wyvern: Are you sure we need anymore? If I know you, you’re probably done here. Hell, you’ve probably been done here since we walked through the door.
Stark: I was done when I put my street shoes on an hour ago.
He shrugs once more, looking down at the various salty, crunchy, savory, chocolately and sweet high-end confections and no-cooking-necessary finger foods. He turns and starts to head for the checkout lanes.
Stark: And what exactly are your thoughts on this new acquirement?
Wyvern stops in his tracks, turns towards Stark, and shrugs his shoulders.
Wyvern: Meh. I’m cool with it, but still rather indifferent.
Stark: There is something in this world that you're not frightfully indifferent toward, right? I mean, I have my rare moments of intensity and you seem to... Well, not.
Wyvern: I guess I just don’t care, either way. I know I seem 100% stoic at times, but hell, that’s who I am. I guess, when it comes down to it, it’s good we have another ally. At least we’ve got someone that might make more of an effort than Kudo. I know that’s not saying much, given my absenteeism, but he makes me look like Cal Ripken Jr.
Stark: Or a small, white, wrestling, non-juiced version of Barry Bonds. As far as new allies, in a manner of speaking, we really could do worse. And this get-together was very much Umeko's idea so stop looking at me like that.
Wyvern: Fine. How much more stuff are you planning on getting here? Your arm’s got to be hurting by now.
They reach the checkout lane, the one next to the express line, and he sets the big heavy basket down. The rather bored-looking young woman in the yellow vest making the machine before her beep rhythmically as Starkweather stands back and sighs.
Stark: If they’re not happy with this, I say that we include them in my Cell match and we can sort it out there. As it stands, I am quite happy with the way that things are going in relation to the dear Atomic one.
Wyvern: I think this will satisfy them…hopefully. However, having them added in the cell would mean the added destruction of AK, and we both know that wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?
Stark: Haha... True, very true. But Umeko is by no means a real wrestler, and our new associate isn't in the correct mindset to be much help at the moment.
Wyvern: But 3-on-1, and mindset or not, I think AK would be in for a world of hurt.
Stark: True, true. But I'm greedy when I'm seeking various forms of entertainment. More for them equals less for me, yes?
The bored-looking woman in the yellow vest sighs and checks the readout.
Bored-Looking Woman: Two hundred and twelve oh-seven.
Wyvern: Wow. How are we paying for this, Stark? I’ve got about $75 on me in physical form.
Starkweather lugs out his slim leather waller, pulling a credit card from one of the pockets in it and handing it to her, waving off the other fellow's spare change.
Stark: What in the world do you spend your paychecks on? World champions pull down six figures.
Before the woman can raise her hand to swipe the card, Wyvern digs deep into his wallet, and pulls out two crisp $100 bills and a $20 bill.
Wyvern: Forget that. I had money I was going to use for a good night on the town, but I’d rather not see big corporations get even more money. Ixnay on the plastic, y’know?
A sigh.
Stark: It was Umeko that demanded this in the first place, I think that I can stand paying an extra five dollars to some corporation.
Wyvern: That’s how they get you. Besides, consider it a little something for tolerating my absences somewhat. I know it was frustrating.
Starkweather turns back, waving her to accept the cash and taking his card back, stepping away and gathering up the two plastic bags of consumables as Wyvern gets his change back. He shrugs as they turn to walk out of the store.
Stark: As long as you remain the champion after this month, then your job will have been done very nicely.
Wyvern: Whatever that means. Let’s get going.
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:42:20 GMT -5
Segment: Bloodbath in the Apartment Building (Credit: Ross)
The events of Thursday burning through my skull, the injury, the pain, the autopsy, the doctors, the crazies, the blood, the puke, the morgue, all of it coursing through my mind, causing me to cringe in disgust, I sit up in pure shock, clutching my chest but suddenly realizing… there’s nothing there, no massive cut, no doctors, in fact I’m in on my face on the ground, I feel my world shake as voices enter my head, who are they, what are they, and what the fuck is that smell? I use my palms and all my strength to try and push myself to a kneeling position, I’m there, I open my eyes to see that I’m on my face, surrounded by pools of puke but amazingly, none got me, I’m clean except for the remarkably large gash on my forehead, I look in front of me, seeing 2 policemen chattering.
Cop: Looks like this kid got drunk and crashed his Bike into a Honda Civic, he’s over there.
Cop 2: Let’s go look at the body.
Cop 1: You got an ID on him?
Cop 2: Nope, there should be one on his body.
I quickly look for my escapes, there’s only one way out and that’s through the alleyway front where the policemen are now walking, I look left and right, for a way out, it’s too dark but flashlights click on, my sensors are going wild in my head and I finally see my escape, a ladder behind me, I leap up and grab onto it with one hand before scuttling up the ladder onto the outside steps of a block of apartments, I scramble up the stairs.
Cop 1: Hey he’s still alive, get him!
I barely have time to think, but I sprint up the stairs until I reach the second to last floor, I throw a massive size 13 boot into the door, breaking it open and I thunder through the corridor, the sound of some grunting in the door is heard as well as some moaning.
“Oh God… Oh God… Oh SHIT what the Hell was that?!”
”Someone’s dun’ gon’ and broken in to my house!”
I sprint through the room, observe some scantily clad rednecks in bed, my face turns into disgust and the room is dark but I can just about make out the shotgun on the floor over by the door, the redneck darts for it but I’m quicker to the jump, I lunge forward and roll to the shotgun, I pick it up and point to the fatman and his whore.
“Now I’m not gonna’ hurt you guys but I’m on the run and I don’t even know what the Fuck I’m meant to be doing, if Pigs show up you let them know I’m not here, thanks guys, Viva La Rednecks!”
I sprint through the next door, I lurch forward and crash through the wooden door, I run out past doors when I suddenly stop by a corridor, a SWAT team member walks out and I spin around, smash him in the face with the but of the shotgun and rip out his com system, quickly jacking in to hear just in time that SWAT is about to bust through the elevator, I decide the only option is the stairs, I thunder through the corridor leading down the stairs, seeing there’s already men sprinting up, I decide the best way is to shoot slide so I sit on the banister and slide down the rail, I continue to go around and round, fearing that I’ll fall to my death but it’s that or get shot, I see a Policeman and pull up the Shotgun, I blast him in the face, a Civilian is standing right beside him, but the Policeman doesn’t see me as his back is filled with Shrapnel, I hop off the rail and walk over to the civilian, I smash him in the teeth with the but of the shotgun and used my gloved hands to control his hands, getting his prints all over the gun, I then run down the stairs normally, screaming at the top of my lungs, eventually I bump into a police officer.
“There’s a killer up there! He shot a policeman it was HORRIBLE!” I scream, the policeman nods and I yell “He’s unconscious but he nearly killed me!”, the policeman runs past me, appearing to have ignored me, I continue to sprint down the stairs, I see 3 policemen at the bottom of the stairs.
“POLICE… FREEZE!”, they yell and I completely ignore them, I slide down the stair rail and dive off hitting a MASSIVE diving Kick knocking all of them down before they can grab their guns, I take 2 out, polishing the last one off with a Roundhouse Kick to the temple, I pick up the Riot Shotgun they dropped and cradle it in my arms, walking over to the door to the cold night air, I boot open the door and head out, the chill creeping down my back, I see 2 policemen speed up to me, I pull the shotgun forward and finish them both with individual shells, sending them both into a nearby fountain, I look around and see the surrounding environment and see that there’s no way out, I sprint around, hearing that more SWAT is about to come up through the Court-Yard, I lurch over to the fountain and hop into the second tier, throwing in a spare shell quickly to help me in the battle ahead, a massive SWAT van smashes through the gates, about 6 people jumping out all armed with M4’s, they all yell out to freeze and I raise my arms, I drop my shotgun which falls into the water as they all scatter around when suddenly there’s a sound of an engine, a bike flies through the second gate, bullets spray everywhere rapid-fire as the SWAT team are cut down in gunfire, the bike circles around as all 6 people go down in Metallic Fire, the biker screams “Get On!”, I stick the shotgun in a niche on my back and then, I scatter around, grabbing as many M4’s as I can before hopping onto the back of the bike, grabbing all the M4 ammo I can before chucking the left over gun behind my head.
The bike then speeds off into the night, leaving the bloodbath from before a memory of the past…
Fade.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:43:01 GMT -5
Match 2: Ross Lambert vs Jonny Hughes (Credit: FSX)
The night was still young, though perhaps not as young as a small child should be when they start watching ACW! It's true, soon you will be further able to develop your minds with thanks to us!! Rena's sexual innuendo, and Hunter's complex story lines will be simplified for developing minds, with more happy colors, and animal friends!!!...oh...right...this isn't a marketing ploy to get babies and stay-at-home dads to watch ACW..it's a match...and bound to be a good one, at that! Every meltdown the same general thing seems to be said of our competitors; both have the chance to win, and both are here to entertain the crowd. On this occasion, we see two heels going up against each other. What does that mean? The fans have to choose just who they hate less! Based off the recent actions of both men, however, that's quite a hard decision. You have Jonny Hughes, who I like to call the 'COLD CALCULATING DEATH MATCHINE!'...and you have Ross Lambert. Quite the mouth watering match-up, and it's bound to truly be entertaining, I say expect the best!! Both men expect nothing less. This is enough stalling, however, as they have both entered the ring and had a glass of orange soda by now! Blatant advertising, Gillette Mach-3 Razor....Peanut Butter...Heinz...ok, that should do it! Be noted I'll be writing this in a more decisive manner, as I have less time.
Bell Rings.
Perhaps the best way to look at this contest is a battle of wills, rather then one of performance. Neither man really seems to have a desire to acknowledge the crowd, knowing that they would simply get into a competition of who could secure the most heat on themselves; a contest that Ross Lambert seems to have initially won before the match has even begun, by way of a landslide mind you. There's a notable smirk on both mens faces at this, well the referee seems over-anxious for the contest to begin. They stare at each other for a few more moments, before Hughes makes the initial rush, taking a dash toward his opponent only to be dropped quickly by LEEEAPING CLOTHESLINE!! MY GOODNESS!! Lambert appeared to be quite pleased with his show of athleticism thus far, and wastes little time going to work on Hughes after it. He hits a few stomps at first on "The Shooter", only to be tripped up a moment later, finding himself on his face. The match doesn't look to be going through the cliche that there is always someone with the initial upper-hand, and it becomes immediately evident that they were to rapidly trade control of the match. The match had quite a bit of potential to become a counter festival of sorts, complete with diet soda and a blood-thirsty clown. It appeared that Lambert could not manage the position of blood-thirsty clown, however, as despite the fact he was on the offensive for the majority of the early contest, he found himself countered constantly. It was swing-hit-miss wrestling generally, as Ross may land to nail a single blow before having his follow-up turned around. Counters to the simplest of slams and suplexs may of not appeared to be much to the common man, but it was beginning to wear on Lambert's stamina to do them again and again. He continued to work through this however, basically jumping around Hughes in attack-mode, before being far too winded to strike with any speed or power. It was at this point that Hughes took his opening; hitting a few powerful moves as Lambert was winded. It was of course the perfect time for him to hit quite a few of his signature maneuvers, apparently going through them as if to prove he had an incredibly long and impressive moveset. He seemed to nail an extended Perfect Series, before capping it off with a sloppy Fisherman's DDT. He wasn't able to hold on to him as he dropped, seeming to of slipped, which led him to have to turn and dive back on Lambert from the pin. Had he been able to hold on, it may of very well been a three, but now we will never know. He looks clearly irritated, before seeming to settle down and lift Lambert back to his feet, having a good look at him before hitting The Showpiece!! Ching ching, if I may say so myself, as the swinging back breaker (Catatonic) into a reverse STO was delightfully impressive to watch. Rather then go for the immediate pinfall after the feat, he instead optioned to run up the nearby turnbuckle, and hit the Ode to Dynamite. I must mention here it's an Ode to DYNAMITE, not BENOIT, so you may put away your pitch forks and candle sticks >.>... Following this, Hughes of course went for the obvious. The pin. He didn't get what he wanted though, as Lambert shot an arm up after only two. Damn you, Lambert! Now I have to write…
The big, delicious middle of this match! Which was filled with ingredients that everyone expects and comes to adore; High-speed action, several near falls, and even a few knees to the face; as Jonny held a solid upper hand over Lambert during this period of time. Despite the fact the larger and more intimidating Ross wasn't taking too much of a beating from the varied assaults of his smaller opponent. He was, however, beginning to feel the effects of the constant suplexs leading directly into a submission hold. It appeared that whenever he escaped and returned to his feet, he soon hit the ground again; victim of another slam of some sort. Various snap, german, and butterfly suplexs were hit one after the other, and rolled into an impressive array of submission holds; such as the dragon sleeper, cross kneebar, reverse chinlock, and an incredibly pretty Cobra Clutch, featuring body scissors. This last move was left on for quite awhile, in fact, weakening Lambert tremendously. It appeared even as if he had lost consciousness at a moment, and was about to submit a moment later, that was of course until a surge of energy seemed to run through him. His intent to not be put away so easily is likely was fueled him, like the venom of a cobra, or the venom of a scorpion, or the venom of spiderman, or..well..you get it. Maybe. Either way, with a great feat of strength he managed to break the scissors hold on him, struggling and squirming before elbowing his opponent quickly in the face, and rolling out of the hold, attempting to catch his breath. He didn't really get the chance however, as Hughes quickly got up and ran back over to him, seemingly looking to lock in the Texas Cloverleaf this time around. He didn't get the chance, though, as Lambert was already on a knee by the time Jonny made his way over to him, and was hit with a swift palm strike to the heart, which is always cool to see. Rather then fall to the ground, dead, Hughes instead only stumbled back a bit, clutching his chest and allowing Lambert proper time to return to his feet. Lambert clearly saw this as the perfect opportunity to take back his control of the match, running over to hit a knee strike swiftly to the jaw. He didn't stop there, though, as his opponent was quickly returned to his feet, and hit with an impressive collection of thunderous DDTs. There was a clear expression of agony on Hughes face a few moments later, as he rose to a knee and clutched his head, perhaps even suffering a neck injury from the consistent attacks. He tried to return to his feet a few times, only to drop back to his knees. Lambert seemed quite pleased at this as a reaction, and took a short moment to taunt those in attendance, before walking back over to his foe. Ross could of simply finished the contest right there; had he not been greedy. Instead, he quickly grabbed him and delivered Crippling Losses (Wrist-clutch Snap DDT). This last DDT, in the series that would make Jake the other snake shed a tear of joy, appeared to have an amazing impact, as Jonny crumpled to the ground. He looked quite ugly in his debilitated state, but Lambert didn't seem to have any desire of putting the man out of his misery. Rather then simply pinning him, as anyone with ANY respect for their opponent would do, he instead lifted Jonny from the mat once again, this time walking around to his back. Would this be a belly-to-back suplex of some kind? No...it would be painful. Lambert looks to be nervous to be doing this himself at first, before taking a deep breath and jumping up in place, pushing his knees to Jonny's back and falling forward, grabbing his chin to pull back as they were already headed to the mat. Everyone in attendance appears to be sickened by this maneuver; as many babies are even heard crying when Hughes looks to be snapped in half by this sort-of standing start to the Sinners Deal. Ross continues to pull it back as a submission at first, before seeing little point, and rolling his opponent over for the pin. Would this godly move be the end of things? Noo..the referee was busy vomiting in his mouth from after Lambert delivered the move. It really was pretty sick. So, though he was frustrated, things continued on.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:43:21 GMT -5
From that last set of moves, you should clearly be able to tell that the end was near for this contest. Hughes was a broken shell of a man, and Lambert had a comfortable control of everything that happened. At this point, he really could do whatever he wanted without the fear of things coming back to haunt him. With a clear smile on his face, he seemed to think for a moment before dragging up the form of Hughes and positioning to nail the Chaos Theory. He has a good look at everyone in attendance, before hitting it viciously. He could of just got the pin right there, but instead stood up, gazing down at Hughes motionless body. He wasn't really quite sure just what he should do at this point, but eventually decided to show everyone how great he was. After a few uneventful moments, he fell to his knees and placed a single finger on Hughes chest, waving the referee down to make the count. Boo, I do declare! Boooo! The ref looked himself quite uncomfortable at first, before making the count! The two count, that is! Even if Hughes is nearly dead, he's not going to be pinned like THAT. There's a clear look of frustration on Lambert's face as he pounds the mat and gets up again, clearly disappointed that his ego maniacal pin had failed him. Perhaps he was just a bit too disappointed, however, as he looked to pay little attention to what he was doing when attempting to lift Hughes to his feet, instead finding himself in a small package! A one was counted, a two was counted, but a three was not. He barely escaped an embarrassing defeat as he broke the pin, getting up quite fast as he looked just plain old mad now, stomping and dropping various elbows on his opponent. He was in a state of fury!! After generally beating down on Hughes for a few moment, he lifted up his boot and held it mid air for a moment, before driving it down across Jonny's throat. Hughes is quickly seen revitalized by this, but in all the wrong ways, gasping and gagging as he rolled on the mat, eventually returning to his feet during his fit of....trying...to breathe. As he did return to his feet however, he turned right into his opponent, and was quickly taken in the crossbody hold. Lambert seems to of had enough of this game, and looks to deliver the XG-K9!! What does it mean? Extra Grande Dog..I assume. Anyway, just as he span his opponent to deliver it, Hughes managed to land on his feet! Oh no! That can't be good for Lambert's plan of victory!! As Ross appeared stunned by this sudden revitalization of energy, it gave Jonny time to lift up his larger opponent and look to deliver the Burden of Excellence! It would of work, had Jonny remembered just how much damage he had suffered to his neck and spine throughout the match, and realized he didn't have the strength to keep his opponent up. With a cry, his back gave out as he was trying to deliver the move, and he fell to the ground with Lambert on top of him. You know what that means? Pinfall. One. Two. Three. Booooooooo!
Phillip: And the winner of this match....ROSS LAMBERT!
Despite the cries of Hughes agony still being heard through out the arena, Lambert has no trouble raising quickly to his feet and motioning toward his fans as 'Freak on a Leash' by Korn begins to thunder out of the sound system once again. Despite the fact it was clearly a lucky victory, it was a deserved one, and Lambert seems to be all to aware that he did very well tonight! As Ross rolled out of the ring, and made his way to up the ramp and too the back, many paramedics came racing down to check on the condition of Jonny Hughes. There are a few in attendance who are heard applauding him at this point, and more follow as Hughes pushes away those attempting to give him medical assistance and raises to his feet on his own, notably hunched over and holding his back. He took a deep breath, before slowly making his way out of the ring as many cheered his name. As he reached the top of the ramp, however, he made sure to curse and degrade a few of the fans, as if to tell them that he was alright...in...a...jerkish heel kind of way. Awww.
Fade out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:44:10 GMT -5
Segment: Suit up and lace your boots up, it's war time. BK London - no crying, no lying. (Credit: BK)
In very stressful situations that we have to go through in life, it's always nice to have the support of family or friends. As the segment fades in from black, we enter the locker room of BK London and it appears he has a very special guest with him tonight. Playing the recurring role of his wife, and love of his life, Kiley Johnson.
She steps onto the screen and the male crowd members can't help but wolf whistle as she's again wearing one of her little numbers, a motion that gets each and every male crowd member slapped in the back of their head by their female loved one. BK walks on screen to huge pop from the crowd and places his arm over the shoulder of his wife before looking up.
BK: You know, it feels great to have SOMEONE around here I can talk to. Everytime I go out in that hallway I'm attacked by that skid mark named Kevin Anderson. Thanks for showing up tonight baby.
BK gives her a nice little peck on the cheek in which the crowd responds with a resounding "Awwwww".
Kiley: No problem. But one question.
BK: What is it?
Kiley: Why exactly are you wearing your wrestling attire?
The camera pulls out and gets a full body shot of the Grand Slam Champion, and indeed he is sporting his white and green New York Jets style attire, one that is very popular with the fans.
BK: Well, if you must know, I plan on calling out Thunderkiss before the night is over. With that, there is a good chance that we could get into it tonight like before.
Kiley: That doesn't quite explain the need for tights, I've seen you fight in jeans and shirts all the time.
BK: Yeah, but they're a bit constricting don't you think? With my tights I can move around much easier, and I'm able to land the -
BK kicks the air.
BK: - Shades of Michaels much easier.
Kiley: I see. Do you really have to call him out tonight? I mean I'm not in town for long, a week at the most - we could have a lot of fun in a week..
Kiley aggressively pulls the singlet straps of BK, bringing him much MUCH closer to her.
Kiley: ...if you know what I mean.
BK: We could have a lot of fun...
BK brings his head closer towards Kiley, going in for the kiss. Romance is in the air, you can feel the love, the lust, it's about to be another picture perfect moment for the couple - suddenly BK pulls out and Kiley nearly trips.
BK: Yeah, but you know, I gotta do this. If I don't figure out how I stand compared to Thunderkiss, it's going to haunt me. I've gotta know this, and I've gotta know this tonight.
Kiley scoffs.
Kiley: Fine, but if you come home all sore and battered, I'm not taking care of you again.
BK: Oh yes you are, you're worse than my mother.
Kiley: Ugh, I don't even want to hear her name.
BK: It's not my fault that my mom doesn't like you, you did take her precious golden child away from her.
Kiley: Precious? Please. More like spoiled.
BK: Hey, you wanna take this outside?
Kiley: Fine! Let's do this.
Both of them walk towards the door, and BK opens it. Chivalry is not quite dead is it.
BK: Ladies first.
Kiley: Why thank you.
Kiley steps through the door and BK shuts it behind her.
BK: Me: 1 /Women: 0.
Kiley bangs on the door rather loudly as the segment fades out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:44:54 GMT -5
Segment: You Seriously Think You Can Beat The Stable? (Credit: The…Stable?)
??: Where are we going?
A single female voice. A very familiar one.
We see Umeko Saito smiling her wicked smile. Behind her is Yoko Satoshi. She is leading Yoko by the hand, somewhere in which Yoko is oblivious to the location.
Yoko: I have things to do, you know. What are you doing?
Umeko: Oh, no you don’t. You don’t even have a match tonight.
Yoko: I’m still busy.
Umeko: This will only take a moment, and then you can scurry off to do your “busy” things. Unless, that is, you keep delaying our arrival.
Yoko: To WHERE?
Umeko tries to hide her aggravation, but one groan does slip out. Yoko doesn’t notice it. Luckily, they have arrived. It’s a locker room Yoko isn’t familiar with. However, she is familiar with the people inside. Starkweather, Wyvern, and Kudo.
Yoko: …What is this? Is this a trap?
Umeko: No! Not a trap. As you’re aware…I hope…We are all allies. A Stable.
Yoko: Hence the thought of “trap.”
Umeko: Why must you insist on this being a trap?
Yoko: YOU tried to manipulate me once. Stark was the mastermind behind a plan to get rid of me. Wyvern has more than a few reasons. Kudo…I’m sure he has a reason.
Kudo: Ha! Now why would I have a reason to take out a fellow Japanese countryman - err, countrywoman?
Kudo lets out a light smirk as Umeko brings Yoko, who is still a bit wary, closer to everyone.
Umeko: Remember what we talked about? We have to let go of the past in order to move forward. That’s why The Stable has unanimously voted on letting you join.
Stark raise an eyebrow at that statement.
Yoko: …Join?
Wyvern: Sure, why not?
Kudo: Take it from me, it's the place to be right now.
Yoko: Why me?
Stark: Yes, Umeko, tell her “why her.” Tell her why we “unanimously” voted her into our Stable. She’s dying to know.
Umeko: Because we want to be your friends, Yoko. No one should have to be alone, especially in a time of crisis.
Yoko: I’m not sure…
Umeko: Just imagine how unstoppable we would all be, unified together, covering each others’ weaknesses. That is what real friends do for each other.
Kudo: And more than just covering each others' weaknesses, we are combining our strengths, and that is where the true power lies with our, friendly relationship.
Wyvern: We’re willing to fill that friend gap you have, if you let us. You don’t have to accept, though.
He throws a thumbs up that makes Yoko smile, even though it was directed at Umeko, who nods in approval behind Yoko’s back.
Yoko: I think…
Umeko: Yes?
Yoko: …I think I’ll accept. This is what I need. Friends, a team, and a chance to move on.
Umeko: Welcome to The Stable. Aren’t you glad you came with me now?
Yoko: I’m very glad.
Umeko: Perfect. Now, you said you have things to do, so run along.
Yoko smiles again and waves at everyone before exiting. Once she’s gone, Wyvern and Stark cross their arms. Kudo just grins.
Kudo: The way she left here, so full of spirit, it almost seems - wrong, that she hasn't yet met corruption...
Stark turns his attention to Umeko.
Stark: I know what you’re doing, Umeko. I don’t like it. It’s too risky.
Umeko: The payoff outweighs the risk. You know that.
Stark glances at Wyvern, who just shrugs. Stark sighs.
Stark: If it turns out like I hope it won’t, it’s all on YOUR head, Ms. Saito.
Umeko: It won’t.
End Segment.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:45:45 GMT -5
Segment (OTA): Attack of the Killer...What? (Credit: Hunter / FSX)
If there is one thing that is infinitely true in this world, it is that Hunter has seen some weird things. He has known and seen people of varying levels of sanity, and from each one of them he finds something unique. Fallen is one of these individuals...by which I mean, he is the king of them all. For Hunter has never ever known anyone odder than his current landlord. When he moved in in the first place, he was certain that something odd would happen; it was just a matter of time. Truth be told, something odd happened even before he entered the house, but we're still referring to "after moving in." It had only been a few days that he had lived there, and he had already encountered a "fine chick exhibitionist," as he would say. This, to him, was not odd. It was just hot. Really hot. Today, however, he would finally run across something that was, in one word...odd, pretty much.
Hunter: X?
He walks up the stairs from his shared room with Andy, carefully clutching the guard rail all the way up. It would seem that his "fine ass roommate" is away for a swim in the local swimming pool, which he finds quite "hot." You get the point, I hope? Either way, it has come to the point in the day when he wishes to feast on something, and so when he reaches the top of the stairs, he once again calls for his friend.
Hunter: Where the hell are you!?
Not in the friendliest manner, albeit. When he receives no reply, he sighs, and then walks through a variety of odd little rooms, before stopping in what appears to be X's personal library. The main reason he stopped? In the center of one of the shelves of books is one rather large one simply entitled "How to Kill Jesse Jackson." Hunter blinks once, and then continues walking, simply shaking his head.
Hunter: ...the fuck's the kitchen?
A valid question, it would seem, and one that is answered very quickly when Hunter steps foot into a bright room, complete with refrigerator, cabinets, ovens, sinks, and a large microwave. It would seem that he has found his desired kitchen.
Hunter: Wish I had Andy here to make me a sammich...
All sexism aside, Hunter slowly makes his way over to the fridge, from which he takes a packet of cheese and ham, throwing them casually onto the table in the center of the room. He then takes out a bucket of mayonnaise and closes the door. His next step consists of retrieving a knife and plate, which he does so from the wash directly next to the sink. He looks over what he has acquired, and he realizes that he is missing one every important ingredient.
Hunter: Wait, where's the bread?
Attempting to answer his own question, Hunter walks over to one of the cabinets and opens it up...only to find cereal. He opens another one and finds an assortment of tea, which he looks over briefly before continuing. He reaches the final cabinet and opens it up...to find what the beginning of this segment described as "something odd." It is a single, solitary mongoose, nibbling on what appears to be the upper half of a rat. Yes, you read the right. A mongoose. Eating a rat. Half of one, specifically. Hunter stares at it blankly, only able to speak one word.
Hunter: ...fuck?
This seems to set the creature off, as it promptly glances at him and drops the rat. And just like that, it leaps at him, latching onto his face and throwing him halfway across the room. It proceeds to scratch at him, and Hunter struggles before he is able to finally pull it off of him, only to see it wildly scratch at the air.
Hunter: Jesus Chri---!
It does not take kindly to blasphemies either, as it breaks his hold and charges at him again, letting loose a flurry of punches and kicks...okay, scratches, but it'd make for a better story, eh? Hunter grabs the plate on the table above him and tries to slam it on the mongoose, but the creature is a wee bit too quick for him, and dodges the attack. It charges over to the wash, and Hunter quickly gets to his feet and grabs a nearby knife. When he feels the creature is steady, he throws the knife...but alas, the creature moves out of the way, causing Hunter to silently curse. It then angrily charges at him once more and leaps under his face and into his shirt.
Hunter: OH SHIT!!!
It charges around on both his back and front, and Hunter desperately runs into the wall front first...although by this time, it is on his back. And when Hunter falls back from this painful run, it moves over to his front. It crawls out and stands at one side of the room, hissing at him loudly. Hunter moves his hand over to a nearby frying pan, and the moment that it leaps at him again, Hunter throws the frying pan forward, connecting with it at full force. Hunter gets to his feet and breathes a sigh of relief...only to hear another hiss. He looks at the mongoose and sees that it is perfectly fine, and ready to strike again.
Hunter: ...you've gotta be fucking kidding me.
It leaps yet again...but suddenly a pair of hands emerge out of nowhere, grab it, and throw it into the cabinet where it was once held. The cabinet door slams shut, and a perfectly relaxed FSX turns to Hunter. Hunter breathes heavily and FSX merely blinks at him, and there is a long silence until Hunter finally catches enough breath to utter a single question.
Hunter: WHAT...IN THE FUCK...WAS THAT!?
FSX casually moves his head back and forth, pondering an answer.
FSX: Well, it's not really like you to ask such an obvious question, man. It's a mongoose. You know, member of the Herpestidae family? There really everywhere throughout Asia, quite a common creature. Dominantly in history, they have been related to as the primary predator to snakes, and one of the only creatures that can take down a King Cobra. Interesting, isn't it?
Pause. Hunter simply stares at him blankly.
FSX: His name is Charles!
Hunter: ...Why the fuck do you have a mongoose named Charles living in your goddamn kitchen!?
FSX: Well, as a child growing up in South Korea I've always kind of had an affinity to relate to small catlike creatures, as they were the only types of pets I had. Perhaps I should better explain, you see, my father was a butcher. As my family lacked a certain level of income at the time, me and my brother usually had to play around at his little shop. We tended to spend most of our time out back, as staying in the freezer left us covered in blood and reeking of Rocky.
Hunter: Of what..?
FSX: Of beef. What? That's what I said!! Anyway, well we spent most of our time there, we tried to relate and interact with all of the animals we happened to meet out back. You see, we grew up in a much stupider time, and are parents knew little of disease and famine, so they actually encouraged this. Everytime we brought home an animal, however, my father chopped it up and sent it's meat directly to be sold at McDonald's.
Hunter: But...I loved McDonald's as a kid...
FSX: Well, then you also loved rabies and AIDS as a kid. Moving on though, one day when we were off playing with the creatures, we came along a mongoose. We had no intention of stopping to play with it, but it had such an intense and sinister stare. Being children, we thought that meant that it happened to like us! After being attacked for about twenty minutes, we came home bloody and smiling with our new friend! And just as always, our dad took him to be slaughtered. The only difference on this occasion, however, was that the mongoose fought back.
Hunter: Fought back...?
FSX: Yup! As we both sulked, and tended to our wounds in the back, we heard loud cries of anger and malice coming from the kitchen, we thought of investigating the sounds, but remembered what happened the last time...
Fallen suddenly seems to go pale, tears in his eyes, before he shakes it off. Hunter continues just staring at him, confused.
FSX: So we didn't, basically, but we're tremendously surprised when the mongoose returned from the kitchen, unharmed!
Hunter: Oh...yay...
FSX: We later realized that it had killed our father.
Hunter: Wait....WHAT?!
FSX: Yeah, so for most of the night following this we kind of sat in an uncomfortable silence with it, waiting for our mother to pick us up, an--
Hunter: Hold up a fucking second! Your father was KILLED by a mongoose?! Yet you keep one, in your home?
Fallen nods only once, a small smile on his face, as Hunter simply shakes his head and returns to an expression of bewilderment.
Hunter: Uh...go on, I guess.
FSX: Yup, so my mom picked us up, but seemed to be confused when she didn't see our dad around. When we told her what happened, she kinda reacted the way you just did, and ran in to see our Father's decaying corpse. When she returned, she seemed to be heart broken and confused, and attacked the mongoose. After a long fight, complete with sound effects and popcorn, that neither me or my brother dared interfere with, the mongoose emerged the victor.
Hunter: So it killed your mother too?! Fuck...
FSX: Oh, no no no...it raped my mother, then she killed herself in shame.
Hunter: ...Are...are you on something, X?
FSX: You wanted an explanation, I'm giving you one!!
Hunter: Did any of this..you know..ACTUALLY HAPPEN though?
FSX: No. But it's a hell of alot more entertaining then just telling you it's our pet.
Pause. For a very, very long time. Hunter stands tall and looks down at the mess that was once meant to be a sandwich. He shakes his head and begins to leave the room.
FSX: Wait, where are you going?
Hunter: A fucking Arby's.
And with that, he disappears out of the room, leaving FSX with the responsibility of having to clean up the mess that Hunter has made. But FSX has no problems with that. Which is the exact reason why he too leaves the room, leaving the mess to clean itself. When Hunter recollects this event later, all he can do is ponder just why FSX was so relaxed during this entire encounter. Eventually, Hunter merely settles on the logic of "FSX is the king of weird people." And he'd be right. Hail to the king, baby. End
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on Aug 9, 2007 15:46:30 GMT -5
Segment: Divorce court (Credit: Hitman/FSX)
The focus of the fans is now set firmly on the ring, where a man in a business suit (more than likely of the lawyer race) watches over a table with two chairs on opposite sides. On this particular table rests some papers, the same ones that will seal a certain relationship in ACW forever… The sounds of "Love Is For Suckers" by Twisted Sister hits the arena and the crowd is instantly on their feet, booing the very mention of this man. The jeers double when XS3 steps out from the back, wearing a three-piece business suit and no Entourage in sight. He pauses to soak in the reaction… Needless to say, he feeds off the fans' hatred as he makes his way down the ramp. XS3 finally enters the ring and heads to the second turnbuckle, pausing to soak in some more jeers and taunts. Finally, the song fades out and XS3 takes a mic from a ringside attendant.
XS3: "Wow, you people really are too good to me. Thank you."
Of course, this statement just gets XS3 more jeers.
XS3: "Oh shut up, you clowns wanted to see a great match between BK London and Yoko Satoshi. But the Entourage deprived you of that. When I got to the back, I had to have a laugh. I honestly could not help but grin every time I see that image of BK London getting his ass kicked… which he deserved. He should have known better than to stick his nose in Thunderkiss' business with Freeman!"
The crowd has had enough of XS3's words and they begin the "Shut the fuck up!" chants. XS3 just laughs it off and continues on with what he has to say.
XS3: "Oh, heaven forbid I waste anymore of your precious 'wrestling' time. You dumbass smarks are all the same: You'll ride anyone's jock strap every time they do a backflip. Maybe you'd rather see that hick Fallen Souls in action?"
Finally, XS3 gives the crowd something to cheer about.
XS3: "Well, guess what? He's not coming out here to interrupt the single greatest moment in my life. I have been waiting for days just to do this. This is the moment where I end my relationship with that no-good whore Christine… This is just… I could just cry tears of joy!"
XS3 mockingly falls to his knees and looks up towards the heavens. The crowd is in full throttle jeering now and various insults are being hurled at XS3 left and right. However, one fan makes his voice heard:
Fan: "You suck, XS3!"
For some reason, this causes XS3 to jerk his head towards the fan. He threateningly points at the young fan.
XS3: "Come on in and say that to my face, you little punk."
The fan slowly slumps down in his seat not wanting to instigate something. The other fans then begin to boo XS3 like crazy. It's like the fans are watching their once favorite self-destruct with every passing day. XS3 then looks towards the stage with malice.
XS3: "Now… Tonight marks the first step of recovery from all of these tainted memories. Let's get this over with. Christine! Get your skanky ass down to this ring now! I know you're back there, don't make me--"
Before XS3 can threaten his soon to be ex-wife anymore, a figure is seen making her way from the back and the crowd begins cheering out of pure sympathy. Sure enough, Christine appears onstage and looks toward the ring. XS3 leans forward on the ropes with a look of pure rapture, the rapture of finally separating from the woman who broke his heart. She sighs, not looking forward to any bit of this, before heading down the ramp, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The fans that cheer for her encourage her to "kick XS3's ass". Christine smiles and waves at the fans before walking up the steps and entering the ring. XS3 and Christine stare each other down as the music slowly fades. Christine has no regrets of doing this yet at the same time, she didn't imagine her relationship with XS3 coming to this kind of end. As heartbreaking as it for her, Christine knows what has to be done so she takes a seat and watches XS3 take his seat. The lawyer hands over the pen to XS3, who wastes no time putting it on the paper, signifying that he is ready to divorce.
Christine is then handed the pen and paper. She takes a small amount of time reading it over as XS3 watches her anxiously. Finally, she takes the pen and inhales deeply before placing then pen on the paper. However, she looks up at XS3 for one last time... then takes the papers and rips them in half. The crowd is confused as XS3 stands up from his chair.
Christine: "I'm not doing it."
Christine then stands up from her chair and begins to turn away from the man she once called her husband. However, something stops her; a tight grip is now placed on her wrist and she swiftly turns around to see XS3 holding her wrist, seething once more. Christine starts to cry out and the jeering of the fans begins to resonate throughout the arena once more. XS3 makes his way over to Christine, who is visibly shaken.
XS3: "WRONG MOVE, SUCKA!"
XS3 then brings up Christine on his shoulders in a torture rack style. He eyes the table and grins as the noise from the crowd just increases with every second. It seems that Christine is going for a little ride to "Put Your Ass Through A Table Land" courtesy of the Burning Cradle…
But as the Technicolor display of evil continued to present itself, and there appeared to be no hero to help the previously slutty housewife, the lights suddenly seemed to of been turned off. Many in attendance seem to of been silenced by this, unsure of what was occurring, before 'Bel Air' by Malice Mizer began to play silently, leading XS3 to become quite confused himself, having a look through the darkness at random for his adversary, despite being sure to hold Christine in place, well prepared to drop her through the table despite the distraction. Soon enough, however, the theme begins to die down and fade out, though the lights were still off. This seems to confuse 'The True X' to an even greater extent. All remains silent for a few seconds, before the lights suddenly flash back on, and Christine quickly slips away as XS3's grip loosens considerably, likely from the shock of finding Fallen Souls laying on the table he was about to drive his wife through, a microphone in hand. There are many cheers heard as Christine made her escape from the ring, but a few moments later Irvine seems to comprehend the situation and lunges toward Fallen, just as The REAL X rolled off the table and out of the way.
FSX: "Now now, calm down there. I'm not here with any anger toward the things your doing to your wife-- well, ex-wife I guess. I'd likely do the same, should the same situation of occurred. Probably would of, I don't know, tried to fix things first, and not became a monstrous devil, but that's beside the point."
XS3 appears to be fuming at this, causing Fallen to smirk a bit, before being sure to keep his distance and continue.
FSX: "Now, with that said and dealt with, why don't you run along and leave the woman be. After all, there are many backstage who have 'special' plans to make her feel better. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't do such a thing, I've learned better from Soap Opera's, and Nick Durden..."
At this, XS3 seems to throw the table from his way and take another dash at Fallen, missing by just a second however as FSX managed to roll out of the way.
FSX: "You really have been spending far too much time with Thunderkiss, man. I remember a time you were cool."
XS3: "Shut up! You know nothing about me or what I've had to go through... Besides, why am I wasting my time listening to some washed-up jobber, anyway? I may as well get advice from Gary, at least he's consistent!"
Fallen laughs for a moment as the crowd voices their disapproval, before having a look to those in attendance and shushing them.
FSX: "Is that so? Well, if I remember correctly that the one..and ONLY time that we actually met in the ring, I beat you. Along with fifteen other men. Boo hoo."
XS3: "And if I remember correctly, you left for a year to cut yourself after that."
FSX: "...I don't know why you want me to desperately kick your ass, but if it's your desire, I'll grant it. You deserve as much as getting a good, rousing ass-kicking, after all."
XS3: "I doubt it. You've one what, one match since you've came back? And didn't you cheat? I'm afraid of YOU?!"
This time is appears to be XS3 laughing, a smirk coming to his face as Fallen appears to be growing more frustrated with the situation.
FSX: "I only fight the best. There is NO shame in losing to the best. There IS shame in beating your wife and trying to take over someones identity. WHO honestly tries to take the identity of someone they spend their free time mocking?"
XS3: "I'm stealing nothing. I'm just taking what I deserve and living at the top."
FSX: "You left your wife on the suggestion of someone who did battle with a giant marshmallow. If it was Hunter, it'd be reasonable, but it was Thunderkiss. There really isn't much more to be said here."
Fallen turns away at this point, shaking his head a few times in shame of the man who was standing at the other side of the ring, before hearing XS3 take a charge toward him.
XS3: "Nothing else may need to be said, but it doesn't mean nothing else needs to be done!"
It appears as if Irvine has the intent of nailing Fallen in the back, only to be ducked for the third time since they encountered each other this evening, and on this occasion scooped up into the fireman's carry hold. He seems to be struggling quite a bit, but Fallen is having none of that, soon spinning him to nail a sickening Soul Transfer. XS3's head in seen snapping back a bit upon contact, and he's left groaning and rolling on the mat, as Fallen rolls out of the ring and raises his arms to form an 'X' symbol, smirking quite a bit as he walked up the ramp, not challenged whatsoever as XS3 was incapacitated. He stopped at the top of the ramp, however, still staring toward the backstage area.
FSX: "You can NEVER be anything more then an impostor, XS3. You will ALWAYS only be a little, insignificant X..in comparison to my glory."
Fallen turns to those in attendance once again as 'Bel Air' hits, a more serious expression taking his face as he stares back to the XS3 in the ring, seeing that he had recovered enough to stare him down. FSX simply shook his head, however, and returned to the back a moment later, leaving XS3 to his shame and thoughts. One must wonder, what will occur next in this ongoing struggle of opinions? Will Christine be targeted again by XS3 Irvine's attempts at proving a point? And is Thunderkiss truly a champion of marshmallows? We will have to wait until a later date to discover the answers to these questions, as until then, the show must go on.
Fade out.
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