View Full Version : Television Championship: MWG v Payne

06-09-05, 12:16 AM
All RP for the Television championship match between MWG and JASON PAYNE for the held up Television Title at International Intrigue should be posted in this thread.

RP and angles are due Sunday, June 20th, at 11:59pm PST. All angles should be sent to sedmunds@goucher.edu ... enjoy!

Jason Payne
06-23-05, 04:46 PM
Fade in on the NEW banner, with a massive Jason Payne standing in front of it. Payne has his arms folded aover his chest, looking down towards the floor. As the camera comes up, Payne's eyes slowly find the camera. His eyes searing with the barely harnessed fury he tries to contain.

Payne - "Dubbya. You had better take this chance that you have, before the PPV, to sit on your couch watching obscure punk ronk videos, munching on bon-bons, and arranging to be the Grand Marshal of the Rainbow Day parade in San Francisco. Enjoy it, and make sure that Miss Blue is there every step of the way, sucking down everything in sight, that way at the end of the night she can spend it over the toilet bowl retching it back up. Savor these moments you have left, because once this PPV is over, that's going to be all between you and me."

"You see Dubbya, this goes far beyond the Television Championship. This is about you and me. You can sit back and talk about how you are going to rape me in the middle of the ring. You can make all the sexual innuendos that you want. The fact of the matter is this Dubbya. You have about as much chance of getting that Television Title, as a dyke in prision has of getting some real dick."

Payne reaches up and brushes a errant strand of hair out of his face, but his eyes never leave the camera. He appears more determined than ever.

Payne - "The last time me and you hooked up in a one on one match, it was a brutal exhausting contest. If you think you saw the best of Jason Payne in that encounter, you aint seen a damned thing yet. What I put you through in that match is going to look like playtime at the day care once I am through with you. You better hope to God that I get disqualified, or arrested because there is nothing that is going to stop me from putting you out of the picture, permanently."

Payne shifts his footing and the camera begins zooming in on his face slowly as he continues to speak.

Payne - "Krist, dress your man up real nice. Put on his little makeup. Do his hair. Make him shine, and then sit back and enjoy it before you have to run to throw up your Burger King value meal you wolfed down for lunch. When I get through with him, all the plastic surgeons in California won't be able tp put that face back together again. Don't believe me? Show your faggot poser ass up at the Pay Per View and find out. You are going to wake up from this fairy tale you have been living in your head. You're going to leave behind this delusion that your the queer savior with the straight girlfriend. After I break that mophandle off in your ass Dubbya, maybe you'll wake up."

The camera stops as Payne's face encompasses the screen.

Payne - "Take a good look Dubbya. Take a good, long look. This is the face that you are going to see when you are laying flat on your back, looking up after you have lost to Jason Payne. You, like countless others, are going to be just another victim of the Payne Killer. And when the dust settles, and the battle is over, you will find out that you were just not good enough. And I'll look down at you, with my Television title in hand. Raising it towards the heavens will the rest of the arena, and the world is screaming at you...poser! POSER! POSER!!!!


06-25-05, 02:00 AM
(CUEUP: “Lost in Hollywood” by System of a Down…)
(M.W.G….The artist formerly known as Madonna Wayne Grossard, sitting on the bathroom floor of Krist Blue’s apartment. No make up. No lavish clothing. Just a tight white “Sleater Kinney” T-shirt and cargo pants. Arms folded over his knees, looking somber yet relaxed…)
“the surreal…”
“the IT boy”
“The Hardcore Legend”
EMDUBBYAGEE: This is the last time I’m ever going to explain this to anyone….I’m tired of it. It’s passé. 1998 passé.
The last year or two of my life has basically been about escaping 1998, you know? This type of thing ceased to amuse me some time ago…
Listen to me, my darling Jayson…Kay? Listening? Good. Now…for the absolute last time….that I will ever say this…I will never…ever…be afraid of you...ever….do you have any concept of who I am, Jayson? And IDEA what kinds of things I’ve been through? Japanese death matches against the likes of Maelstrom and Copycat? Bigger, meaner, and much smarter queens than you…?
I didn’t win all of those matches, Jayson. But I won my share. That thing about me being a hardcore legend? That’s actually got nothing to do with porn. My porn nickname is “the one man daisy chain.” But “hardcore legend?” That’s from hurting lots and lots of people. The opposite of sex. The exact opposite.
The truth, Jayson…that you refuse to admit to yourself….is that I’m a pansy. And I’m a thousand times tougher than you could ever dream of being…
You think our last match was anything special for me, Jayson? You think you really rocked my world? Does it occur to you, ever, that all I have to do to beat you, again, is to let you believe that? It doesn’t, does it? Because I’m on 6 kinds of drugs you’ve never even heard of, and still I’m a million times more perceptive than you….
I mean, jesiskrist, if you even wanna make the case that you beat me, which you didn’t, it was with a friggin’ german suplex. That’s one notch above winning with a roll up. It’s not like you slammed my head against the concrete ‘till I died…
And here you are, the big burly macho asshole, calling me a poser…What, have you been going to hardcore shows or something? Some 14 year old saw you wearing a Pantera T-shirt at a Hope Conspiracy show, got all scenester uppity on you, and you thought “Hey wow, a new word. I’ll start calling people that.”
Frankly hun, I don’t think it applies. I mean, that’s the whole reason you’re such a b!tch when I’m concerned, isn’t it? You don’t have an original bone in your body. There’s a bah-zillion camo pants and metal T-shirt wearing doofuses out there, who look like you, talk like you, listen to the same music you do, eat the same things you do, drink the same beer, bang the same groupies you do, and fight like you, for the same reasons you do. Believe me, baby doll. I’ve met a lot of those people. Don’t feel threatened. They couldn’t handle me either. Wanted me, just like you do…And when they got me, they didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with me…Useless pricks, Jayson. Disposable, interchangeable, forgettable. Straight to Video.
But there’s, undeniably…One, and only one…Em…
Beau Michaels might be gayer than me. I’ve made peace with that. Because I’m more everything else…You, Jayson? You’re not more anything than anyone. You’re not even a bigger f(bleep) up than me. All my little tragedies and true life stories? Well, they’ve got it all over your cookie cutter ass life story…
I got all testy when you called Krist fat. Now I can forgive you. Because you bore me so to tears, I’m barely listening when you talk.
And it’s got me wonderin’…queer little thoughts going through my queer little head…That maybe I’m past the point that I really need to be subjected to the likes of you.
Regardless of what happens at the PPV, I’m the Reality TV champion. You can never be anything but the fake TV champion, the, ha ha ha, “poser” TV champion.
But for sentimental reasons, Jayson…I still want my baby back. Like how you want old lovers back, even when the sex is boring and the conversation is dried up. It’s part vanity, so I can believe I was always the one that mattered, and it’s part comfort, like how sometimes I still kinda miss my security blanket from when I was a little kid…
Hooo boy…did me and my Sunday school teacher ever have some fun times on that blanket…
You say this isn’t about the title, it’s about us, and that’s just silly…This thing between us started because of the title, and the title is what’s going to end it…There is no “us,” Jayson. Sorry if I led you on, but that’s the way it is…
I’m not your true love, Jayson. I’m your misplaced affection puppy dog crush. In my mind, you’re just some guy I can use, but in your little pee sized brain, there is something real between us…
This “personal grudge,” Jayson? I never really did anything bad to you. You’re just mad that someone like me has the balls to exist. To look you in the eye, say “I’m nothing like you,” and not care. Worse yet, that someone like me can thrive. That someone like me can consistently outshine someone like you, a walking cliché, who got told to be a stupid grunt, a big greasy ball of testosterone, and did exactly that. A good little solider.

Needless to say, I’ve ignored the advice of authority figures more than a few times, but despite my flamboyant disregard for everything you stand for, Jayson, I’ll still be famous when no one can remember your name. Catchy as it may be….I’ll take this apparently unbearable beating you’ve got in store for me, and I’ll still be pretty afterwards. And thanks to the best plastic surgeons in all of Mexico, I'll still have a massive wang...

But you?...You won’t even be champion.

(Ghost of Aleister Crowley manifests in the bathroom, all dragged up to look like Kelly Osborne…)



(ORPP: Yeah, I know. I hate it when people wait ‘till the last day too. But I ended up having a REALLY busy week. There were finals, and then a bunch of other things popped up, and blah. Sorry ‘bout that.)

Jason Payne
06-25-05, 04:19 AM
Fade in on the interior of the Bashm-Schultz Wrestling Academy. In the main arena, inside the ring, sits a man in a folding metal chair. He is looking down at his hands, his long hair covering most of his face. The camera rotates around towards the front of Jason Payne to see him looking down at his hands. The camera centers up with him as he begins to speak.

Jason - "You know something Em, you are beginning to bore the hell out of me. You want to come out here and talk about your Japanese death matches. Your hardcore legend status. These trivial things of the past that you believe have some sort of virtue. What you completely fail to understand is that none of that really matters anymore. You want to live in the past then be my guess. I look down at these hands. Hands that have mangled other people's bodies. Broken bones. Drawn blood. Ended careers. Dreams taken away in a mere moment of attrition. Do I dwell on the things I have done? The attrocities I have committed. No. As each challenged is vanquished, it is passed on. I move on to bigger and stronger challenges. You, will be no different then all the rest."

"Just another guy in a heavy metal shirt with camo pants huh? Well Em, if that helps you to sleep at night. Then fine. You keep thinking that. But I'm telling you right now, man to man, that when this pay-per-view is over, you are going to wish that I was just an average guy in camo pants and a heavy metal shirt. And I say this, because the things I am going to do to you, and to Krist Blue, well..."

Payne chuckles as he looks up at the ceiling for a moment, and then back down to his hands.

Payne - "It's funny. We come into this business, and you have to pick a side. Are you a face? A guy who appeals to the crowd and does everything he can to live by a strict moral code? Stand up for everything that is good? Or do you decide to become a heel. A villain. Someone with no regard for the rules, who has no compassion, or sence of caring for anyone else but himself. And no matter how hard I try to stand up for what is right, the longer this drama drags out between you and me, I have to question whether I really understand what is right anymore. The more compasion and sense of caring I feel slipping away from me. So what am I going to do? Well, I'll tell you."

Payne looks up to the camera, his eyes boring a hole into the lens. The determination in his eyes is tinged with a healthy dose of hate. And his voice takes on a deeper, almost growling tone as he speaks once again.

Payne - "I'm going to do whatever it takes to win this match. And if that means I have to lose all compasssion, to lose all honor in doing so, then that's fine. I'm not going to lose any sleep over it whatsoever."

"You make it sound like I have accomplished nothing since I have been here in NEW. You make it sound like you are this legendary thing destined to save the world of professional wrestling. You think that because you sit in Krist's appartment, while Ashley Simpson sucks you off, that that is supposed to impress me? The only thing that impresses upon me, is the fact that you are a sad, twisted little man that needs to be put out of his misery."

"I find it very humorous that you want to try and make our last match less then what it was by trying to insinuate that because I used a german supplex to finish you off, I'm not a top notch competitor. Just because I didn't put you through the Payne Killer, that makes me less of man? You are truly delusional, because it took a simple german supplex to pin you last time. But you know, you're right. THat is a notch above winning with a roll-up. But you know something, a win is a win, no matter how you get it. But since you want it so god damned badly, I'm gonna give you your fiery ending. Oh yes. I'm going to give you the proper send off, the likes of which you will never have seen."

Payne trembles slightly, and he slowly looks back down at his hand. His hands clench into fists and release slowly over and over again.

Payne - "Em, you better reach down, deep inside yourself, and find whatever magic you had in the past, because, in all honesty, I can't guarantee your safety. And I can't guarantee Krist's safety. I'm not going to be responsible for what happens to you both at the PPV. When your body gets to the point that you are able to stand, and look at yourself in the mirror, be ready to blame the guy looking back at you, because you created this. You created this, but I'm going to finish it, and become the new, New Era of Wrestling Television Champion."


[[ -I understand, and should appologize to you as well. Work has been a ***** lately, with yesterday and today being the only slow days this week. Today I felt like I had enough energy to do this. But no worries on this end I understand about finals...-lol-]]

06-25-05, 04:36 PM
(CUEUP: “Posed to Death” by the Faint…)
(Back in the bathroom…Shot of Em’s reflection in the mirror, as he carefully rolls on purple lipstick…Painted up like a total harlot, hair spiked up in the faux hawk with orange highlights, lavish pink boa draped over his shoulders, he smacks his lips, pop, and lights a cigarette…)

“the hardcore legend”
“the one man daisy chain”
“the IT boy”
“The American Idol”
“the surreal…”
EMDUBBYAGEE: So….ummkay….

First it was personal between us, now I won’t be any different from the rest and I bore you, yet while I’m boring you, you’ve apparently been pushed the edge of sanity…
You’re sending me mixed signals, Jaypay. And it’s getting me excited about this shindig, finally…
I know…this is going to sound so obvious coming from me, but back when I ran a wrestling school? I told all my precious little dumping children, “Winning a wrestling match is just like getting someone into bed. First you confuse them until they don’t know what year it is. Once they don’t know what they want, you just tell them what you want is what they want…”
And here you are, my Jaypay, talking about jumping over to the dark side of the force because, oh, poor lost you, just doesn’t know anymore…
You’ve ended careers, JayPay? Really? Whose career? You’re an evil amoral psychopath all of a sudden? Ain’t that sumpthin. Last time we met, it was you lying Kay Oooed on the floor, and me sitting pretty on your boot camp honed abdominals…
All my past accomplishments, well, sure, nobody cares about those things anymore, the same way everyone lost interest in the Spice Girls. But we all learned from the Spice Girls, didn’t we? Fashion dos and don’ts. That if you wanna be my lover, you’ve gotta get with my friends. Just like I learned from setting myself on fire and jumping through tables.
I learned that pain ain’t nothin’ but another thing. At first it’s going to hurt, and it might bleed a little, but once you get used to it, it’s very pleasant…A folding chair to the brain becomes just like like a cup of hot cocoa after an afternoon playing in the snow…
And I haven’t the slightest notion of when exactly I said I was going to save professional wrestling. If anything, professional wrestling is waiting to be saved from me. But, tragically, the other part is true. You haven’t accomplished anything in NEW. Cameron Cruise, of all people, didn’t even think you were worth the trouble, and like I’ve said a zillion times already, you never beat me. You’ve had two chances now, and both times, it’s ended with me ontop. You, flat on your back, me, straddling your torso…The same way a good porno ends…And this time, Jaypay my lovely, if you’re so very insistant on busting out, then I’m just going to have to do likewise…All over your face…
You go on about being a face or a heel, and ugh, that’s another perfect example of what I was talking about. There you go again, looking for a prefab part to play. A set of rules you can follow. Lord save you if you try anything that hasn’t already been done.
This big plan you’ve got in store for me? I promise you, Jaypay, it IS something, the likes of which I’ve seen a million times before. And I’m through pretending to be more interested than I am to keep from hurting your pride…
Anything you can do with someone, it’s probably been done to death long before you came into the picture…

There are exceptions. for example, nobody throws a dance party quite like me and mine...

(Krist Blue walks into the shot, in a black leather mini-skirt, “Invader Zim” T-shirt, and black angel wings. She drapes her arms over Em’s shoulders, and cracks her gum at the camera..)
I haven’t been afraid for my safety in YEARS, Jayson. You’re talking to someone who has shot O.C. into his eye socket, and spent more hours handcuffed to radiators than you’ve spent bathing…But am I afraid for Krist’s safety?...Krist, honey, are you afraid for you safety.

KRIST BLUE: The teachings of No Name Maddox, ay kay ay Jesus Christ, have shown me that death is beautiful. Pain and death, these things enhance your awareness, and Awareness is love…The kindest thing I could ever do to Jason Payne, is forgive him for calling me fat, and then stab him 39 times.

MWG: Um…wait, I thought you hated Jason Payne…if killing him is the nice thing to do, then wouldn’t you want to do the opposite, because that’s the mean thing to do?

KRIST: No sense makes sense.

MWG: Totally. And for the record, Ashlee Simpson never blew me. She blew Johnny Havens, and HOW DARE YOU disgrace his memory by verbally misplacing his last beejeg?


(Ghost of Johnny Havens appears)



MWG: I thought Ashlee Simpson swallowed you?

GHOST OF HAVENS: Yeah. I came out of her while she was PMSing.


HAVENS: Yeah. It was cool. So cool, it made me wanna sing….And all ya’ll boys and girls at home should sing it too. C’mon now!! SING IT TO THE TUNE OF…