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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:04:42 GMT -5
Thursday Night Meltdown May 15th 2008
ACW Spring Tour 2008 – The Road to Omega Effect IV Bologna, Italy Land Rover Arena – 5,700
Schedule of Matches: ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AC Evans vs. Wayde Russler
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'Showtime' Ryan Cooper vs. Dan White
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Nick Durden vs. Rattlesnake
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Jerome Carter w/BK London vs. Mickey Flamingo w/Adrian Flamingo - Strap Match
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Aiden Joseph vs. Jay Zero - ACW Championship - Lumberjack Match
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:06:52 GMT -5
With more moves than Sarin and Aiden on Dancing with the Stars- THE WEEK IN REVIEW Credit: Showtime, Jon Taylor
Does anyone still watch that show? It was horrible? And with the black hole of talent that is Aiden Joseph there, poor Sarin’s bound to lose and chance she has of winning. Anyway, you know how it goes. Since this is an international Week in Review, Showtime’s set up in the middle of the ring sitting behind his desk with a background that has the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the background. Since this is Italy, you know he has to wearing his finest Armani suit. However, something was slightly different.. There’s a strange wooden chair with wires coming out of it.
Narrator: The Week in Review! Brought to you by Chris Williams Boot Camp! Learn how to be a backyard wrestler with zero chance of success from the best: Chris Williams! Chris Williams Boot Camp is only available at Target. And by Ghettoade! Kick that whack-ass Orange Juice to the curve, and sip on some shizznit with some real flava.. GHETTOADE!!
Showtime: Man, everyone morning, I wake up and drink some red flavored Ghettoade.. and look in the mirror to see how fly I am. Anyway, welcome to the Week in Review! This is your Entertainment Champion “Showtime” Ryan Cooper, and I have my usual guest joining me at this time.. Jon Taylor!
Applause could be heard in the empty arena as “Revolution Begins” by Arch Enemy plays, both Jon Taylor and Iron Jaw enter the ring, shaking the hand of their fellow Second Coming stablemate. Showtime has a wide smile plastered on his face, which usually means that he’s plotting something, but Taylor really doesn’t pay it any mind. He knows that an invitation to the Week in Review is free television time to rant on anyone he wants to on the roster!
Showtime: Welcome, dawg. Take a seat over there.
Taylor: What happened to the couch, Showtime? Why are you giving me this shitty old chair?
Begrudgingly, Taylor takes his seat, and almost immediately, Iron Jaw handcuffs his wrist to the chair. Taylor’s trying his damnedest to get up, but Showtime rushes in to hold him down as Iron Jaw finishes securing Taylor.
Taylor: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!
Iron Jaw: This is for your own good.
Showtime: Hell yeah! I’m gonna break you out of your ranting one way or another.
Taylor: Like fuck you are! Why, it's insulting that you'd even think of trying such a thing. I outta kick your ass right now!
Both Showtime and Iron Jaw sigh, and the big black guy that looks like Moses places a strange metal apparatus on Taylor’s head. With one press of a button by Showtime, Taylor’s given one helluva electric shock that causes him to twitch violently as Iron Jaw left Showtime to handle the taming of the beast.
Taylor: What the fuck?! Son of a bitch!
Showtime: Dude, I told you that we’re gonna have to keep that temper of yours in check. Now, if you start to rant and shit without stopping, you’re gonna get another one of those.[/color]
Taylor: You pussy! Go to hell! My tempers fine, just fine! I know why this is, it's because Taylor's Timeout gets higher ratings than this shit! Well, there's a reason for that Showtime, it's because I don't pull stupid shit like this! The viewers don't want to see The Ultimate Competitor being censored, that's right CENSORED! They want to be able to listen to all my magnificent intellect!
Showtime: You’re one stubborn bastard! And now it’s time for the Week in Review!
Showtime presses the button as the card finally shows up on the big screen, the buzzing sound of a man being shocked as clear as the light of day being heard.
These guys are on the payroll? Fuck it, curtainjerk them: AC Evans vs. Wayde Russler
Showtime: Man, I didn’t know that Wayde Russler still around.
Taylor: God damn it! You do that one more time I'll hand you your own ass on your own show, how's that for ratings?!
Showtime: Chill, man. As long as you just stick to analyzing the matches without going into one of those tirades that you’re o’ so famous for, er’thang’s copasetic, dawg.
Taylor: Fine. They're both nobodies who can go to hell. The end.
Showtime: That… was real in-depth, man, but I can’t argue with you there. Seriously, who gives a crap about these guys? Sure, AC’s getting some rave reviews, but for what? The dude looks like Blaine Stone 2.0, and we all know what happened to him.
Taylor: Oh, so you’re telling me that AC Evans is going to end up with half a nose just like Blaine Stone did? That's sound just fine to me!
Showtime: Well, I’m hoping that Russler shows him what ACW’s all about, but lets be serious. Wayde Russler hasn’t been booked for like the last two months. Safe to say that there’s not much to expect here except for a lot of fans going to the concessions.
FIRST TIME EVER MEETING: 'Showtime' Ryan Cooper vs. Dan White
Showtime: The entertainment champion vs the man with many names, the latest being Aiden Joseph’s bitch. Danny boy, Danny boy. You’ve been so busy trying to get your revenge on Aiden only to choke once you get him in the ring… Not only that, but he got a restraining order on your ass! And you’re not getting any kind of break here because you go one on one against the muthafuckin’ Show! The good news is that you’ll be in a spectacular match against the current and the best Entertainment champion that this company’s ever had. The bad news is that you’ll be going one on one against the current and best Entertainment champion that this company’s ever had. The daredevil’s last ride is here. The Welsh Dragon will be slain. Dan White will be taken out of commission. Showtime is the true tactician in ACW, and that hooligan’s fifteen minutes of fame is up.. However, it’s always Showtime. JT, how was that.
Taylor: It sucked more than your mother on a Friday Night in the Ghetto.
Showtime: You lil’ bitch..
Showtime gives Taylor another shock, just out of spite.
Taylor: What the fuck, man?!
Showtime: Well, I feel better. Next match, turkeys!
The lesser of the wrestling snakes: Nick Durden vs. Rattlesnake
Showtime: Seeing how I don’t watch any of these guys’ promos, I’ll let you handle this, man.
Taylor: And you expect me to know who these nobodies are also? Well, apparently Tiny Cheng is banging Durden's sister, and him being Asian and all that can't exactly look good for the Durden family can it? All I know about Snake is I kicked his ass backed in January!
Showtime: In other words, Durden has a slight edge on Snake in this one. And you can take that to Banana 101.5, turkey!
ACW Booking at its finest: Jerome Carter w/BK London vs. Mickey Flamingo w/Adrian Flamingo - Strap Match
Showtime: Man, are you as disgusted in this match as I am?
Taylor: They've been feuding for like fucking 6 months now, haven't they heard the definition of "stale"? Well, they obviously haven't because then this shit would of been off the show months ago!
Showtime: But we all know why this lame ass feud is still getting screentime.. Politics at its finest. You have two guys that just got brought in because they’re related to main eventers in a match that’s near the top of the card, yet they have Showtime in the mid-card? Did you see my promo in Brazil?! Jerome Carter can’t rap! Chairman Gingersnap, this is some ol’ boolshit!
Taylor: I'm surpised at you even bothering to say that, Showtime. I mean come on, we both know how Gingertwat loves BK London, the only reason this isn't the Main Event is because Metro man Aiden is defending his title to Zero. Yes, that's right Jay Zero! The man I beat not only once, but TWICE last month! And your telling me that he deserves a shot at the World Title over me when he hasn't even beat me? What utter bullshit! Gingertwat favoritism at it's fucking finest!
Showtime: Um.. Jon, chill out.
Taylor: No, your can shock me all you fucking want, this is bullshit! Zero couldn't beat X, he couldn't beat me...hell he couldn't even beat Senator and yet he's got a World Title shot at Aiden Joseph?! Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!
Showtime simply sighs and finally gives up, walking away from the ring and leaving Taylor handcuffed as the Week in Review ends, the last scene on the camera being Taylor alone in the center of the ring with no way of escaping from the chair.
Taylor: ....Bullshit!
-Fade-
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:10:09 GMT -5
Segment: Those were the days... (Credit: BK London)
As we return back from commercial, BK London appears to be sitting his locker room, watching what appears to be the final moment of the main event on Warfare with Jason Freeman and Jake Cheng dismantling Jake Steele and Danny Mainer. Before the post match segment is even over, BK London turns off the television in disgust.
BK London: Ugh, could you believe this filth is ending Warfare? We've really gone downhill.
Jerome Carter walks out from the kitchen area of BK London's locker room with a bottle of yellow vitamin water in hand before planting himself on the couch right next to his uncle.
Jerome Carter: What did you expect? When you've got a main event like Jon Taylor and Showtime versus Danny Mainer and Jake Steele, you're bound to be jumping the shark in some way. All I know is, when I start main eventing shows, we're going to reach new highs on the ratings scale that we've never reached before.
BK London: Is that right?
Jerome Carter: Absolutely right.
BK London: Hehe, back in the Golden Era of ACW, you wouldn't have lasted a day here..
Jerome Carter: Oh god, not one of those "Back when I was ACW Champion rants..."
BK London: Back when I was ACW Champion...
Jerome Carter: Oh son of a..
BK London: I had this altercation with this young school girl named Yoko Satoshi. Boy was that one hell of a feud. You see, she used to have a crush me - everyone woman had a BK London, I was the epitome of sexy and I still am. Tall, dark, handsome - who could resist me? Huh? No one, that's who.
Jerome Carter sighs.
BK London: ...so anyway, she had a crush on me - but after Bloody Valentine I said "You know what, I'm married, I can't have you digging me like this honey".
Jerome Carter: That's not how I heard it going down?
BK London: No one asked you. So as I was saying, I decided to let her off easy. So the crazy bitch comes after me with a vengeance. I kidnapped her stuffed bunny rabbit - which was possesed by the way - so she kidnaps me and shoves bloody tampons down my mouth. Don't ever get bloody tampons shoved down your throat boy, it's a really really tart kind of taste, but it kinda tastes like...
Jerome Carter: OK OK! I get it.
BK London: So I kick her lame boyfriend's ass and then I find myself in a match with her at Genocide. Then, after everyone and their momma comes in to interfere - she manages to sneak one out and gets her first World Title on my EXPENSE.......boy, those were the good ol' days.
Jerome Carter: You call getting a bloody tampon down your throat the good ol' days?
BK London: It's surprisingly easier to stomach than a Lou The Cameraman segment.
Jerome ponders for a few seconds.
Jerome Carter: That is true.
BK London: It's a shame. I'm like one of the last living dinosaurs here.
Jerome Carter: Well Beakasaurus Rex, I've got a match to prepare for, so I'll see you out in the ring.
BK London: Alright, train hard.
And with that Jerome Carter exits the locker room to leave BK London sitting alone.
Are the days of him being champion really just memories now?
Fade Out.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:13:18 GMT -5
Segment: Lesson Three (Credit: AK)
Ah, you’re back. Please forgive me if I come over as rather abrupt or terse in these asides; it’s merely that I find that 90% of everything people say is entirely unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. Most people hide behind their words, or say things which they feel they ought to say, rather than expressing what they feel. I’m not like that; I prefer to get my information from, shall we say, more reliable sources.
When I last allowed you a glimpse of my thoughts, you should recall that I’d just undergone a radical shift in my self-perception. In simple terms, I stopped thinking of myself as some sort of trainee, or understudy to another person’s part in the continuous script of time. I wanted to be a wrestler, so I had to begin acting and thinking like one. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t learning any longer; my favourites amongst you will have already grasped the fact that in one sense we are always growing, maturing, progressing-
??: HIT’IM! GO’AHN, MY SON!
My quiet contemplation is cut in half by the sound of over-enthusiastic television spectating by the stocky, balding man perched on the couch on the other side of the room. On the “goggle-box” as it is frequently and mystifyingly referred to around here, two men are attacking one another with oversized cotton buds. After about five seconds of this, one of them falls off of the little platform he is standing on. The crowd on the screen roar their approval as the implausibly-muscled survivor poses. Ron nods, clearly satisfied with this turn of events.
Ron: That’s showin’ im. That Spartan bloke’s got a pair, no bovver.
I would chuckle at this, if it were my style to be so easily amused. Instead I simply make eye contact with Ron’s brother, who is reclining in an armchair with a beer and scratching absent-mindedly at his groin in a manner which suggests he is actually relaxed for once.
Reg: He thinks he’s bleedin’ Randy Orton. I keep expecting half an hour of chinlocks. Then again, this Gladiators lark is for people who find wrestling too cerebral and monochrome…
??: Have you lot moved my herbs?
Ron, to his credit, attempts to give this question half a second’s consideration as Mrs. Laureano enters the room, carrying a bag of potting compost and a trowel.
Ron: Um, er…. HANG TOUGH! Fan-bloody-tastic.
Ron’s attention is lost to the hypnotic effects of the female Gladiator’s breasts. Reg just shrugs.
Reg: Don’t look at me, I stopped doing Skunk years ago.
The lady of the house rolls her eyes, and walks around the back of the couch and past me. I follow her visually, noticing the way she carries herself, even when at ease. It’s the kind of effortless precision which I admire, and which I know I must take entirely into myself to reach the place I have in mind.
“The box is out on the garden table, I think”.
Our eyes meet, and she smiles. I don’t smile back noticeably; I guess you could say it’s just a quirk I have. But if you did say that, you’d be wrong; it’s far more than that. It’s one of the many small things which makes me different from others. Different from you.
And for the record, the thing which makes her different is the fact that she doesn’t show any sign of confusion, or hurt at this. She simply accepts it, without expecting me to conform to some pre-determined norm. If I’m honest, that was part of the reason it took me six weeks to make the third and final breakthrough.
As soon as I started treating myself as an actual wrestler and not some amateur, my “instructors” changed their attitudes as well. Now that I was seeing myself on their level, I was invited out for a drink or two, or around for dinner; there was never any pressure on me to accept these invitations, so gradually I became a little more comfortable in a less formal situation, to the point that we would occasionally hang out together of an evening. I got to meet Victor Laureano, too; he was a little cool at first, which is entirely understandable, but we had a discreet conversation and he soon overcame his concerns in that regard. I benefited greatly from some additional instruction from him, and even got to view the wall of Hispanic Heroes, now safely ensconced in a spare room at the Laureano household. It was all starting to come together.
All the training I’d done before this time was far from pointless; in fact, now it began to come into its own, as I went into sparring matches ready to fight and win. I started feeling my own strength, and so did they; I found the techniques to ride out Ron’s sustained bursts of pure power, learned to block and counter Reg’s more measured mash-up of boxing and brawling. I even found that I could out-run Alicia herself, and execute smooth move and counter move as I pleased. In fact, there was only one problem…
No matter what I did, I just couldn’t get a three count against her. Sometimes I was on a losing run right from the start; other times I had the upper hand the entire time, only to have my world brought crashing down at the last moment. I couldn’t see what I was doing wrong; more often than not, I guessed what Alicia was going to do to end a match just before it actually happened. And yet, with all my speed – my most deadly weapon, the reason I’m here to tell you this tale – I just couldn’t finish what I started.
I tried to work it out, it gnawed away at me. It might have driven me to distraction, but I had one other option, and I decided to take it. So after the longest session yet and with six sparring matches lost, I asked the question.
“Why can’t I defeat you?”
We looked at one another for the longest time before she spoke.
”It’s all to do with the endgame, Kai.”
I must have looked totally confused at this point. I don’t know what answer I expected, but it certainly wasn’t something so baffling.
”You wrestle the way most people wrestle; you think in a linear fashion, my friend. Every time you enter this ring, I can see your mind whirring, trying to figure me out, trying to spot the signs that I’m about to make an error which you can capitalise on. You are constantly searching for the opportunity which you think will bring you the win. Am I right?”
“Of course.”
”Your problem, Kai, is that you are expecting an opportunity to just appear, you are certain that I’ll do something you can take advantage of. Invariably such a moment occurs, you score a neat strike or get behind me, and then you’re excited; you’re running the show, you’re getting those hits in. But you’re missing a crucial element…You’re assuming, unconsciously perhaps, that I want to avoid taking damage, so to speak. But that’s a fallacy which has undone many, many of my opponents…”
She pauses there, licking her top lip – there is just the merest hint of something sensual in her unfocused gaze before she looks directly at me again.
”I’m not placing myself in the same category as certain people I could introduce you to. There are those within our profession whose sole joy is the experience and infliction of suffering; and I’m nowhere near in that league. But there are times, oh yes, when I have thrived on the pain others have visited upon me; when every part of my body sings with acid and my brain is flooded with a hormonal rush, I have never felt quite so alive – and that’s when I can take hold of the match and direct it to the conclusion I want. Do you see? Just when you believe you are at your strongest, you are actually at your most vulnerable. You think you have control, but you don’t. You think opportunity is yours for the taking, but you’re just playing out the final part of a scenario which I have been leading you to from the very beginning. I start with the endgame, the point of my victory, and work inexorably toward it - and you play right into my hands.”
I felt a little numb at that point. It sounded crazy, but the more I thought about it, the more I could see the paradox resolving itself. I must have clenched my fists; I felt like such a fool. It was an emotion I needed, and Alicia did not try to comfort me, or soothe my anger at myself; gradually it began to ebb, and as it did I felt as though the scales were at last being lifted from my eyes.
“I would like to challenge you once more.”
That seventh and last fight went on for almost ten minutes without a break. She held nothing back; I felt as if I were swimming against a vicious current. But I kept one aim, and one aim only in my head, formed a picture of it, and kept moving doggedly toward it. I must have endured seven or eight near-falls, far more than in any previous encounter where I’d purposely tried to avoid them. I refused to give up.
When I finally reached my final move, I executed the “Black Flag” precisely as I had visualised it. I’d succeeded in delivering the move before, but this was different – not necessarily more powerful, but it was an act of absolute will. The three count didn’t seem to register straight away, but I knew from Reg’s face that something had changed, permanently.
Alicia shook my hand; about half an hour later, I heard her making a phone call while I was coming out of the gym showers. I had a pretty good idea who she was speaking to.
Fifteen minutes after that, we had set the date. I have found my way through my personal journey of discovery, and the road ahead is straight and clear… just the way I like it.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, I would not be starting my road trip alone….
Fade.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:15:28 GMT -5
Segment: “Everything Changes but You” Credit: Jay Zero, ~Aj [Keeping a low profile tonight, Aiden Joseph has stayed within the comfy confines of his locker room for most of the show. Paranoid at what others may think of his appearance, he has no intentions of giving anyone a chance to form an opinion one way or another. However, even a bear has to come out of his cave once and a while, and with an urge to discuss tonight’s security plans with Thunder Train, Aiden comes out of hibernation. As he carefully journeys to his destination, he hopes that the ol’ “Joseph luck” will take a vacation tonight. With a turn into the main hallway, his hopes are dashed.] Zero: Oh hey Libs – look who it is! My good ole’ pal Aiden Joseph! [/color] [Aiden turns in the direction of the commotion and sees Jay Zero and tag team partner Libertines standing before him. It has been almost a month ago since their union faltered, but in the life of Aiden Joseph a month might as well be a year. Staring into his former friend’s very distinguishable face, Aiden is actually having trouble remembering his name. Considering the champion’s history of forgetfulness when it comes to Jay Zero, this will most definitely not be received kindly.] Aiden Joseph: Um, hello? And you are? Zero: Heh. You’re quite the comic aren’t you? Drop the act, shithead. [/color] Aiden: I’m a busy man, I can’t remember everything. Zero: ….Wow. You really DON’T know do you? Holy shit, YOU ARE SERIOUSLY A PIECE OF WORK, DO YOU KNOW THAT?! [/color] Aiden: Care to refresh my memory? Zero: Hahaha! You --- You really are a coldhearted, conceited piece of shit aren’t you?! [/color] [Face now crimson red, Zero rushes right into the chest of the world champion so he has no trouble hearing his forthcoming history lesson.] Zero: Well maybe this will ring a bell in that hollow dome of yours! I’m that guy you used to get drunk with! That guy that used to back up every decision you made because that’s what a real friend does! I’m that guy that’s beaten you for the Entertainment title, and pulled one over you again last month! Anything yet? Hm? No? Well I’m that guy that you decided to call trash and publicly humiliate! I’m that guy that’s been just absolutely dying to get his hands on you and actually get something sweeter than just a win. I want revenge! I’m the guy that wants to slap you out of that daydream you’ve been stuck in so that you realize who you really are! In other words, I’m that guy that’s been haunting your dreams Aiden! And since you’re too much of a meathead to even remember one of your best friends – then I’m Jay Zero! The one that used to look up to you before you--- you turned into ….. [/color] [Zero takes two very animated steps backwards and throws both hands outward at Aiden, palms facing up.] Zero: Into … THIS! [/color] [Looking extremely apathetic to everything he has just heard, Aiden readjusts his tie and proclaims the end of his ignorance.] Aiden: Zero. Oh yes, how have you been? Zero: Oh just GREEEAAAT. Really. I love when I ruin a good ten months of my career on an asshole who just cares about himself. Heh – this can’t even be real right now. [/color] [Oh but it is.] Aiden: Wow, you seem very upset. I’m afraid to say though that I’m terribly busy at the moment so if you wish to engage in a spat right now you’ll have to get in line, or better yet, take a number. [/color] Zero: Oh don’t you even worry about that! Trust me, if it were up to me, I’d sure as hell do whatever I could to make myself next in line! [/color] Aiden: Terrific! Take care Zeke. [Aiden gives Zero a very condescending pat on the shoulder and begins to walk away. Always observant, Zero can’t help but notice the surgical tape that lays above Aiden’s eye. Fully aware of the events from the past show and always the instigator, Jay gives Mr. Joseph a very unfriendly reminder of the imperfection that dwells on his face.] Zero: Oh – wait, hey big guy! Before you go! I just … I HAVE to compliment you on that new look of yours though. I mean – wow! I absolutely LOVE that little scar you got going on right there! The tape REALLY goes with those khakis! Hahaha! [/color] [Aiden freezes in mid stride. Incensed at what he just heard, he turns and prepares a very important lesson for Zero; those who are flawed should never talk down to those who aren’t.] Aiden: IF YOU LIKE IT SO MUCH LET’S GIVE YOU ONE TO MATCH! ~!~SLAM~!~ [The champion rushes Zero and clamps both hands around his neck. With a tug upwards, Zero is lifted up off the floor and Aiden’s momentum sends his back sailing into a nearby wall. Now pinned and struggling to fill his lugs with air, Aiden informs Zero that tonight is his “lucky” night.] Aiden: Congratulations, you just moved up the list![Joseph releases his fingers from Jay’s neck causing him to take a slumping position on the floor. As Zero watches him walk away, the resentment brewing inside begins to boil over. For months he stood by Aiden’s side and considered him to be his best friend. Now, the man doesn’t even know he exists. Tonight he is determined to make sure that Aiden never, EVER forgets the name of Jay Zero again and taking his ACW World Title for his own would certainly do just that.] [FADE]
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:15:42 GMT -5
Title: I Watch The Stars..(Credit: A.C. Evans)
We fade up to the scene of a beautiful skyline. The stars shine brightly. It's something that you would witness only once in a lifetime. The sight of such beauty is enough to make any man feel peaceful and calm. We see a man sitting down in the middle of a field. Flowers surround him, but he doesn't seem to notice them. He just looks up in the sky, not taking his eyes off of the stars. We come to find that it is, in fact, A.C. Evans. A.C. has certainly made a splash in ACW, as he has soon become known as the strangest man to ever step foot in the ACW. No one knows anything about his history yet. No one knows where he came from or anything of the sorts. Many find him to be a haunting person. Perhaps, a man without a soul..
A.C. Evans:[/color] As human beings, you all look up to the sky in search for many things. For guidance, for beauty, for peace. I find this to be somewhat odd, considering the fact that what we see in the sky is not there anymore. Hilarious, in actuality. You look up to the sky for guidance, when in fact..what you see is a mirage. But when there is an actual person, a living breathing person standing in front of you offering you guidance, what do you do? You turn it down. You turn around and forget that I exist. I stand here day in and day out and offer you my thoughts. I offer you a chance to live. Yet, you people wish to remain dead. So be it. Look up to the sky for something that is no there.
He finally removes his eyes from the stars and looks directly in front of him. He doesn't look into the camera however. He continues looking at everything around him.
A.C. Evans:[/color] Wayde Russler. My opponent tonight. He has the chance to do great things in his life, if only he were living. So, tonight..I help this man walk upon the dead. His soul will be taken, and he truly will live. He will accomplish great things, only when his soul has escaped from his body. You see, a man body's is a temple and when you dip your feet into the cesspool of sin, you hurt your temple. The temple is tarnished and your soul is hurt. Let your soul be free by ending the sin, and you're one of us. Wayde, prepare yourself for tonight. Your eyes will be open...I promise this to you.
A.C. Evans stands up and walks away from the field....
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:17:06 GMT -5
Segment: Illusion of Success (Credit: FSX) Paris, France 5/12/08 Following Warfare... Has your value ever been called into question? Likely the answer to this question is yes, but more often then not it is by yourself. On the rare occasion then someone else decides to brand you eternally in a position that you have done everything possible to distance yourself from, it's no surprise you may just become angry. In fact, the cruel and disheartening words that can commit some to the confines of alcoholism and addiction as an escape to their misery can motivate others, especially if those others happen to be nearing those limits themselves. It can strike one in a fury of rage if the situation is right, and perhaps even a eternal vendetta for crushing the dreams that someone may of held. There are all too many possibilities of how one may react to being labeled weak and useless by someone of authority over them, but you can only wish that it somehow turns out for the best of all parties. Such a thing is usually impossible, however. In a situation such as this it is often designed to leave one person involved doomed...Seeing how things have been going of late, it should come as no surprise that Fallen is likely marching with determination to his termination. Regardless, it should be quite the trip.FSX: I've just had enough of all of this! Constantly being put down for reasons of biased opinion...it's stupid! I deserve the chances that everyone else gets, and I've earned them! Haven't I?! Well?! Looking around in a blatant attempt to get reassurance from someone in the surrounding area, it quickly became quite apparently that Fallen had actually be talking to himself for the moment. As he continued his mad march for change, he took a note of an intern who appeared to be in the process of grabbing a cup of coffee. Perfect!FSX: You there! Young lad! What day is this? Intern: Uh...Well, it's not Christmas. Sorry. FSX: What..?! No, idiot! It's the day that I get my redemption! The day that Ginger finally realizes the error of his ways and rewards me the chance to become World Champion! Intern: Oh...well, if you say so. FSX: That's right I do! Don't you agree with me, lad? Do you want to join my protest group and help me take down this dictatorship....OF EVIL! Quite flustered and unsure what to do with this situation as he began to stutter and fumble around with the coffee he was making, Fallen could only scoff in disgust at this! Why would a distinguished graduate student lower themselves to the point where they are making coffee for a man of pure evil? It made absolutely no sense!FSX: Come with me! It's your only hope to regain your dignity! Intern: I'm pretty sure I lost that back when I accepted an internship that would have me helping out a bunch of crazy roid users. FSX: What was that? What foul and horrendous things did you just say? Intern: It's true. I've seen the specials, and I've heard the stories. Your all going to die of heart attacks before your forties and be mourned by a bunch of sweaty nerds. Humming to himself silently as he seemed to have stopped his anger completely and allowed him to enter a rather relaxed state, he looked to the intern with a smile. It appeared the boy was quite pleased to finally be speaking up about his opinion and having his voice heard by the world! Unfortunately it was a rather insulting one, and Fallen wasn't about to stand for it. Casually strolling over to him as he had turned his attention back to the coffee, Fallen tapped him once on the shoulder and took a casual hold of the mug of coffee that the Intern had just filled. Taking a good look at it and having a sip, he nodded a few times in approval of his taste. Well, this seems to be going quite well! In fact, perhaps they were going to have a peaceful debate over the comments that he made...wait..no..it seems that Fallen has decided to smash the mug over the poor lads face. As he cries out in the horrific scolding pain, Fallen can only nod once happily to himself and continue on his way!Intern: MY EYES! My...MY PRECIOUS EYES! FSX: Let that be a lesson to you! Now if you don't mind, I've got to go and change the world! Yeah! Raising an arm for his own self-motivation, Fallen returned to his stride of wonder. One should already know just where he was headed, though there is no real set idea as to how Ginger will end up reacting to this. One has to imagine that he will fire Fallen on the spot for his insufferable disobedience, and there is likely a pool going on between some who work backstage! Either way, it likely won't be very long now! Fallen has already made it into the only hallway that Ginger's office could possibly be in, and as he evaded stepping on the path of rose petals, he found what was clearly his office! Now was the time! But...was he ready for this...? No more time for waiting! As he knocked boldly at his door, it was time for everyone to discover what would happen!FSX: Ginger! Hey! I need to have a word with you! You know what this is about, and I'm not leaving until you listen to logic! There is quite the ruckus heard through the wall, as various curses and scowling are made audible. One has to imagine that Ginger has better things to be doing at this point then dealing with another of Fallen's protests, but it seems that this one just wasn't going to die easily for him. Imaging that he can do away with this whole matter quickly if he just let Fallen in and listened to his pointless protests once again, he quickly made his way to the door and swung it open, waving for Fallen to enter. It seemed as if Ginger had no intent of letting anyone see what he had in his office, and likely for good reason! As Fallen slowly made his way into the room, his eyes lit up as if he had just wandered into a candy shop! It was like a palace! As his eyes ate in the wonder, Ginger quickly slammed the door and made his way back to his desk. He was already agitated, and that wasn't a good sign.Ginger: What is it now, Fallen?! I thought we were done with all of this nonsense already! FSX: Eesh...did they design this place for Tony Montana or something? Ginger: Focus! What the hell are you here for? I've got better things to do then listen to you try desperately to come up with a good reason to receive the shot at Omega Effect! FSX: Huh..? Oh, well then you have nothing to worry about! This time I have nothing but the finest idea that you ever heard, and it proves without shadow of a doubt that I am the only person qualified to battle Aiden! Clearly not about to let the fabulous decor distract him from the only reason that he made this march to begin with, Fallen slowly made his way over to the desk of the Chairman. As he seemed to be quite deliberate with his moments, as if he wanted to let it sink in that he was bound for the Main Event, Ginger could only become more irritated with him. Just as it looked about time that the Chairman simply snap and reach for a pistol that may or may not be hidden in his desk, Fallen finally got on with it! So what was this genius idea..?FSX: You can't say no to this, Ginger. In fact, there are actually rules that demand you listen to what I say and agree with me! Ginger: I have the power to change the rules. I'll do whatever the hell I see fit, now tell me what this is all about! Well?! FSX: Alright! It's simple...Steve is no longer in good health. In fact, the injury that he sustained during that soccer match made him resign from the Main Event of Omega Effect. Seeing that he need an inevitable replacement, I read through the large book of rules to see if this could assist me in any possible way...Low and behold, I happened to find something that makes me the only possible choice. Ginger: What?! Out with it already! A look of triumph and wonder growing on Fallen's face as he hears these words, he seems to be very proud of whatever it is that he's discovered. Clearly having run out of any patience with this situation however, Ginger slams his fist on his desk and gets up from the fabulous throne he was seated on. Glaring a certain death at Fallen and clearly prepared to call his personal security, Fallen simple smiles and laughs to himself.FSX: If the winner of the Fallen Heroes Battle Royale is unable to participate in the Omega Effect Main Event for reasons of injury, the runner up is rewarded the spot in his place. Ginger: ...Damn it... FSX: Well, if I remember correctly... I was the runner up! Based off that logic, it seems that I'M in the Main Event! Ginger: ...You know what? No. That's just not going to happen. It's not going to work that way! FSX: Yes!! I knew you'd understand! I can't wa...wait, what? As his celebration was suddenly cut off pre-emptively, Fallen could only look to Ginger in a moment of shock as he tilted his head confused. What was going on now? If he read the book of rules right, he should be in that match! How could things not go his way now?!Ginger: Technically everyone who didn't win that match was the runner up. By that, we should be holding another Battle Royale! FSX: What..?! NO! Fuck that! You give me my shot, and you give it to me now! I've earned it! I've done everything by the damn books! I want my shot! Ginger: Watch your tongue, Fallen. I can still fire you if I feel like it! But I'll tell you what...since it would take too much work to simply put together a new Battle Royale, I'll let you fight for the shot. One on one. How does that sound? FSX: Sounds perfect...but what's the catch? Ginger: There isn't one. As long as you show up before the end of Warfare and sign the contract, you'll get your spot in the match! Congratulations! Extending his hand as a devilish smirk arose on his face, Fallen didn't seem to know just what he should do when presented with such a bizarre situation. Could this really be true...or was it all a trick? Not about to deny such an offer regardless, Fallen slowly reached forth and shook the hand of Ginger. He could only look as the Chairman seemed so pleased with the situation, and could feel his stomach turn at the ill intent in his eyes..but there was nothing that could be done about it. Turning around as everything he had come there for was rewarded to him, Fallen looked over his shoulder quite a few times as he made his way to the door and his impending exit. Something just felt wrong..but what was it? Not about to stress on the details for now, he'd just need to be very careful when preparing his trip and be sure to make it there on time. After all, if he did he couldn't be stopped! Right...?
If only things were so easy...
Fade to black.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:17:48 GMT -5
Title: I Saw The Stars Fall...(Credit: A.C. Evans)
We fade up to the scene of A.C. Evans standing in the same field once again. Still looking up at the night sky, not looking at the camera. He slowly walks through the field, not taking his eyes off of the sky. Could it be the darkness that has consumed him? Or perhaps he is still entranced by the stars? Continuing to look at the stars, A.C. Evans speaks.
A.C. EVANS:[/color] You're no one, Wayde. You're from no where. You've done nothing with your career. Furthermore, you've done nothing with your life. Until today...
He continues to casually stroll through the field. He continues to look up at the stars, not making eye contract with the camera.
A.C. EVANS:[/color] Now, you're life has meaning. The ending of your soul is near. Are you prepared to make this sacrifice? Regardless of if you're ready or not, it's going to happen. I bid you adieu...
Suddenly, with those short words, the scene quickly fades to black. How very odd...
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:18:16 GMT -5
Segment: Come On - Part 3 (Credit: Nick Durden)
"Come on Without you I'll never feel the love inside of me Come on You know that we belong Come on, come on, come on come on" - "Come On" by Ben Jelen
When Nick Durden was told to report to Orlando, Florida to go on a PR run, he never thought much of it. He figured he eye the beach honeys, soak in some rays, maybe even try to get lucky with that chick who plays Jasmine at Disneyland. But as is most things in life, they never really are that simple. Not even 12 hours ago, Renix Williams, the very woman who, not even nine months ago, tore out his heart and stepped all over it, just rematerialized into his life and hit him with the proposal that they get back together. Nick had always been one to welcome surprises, but the surprises he usually thought about were his Yankees winning another World Series or Kim Jong Il actually buying a pair of normal-looking sunglasses, nothing quite on this scale.
Luckily for Nick, he's had a firm support system for the span of virtually his entire life to help him through situations just like this. His older brother, Matt, a renowned psychologist in the Seattle area, was in town for a symposium, and Nick was about to cash in on a lifetime membership to the Matthew Durden Clinic. Exploitation? Perhaps, but Nick did hook him up with tickets to that Asia concert, so Matt owes him anyway.
The two brothers sit in a Starbucks, currently relatively empty and quiet, as it has not yet been hit by the typical morning rush. Nick is finishing up his retelling of the events of last night.
Nick: ...so yeah. As you can see, I'm in quite a pick-pick-pickle.
Matt scratches his clean-shaven chin a few times with his index finger while puckering his lips and staring off intently into the distance.
Matt: Hmmmmmm...
More sitting, more staring.
Matt: Well, Nick, while I will say that it's nice to see you, I have to admit it's fairly troubling that you only come to me when you want something from me. How come you never--
Nick: Ah bah bah bah! Save me the guilt trip for when I forget Aunt Bootsy's birthday.
Matt: I keep telling you, it's November 26, certainly not that difficult to remember.
Nick: Yeah, yeah, alright, April 15, whatever. I'm in a crisis here. Ya mind?
Matt can't help but scoff teasingly.
Matt: It's good to see you haven't lost your flair for overdramatization in your time of "crisis."
Nick: Well...you smell funny.
Matt: ( chuckling ) All right, I'll help you, if nothing else, simply because you're my brother, or maybe because I haven't had a good laugh in a while.
Matt takes a sip from his coffee and exhales as he gets ready to work his touchy-feely magic.
Matt: Nick, I'll admit to you that my job is just as much about asking questions as it is about answering them.
Nick: I don't quite follow.
Matt: What is it you don't understand?
Nick: Well, I mean--WATE A MINURT! Come on, man, be serious for a moment.
Another hearty chuckle from Matt. He's quite satisfied he can still mess with Nick's mind after all these years, though, perhaps it can be argued that it isn't too hard of a task anyway.
Matt: In all seriousness, a big part of my job is directing the conversation, asking the right questions so that the patients can solve their mysteries themselves. The truth is, so many times when people come to me claiming they need help making a decision, they already know what they want to do. What they don't know is simply the fact that they already know. My job is to get the patient to admit these things, simply to bring out their desires to the forefront, where they can be seen in broad daylight.
Nick ponders this for a brief moment. As is the case so many times before, Matt just turns out to be dead-on right.
Nick: You're dead-on right.
Usually this would pain Nick greatly, but this time, it's really helping him, so he'll just let it slide.
Matt: So, then, the question is what do you really want to do?
Nick: Well...
Nick sighs hugely. He's about to throw what appears to be the weight of the world off his shoulders.
Nick: Honestly, I never stopped loving Renix.
This last statement even shocks Nick slightly.
Nick: I mean, I feel like I got over her to an extent. I recovered from the fact that she rejected me, convinced myself it was just never meant to be, but I never stopped loving her. I guess if I were to be completely honest, I might even say I still held out hope she'd come back someday, that things can be what they once were.
Nick laughs. That last sentiment must sound very naive and childish, but truth be told, he's believed it wholeheartedly all along.
Nick: I guess I still am afraid of the fact that things could never be as they were back then. We've lost a certain amount of innocence as far as the relationship goes. It's not that first love anymore. It's not that kind of love where you look up at someone at three or four o'clock in the morning in the hotel cafe and instantly see the world in her eyes. We aren't starry-eyed children, hopelessly optimistic of the prospect of eternal happiness in each other's arms, oblivious to any potential of what could go wrong. But we had so many good times together. It's never gonna be perfect as it once was, but it can still be good. She made me feel like no one else ever has, or ever could, really. It took me hardly any time at all to realize that the way she made me feel was special. So I guess, what I'm saying is...
Even after all this time, Nick still can't quite believe he's arrived at this conclusion.
Nick: I do want to give this another shot.
And so it was resolved. Even after such a catastrophe, the hearts of Nick Durden and Renix Williams had gravitated back to each other. Was this a sign that things really were meant to be this time?
Matt: Then so it is. You know what you have to do.
Nick nods.
Nick: Thanks, Matt. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you.
Matt: I think you do know.
Nick: Oh, stop that!
The two brothers share a genuine laugh in what feels like ages, a pleasant note on which Nick can start this new journey of his.
Fade.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:18:52 GMT -5
Snowball Effect Danny Mainer Italy, country that hosts some of the greatest things known to man such as the worlds greatest restaurants, a great mountain range, Venice and more and also home to some of the most creative genii that the world has ever seen. Giorgio Armani, Luciano Pavarotti and Michelangelo. Alessandro Volta, Monica Belluci and even Santino Marella to an extent but instead of being in somewhere important such as Venice or Florance or anywhere in Italy that people care about the ACW team have took it upon themselves to camp out in Bologna home only to a load of trains and the Ducatti headquarters… WAIT, Ducatti? That’s bikes! Bikes are great! But no Danny Mainer isn’t taking any of that in, he’s sat in the locker-room lying on his couch with a phone pressed to his ears grinning from ear to ear as he lies in a BYOB System of a Down t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of DC Danny Way’s. He’s got a Motorola RAZR in silver pressed to his ear and he’s pretty much solely focused on the conversation at hand. There’s nobody else in the room, just him. Danny: Baby, everything is going to be fine. Look, BREATHE for a second OK? You with me? Breaaaaaathe.Danny presses the phone to his ear awaiting the response. Danny: Look, I know it’s awesome that all the stuff is shipping over there but you gotta’ keep a level head and just make sure the construction crew don’t start slacking off. Oh yeah listen baby, just on the side I’ve spoken to my boss Gingerdude and he said that I can take you to one country with us as part of the tour. You have any idea where you wanna go?Danny tunes in on his answer on the end smiling politely as with his free hand he ruffles his hair. Danny: Well umm, your options are Hawaii, with all the nice beaches and the Samoans and Hawaiian people with the flower-chains and luaus. That’s meant to be quite nice… No? What about Canada? Contrast, freeze your ass off and you get to see two shows plus there’s always Canuck Hospitality which I here is top of the range. Nah I thought not neither, well we’ve also got Ireland as well which has all of those old English pubs, we can sit down, have a couple of Guinnesses, chase the end of the rainbow, trash a hotel room and puke our guts out into The Irish Channel.Danny takes a heavy breath again waiting the decision from his one true love, he looks exasperated by her answer. Danny: Well what about Japan baby? We could go see with one those Kabuki shows, ride The Bullet Train, get in trouble with the Yakuza. Go buy us a sword or listen to Dir En Grey, so many options baby! Just pick one and we’ll do it!Danny’s face sinks, as the answer he did NOT want to hear is heard. It hits his heart like a sack of bricks to hear this answer. Danny: Why do you need to come to the Spring into Hell show baby? Liverpool is nothing special, I’ve been before, it’s all crooks and heroin and places with stupid names…Danny is seemingly getting more upset by the responses he gets and you can tell this is clearly going downhill for The State of the Art. Danny: Yeah I know we can laugh at the funny names but…Danny is starting to get even more annoyed, well not annoyed but more upset at the course of action. Danny: Look, I know you wanna be there but I can handle Jake…Danny pauses again listening to his reply from Caitlynn. Danny: Bu-bu-bu I don’t want you to get hurt, Jake is wild and he’s dangerous, he’ll do anything. Please, any other show. Hell I’ll get you booked for Omega Effect IV, front-row seats, I promise you! … OK maybe that won’t work as yours are already booked but dammit just please make it a show that’s not SITH, I’m worried that Jake will come after you and I know better then all Hell that Jake WILL come after you.Cut off, Danny awaits. Danny: Alright, yeah I guess. Of course I’ll protect you bu-… *sigh* Alright you can come to Spring into Hell. I’ll let Gingerdude know and I’ll get us a private hotel booked up. That cool?Danny finally cheers up with a satisfied response. Danny: Alright baby, well my signal is starting to go so I’m going to have to switch off for a bit. Speak to you later baby? Alright, love you too. Cya later.Danny snaps shut the flip-phone and sits up on the couch realizing he has nothing to do tonight. He looks left then right and then he sees the TV in front of him. He grabs the remote from the table and flicks it on to a blank channel giving him static. He presses a button and a plain blue screen appears. Danny reaches under his elevated couch and rummages underneath the seats before pulling out a 360 controller. His interest peaks at this point. Danny: Hmm… I wonder what complimentary game they threw in for me…Danny holds down the Xbox logo button and the game switches on, as the system fires up Danny rolls his eyes in boredom and starts to drift into his own thoughts not realizing that what he’s playing is not just Grand Theft Auto IV, but the Italian special edition. When Danny finally returns from his train of thought due to the loud bleep signalling the game has loaded on this arena-rented Xbox. He is not granted with the sight of the grizzled Eastern European in a track-suit. No, he’s greeted with a man in a pail blue t-shirt and baby blue boas as well as thick black sunglasses and jeans. Danny takes hold of the controller and starts to get a grip for the controls. It all appears to be going well at this stage. Danny takes Italian Niko and gets him to walk out of the door of his apartment through the cursor doors. The screen fades and he’s then shown out in the middle of the road in the starting town of Broker. Danny adjusts the screen scoping out the graphics which is now mid rainstorm. Danny: Ooh pretty, I could get used to graphics like this.Danny then pads out forward into the street as Niko and adjusts the analogue looking for a car to steal. He sees a nice little old school Banshee just parked nice and neat across the road. Dan recognizes instantly and so he figures that it’s reliable and fast so he should go for it. He forces him to run over the road. He gets about half-way across the road when suddenly a black car flies into Niko crashing into his hip. He rolls along the hood of the car flipping up over it and onto the floor as a man yells out of the car window “The Don says suck it!”, ignoring this and taking it as drunken antics Danny wiggles the analogue sticks to get Niko up and heads over to the banshee again. He presses the Y button and Niko with the blue boas and casual-gear thrusts a half-hearted, wussy elbow out smashing the window. He opens the car door and jumps in excitedly with his hands on the wheels. After a few seconds of hotwiring, you can hear something that is NOT the main protagonist of GTAIV. Sanniko: HAHA YOU LOSE! I GOT YOUR DELICIOUS SPORTS CAR JERRY! NOM NOM! YOU LOSE THIS TIME!Danny immediately panics and hurriedly switched the X-box off breathing heavily as worry sets in from that unusual line with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead as the screen goes to black. FADE
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:20:46 GMT -5
Match 1: AC Evans vs. Wayde Russler (Credit: Mainer)
Wayde came in and did what he did best, getting the crowd riled up but he’d somewhat been failing to hit the gym lately and he’d gone from the man that could beat Danny Mainer about to the Welcome mat of ACW and boy did Evans scrape his feet good on him. This 22 year old did stunningly in his performance. When AC Evans made his appearances a lot of the females made their voices heard while the rest stayed relatively silent for this new-comer. What became adamantly clear from the get-go is that A.C. Evans is a man with high-flying skills so refined that it’d make Jack Evans look like a street performer. Starting out with some simple mat-wrestling, this, crazy new guy took an early lead after a Snap Suplex. Wayde got in some clubbing blows at this stage but A.C. was remorseless.
Wayde speeding like a freight train early on attempted a corner attack like a big splash but in an usual twist from the norm of rope-counters A.C. pushed himself up to second rope and then flung himself forward for a Spinning Elbow slamming himself into Wayde’s jaw with incredible speed. After a bit more mat-wrestling and a Houston Hangover it was clear Wayde was getting buried. Wayde tried to snap in the Rockabye Lullaby, but showing incredible levels of agility A.C. flipped up and hit a Head Scissors. A.C. was about ready to end this contest when out of nowhere Russler hit a Running Double Leg Tackle followed by some punches to the head. The end came with a Modified Tornado DDT which synched up perfectly into an STF just off-centre in the ring giving an almost awkwardly tantalizingly view of the centre of the ring which is the most unusual yet least wanted place to be in a submission which he calls “Open your Eyes”. One submission later and he walked out the winner to a mediocre pop from the crowd.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:21:28 GMT -5
Segment: “Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust - Part 2” Credit: ~Aj 5/10/08 12:15 P.M. Joseph Household, Las Vegas, Nevada [It has been almost a decade since he was last under this roof but it feels like he hasn’t been gone a day. Everything in the house is as he last remembered it; nothing’s been altered at all. Everywhere he looks he sees a memory from the past; some of them good, some of them bad. As much as he’d like to take his time and reminisce, he has more pressing matters that require his attention. Upstairs in his mother’s cedar chest resides a former address belonging to a man he’d very much like to get in touch with, his father. Since the day of his birth this information has been locked away from Aiden and he believes it’s high time for him to pry the truth from his mother’s clutches. Even in death the woman continues to make life difficult for him.] As he trudges up the house’s stairs to the second floor, his trusty confidante remains by his side. Just like the decor of this house, Victor’s loyalties have never changed. During the darkest moments in Aiden’s life, Victor’s shoulder has always been there for him to lean on. Without him, Aiden is fully aware he might not even be here today. How does one give appreciation for something like this? To start, many would say it’s not how you give appreciation, but rather how you show it; Victor agrees. Recesvinto knows full well that if the shoe was on the other foot, Aiden would have done the same for him and that’s graduate enough.] Victor Recesvinto: While I have your ear Aiden, I’d like to discuss your mother’s estate with you. Aiden Joseph: There is nothing to discuss, Vic. She made you the executor and rightfully so. Everything in this house, the house itself and all her assists are now yours. I won’t have it any other way. [/color] [Victor doesn’t argue though he’d certainly like to. He knows full well that once Aiden has makes up his mind there is no point in arguing with him; he certainly has enough unfriendly memories from the past to support his belief. Indeed Victor knows Aiden so well he can almost read him like a book and has no doubts he will enjoy this next surprise. Since their reunion a few weeks ago, he has been waiting for the right time to inform him of the status of his old living quarters. Now with the opportunity to actually show him, he is not going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.] Victor: There is something I want to show you. Aiden: But my mother’s -[/color] Victor *interrupting*: This will just take a second. [Victor places his hand on a nearby door and pushes it open. Aiden knows exactly where this door leads to; he’s only pushed it open himself thousands of times prior.] Victor: Take a look. [Aiden steps into his own bedroom and almost falls over in astoundment. If needed any evidence that this house was a portal to the eighties, this would be the proof. Since his departure to Japan, the room has gone virtually untouched. His belongings all rest where he left them and only have been moved for the occasional cleaning.] Aiden: Oh-my-God. It looks just like it did the day I left home! [/color] Victor: Mhm. You mother wanted to leave it this way, just in case you ever decided to come back. Aiden: I’m in shock, seriously. I would have figured all my stuff would have been given to the Goodwill and this place would have been converted into another one of her mini bars. [/color] Victor: Come now Aiden. Give your mother some credit. [The only credit Aiden would ever give his mother is being a terrific child abuser and a lush. Not wanting to debate the issue with Victor, he bits his lip and continues to scan the room. His spirits continue to soar as he sees his old CD tower still standing tall right next to his bed. The gift of music is one he most certainly treasures and what resides in these slots is much, much more than old 80's and 90's compact discs. This is the music that helped him escaped the horrors of this house. This is the music that helped him through his first crush and break up. This is the music that defined his early life like a movie soundtrack.] Aiden: My God, I had all but forgotten about these![/color] [He runs his index finger down the alphabetized music library and comes to a stop when he finds the one he was looking for. With a smile on his face he frees it from it’s decade old prison and places it into neighboring stereo system’s disc tray. Switching to track three, Aiden stands up and as the music begins to pour out of the speakers, he feels as if he is eighteen years old again. With a boyish grin, Victor can’t help but picture himself with Aiden in this room countless years ago, listening and singing to this very tune.] Aiden *singing*: I guess it’s time for me to give up. I feel it’s time. Got a picture of you beside me, got your lipstick marks still on my coffee cup. Ohhh yeah. Got a fist of pure emotion. Got a head of shattered dreams. Gotta leave it, gotta leave it all behind now. [/color] Victor *singing*: Whatever I said, whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. I just want you back for good. Aiden *singing*: Want you back. Want you back. Want you back for good. [/color] Victor *singing*: Whenever I’m wrong, just tell me the song and I’ll sing it. You’ll be right and understood. Aiden *singing*: Want you back. Want you back. Want you back for good. [/color] [As they ready themselves for the next verse, Aiden can’t help but burst out with laughter.] Aiden *laughing*: I can’t believe you still remember the words! [/color] Victor: How could I not? We only sang this song hundreds of times together! Aiden: Oh Lord, we did didn’t we? [/color] Victor: That we did, and it got us laid EVERY time. Aiden: Hahaha! Oh hell Victor, what I wouldn’t give to have those days all over again. [/color] Victor: I know Aiden. I know. [Knowing he can never go back to the past, Aiden doesn’t want to waste anymore time on dreaming. Pressing the stop button on the stereo he indicates to Victor that it’s finally time to get to business and together they march toward Cynthia’s bedroom. Like an archeologist searching for buried treasure, Aiden digs deep inside the chest, heaving his mother’s memories out of his way with no remorse. Nearing the bottom, his heart begins to sink as he begins to suspect his mother was not truthful with him. In her life she was a wicked woman, but even Cynthia Joseph wouldn’t be as cold blooded as to send her son on a wild goose chase such as this, would she? Any remaining faith he has in his mother’s last words now lies in the hands of a manilla colored file folder tucked into the chest’s wooden frame. His heart racing, he flips it open and peaks inside; what he finds makes him peer up into the heavens above. ] Aiden *looking up* Thank you mom. [/color] [He thanks his mother for her last gift and begins scans the document with a careful eye.] Aiden: Here it is Vic! Richard York. 333 Cromwell Road, Kensington, London, SW5 0TT. Hey, waitaminute. London? [/color] Victor: England? [He checks the address again to ensure his eyes do not deceive him; his initial reading was accurate.] Aiden *shouting*: I KNEW IT! YES! [/color] [Overcome with joy, Aiden leaps to his feet and almost knocks Victor off of his in jubilation.] Aiden *shouting*: VIC, I’M HALF BRITISH! [FADE]
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:21:48 GMT -5
Segment: I am Chairman. Hear me vomit (Credit: Dan White)
Ahh, beautiful Bologna. ACW has made a few trips to this side of Italy in the past, and continues to do so. Personally the beauty of Tuscany would have done for me, the sorta invisible narrator, or description man. I bet nobody even notices me rambling onto myself like this. Let’s hope those that do notice let me know, so they are actually reading my stuff.
The segment fades into the chairman’s office, where Gingerdude is not sitting in his humble seat. Instead we switch to another camera, where Gingerdude is marching around the corribors with a “roop de doo I’m the boss, apples and pears, up the stairs” attitude, even though he’s from Manchester so has no concept of Cockney slang. Although being a Man Utd fan he’s probably a closet Cockney anyways. Enough rambling, and he marches straight into the man who he’s been looking for.
Gingerdude: THERE YOU ARE
Dan White’s startled, and turns around to see Gingerdude glaring straight at him. Dan smiles, as though he’s happy to see him.
Dan: Ginger! How happy it is to see you! Hey, congratulations on Man Utd winning the league!
Dan goes for a hug, but Ginger moves out the way.
Gingerdude: Dan, you know FINE WELL that I’m not in the mood for bullshit gestures like that.
Dan still tries to keep a happy face.
Dan: Well sure, man! You’re a stressful dude, you know you should hire me again as Commissioner. That’d get the monkey off your back!
Gingerdude: Dan, there are no excuses for the actions you did last Thursday against “Senator” Steve Phillips. Do you not see that without a Number One Contender, this fed is going to lose fans?! What possessed you go on into a tackle like that?!
Dan: Oh come on! It’s my nature! I’m a Cardiff lad, born and bred! My heart lies fighting on the terraces, and you know that damn well.
Gingerdude is getting angrir by the minute, and looks like he’s ready to burst.
Gingerdude: WELL YOU DAMN WELL BETTER SORT YOUR NATURE OUT, BEFORE YOU GET THROWN OUT OF THIS COMPANY
Ginger takes several deep breaths, and the camera solely focuses on him, leaving Dan out the shot.
Gingerdude: Now if you excuse me, I have to get some work done. Let this be your one and only warning.
Gingerdude turns and prepares to march back to his office, but before he can even do this, a black, velvet glove touches his shoulder, and the camera catches this, but none of the rest of Dan. Gingerdude doesn’t turn around, but he’s clearly spooked.
Black & White: Gingerdude. Don’t think for a second that your threats can scare me. But you could of course be right on one account. What if my natural personality isn’t one that should be shown on TV? Is football hooliganism too much for some to handle? Well, Mr. Chairman, you’ll be more than delighted to remember that I do have a more sinister personality, and it’d be a damn shame to spring this upon ACW again. We all saw what happened to Ann Sommers.
The glove leaves Ginger’s shoulder, and with chills down his spine, he smartens up. Black & White speaks again, still off-camera.
Black & White: Have a nice day, Mr. Chairman.
He can be heard letting out a sinister laugh, as a spooked Chairman leaves towards his office, wisihing he hadn’t have bothered.
Fade out.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:23:38 GMT -5
Segment: Come On - Part 4 (Credit: Nick Durden)
"And thinkin' back before her I never knew the feeling of alone Still the flag is feeling foreign I live the day to escape into a phone" - "Come On" by Ben Jelen
If the ground beneath your feet feels a bit cooler than usual, that might be a result of hell freezing over, for Nick Durden has actually resolved to get back with the very woman who almost shattered his spirit not even a year ago. He gave her a phone call. They both agreed this is worth another shot.
So here he stands anxiously outside her room in the Florida Mall & Hotel Conference Center, clutching a bouquet of daffodils (his sister, Kirsten, had suggested such flowers). He raps on the door three times with his knuckles, being a bit overly conscious about the tempo of his knocks. He doesn't have to wait very long for Renix to arrive at the door. The way she beams at Nick takes him aback slightly.
Renix: Hi...
Nick: ...
It's your cue, Nick!
Nick: Oh, right, hi!
Nick just then realizes he's holding flowers.
Nick: Oh yeah, these are for you.
Nick thrusts the bouquet toward Renix.
Renix: Thank you!
Her bright smile suddenly seems to miraculously calm Nick's nerves. Amazing how she still had that effect on him.
Renix: They're beautiful.
Renix takes a hearty whiff and exhales contentedly.
Renix: Oh! Where are my manners? Come in.
Nick steps in and closes the door behind him as Renix places the flowers in a vase.
Renix: So...
Nick: So...
Oh, boy, not this again.
Nick: Listen, I'll admit something to you right now.
Good going, Nicky boy, you've managed to string a decent lengthed series of words together.
Nick: I'm...a little nervous about what to expect from this. And it it's not a bad kind of nervous. It's just that there's no way to know what to expect. I mean, this whole situation is a bit unprecedented, for me at least. And I just wanted to tell you this because I have a sneaky suspicion that you're a bit scared as well.
Renix can't help but be slightly amazed. Even after all this time, they can still sense what the other's feeling. Perhaps this is a sign that things will work out after all.
Nick: And I want you to know it's okay to feel that way. It might even be natural. So, I guess, don't feel like you have to pretend to be strong or anything 'cause I'm not feeling that way at all, either. I mean, if you can't be vulnerable around me, who can you be vulnerable around, right?
Renix flashes a warm smile. Having Nick back as her support system is a great comfort, just as she imagined it would be.
Renix: Right.
Nick: Good then.
Renix: So what now? I mean, ( chuckling ) it's been so long since we've done this couple thing, I kinda forgot how it went.
Nick snickers as well.
Nick: Well...uh...hey, I'm kinda hungry. You?
Renix: Sure, I could go for something to eat.
Nick: All right, well, there's this French bistro downtown. They make a killer coq au vin.
Renix: Oooh, sounds excellent.
Nick: Awesome.
The newly reformed couple begin collecting their things in preparation to leave.
Renix: Hey, Nick, can you help me put on my necklace? I can never get this damn clasp to work right.
Nick: Oh, of course.
Nick moves to stand behind Renix and helps her connect the ends of her necklace. The couple stand there for a moment, admiring their reflections standing so happy, so together. They can only hope this bond will last.
And then it happened.
It's hard to pinpoint what exactly caused it. It was more of this cosmic conversion of all these events. The sweet aroma of her perfume filling his sinuses. The warmth of his strong hands grasping her shoulders. The way a few delicate strands of her wheat gold blonde hair blew into his face, gently tickling his nose. Whatever it was, the result was undeniable.
A kiss.
A colossal collision of lips and tongues that bound the two together in the same recklessly ardent passion that had consumed their entire souls all that time ago.
Renix violently rips apart Nick's shirt, sending buttons flying every which way. He lifts her up by the thigh and throws her onto the bed. As he makes his way over, she feverishly pulls off her tank top and yanks down her skirt. He rests his body atop hers. They gaze longingly into each other's eyes.
But it was wrong.
As quickly as Nick had delved into the throes of this precipitant romance, he resurfaced. What had happened to all the raw, fervent desire? It had swept through him in such an unrelenting manner, but in a flash it had passed.
Sadly, the time for turning back is gone.
To be continued.
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Post by BK London on May 15, 2008 19:24:21 GMT -5
Segment: The James Miller Experience (Credit: Teddy Davis)
Our scene opens up backstage with Charlotte King standing outside of a dressing room that is labelled "BK LONDON". She's dressed in a black mini-skirt and a pink halter top as she waits the cameraman's countdown when a man dressed in a two-piece black suit with a matching black metal briefcase bursts past them as though he were looking for someone.
Charlotte King: ...Wait, who are you?
The man stops.
??: Oh... son of a...
He turns around to face her. We see an older man with wraparound shades covering his eyes. He has long black hair and a black moustache. He pulls the shades down and coolly replies.
??: Who am I?
Charlotte King: Ye--
??: Why, darling, I'm the best manager that money can buy. I'm James Miller! Ask anybody, they know I don't come cheap. In order to get my managerial services, you have to have some deep pockets. And by the looks of you, honey, you only have a deep throat.
King is insulted, but keeps her composure.
Charlotte King: ...What brings you here?
Miller looks around.
James Miller: Here?!
Charlotte King: To Alpha Championship Wrestling...
James Miller: A direct approach is the best approach, darling, but I came here to Alpha Championship Wrestling at the request of one of the promotion's employees and I'm currently trying to find out where he's situated.
Charlotte King: Who exactly would you be looking for?
James Miller: Nice try but I can't give you the scoops. That Anderson punk has already tried to get that drop on me. I'll find him myself and should I run into any other wrestlers along the way, I'll see about making some deals. I hear there are plenty of wrestlers who are more than capable of meeting my asking price and I'm certainly open to managing more than one client. Think of it as the James Miller Experience!
Charlotte King: Good luck then, Mr. Miller. If you need anything, just ask.
James Miller: Sorry, babe, I'm happily married.
With that, Miller turns on his heel and heads down the long corridor in search of his new client.
Charlotte King: What a douche...
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