View Full Version : RP Museum (Old RP)

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11-23-05, 01:46 AM
(FADEIN: Inside a Private Jet. Super Series Strongman Champion Hans Nowak, and the lovely Miss Ann Sadowski sit comfortably, awaiting the jet’s takeoff. Hans is a beautiful creature. The type wise men wrote Psalms about. Six foot, just over three-hundred pounds, and an embarrassingly huge body. 53 inch chest, and 21 inch biceps. Hans is wearing a muscle shirt that reads, “Freedom Ends Now.” Miss Ann is the type of woman to divorce you once you’ve left for war. Sexy Librarian looks. She has deceiving class. Even by the way she sits, you know Miss Ann is a ball breaker)

Miss Ann looks up from her New York Times Crossword, to catch Hans pouring over a set of books. Needless to say, she doesn’t approve.)

MISS ANN: HANS! Put away those books!

HANS: (struggling) PU----NY..

MISS ANN: What have I told you about learning? What have I told you about the American Educational system?

HANS: PU---NY….SI—SS---Y M----A----N.

MISS ANN: You’ll find nothing to better yourself in there.

HANS: HAHAHAH! Book is great Hans journal. One he keep whole life, words he dream of saying to American men, if ever they met. (back to the book) TA----KE….. YOU-----R…………….S0-------UL.

MISS ANN: (casts Hans a loving glance. If he were a stone, she’d wish for a million of him, to spend an afternoon skipping Hans across the skin of a lake.) Not an eloquent beast, but he tries. Ohh, he tries. Hans, show mistress your arms again. Show mistress what made her leave Poland whorehouse and life of shame.

(HANS jumps out of his seat and flexes for the camera, ripping off his muscle shirt.
Miss Ann throws her face into Hans’ left bicep, and licks his massive arm like a cat bathing itself. Shamelessly, she mugs for the camera with Hans.)

MISS ANN: Yessssssss! Yesss! Look America! Look! Look at my massive, misunderstood beast! In your country, he’d be locked away, a threat to society, your women wouldn’t give Hans a second look. In America, Hans would be forced to join Army and fight stupid Bush war, or drive nails into bricks and mortar with his bare hands, and build lower-class house projects for your minorities and other assorted gremlins. But here, in Poland…in mighty Europe, Hans is a treasure. Here, in the bosom of the world America forgot, Hans…my sweet Hans is a God amongst men.

HANS: (growls) America, mine to rule. If girly man govern, Hans can too. I…I come to rob you cowards and fiends of your souls, to crush your skulls and spirits like melons. POP! SQUISH!! HAHAHA HAHAH! Hans feel no more remorse. He come to America, there is no freedom from massive arms, no freedom from slavery Hans throw your sissy men into to. Has come to Vegas, yes city of legal whoring, to begin trek to over take the States. For, I need a mighty Kingdom to rule. I need women used to being on knees and letting men **** in their face. Hans, like late great General Zod, ask you to bow before your new master. In preparation for new life in hinterland I conquer your language in two days. How easy! I learn… (claps hands) Dick! (clap hands again) Suck! HAHAH! (Hans gets angry) Seriously cowards, Hans come to slur you endlessly, and take country by storm, one harlot by one.

MISS ANN: What pedigree does Hans have to take America, it’s poor values, and geeks captive? My baby is Super Series Strongman champion! Two times running! He come to Vegas on vacation. Yes, most men **** woman they do not know on beach, and drink until they fat and happy, but Hans, on holiday, Hans take up new sport and invade American shores like a Tank climbing Normandy. He bored with this world, he too much for it, but he can not yet move to Mars or planet fit for king, cause cancer research has reassigned our best minds to other areas.

HANS: Strong! Yes! This is my reward for lifting Russian jeeps over head, for pulling small school of children in 100 wheel barrows from city to city in Poland. This is my reward, for great God loving me more than he love any other man. Vacation? NO! Hans come to Vegas, to put America on shoulders, show world…America not stink no more, if run by European.

MISS ANN: Now, get American cameras off our plane. Hans has… (Miss Ann throws herself at his feet) hardened woman to ravish.


The Great Eye
11-24-05, 11:19 PM
Rp for the match here. Rp will be collected Thursday.

The Great Eye
11-24-05, 11:20 PM
Rp for the match here, be collected by Thursday.

The Great Eye
11-24-05, 11:22 PM
Token Rp for character here.

The Great Eye
11-24-05, 11:23 PM
Token Rp here.

11-27-05, 03:44 PM

Fade into the lobby of the Bunny Ranch, where Jimmy Donovan is awaiting his "appointment" to come and see him.

JD: Wheee-doggie! I thought I ain't never was gonna get the chance to rassle in the big time after all those times I done been put in the slammer. But yee-haw! Here I am, in the City of Sin.

Viiiiivaaaaaa Las Vegas!

I am just happier than a pig in sh*t to be on the big stage here in Las Vegas, where I can have my cake and eat it too! And I'm in the main event too! Wheee-doggie, I ain't never thought I'd make that much of a splash early on in my prime time career! I'd call home and tell my pappy if he didn't disown me after the third time I went to go see Darla Starla on the corner of 23rd and Walker in the Big O. I didn't think that the thousand dollars bail wasn't gonna be that bad on 'im, but he kept talkin' 'bout how it ain't 'bout the money, it about his son livin' a life of sin.

Well, if goin' out and havin' carnal knowledge of hookers is a sin, well then I'm goin' to hell! And I ain't about to have it any other way.

An' in a way, rasslin' for the first time on the big stage is kinda like breakin' in a 15 year old trick who's turnin' for the first time. Sure, she's rill tight, and it might be uncomfortable at first, but once you done git yerself off, it feels so gosh darn good, I reckon.

Although I heard this Mitch Grey guy been 'round the block a coupla times. Reminds me of the first time I laid down wit' a hooker. I was a teenager, and she was a beautiful raven haired woman a' great experience. Even though her titties sagged down to her hips, she still was a good lay, good enough for a lad like me on his first time, I reckon.

Now, Mr. Grey, I know that cuz yer experienced, you'll be a good match for me this round. Just promise me you won't give me no red bumps on my junk. Man, they itched like hell after I was done bangin' her, and they didn't go away for a week. Worst week o' my life, I reckon. But I ain't tryin' to bang ya. I don't swing that way, nuh uh, no matter how many times I been offered, I only do women.

But rasslin' ain't much different from f*ckin', I reckon. It's just there ain't no penetration in rasslin'.

A blond haired, large busted woman in a leather bustier and thigh-high black stockings comes into the lobby.

Hooker: Jimmy? Oh my, I'm like so flattered. This is your third time with me this week.

JD: Well Kittie, yer my favorite here. I jus' cain't get enough.

Jimmy walks with Kittie into the back as the camera fades to the LVW logo.

11-27-05, 11:36 PM
We fade into a dimly lit room. The only light in the room is seen emitting from a computer screen in the background. The screen of the computer rolls heavily as something from the darkness makes a noise. The sounds of lead hitting concrete startle the camera man who quickly shoots to the area of sound.

We peer into the darkness that is the room, but still see nothing. The light from the computer monitor barely makes its way into the edge of the screen as a voice comes from the darkness.

“Life on the run isn’t fun.”

“You live your life and follow the instructions set forth for you by the norms of society as you do your best to try and make it in this harsh world.”

“Capitalism is the thing that drives these people into the ground. It’s what makes them useless, what makes them replaceable.”

“It’s always survival of the fittest. If you can’t get the job done, there’s someone or something out there that can and will.”

“Many people saw this happen to them just decades ago when computers and technology began doing simple everyday chores.”

“They *****ed and moaned about losing their jobs to electronics, saying how they would never get the job done as well.”

“They were wrong. Technology is an unstoppable force that will continue through all of time.”

“Computers are merely the first step in this process.”

“So the newer generations think ‘let’s get on this computer bandwagon because it’s the wave of the future.’”

“The only problem with that is that the computer is just as ever changing a factor in life as it was when it was first introduced.”

“Newer programs are discovered that make what was already easy even easier.”

“The ability for human beings to take in knowledge caps at certain points. Whether it’s mental capacity has been reached or decay has simply pulled away at the synapses of the brain, humans have a ceiling in their knowledge.”

“But not technology.”

“Old facts are quickly forgotten by newer generations of humans and the new ideas are quickly placed into the growing computer field.”

“Computers gain all the knowledge that humans integrate into them, but they still remain true in the basis that they were originally programmed with.”

“Computers will always store the best day in stock exchange history or who won the 1995 homerun crown.”

“The humans? They’ll forget it shortly after it happens. Ask a sports fan who won SuperBowl XXXVII. It wasn’t the Patriots, so it’ll take them a while to remember unless they’re a Buccaneers fan.”

“Computers are what will carry this capitalistic nation as they continue to fight their way to the top.”

“While the company you work for denies you a job because some asshole made an illegal download from your workstation sending you into an unbelievable frenzy of running and hiding, begging for another meal because your savings has run out, wondering just how in the hell you can get back to the top, thinking of how great it was while you were king of the jungle that is the information super highway, pleading with some sort of god that you question his even being because of the life you’re forced to live, cringing in every corner that…”


“Sorry about that…”

“The human has become a highly replaceable resource. They can easily be shoved to the side while the company evolves.”

“But the computer…”

“The computer and its technology are something that this nation cannot live without.”

“But every night, I’m forced to sit the light of the same thing that has put me where I’m at.”

“I must share a filthy, disgusting life in a different basement every night with my arch enemy. The one thing that has made me ‘replaceable’.”

“But it’s what I love.”

“I have nothing in this world that brings me greater pleasure than when I set in front of that monitor.”

“When I rub my forefinger across its power button as it warms up in anticipation of a full electrical current running through it, I feel the impending electricity that will flow through that data processor.”

“When I don’t have a blanket to wrap around my cold and weary limbs at night, I can massage the zip drive to heat my body better than any cotton-sewn structure.”

“The computer, it is what I love.”

“It is the only love that is in my life right now. It’s also the life I used to love having.”

“Now, while I hop from basement to boiler room in building after building, it is the only constant in my life while I try to make something new for myself.”

“Las Vegas Wrestling has been the only establishment that has offered any kind of refuge for a man of my standing in society.”

“And because of this, I now aspire to make Las Vegas Wrestling the new love of my life.”

“Capitalism is a crude, crude thing that this nation still does not fully understand.”

“It will not only rip your life and everything about it away from you. But it will also rip away your love and what you live to do.”

“This computer is an everyday reminder of how I must do something different with myself than doing what I love.”

“But nothing you love should be thrown to the curb for some Americanistic ideal like capitalism.”

“Instead, I’ll continue to throw this country and its economic system a single-finger salute as I still make something of myself and do what I love to do.”

“Las Vegas Wrestling is about to witness what happens when a man has been stripped of everything but his hard drive.”

The light from the monitor cuts out and the entire scene goes to black. More sounds of lead hitting concrete fill the microphone. A painful yelp is heard.

“God damn it!”

Fade to blacker.

John Doe
11-29-05, 11:01 AM

We come in at an Airport baggage claim a man towering over the others as he grabs a single duffle bag, he has a mask the colors of the Mexican Flag eagles on the side. A white t-shirt reading “Proud to be Mexican” some denim jeans and a pair of boots. The only thing that we question is his white skin and blue eyes. his muscular arms popping from the sleeves, stares hit him from the kids around the area. He makes his way to the Las Vegas streets, his name…El Gordo Grande, he hails from La Chiwawas, Mexico he halts staring at the camera.


“Ah, finally arrived to Las Vegas, sin city, the city of sin. Gambling, druggies, and more liquor than a Mexican tequila bar. The fact is, I have been running ramped to find a federation to accept me. And finally after years of searching and being denied I have found a home in this hole we call LVW. This place where people look the other way to join. But hey! I am in the ring!”

(He walks to the exit of the airport)

“Man oh man. This airport is packed. Hmm, this is the first time in many years I have came back to the states, not just for the wrestling purpose, because hat peso doesn’t pay crap. Catch my drift. Plus the water is horrid, so here I am back in the states making about the same I made in La Chiwawa to wrestle in a ring. Trust me if it weren’t because I get paid, well, I wouldn’t look twice at this place. But who am I to judge.”

(El Gordo Grande waves down a taxi who drives past him)

“What the hell! I forgot how rude Americans were! Anyways, I really look forward to facing these men in the ring. But for now I have to get to the hotel room.”

(He flags down another taxi and hops in)

“Viva Las Vegas”


11-29-05, 03:01 PM


Close on MC LUSCIOUS BOOTY DIVA X, mean muggin' for the camera. Sporting a Terrell Owens jersey, a matching do-rag, and a brand new set of breasts, the baddest MC ever to grace the mean streets of Sheboygan is locked, loaded and ready to FIRE!


Yo-yo-yo, check this out... yo! Angelica Monique Leroux all up in the place like a SCUD missile from the Dirty South!

She pauses for a beat, then more mean muggin' persists. Mean muggin' SO MEAN that small children everywhere no doubt were, well... not really afriad, but at the very least slightly confused.


Check this, I may be one SEXY b(FCC)tch, but when it comes to Sin City and LVW, the sexiest b(FCC)tch in the land is none other than MY man, the baddest wrestler in the afterlife, the LIVING DEAD!!

The camera pulls back, revealing the man himself, the LIVING DEAD, laying on the ground before Diva. He is twitching and wheezing incoherently.


Damned right, Dynamite! You think these luscious buns is hardcore? Shoooot you best'uh check the the Living Dead! He's got more moves than a chess match, and each one is unstoppable like MC Luscious Booty X spitting lyrics from her ample lips. Ain't that right, lover?


Uuuuuhhhhhhhhhnnnnggggh...ggrrruuuuuhhh...nnn..... Rrrruuuuuuuuuunnnnngggghhhhkkkk.


Yeah, yeah! So what's up? We got some fruity booty named Hans this week? Fo real, he needs to go back to Switzerland and make me an army knife, cuz I'm ready for war... and ain't no way he's gonna hack it in this biz after goin' one on one with the deceased! Don't like it? Tough. It's TRUTH y'all... and sometimes the truth HURTS! Peace!


11-29-05, 10:38 PM
(FADEIN: CLOSE-UP of HANS sweaty, anguished face. Camera pulls back to reveal he’s pulling a school bus full of inner-city children across a Nevada road. Hans pulls mightily on the series of chains over his right shoulder. Dozens of grade school students hang out the bus windows, looking on incredulously as Hans pulls the bus another five feet. Miss Ann, stands on the last step, doors open, her body half hanging out, barking commands at her steed.)

MISS ANN: Mush my sweet, mush! Lead these colored lambs from slaughter. Lead them to their home, to Poland Embassy, where they will be educated properly, and chiseled into a fine sculpture of dignity.

HANS: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww wwwww.

MISS ANN: Pull you big dicked Ox, pull. Look at their precious little faces, look at the excitement and anticipation of receiving a good education etched on their faces. Were they not American, and black…how sweet they would be to our European eyes.

(Hans gives a great, big yank, and then stops. He needs a break.)

MISS ANN: We will stop here. Children, unload in civilized manner and gawk at Super Series champion, bow before your new daddy, and future ruler of America. HANS NOWAK!

(The kids file off the bus, bemused, and unsure of what to make of any of it.)

KID: Does this mean we don’t have classes today?

MISS ANN: My poor, poor child….and yes, I am speaking in the literal tongue. You have been sold by your parents to Hans and I, and we will lead you to Polish Embassy where you will be given proper education, and flown, one by one, back to Poland to work in Castle. You, with the Peanut allergy… (A little bookworm steps forward) You are not special and will be granted no favors. As of this second, your only problem is being American.

ALLERGIC KID: But…my mom said (kid holds out a piece of paper)

MISS ANN: Foolish child! Put away your doctor’s note! Your sorcery is of no use to us. You are same, like other babies. Now, file around Hans. Bow..Bow before my massive beast.

(The kids make a circle around Hans.)

HANS: My small friends. Hans bid you hello. How does it feel that mighty Hans, Super Series champion, and the strongest man on Planet, greet you? That he acknowledge your lives?

(kids shrug)

HANS: It make you feel good! Living Dead, I, I do not acknowledge your existence, for I’m told you are already dead. Lucky for you, luck that you will not know what happens when (Hans takes a Karate stance and thrusts at the camera) HANS ATTACK! Hans lift car, clear over head, Hans eat nails for breakfast, but **** new room in house. Hans pull more than you dream with just his dick for one mile. I have train, and I have train hard for this moment…for when I set foot on American Soil and make fools of your ***** whipped men, and so-called athletes. Hans never wrestle before, but Dead, he not need Halloween costume to get laid.

MISS ANN: Yes, my beast, YES! Children, look at Living Dead and his neighborhood whore and know THAT is the life Hans has saved you from. Dead, Hans educate you in ways of being man. It is too late for you, too late for the proof of purchase that American Youth wasted today…but for these precious colored children there is hope. And hope lies for them, just like it does in infant country…WITH HANS.

HANS: (karate thrust) HANS ATTACK!


11-29-05, 11:03 PM
The following is a transcript of a webcast, originally aired on www.wrestlingeek.com, approximately a month ago.

ANGRY ARTHUR: Hello wrasslin’ fans. I’m Angry Arthur.

SEXY SAMMY: And I’m your other favorite wrasslin’ journalist, Sexy Sammy.

ANGRY ARTHER: We’re in our late 20es, and neither of us have ever seen a naked girl.

SAMMY: Nope. Every waking moment I pray for the sweet release of death.

ANGRY ARTHER: Our guest tonight is one of the true enigmatic legends of the squared circle. He’s was a main eventer in FWF and IWF, held numerous titles, fought like…frickin’ everybody, and beat the vast majority, was one of the innovators of BYW and the "soft-core" styles.…Formerly known as Maxwell Houz and Midiot, we are very pleased to introduce Mitch Grey!

MITCH GREY: Cool guys. Thanks for puttin’ me over.

ARTHER: And thank you for being on the show tonight.

MITCH GREY: Thanks for having me.

ARTHER: So let’s start off with the big question, why’d you walk away from the ring, seemingly at your peak?

MITCH GREY: Eh, a lot of reasons. After I won the IWF world title, I felt like I had accomplished everything I wanted to do in wrestling. At the same time, all my friends I broke into the business with were brain damaged from O.C., and I was starting to see what happens to guys who’d been in the spotlight for too long, and ah….y’know. Having people on the street calling you “Midiot” all the time gets a little old.

SAMMY: (chuckles) yeah. All I feel is pain. Mostly in my private area.

MITCH GREY: So I decided to cash in my chips while I was winning, as the expression goes…is that how it goes?

ARTHUR: Dunno. What are you up to these days?

MITCH GREY: I’m in retail, actually. I manage a Hot Topic franchise out in Kingsbury Mass. Its fun, it’s easy, it’s good money, and I don’t get my head smashed through a table every night.

SAMMY: I smash my own head through a table every night. Just to feel...something.

ARTHUR: So let’s talk a little about your career. It was cool as ice.

MITCH GREY: Yeah, I got to work with some of the big guys. Anarky ‘n Manson ‘n Rabesque, The Jobber back in his heyday. A few others.

ARTHER: And of course, you were a founding member of the Crack Rock Crowd.

MITCH GREY: Yeah, I’m glad most of those kids made out as well as they did. ‘Cept Toxick.

ARTHER: Eh, I was never a big Toxick fan.

MITCH GREY: Originally he was the talker, and me and Conor were the workers. Once the rest of us learned how to cut a promo, the writers had trouble thinking of things to do with Toxick. Not to take anything away from him as a worker though. He had a really good run in WWL for as long as that show lasted. I think maybe he let the "Whitedust" character go to his head a little...

ARTHER: Any idea where he is now?

MITCH GREY: Well, the internet reports him dead about three times a week. So I don’t take those seriously anymore. Last time I talked to him was when we all signed up for the BYW reunion show which didn’t end up happening. I guess he was counting on some of that money to pay off some people he owed. Who knows what happened after that?

ARTHER: That’s sad.

SAMMY: I’m sad.

MITCH GREY: Eh, something like that was bound to happen eventually. "Live by the sword," as the old expression goes...Jeez, I'm not sure that one's right either...

ARTHER: So any plans to return to the ring?

MITCH GREY: Not anytime soon. I’m pretty happy where I am. I stay in shape, just to keep myself from drinking again, so I still get offers everyonce in a while, but it's just not worth it to me. I've been away too long to get over on the big shows. I might do a reunion thing someday, but for now, I'm just managing my store and concentrating on being a husband and father. Gotta grow up sometime, I guess. And that cliche, I'm sure, was the one I was thinking of...

SAMMY: I’m not happy. I hate myself. I’m going to shatter the bathroom mirror, and slash my wrists with the broken shards…

ARTHER: Hmmm, well, that’s all the time we have today. Again I’d like to thank Mitch Grey for showing up for our meager little show.


CANDACE CAMERON VOICE OVER: And then….something went horribly wrong….Actually, a bunch of things went wrong. Really quickly.

(CUEUP: “Fat Lady of Lumburg” by Fluttr Effect….)
(CUTTO: LVW backdrop logo, in front of which stands a rather large, hairy, surly fellow, in a faded Misfits Skull T-shirt, leather jacket, and black jeans…Our subject cracks his knuckles, sighs, and shoots the camera an icy stare….)

“the last goth monster…”

You want to know about hell, Jimmy? Listen to me, you whore hoping dolt…I thought I was finished with the likes of you. I thought I could move on. Have a real life. Be a real person. No more Find the chicken matches, no more Dutch Oven Death Matches, no more (winces) “Masturbating Lenny” matches…no more softcore, no more hardcore…Just normalcy. Just real life. My wife and 2.3 kids in a yellow house in suburbia. Because I did my time in your world. I experienced all the insanity and stupidity that comes with being a human action figure. And it was supposed to be over.

But, kicking and screaming, I’ve been dragged back in. And I’m very, very, pissed off about it.

Some people might find your antics amusing. Maybe even “cutting edge.” We’ve had wrestlers addicted to violence, we’ve had wrestlers addicted to drugs, and plenty of wrestlers addicted to sex…but a wrestler who’s addicted to sex and can’t get laid for free?…I guess that’s something new.

So g’job, sport. You’re such a waste, people might cheer you for it. You should be proud of yourself.

I can only knock you so much though. I used to be just like you. The me of five years ago would be dressed as a giant crab and making tasteless A.I.D.S jokes right now. The me of today is mostly interested in beating you to a pulp, collecting my paycheck, and getting as far away from Vegas as I possibly can.

Until the next match. The next time I’m dragged back in.

Hell to me, is wanting to grow up into a certain person when you’re 15…and succeeding. Hell is when your old dream becomes your curse. Hell is wishing I had gone to college…Wow, that’s really melodramatic.

I guess if I had my way, I wouldn’t beat the crap out of you, Jimmy. But I'm gonna. I’m gonna end up beating the crap out of a lot of people. Because, for better or worse, I’m really good at it. (FTB)

12-07-05, 01:24 AM
WARNING: The following RP is meant for mature audiences only... you've been forewarned.... :p

The scene is a hotel room at the Mandalay Bay. Queen sized bed, sheets and blanket made neatly. The door flies open, and a big, burly security guard walks in, holding Jimmy Donovan, still knocked out. Following him in is a chick with neck length brunette hair, straight, neatly cut. She's wearing black rimmed Weezer glasses and has a smallish frame, perky tits... she's the girl who gave Jimmy her panties before the match.

Emo Chick: Alright, just plop him down on the bed.

Guard: Okay.


Guard: You sure he'll be safe with you?

Emo Chick: Of course he will. I'll take good care of my snookums, and if he needs to be taken to the hospital, I'll take him there.

Guard: I'm probably breaking a ton of rules by doing this.

Emo Chick: Hey, this is Vegas. Rules are supposed to be broken here.

Guard: Well, what's gonna keep me from ratting you out?

Emo Chick: How about $100?

Guard: No sweetie, I don't want money.

The guard unzips his pants and puts his hand inside the crotch.

Guard: I want... satisfaction.

Emo Chick: Eww... gross. No, why would I want to do anything with you?

Guard: advancing Because I'm a lot bigger than you...

Emo Chick: backing away Well yeah... but I could just scream and wake my snookums up... and even if he is groggy, he'll still kick your ass.

The guard stops short.

Guard: Fine, have it your way. But now I want $300, cash, right now.

Emo Chick: I only have $100 cash on me. So you'll have to take that and like it.

The guard looks pretty frustrated, knowing that the chick is in a position of power.

Guard: Alright, but you gotta let me show you... this.

The guard unbuckles his belt and shanks. He's bare-ass naked from the waist down to his shins, where his pants are crumpled up around his ankles. The emo chick shirks back in horror.

Emo Chick: Eww, that is so friggin' gross. Do you know how to use clippers?

Guard: Hey, it's nature's beauty.

Emo Chick: Not when it's that hairy... seriously, did you expect me to go down on that?

Guard: Uh, yeah.

Emo Chick: Pull your pants back up, and seriously, for the future, it's not fun for the girl when she's gotta pick pubes out of her teeth every five seconds when she's blowing you... that and well it won't be as enjoyable for you either.

The guard pulls his pants back up. Emo Chick hands the guard a Benji.

Emo Chick: Now just go before I throw up.

Guard: Fine... have fun with your knocked out wrestler.

Emo Chick: Oh believe me, I will.

Exit the guard. Emo chick goes over to the bed and just pounces on Jimmy DOnovan, kissing him on the mouth to try and resucitate him. Jimmy awakens from his stupor shocked that a woman is on top of him...

...and actually kissing him. Startled he shoves the emo chick from off of him and sits up.

JD: Who, wha, whoa... argh... man! What in tarnations are you doing? No kissin' on the mouth! Hell, and I thought that was part a' yer rules 'n sh*t...

Emo Chick: Rules? Ugh! What are you talking about rules?

JD: Hooker rules!

Emo Chick: Hooker... what...

JD: Yeah, a hooker! Ain't you a hooker?

Emo Chick: No, I... wait, you think I'm a prosititute?

JD: Yeah, I paid for a hooker to come up by my room after I was done rasslin' for the night. Wait a second... this ain't my room...

Emo Chick: I know it isn't. It's mine.

JD: You mean...

Emo Chick: Mmhmm...

JD: totally oblivious You mean hookers can rent rooms themselves?

Emo Chick: No you big dummy... I'm not a hooker.

JD: Then... who are you and what have you done to my hooker?

Cut to Jimmy's room, where a blond woman with 36DDs in a blue sequined dress sits on the bed with her right hand shoved in her dress.

Hooker: He better get here soon... I can't take this much longer.

Cut back to the Emo Chick's room.

Emo Chick: I didn't do anything to your stupid hooker. Ugh... I knew I shouldn't have done this.

JD: But if you ain't no hooker, and you ain't done nothin' to no hooker... then who are you?

Emo Chick: My name's Crystal. I'm the chick whose panties are stuffed in your tights?

Jimmy pulls the panties out of his tights.

JD: Oh yeah... now I remember. So you ain't no hooker?

Crystal: No... I'm like your biggest fan.

JD: Wait a cotton pickin' second now... I gots fans?

Crystal: Well yeah. I have all your tapes. See my daddy is a huge wrestling fan and he always watched indie tapes and he got the Observer. I saw you wrestle, and I thought you were gonna be next big thing, until well, the hooker incidents. Daddy told me that you were just retiring, but I knew it was bull. I mean, it was just an answer a dad wanted to tell his preteen daughter to prevent having an awkward sex talk...

JD: This is all too much for me to handle. What in tarnation is goin' on?

Crystal: Look, I pretended I was your fiancee so I could get you away from the paramedics. I saw the hit that Mitch Grey laid out and it was a perfect opportunity for me to take you away. I mean, I was just wet when you came up to me and my girls up in the crowd, and I knew I had to have you tonight.

JD: Wait a second, if you ain't a hooker, and you'se a woman... and you'se horny... does this mean I'm gettin' laid for free tonight?

Crystal: Yes. You are.

JD: YEEEEHAW! I ain't gotten laid for free in 8 years!

Crystal: Now shut up and kiss me.

JD: Well, I hafta apologize for not bein' all that good a kiss...

Crystal doesn't care. She attacks him with the fury of a horny 12th grade Catholic school girl. the action gets hot and heavy as the screen fades to the LVW logo... we had enough explicit content for one promo ;)

12-10-05, 05:05 AM
(FADEIN: Nightime - a close-up shot of the Fremont Street Experience from the east - the lights flickering against the ceiling canopy, a distant glimpse of the lit "FOUR Q..." from the Four Queens, people bustling on the concourse; vendors selling pretzels, fratboys shuffling along with neon-concave drink glasses in hand, women done up in their finest hoochie-wear walking fast, cellphone to ear - the camera quickly zooms back away from the made-up downtown away from the Experience to the grungy part of Fremont Street, right across Las Vegas Blvd., the night sky making the rundown buildings look even more ghastly - camera pans to the right, catching a flash of the "El Cortez" before landing at the corner of Fremont & 6th, in front of the parking garage, and onto JACK HOUSE.

HOUSE stands silent, staring into the camera - white button-down shirt open, white wife-beater underneath against his dark skin, a glimpse of his black slacks in the frame - his right eye giving off a noticeable glare, his nappy hair shadowed on the wall right behind him. JACK HOUSE rubs his beared chin, and wipes his hand on his T.)

JACK HOUSE: "That's right. Las Vegas. The city built by some punk-ass b*tch tryin' to CHEAT the mafia. Casinos in them days, made to CHEAT the people. Or so they say. People didn't know the ODDS. People didn't know that you couldn't BEAT the HOUSE."

"Punk-ass b*tches then roll up in here thirty years back, and they get back at the casinos - CHEATIN' at the tables - fakin' bets, countin' cards, hidin' cameras, wearin' earphones, changin' dice, writin' fake tax forms - these mutha[BEEP]as come up in here and say they winnin' at the game, straight up, all fair and square. (Shakes head) You ain't WIN or BEAT SH[BEEP]. All y'all did was CHEAT the HOUSE."

"Then these mutha[BEEP]as, they CHEAT to BEAT the game... they start callin' themselves legends - (HOUSE clasps his hands together and yells) - LEGENDS. (HOUSE sneers)."

"Naw aw... ain't none of you mutha[BEEP]as legends in my book. Scam-ass b*tches, foolin' people into talkin' y'all up, talkin' y'all up like you did some sh[BEEP] legit. You ain't done SH[BEEP]." (Laughs)

"LEGENDS of Las Vegas, JACK HOUSE put y'all on NOTICE. That punk-ass b*tch in the white suit? Mr. VEGAS? B*tch wit' no talent, got all y'all to name the city after him. But I know... I know he CHEATED Las Vegas - CHEATED the HOUSE. I gave him his shot to BUY some INSURANCE - INSURANCE to give up the game, give up the lies - but that fool ran his mouth, went AGAINST the odds, and the HOUSE... (snaps fingers) got BLACKJACK."

"This sh[BEEP] goes the same for y'all in THIS game. The WRESTLING game. There be LEGENDS out there who done the same to get their fame. CHEAT their way to the top. In due time, one of y'all mutha[BEEP]as'll gonna get called out to show up at MY table, and t'try and beat the odds, STRAIGHT UP."

"LVW? Same for you. I got my (points at glass eye) EYE on you. Try to CHEAT your way to the top like all these... LEGENDS in wrestling did?"

"Then I'll take you out to. The House is here fo' PAYBACK. The House is gonna get back to EVEN, and then the House is gonna get AHEAD, 'cause the odds are in MY FAVOR."

"Don't forget to buy insurance... because NOBODY - BEATS - THE - HOUSE."


12-11-05, 03:03 AM
Post the RP here.

12-11-05, 03:04 AM
Post RP here.

12-11-05, 03:05 AM
Post RP here.

12-13-05, 06:52 PM
"Wheeee-doggy! I loves me the Internet!"

Fade into a soundstage at the House of Blues at the Mandalay Bay Casino and Hotel. "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan stands by with an LVW microphone.

JD: Yeee-haw! I sure do love bein' here in Las Vegas Rasslin', I reckon. Man, I had such a hootnanny of a good time at the first card. Well, at least I thinks I did. I don't remember much 'bout that night 'cept gettin' laid fer free after I woke up. Oh yeah, and I think I rassled that Mitch Gray guy. I wonder what happened...

Production assistant runs on stage and whispers something in Donovan's ear.

JD: WELL I'LL BE! That son of a ***** did that? Oh, that dirty rotten varmint, I'm gonna stomp a mudhole in him and walk it dry, y'all hear! I cain't believe he done did that after the match. Daym.

But I guess I cain't lets that get me down, cuz I gots a match against someone really different this week.

Mr. Web Browser, I ain't gots no reason ta hates ya there, partner. You and yer kind pervide me with a great service.

Internet escort services.

Whee-doggy, I love me some hookers I can buy online. Man, they even come to my house! I ain't gots to walk the streets or head out to the brothels on the outskirts of the city. Door ta' door service, it's the wave of the future!

But I guess I gotsta do what I gotsta do, Mr. Browser sir. My only hope is that after the match, after I done gave you an Oklahoma STAAAAAMPEEEEEEDE, that you would find it in yer heart t'forgive me and show me some more of those Internet escort sites, you know, maybe ones that have Brazilian chicks on 'em. Cuz I ain't found one of those yet, and I really, really wants to bang me a Brazilian lady, I reckon.

Or at least you can find me some good ol' fashioned pornography. Cuz hey, if I can't bang me a Brazilian, I can at least watch someone else do it and whack off while imagining that I's the one who's doing it.

Fade to the LVW logo.

12-14-05, 01:43 AM
What are the idiots that run this place thinking? Putting ME the great Bill Bellmoth, 9 time World Series of Wrestling Champion in a match with a worthless piece of enhancement talent like this, this, this… what was his name again? Luchador El Gordo Grande? Christ I think I ordered that along with some cinnamon twists and a Mountain Dew for lunch. You are out of your league kid, but don't worry after you, like so many before you fall to my greatness, there is always a job for you mowing the lawn at my multi-million dollar estate. ::Maniacal Laugh::

12-14-05, 02:35 AM
We open to the sights of a rolling computer screen. We can make out that it is an unused desktop, but it takes us another moment to realize that the letters in the background are LVW. The camera zooms out and we see The Web Browser sitting on a swivel bar stool with no back. He slowly twirls himself around with a deranged smile on his face.

WB: You must truly love the greatness of Las Vegas.

Everything about the place screams of the joys that make up capitalism.

Take right now for instance…

Above me, thousands of silver dollar-eyed, greedy Americans are praying their lives away as they make deal after deal with the one they claim as their lord for just a small win.

That they can win just enough to break even from where they started and they’ll be happy.

Until they think about what a loss the trip is, simply because the fun isn’t enough.

The rush of adrenaline that pulling on the slot machine gives them just doesn’t quite cut it.

Instead, they think about their mediocre lives that they must return to in which some more money that they didn’t earn would really help them along.

So they waste that money that finally got them back to sea level.

That money that was once so prized and treasured is dumped right back down the toilet because their greed brings them to want more.

That’s the American way.

Trust me, I know about greed.

Browser reaches over and grabs a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He pops the top and takes a big gulp before setting it back beside his monitor.

WB: Greed is what got me where I am today.

Even the above average salaries leave you to possess some greed.

But the greed is neither here nor there.

What matters now is necessity.

And necessity is being fulfilled by Las Vegas Wrestling.

And this week, Las Vegas Wrestling is allowing me, the Web Browser to take their prostitutional promoter for a little ride on the information super highway.

It’s people like James Donovan who have made the internet the mockery that it is.

The internet was built to do exactly what nickname says.

It was designed to be an informational source, not to be some sort of measure to please yourself when your wallet is running low.

People like you sicken me, James.

You’ve made a mockery of what really matters in my life.

The internet is supposed to be a tool so that many can learn and, at the same time, provide info so that the world may become a more intelligent place.

Instead, the more intelligent saw its potential to lead to a bigger market, leaving an amazing amount of opportunity for morons like you to pick up the mouse and give it a few clicks.

Now, I’m forced to sit here and listen to you talk waaay too much about the internet in the negative way that makes me sick to my stomach.

The pain is not something that I’m a fan of, James.

That’s why I used to own a desk job.

But you’ve forced me fill with aggression and hatred.

You may not have any hate for me, and quite frankly, I may have none for you.

But your ways have angered me and what I stand for.

The odds of me showing you some more good porn sites are about as good as your chances of getting by me this week without a broken mouse finger or two.

And I can assure you that the only thing you’ll be seeing, James…

Browser turns to the computer and double clicks on the mouse, but nothing happens. He clicks again with no response. He slams the mouse and clicks one more time before turning hastily to the camera.

WB: Well, you won’t like it!

Browser turns back around and clicks again, but nothing happens as the camera fades out.


John Doe
12-14-05, 09:30 AM

It’s too easy, MGM Grand Casino, penny slots…he’s “Mexican” what do you expect.


”Bill Bellmoth, the highlight of the night right? WRONG. Listen up tinker bell, you somehow fondled yourself into this match up, you somehow found yourself in the ring against…oh, how can we put it…a greater star? No, to typical to say. A flat out superstar, as for you, you are what we like to call the typical JOBBER.”

“Yes, I said it. The word that every person fears, you my friend are a J-O-B-B-E-R. a man paid to act as though he is truly a wrestler, but when the day comes he finally realizes he didn’t have the talent, potential, skill, or power to compete with us upper class men.”

“Out of my league? Yes if I was settling for a standard so low that I have to change my name to return to the wrestling industry. Something I am sure your pitiful ass has done. Just for you could achieve a self standard of glory. Not happen KID.”

“Wrestling is like a car. You have to learn how to park before you can drive the highway. You are not sufficient enough, capable enough, coherent enough to drive the highway. You are a hazard to this vehicle we call wrestling. There are no stops, no brakes, no traffic, you are causing this vehicle to slow down. Consider my foot parked in your ass.”

“Your million dollar estate? You must be dreaming. You don’t make enough income to pay the electrical bill on a million dollar estate. LVW alone doesn’t make enough money to rent out venues. You think they are going to go under in finances to pay your sorry loser ass? YOU OUT OF YOUR F*CKING MIND.”

“Unless daddy dearest spoiled his rotten son.”

“Honestly Bill, I would not be surprised if on day you were walking down the street, so happened to see a LVW flyer and said ‘I think I wanna be a wrestler today’. Your f*cking pathetic, just like 99.9% of the roster. Except….for….me.”

“Because wrestlers like me bring cash flow, wrestler like me get sales pitches, wrestlers like you get fired after 4 months because they couldn’t ‘cut it’. And it wasn’t for that reason either, they polished it up. It’s cause you SUCK you jackass.”

“You suck more than a hooker on a Saturday night. You suck so f*cking bad I feel sorry they even allowed you to wrestling to make you ‘feel good’. THEY HIRED YOU TO LOSE YOU F*CKING PRICK. You are nothing more than a man to count the lights on the ceilings and report if a bulb went out.”

“Word of advise.”

V/O: “One Dollar Tacos at the restaurant.”



“As I was saying. Word of advise. QUIT. Quit before you embarrass so badly that you cry yourself to sleep. Not that that isn’t an everyday occurrence, I mean hell if I looked like your ugly ass and looked in the mirror I would cry too. But hell after I am done with you in this match what you looked like before would seem as though you were sleeping beauty.”

“I honestly wonder if your mom wanted to drown you when you were an infant. I mean…I would. Nobody wants a crack baby. In all truth, the psychiatric clinc is a few miles south of Las Vegas, check in, and say you THINK you can beat El Gordo Grande. They will absolutely consider you insane.”

“Other than that. Go play hide and go f*ck yourself.”


(He walks off set)

“…Where are those tacos?”


John Doe
12-14-05, 09:44 AM
^^^Bump bump bump bump it up!!!^^^^^

Mad Dog
12-15-05, 10:50 PM
(FADEIN to “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito at the blackjack table inside the Tropicana. Carmine has three $100 chips he is flipping through his fingers as his hand of blackjack is being dealt.)

DEALER: Dealer showing 9, player is showing 14.

CARMINE: Hit me.

(The dealer flips a new card over for Carmine.)

DEALER: 8…player busts.

CARMINE: Damnit! That’s six hands in a row! You f’n scassacazzo! Ugh! I’m walkin’!

(Gets up from the table and hurls one final comment to the dealer.)

CARMINE: You f’n sticchio! I can’t believe I lost this much f’n money in a troiaio like this!

(Carmine walks away from the table and is stop by the Pit Boss.)

PIT BOSS: Excuse me, sir. It looks like you are upset and I’d like to give you this comp.

(Carmine looks at the slip of paper.)

CARMINE: This entitles me to a free buffet? I just lost $700 in this dump and you give me a coupon for a buffet? Get the F(BLEEP) OUTTA HERE!

PIT BOSS: Sir, there is no need for that. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.

CARMINE: I was already heading out, jackass! I wipe my ass with your comp.

(Carmine takes the slip of paper and wipes his ass with it. Crumpling it up on the floor. He steals a drink from a player at the roulette wheel, slams it down, and walks outside the casino.)

(Outside the Tropicana, Jimmy Two Times is talking to the valet.)

TWO TIMES: Look here you little prick. I know I had a f(BLEEP)in’ Frank Sinatra Christmas CD in my f(BLEEP)in’ CD player – CD player. You bring me my car and it’s tuned in to some f(BLEEP)in’ hip-hop station – hip-hop station? My mirrors are all f(BLEEP)ed up and you got my seat leaned all the way back – all the way back. Do I look like I’m 7 feet tall, motha’ f(BLEEP)er – motha’ f(BLEEP)er?

(Valet looks down at Two Times and nods his head ‘no’.)

TWO TIMES: That’s what I f(BLEEP)in’ thought – f(BLEEP)in thought! Now fix my s(BLEEP) back the way it was – way it was and hurry the f(BLEEP) up – the f(BLEEP) up. Do you know who the f(BLEEP) I am – I am?

(The valet fixes everything back in its original place and finishes just as Carmine Esposito exits the casino.)

CARMINE: Hey Jimmy. They got me for seven.

TWO TIMES: Seven large – seven large?

CARMINE: No…did you think I would get up that big and lose it all? Come on Jimmy, I am a pro. I know when to walk away.

TWO TIMES: Carmine, I think I know better than that – better than that. You seem to forget how much you lost to me in the Dolphins-Chargers last weekend – last weekend.

CARMINE: What the hell was that all about? I talked to Johnny back East and he told me that it was money in the bag. I thought our guys sent some hookers to Chris Chambers’ hotel room the night before. He had two touchdowns…TWO! AH MAMA MIA! How does that happen? How?

TWO TIMES: It’s called crack, Carmine – Carmine. I don’t care what those NFL pricks say, alls them players have whizzanators – whizzanators. (Phone rings.) Hold on kid – kid. I gotta take this call – this call.

(Jimmy speaks to someone on his cell phone and hangs up after a few seconds.)

TWO TIMES: It was those guys from the front office – front office. You somehow impressed them because this week you are in the main event – main event.

CARMINE: Jimmy, you were right. You told me I would be headlining Vegas just like Ol’ Blue Eyes. Here I am, not even here a month, and I am at the top of LVW.

(Smiles and looks up at the sky. Then remembers what happened in his last match.)

CARMINE: Hey! What happened in that match last week with El Gordo Grande? What were you thinking? You went to club him with the chair and smacked me in the coglione.

TWO TIMES: Carmine, it was a simple mistake – simple mistake. I told you I would make it up to you and it’s this week – this week.

CARMINE: So who do I fight? Is it a rematch with El Gordo Grande? I know I can take him.

TWO TIMES: Nope, get this – get this. Mitch Grey and the Living Dead versus “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito and Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak.

CARMINE: Wait a minute, did you just say Mitch Grey? That son of a finocchio owes me money. I loaned him a dollar for the snack machine and the guy stiffed me! He’s got some piscione if he thinks I am gonna let him get away with that. I loan one guy a dollar and let them stiff me…then everyone I loan a dollar to will stiff me. It’s gotta stop and I have to let the wrestlers of LVW know that nobody…but nobody takes advantage of “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito! Ain’t that right, Jimmy?

TWO TIMES: That’s right – that’s right.

CARMINE: And the Living Dead? He’s gonna be called the Dead Dead after our match this week. I’m gonna do to you what the Gambino’s did to Hoffa. My people have ways of erasing problems that won’t seem to go away.

TWO TIMES: (Laughs.) You remember the story about Tommy Francello and the meat grinder – meat grinder. (Laughs.)

CARMINE: A timeless classic. My pops would tell that story to me every night before I went to bed.

TWO TIMES: What do you know about Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak?

CARMINE: I don’t know much except he’s a monster and as long as he is on my team…there is no way we can lose. I hate Americans too…remember, I’m Italian! AY!

(Does some Italian gestures with his hands.)

CARMINE: And Nowak…if you know what’s good for you…you’ll do exactly as me and Jimmy me tell you. Got it, leccaculo? This international alliance we got can do big things here in LVW. You better keep that in mind this week, because it might help you out later down the line. Capiche?

TWO TIMES: Alright Carmine, stop rambling – rambling. Get in the f(BLEEP)in’ car and let’s head over to Boardwalk - Boardwalk. I gotta pick-up over there - over there.

CARMINE: Whatever you say, Carmine.

(Jimmy and Carmine get in the car and drive off as the sun begins to set.)


12-16-05, 08:25 PM
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans in front of an LVW backdrop.)

MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my innocent reaming Beast…he **** in this hellhole and it actually smell better. That’s what Hans do. He pull pant down, and spread joy of his inner being. Many men share knowledge through books and pointless TV trivia, but my Hans, my bubbly boy one day to make a bridal gown blush…he believe in organic giving. If you pick up Hans crap and smell (Miss Ann takes a deep breath) you know you’re not as good as man. And Mitch Grey, Living dead you are not as good of man.

HANS: (flexes) Ruahaahahahahahahahahahaha.

MISS ANN: If you’re home watching on your small anal log TV set you can not understand what Big Dicked Ox is saying, but I, Miss Ann a real woman, NOT one of you Americans with a (censor) as big as a purse. I translate for you. Hans say, wait. Hans I missed last part?

HANS: (Annoyed) Ruahahahahahahahahahah. Grr.

MISS ANN: Yes. Yes it all comes to me now. Hans say, “He beat American ass and make up for shame and disgrace LVW throw upon him last week. Match not over. Match never over until Hans “More Girth Than You’re Worth” Nowak say its over. Living Dead just some American punk who sniffed glue as a child and believe Ozzie really say Suicide serious solution. Dead, injustice suffered last week will be corrected. Right Hans?

HANS: (emphatic) Ruaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Grr. Grr.

MISS ANN: Okay. Hans not write book yet, but he tell story in ring. Story already told. Hans winner. Look at these massive arms (Hans flexes) Look at those round…



MISS ANN: My. (clears her throat) Carmine Esposito. Look around. You not in Penny Marshall bosom any more. On this show you do as Miss Ann and Hans say. Or you die. Yes, you die. And neither the Big Dicked Ox, or myself feel remorse. Hans?


(Hans leaps at the camera man)


12-17-05, 08:13 PM
Fade into "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan on a computer, surfing the World Wide Web. He's looking at some escort sites, to try and score him some premium, first-class ass after the show on KCLV Ch. 2.

JD: Yeehaw, this here Internet is the bestest dang invention since the bullrope or bar-beeee-cue sauce on ribs. I gots all kinds of Orientals and wetbacks and even some of them colored wimmens. Yee-haw, I can find them all, 'cept Brazilian chicks.

Jimmy sighs

JD: What I wouldn't do to get my paws on some sweet Brazilian poontang.

Suddenly, Jimmy's web surfing is interrupted by a computerized voice.

Computer: You've got mail.

JD: Yeee haw! I got one of them fancy eeeee-lectronic mails!

Jimmy clicks on the mailbox and opens the new e-mail from the LVW webmaster, who sends everyone promotional footage in mpeg format.

JD: Well I'll be a varmint's daddy. Maybe this is that Web Browser fellow telling me where I can finds that sweet Brazilian poontang!

Jimmy opens the attachment. It details how badly Web Browser hates Jimmy Donovan and what he's done to the Internet and how he's not going show Jimmy where to get sweet Brazilian poontang or even pictures and movies of guys nailing sweet Brazilian poontang. Jimmy's not a very happy camper right now. A look of hate grows on his face.

JD: That son of a *****! Oh man, and I was all nice and stuff. I even asked all polite.

Dagnabbit, I guess I'm gonna have to whip his ass all over the Strip until he tells me where I can gets me some sweet Brazilian poontang.

'Til then, I guess I gotsta keep lookin' on Google.

Jimmy sighs, as the camera fades to the LVW logo.

12-20-05, 01:48 AM
(ORPP: Sorry I spaced on this one. *Really* busy week. It killed me. But damnit, I have risen from the grave, and returned to write a last minute FW post that will annoy everyone involved.)

(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, mop of greasy hair obscuring his face, sloppily applied black facepaint design showing through. Standing with arms folded across a faded Happy Noodle Boy T-shirt…LVW logo backdrop, cuz Mitch don’t go to no casinos…)

“the last goth monster”

Well. You’ve all gone and made absolute douchebags out of yourselves. And now I’m supposed to say something about that. Spiffy.

Ummmm…..Uh…Okay, I’ve got one Mafioso guy doing the buddy comedy thing with his manager sidekick guy, and a big dumb non-English speaking guy. What the f(bleep)k am I supposed to be working with here?

Maybe you’re both really great athletes, maybe not, I don’t know. I just don’t find any of this particularly amusing. The only person involved with this match who’s less interested in you two than me is my tag team partner. That actually doesn’t bode well for us.

In the meantime, I don’t recall owing you a dollar Carmine. I sat through your promo segment though. That’s five minutes you can never give back to me. I’d say that squares us.

I’m not brash enough to assume you’re not really in the mob, but if so, still not impressed. You could send your buddies to kill me. So could the assholes in the trailer park down the street from my apartment. So could a lot of high school kids. But somehow, they’re afraid of me instead. It’s a funny world like that sometimes. Funnier than you two schlocky third wave Little Guido guys.

You’re gonna make Living Dead Dead Dead? (shakes his head) Maybe you aughta give yourselves a good hearty punch in the face for that one.

S’far as Hans Nowak and Miss Ann are concerned, I really don’t care what country are from. I don’t care if you care what country I’m from, and I don’t care how big your dick is.

Remember, I’m the monster on this show. I compensate for my lack of a good catchphrase, comic sidekick, or satirical social statement, with my ability to be large and beat people up.

So don’t f(bleep)k with me.

01-03-06, 03:58 AM
Your RP here.

01-03-06, 03:59 AM
Your RP here.

01-03-06, 04:12 AM
Your RP here.

01-03-06, 04:14 AM
It's technically a jobber match - throw up an RP.

01-03-06, 04:15 AM
Your RP here.

01-03-06, 04:17 AM
Your RP here.

01-03-06, 04:24 AM
Bally's Resort Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, Nevada

ZOOM IN: A man standing with his hands on his hips in the middle of the grand entrance to Bally's. Dressed in a cheaply BeDazzled vintage jumpsuit, he stands still while the camera pans around him: hands on his hips, hair billowing in the late night desert air, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

Suddenly, he moves!


Stretching the jumpsuit to the limits, E.A.P. kicks out at the camera and follows up with a judo chop that misses by a mile. Off balance, and intoxicated, the man falls on his ass. Trying to recover gracefully is out of the question as he is quickly entangled in the flowing cape behind him.

A few bystanders, not knowing what is happening, reach out to help Elvis, but he vehemently denies the help, and even screams out "Watch the hair, lady!" at more than one lady.

Finally back on his feet, he grins and strikes a historic Elvis Presley pose: fingers pointed, hips askew, mouth...sneering.

ELVIS: "Listen up, kiddies, ain't no time like the now for the King to come home to LVW! After all, you can't have anything happen in Las Vegas without me being there.

Many disbelievers will dispute that I am NOT the true Elvis Aaron Presley, but they'd be wrong. See, after I was abducted by aliens in 1977, I spent many years in space, spreading the gift of song and dance and crappy "beach blanket" movies to neighboring galaxies.

In space, time moves by slowly, and hence, I remained un-furrowed and chisled from marble.

Now I have returned, my babies, and will jump and shout, twist and swivel, and dance and strut my way to victory in the EL-VEE-DUBYA!


Now, I know that Las Vegas will live on long past me, but one man, oh he's one bad dude too, will not be living much longer! He's the Living Dead, and he gives me the heebee-geebees!

But I'll tie up my blue suede shoes tight, and not even heavy Las Vegas traffic will keep me from this match, because I have a secret weapon to make it to kick off Week Three!

Living Dead, baby, don't be cruel!


We're about to put on a show that will blow away the box office receipts from Change of Habit, and, chances are, you'll go over bigger than Mary Tyler Moore!

Now, I got to go open for that hack, Celine Dion down at Caeser's Palace."

Elvis begins to strut down the strip, signing autographs, and singing "You're So Square (And I Don't Care)".


01-03-06, 03:57 PM
We are live at LVW's New Year Show, with the crowd whooping it up, looking forward to some insane matches. Yeah, amidst all this hype, the lights dim, and the TitanTron (or whatever we call that big screen at the ramp area; we must have one, right?) lights up, revealing a scene that is marked "Last Night."

The camera is now trained on a busy Las Vegas scene, shined brightly by streetlights and a full moon. Tall buildings line up next to sidewalks. The camera swings over between two buildings, and suddenly darkens, as it's facing an alleyway. A bright green dumpster can be seen vaguely, as can a dark in this alley. The camera zooms in, to reveal the shadow as a short African-American male, wearing a blue basketball jersey and jean shorts. As the camera centers its focus on him, he begins to speak.

"Yo dawgs. The name's Shorty. Yeah, I'm the new guy in LVW, and tonight, I'm rarin' to show ya'll what I'm made of."

With this, Shorty back towards the wall of the alley.

"Now, I've been watchin' the first couple o' weeks of this show. I've seen some interestin' things, no doubt. But still, I kept tellin' myself at the end, 'Shorty dawg, there's somethin' missin'. I thought 'bout it for awhile now, but 'twasn't till two nights ago that I figured out what that missin' link was."

Shorty, whose back was facing the camera, now turns around towards the camera again. There is a disgusted look on his face.

"Oh, yeah, it was ratha obvious, now wasn't it? I mean, look at that damn rosta. We've got an internet impersonata, fake zombies, cowboys... This place is a dump, made up of all the misfits management could find. I mean, this place is supposed to be 'Takin' it to the obscene.' It ain't doin' that; instead, it's 'Takin' it to hell.'"

Shorty walks forward now, towards the open road ahead of him, his neckalace whipping around at the front of his neck.

"An' when I figured out what was wrong, I knew that only I could fix up this sh!t. I mean, I'm Fly, dawgs. Flya than anyone of 'em backstage, wonderin' how much weirda they can be. I'm a gangsta; I'm the symbol of what's right, and they're just the opposite of that. It's time to bring LVW out of the cellar of stupidity, and I'm gonna f*ckin' go out and do that."

"Right, so tonight, I'm startin' up 'gainst an obese wannabe Luchador, by the name of El Gordo Grande. Look man, I haven't wrestled here yet, but the talent must be thin in Las Vegas if you're still 'round afta two weeks. I guess the sayin's true; 'Third time's the charm.' In this case, the third time ya get yo' ovagrown @ss to the ring, ya won't be gettin' up off of it."

"Yeah, it seems like the road to the LVW World Championship will be an easy one. It's got some obstacles in the form of 250+ poundas, but they're really quite puny. All I gotta do is stomp on 'em, and when I do, they'll crumble. LVW's goin' Gangsta, foo's."

With that Shorty walks out of the alley, a smirk on his face, as the scene fades, and LVW gets to a commercial break.

01-03-06, 04:26 PM

The scene is the Pahrump Brothel in the Vegas outskirts, one of "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan's favorite hangouts. Sure enough, Jimmy D. is in the lobby, waiting on his special "appointment" to greet him. Jimmy loves cutting promos from brothels, so there's a camera crew there too.

JD: Well now, I reckon that Web Browser is gonna think twice before he refuses a kindly request from me, "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan, to find me some sweet Brazilian poontang after I done did what I said I was gonna done do to him if he didn't done do what I wanted him to done do for me.

I'm not the kinda cowboy who takes kindly to bein' wronged now. I think I done sent that message last week when all thems fancy rules faw rasslin' was in place an' stuff. Now, I gets to really get down an' dirty, kinda like when I fancy myself one of them Kraut hookers who like to poop on you durin' sex. Only difference is I don't see no poop gettin' spread 'round the arena unless Big Mitch Grey done poops his pants durin' the course of the match.

Y'see Mitch, when you done laid me out wit' a chair after the first shindig we had at Mandalay, you done did the second worst thang anyone coulda done, an' that's show bad sportsmanship. The only thing I hates more than bad sportsmanship is getting my hog bit durin' a blowjob. Darn tootin', the only time I ever done hit a woman is when they bite down on my ding-dong, cuz that sh*t stings like nothin' else.

But now, I gets to return the favor, cuz there ain't no rules in this match other than kick the livin' bejesus out of yer opponent, and there's two things I'm good at, bangin' a girl wit'out ever kissin' 'em on the lips and kickin' the livin' bejesus outta folks who done wronged me like you did, Mitch.

So don't feel bad when I caves yer head in with a chair this time around, pardner. Cuz ya really deserved it.

Payback, much like a hooker who ain't been paid after a good lay, is a b*tch.

Fade to the LVW logo.

01-03-06, 04:29 PM
bumpin' Vegas style

01-04-06, 01:50 AM
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans Nowak in front of an LVW backdrop. Miss Ann looking sinful, and Hans...preoccupied as he tries to bend a thick metal rod.)

MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my beautiful rotten tomato, do you know what stink truly is?

(Hans ponders the question for a second with a quick eye movement that would make Deniro cry, then continues bending a metal rod.)

MISS ANN: Stink is making my sweet endowment of riches climb, nay, LOOK at a ladder, as if he’s some sort of common thief. Some uneducated dry handed bonerless (CENSOR) who must build rich man’s house. Or climb to wife’s window at night, and slip in for good ****. Yes, the American man always wanting foreigners to do work for them. Here sow this piece of cloth into the teddy bear’s back, here, make baby doll cry when it hungry and pee cow’s urine for real. Here, make plastic transform from Dino back into man, here, please my wife’s stiff, cold, areola and tag me when the ***** needs to go shopping. American men, never wanting to do own work. Hans can’t wait for the day when the Huns come back and destroy this lazy empire too!

HANS: Areola. Grrrrrrrr.

MISS ANN: Oh, my hard Hans….read a book last week Esposito. “Ready, Set, Grow: A Guide to a teenage girl’s body.” He read it Carmine, to better understand the women who give birth to American men. You don’t judge a man’s **** without knowing his butcher, yes? Hans read first English novel to get idea of woman that shoot such ignorance from vagina.

HANS: Vagina. Grrrrrr.

MISS ANN: Hans by any country’s law is educated, and should only see a ladder when he’s pushing some poor **** under it to curse the poor boy for looking Hans in the eyes. But, here in Vegas…Hans city to soon rule…he’s told THAT HE’ S WRESTLING WITH A LADDER? No, protect sea ports! Tell Air Marshalls to stop gunning down deranged Americans in need of meds. Tell GM it needs bodies to make a better car, but don’t tell my Body of God to climb a ladder to earn paycheck!

HANS: Areola. Grrrrr.

MISS ANN: Espositio…tell your lover, Hans not for sell. How can you buy a man who possess everything? And what he MAY not already have…he can take from another man? Hans take 25k….spit on ladder….win second match, and then….go to stage B and rape French singer and white Tiger who ate Roy.


MISS ANN: (Ann feels Hans up) Yes you do. Ravish me you savage beast. Ravish me like shy boy in Catholic church!


John Doe
01-05-06, 06:36 PM

El Gordo Grande at a Taco Bell. Taco with fiesta sauce in one hand, large coke in the other as he looks at the camera. A smirk on his face as he wipes his mouth.


“There is problem with America, believe me for the amount of weeks I have been here I have noticed it more and more. As I look at some Americans who have disgraced their own country. The country puts people into schools, they help you if you allow them, and throughout the kindness the government of this foreign country shows others just don’t grasp full advantage of that chance. People like Shorty.”

“If Americans want to know why the average citizen’s taxes are so high, ask Shorty. His attempts of gaining food stamps and government aid are because he is jobless. LVW hired him because they needed a hand and they felt sorry. Doubt me? My theory as stated is enough to prove it, by means of the way he speaks. Incomplete sentences, grammar issues, and not to be surprised incorrect pronunciations of words.”

“Giving me the final result and more importantly conclusive result that he never finished school. Now he lives on food stamps and card board pieces of paper stating “Homeless, Food, Money. God Bless”. God bless who? You? Get the hell out of here gangster your futile attempt to be a gang banger and your incompetent chance of making money of the hustle is makes me giggle…just like you ability in the ring”

“World Championship Belt? Ha! You kidding, people like you don’t win belts, they win nothing. Because you failed in life. And people don’t like failures. This is suppose to be your second chance, but it’s not as easy as begging outside of the local McDonalds. This is a test of strength and ability something you don’t acquire.”

“Potentially you believe you are the best newcomer to have hit the stage. This is LVW bud, there is no one great, except the fans whom put their money in our pockets so you avoid the repo-man. I personally believe men like you drain the company in the long wrong because your ego manhandles the best of you. I take it day by day match by match, and because of that mentality I overcome every enemy in my path.”

“Unlike you Shorty I plan on making myself as successful as Jonathan Marx and John Doe. You live in the glimpses of succeeding like Trevor Cane and that nobody El Arco Iris. And because of my pursuit to the spot light I will never be stopped.”

“You are just another fish in the sea. You are at the guppy I am the blue f*cking whale. Get the picture kid? I have worked long and hard in this promotion and because of that I will prevail once more, you are looking at 3-0 for me whore. Read them and weep it son, I draw a full house you nobody, that’s why I get paid to do what I do, point proven. Ready aim fire.”



01-06-06, 08:27 PM
(FADEIN: Sir Simon Smith standing in a parking lot behind Mandalay Bay.)

SMITH: "Where the hell is this guy, I know he's a 9 time bracelet winner, but damn it, the dice are calling to me!"

(A grey BMW pulls up, Bill Bellmoth steps out)

"My driver got sick... (Faked sincerity) Sorry...Sorry"

“You can relax now Sir Sam or whatever your meaningless name is, the great Bill Bellmoth 9 time World Series of Wrestling Champion has arrived, I will give you a moment to think about how great I am, ::IMMIDEATELY SAYS:: that’s long enough, you don’t deserve to ponder my greatness any longer.

I can’t believe I am being fed ANOTHER green jobber like this Jonathon Nash. In my last match I set the guy up perfectly the whole match and have him right where I planned to, and lose when he gets the miracle roll up out of no where, and the only thing they can find me after that is this guy? I am a NINE TIME World Series of Wrestling champion, this idiot can’t even SPELL champion, and has no business in the same ring with someone of my stature.

You want to make a name for yourself in this business kid? Go ask the other top 5 wrestlers in this business; you are never going to do it with the amateur moveset you have, and since the brain trust that run this glorified indy promotion have decided that you have done something to deserve the honor of getting in the ring with the best in the business, I am going to have to teach you the way a match is supposed to be wrestled.”

::Walks off in disgust::

01-07-06, 07:55 AM


As Vegas' resident re-animated 'rassler, the LIVING DEAD, chews some kind of meat off of a bone bearing uncanny resemblence to the fibula, the baddest white, female, suburban MC to hit the biz, MC LUSCIOUS BOOTY DIVA X, steps to forefront, peers into the camera, and begins to drop science.

Check this shizz, aight?!

She licks her lips, rocks her head from side to side, then continues.

Last week, some serious negah sh(FCC)t went down, ya feel me?

She cracks a mischevious grin and begins to gyrate her hips.

Shoooooot, y'all WISH you could feel me!!! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaay-uuuuuuuuuumm!!

Agitated by her sudden outburst, the Living Dead angrily tosses his bone off-camera

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrnnngggh!!! GAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!

Hold up son, no need to get sick like Tiny Tim up in here! Besides, ain't you thrown enough bones for one day? I can't even walk straight, honey-bunz!


Diva giggles to herself like a schoolgirl, then returns to the promo in process.

So here's the deal, last week... me n' my guy dun dropped the ball like Reggie Bush in the Rose Bowl while that dizzy fool Hands Slow Wack ran a train on us Vince Young style. But you know what? It's all good. It'saaaaaaaaaall good in da hood. Cuz this week, we gots tha KING of kings, straight out the spaceship and right into Sin City. Fools be flossin' like he's been dead, but ya know what? My pimp here actually IS dead, which means no matter how hard homeboy shakes his hips, he ain't gon' feel a damn thing! Y'all know what that means?

She looks from side to side. No response.

It MEANS that the Living Dead and Luscious Booty Diva X gonna be rollin' hard like the Royal Guard cuz this week, we're gettin' sheish back on track. And after that, Vegas title here we come! Bettah be ready Elvis, cuz we'z about to DO THE CLAM on yo ass!

CUT TO: A close-up of a now infuriated Living Dead.



01-07-06, 04:34 PM
The scene is now a small bar in the outskirts of Vegas. Inside, we find Shorty. As he begins to sip a drink, we can hear him talking:

“Grande! Stop kiddin’ yourself. Your perfectly polished gramma? It don’t exist. Don’t tell me that sh!t wasn’t scripted. Nobody talks like that. There’s no need for ya to get enraged ova me speakin’ normal; ya betta off sittin’ yo’ ovagrown @ss back on yo’ couch, or betta yet, crawlin’ it ova the borda and back where ya came from.”

“No dawg, I made it as far as I could—high school—which is betta than where you are. I mean, it don’t take a PhD to figure out what’s goin’ on here.”

“First thing, who the f*ck’re ya callin’ uneducated? Man, you’re some lame illegal alien. Ya probably lip-synched your speeches, ‘cuz I can’t imagine you sayin’ that sh!t. And this country gives opportunity to all? Dawg, I got more chances to shove soap down yo’ throat than I have chances to get into college. And yo’ chances of passin’ first grade/ As good as yo’ chances of beatin’ me. It jus’ ain’t gonna happen.”

“Second, ya haven’t done nothin’ worthy of talkin’. Wow, you’ve won two f*ckin’ matches! Dammit, I jus’ crapped my pants, I’m so scared! Not! Listen up dawg, you’ve done nothin’ so far. If you’re proud afta two weeks you’ll be somethin’ ya called me. An egomaniac.”

“Yeah, so I admit it. I’m cocky and that’s a fact. I don’t care how pissed off the world is at me, ‘cuz I know that at the end of the day, I’ll get the job done than you or anyone else on the LVW Rosta. And come match time, unlike you, I’ll shut up and prove it.”

“Finally, how dare ya suggest I ain’t Gangsta, huh? Think I’m fakin’ this sh!t? Dawg, I’m from ‘em rough places. I lived on the streets of New York. I know what’s Fly, and I know you’re not. Look at ya, a 260 pounf Luchador, who snuck up ‘cross the boundary of Mexico to provide comic relief to Las Vegas by showin’ the world the crap ya call wrestlin’ skill/ Take notes dawg, if you’re able to write afta this, ‘cuz I’m gonna show ya how it’s done. It’s Fly Time, baby!”

With that, Shorty quickly chugs down his beer, and then goes to leave the bar, as the scene ends.

01-08-06, 05:52 AM
Is it just me, or is FW not updating threads/showing the proper reply count again?

John Doe
01-09-06, 02:59 PM

Las Vegas strip, El Gordo Grande is walking down the street camera behind him his mask is off. The camera is following him as he sits down the camera turns in front of him a blur over his face.


“You better believe I have perfect grammar, and it is because unlike you Shorty I want to succeed in life. No scripts Shorty, no gimmicks, what you see is what you get. Trust me, I fully deliver. There are reasons for my anger about your incorrect English. It’s the fact that I have been a citizen of this country for a couple months, and I speak better than a man grown and raised here. Do you find that odd Shorty? I don’t I find it as though I am becoming a respectable man of this country.”

“As for your racist remark about me traveling the border, well Shorty such quaint remarks would be expected from a man of such low caliber. It’s men such as yourself that make me look like an all star. But mind you the point of out little conversation here Shorty is to prove why I am better than you in the ring. You already have proved that I am better than you verbally.”

“You made it as far as high school. You find it as though that is something to be proud of Shorty. College is where it’s at. Something you are too dull to attend. Something I have applied for. The fact is you didn’t investigate my background before you ran your mouth. I was the top of my class in high school, I studied English inside out. That’s why I can talk properly.”

“You assumed that I am an illegal alien. No Shorty I have citizenship here, if I didn’t I wouldn’t be working now would I? Your idiotic points within your promotions are a laughing stock to this company, its sponsors and the fans. You have had more chances to shove soap in my throat? Shorty I have never seen you in my life, what chances have revealed themselves to you. You proved my exact point by stating you haven’t received any opportunity to go to college.”

“Fact is: You as bright as a dull light bulb.”

“I have done nothing Shorty? I have done more than you have, isn’t that correct? I have put time and effort to build this federation from it’s feet. I have been here since day one. Where were you day one Shorty? Oh yes, you were nowhere doing nothing. Me an egomaniac? Not at all Shorty, I just put myself on a higher standard than you. And I am allowed to because I am that much better.”

“By the way Shorty, I do think your faking that you are a gangster, a true gangster wouldn’t have to address that fact that he is. A real gangster proves he is by the actins he performs. You are all talk no walk Shorty, your faith in yourself will be your undoing.”

“Oh, Shorty, I also think you have no clue what the hell you are talking about. You have no love for this sport, you called me a luchador. Do you know what lucha is Shorty? Lucha is then everything is reversed and moves are fed to the right instead of the left. Obviously you know nothing of the sport and never will.”

“See Shorty, I respect everyone in this promotion except for you. It may mean nothing to you. But it means everything to me. Respect is what holds us together. Come our match the only thin holding you together will be your tendons.”


01-09-06, 09:54 PM
(FADEIN: A handheld camera, very unsteady, very ‘Blair Witch’ like, it is moving down several dark corridors, the guy behind the camera obviously not very confident of where he is going, the low guy on the totem pole who got the worst assignment, suddenly we hear a moan down one of the hallways and we reluctantly follow down, and then we see a figure in a distance, sitting up against a wall, head into his legs, his knees bent, as the camera comes closer we see his clothes are tattered, but when he raises his head, we can see the blood trickling down his face, this man was once one of the true young lions of wrestling, and this is what he has now become, this is Jonathan Nash)

“They said you were coming, so that we should be expecting you. It has been a long, long time since anyone has come to seek out our services. It must be a unique place, one that does not wish to leave anyone with an easy stomach. It must be a place that thrives on the pain of others, this... Las Vegas. We were there a long time ago, but that was a much different time.

“The world was a happy place then. We were amongst the beautiful people. Everybody paid money to come see us wrestle, BUT NOT ANYMORE! NOW NO ONE WANTS TO SEE US! NO ONE WANTS TO SEE THIS DISFIGURED FACE!”

(Nash slowly begins sobbing quietly to himself)

“But I will make them want to see us. They will absolutely want to see what the maniac will do next. They want to see just how crazy he is going to be. They see I don’t feel pain, that it just becomes a constant, but I feel the pain. I feel it curdling through me, and it is the only thing that keeps me going through the night.

“You live an amazing existence when pain is your only friend, your only visitors the rats that search for crumbs and become your meal. (Laughs) But people will embrace us, they will embrace the madness.

“People enjoy seeing the oddities, they enjoy what they do not comprehend, and they will not comprehend us. NO! THEY HATE US! STOP IT! THEY WILL LOVE US! F*** YOU! NO! F**** YOU!!”

(He begins spasming and going into pseudo-convulsions, the camera shaking even more as our poor camera man tries to stand motionless, and after over a minute of shaking, Nash again returns to a quiet, subdued man)

“I’m sorry about that, sometimes we just can’t get it all together. But as I was saying, people will embrace the madness. They will want to see how far the man who enjoys pain will go. And pity be it to any man that comes up against me.

“You have to ask yourself.... if a man has absolutely no regard for his own body, how will he regard others?”

(He begins laughing hysterically)

“I guess you’re going to have to tune in to find out.”

(Nash begins crackling frantically as the cameraman retreats frantically, FADEOUT)

01-10-06, 11:00 PM
ORPP – Sorry, sorry, I know I dropped the ball, everything’s been kinda f(bleep)ked up on my end, I’ll try to do better next time…Sorry especially to JA.)

(CUEUP: “third season” by AFI….)
(CUTTO: A seedy motel room, somewhere on the outskirts on Reno Nevada. The lights are off, and a large mound of human lies curled up on the bed, eye squinting, lip bitten, cold sweat…we hear voices in the background….)

COLD, MECHANICAL V/O: We’re building a brave new company, and you don’t fit in anymore.

WOMAN’S V/O: The last three years meant nothing. You are a tool.

YOUNG BOY’S V/O: You failed us…

TOXICK WHITE (anyone remember him?) V/O: I always knew you’d come back. You never really had any choice but to come back. You belong to the madness. You will never be a person. This is all you are.

GREY: F(bleep)K NO!!! NOT AGAIN!!! (sits up, panting, eyes wide, startled as hell…)

(about 20 seconds pass with mitch staring at the wall….Then Mitch rolls over and clamps the pillow around his head…Then the cell phone on the nightstand rings…)

GREY: (picks up the phone) Yeah?....Who says?.....Ugh, yeah…whatever….

(rolls out of bed, scratches his eyes, and puts his socks on…)

01-10-06, 11:36 PM
We fade into what appears to be a soup kitchen lunch line. An old black man, wearing a toboggan and what would be called a sweater, passes by as something resembling green mashed potatoes is slapped on his plate. As the camera stays focused ahead, the black man exits the shot and a man with a crooked tie and ripped white dress shirt steps into the spot. We notice that this man is the best damn data processor in LVW, The Web Browser. He watches the slop hit his plate as he speaks.

WB: Pfft…

Some kind of land of opportunity.

“Come see the city of lights!”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!”

Browser snarls.

WB: Well, let me let you in on another fabulous Las Vegas jingle.

What happens outside of Vegas, leaves you cold and stranded in the damn streets of Vegas.

Browser grabs his tray and makes his way toward the table. He slams down the tray before taking his seat.

WB: What most people don’t realize is that a close to six-digit income doesn’t so jack for you if the right card is played at the wrong time.

It doesn’t matter what the game is, some way or another, the house is going to screw you in the end.

And just like with the house, America will soon get the better of everyone.

Ask the people who were invested at Enron. Ask Nixon…well, he might not answer with being dead and all, but ask Bill Clinton what life on the edge of America is like.

Browser takes a bite out of a biscuit, or at least tries to. He quickly grabs his teeth in pain before launching the biscuit across the room.

WB: And now, just like in America, The Web Browser is being screwed again.

It wasn’t enough for “Wild” Billy D to simply get the win and shake my hand like man.

No. Instead, he had to take the win and run for the hills.

Run for the coverage and sanctity that only the LVW front office could give him.

All I wanted was a damn rematch. A chance to prove to Jimmy Dean and the rest of the morons in LVW that what he did was a once in a lifetime chance.

That once the Browser steps foot into that mind numbing structure that is a wrestling ring, there’s no stopping a man that’s already on the run.

But what do I get instead?

I get a damn rock for a biscuit and a rematch…

With William Simmons.

Browser looks to the ground and shakes his head in disappointment.

WB: You all may remember Mr. Simmons.

I damn near ended his career last time we were in that ring.

And now, he’s begging for a rematch.

Well, guess what. He got his damn rematch.

Can Web Browser get a rematch? Hell no. But William Simmons sure as hell can.

Well, let me tell you what’s going to happen now…

William Simmons is going to get his damn rematch, but he’s not going to like it.

Because this time, I will break his damn neck. And then…

Then, I will get MY rematch with “Cowboy” James. And James too, will feel the wrath of the Web Browser.

And after I break his neck, it will take him a long damn time to download all his information back into that already feeble little mind.

Browser snarls again as he takes a bite of the green mashed potatoes. He quickly spits them out and flips the tray into the air.

Son of a *****!

01-11-06, 12:54 AM
(FADEIN: Streetsigns, "Fremont St." criss-crossing with "6th St." The camera pans to the right revealing the white outside of the El Cortez parking garage smothered with a shadow, then down to JACK HOUSE.

JACK HOUSE stares into the lens with his lips pursed - white button-down shirt open, white wife-beater underneath against his dark skin, a glimpse of his black slacks in the frame - right hand gently playing with his bearded chin. HOUSE slaps his own chest with the hand, and grunts.)

JACK HOUSE: "Y'all thought Jack House went quiet, huh? Disappear into the night, talkin' gibberish 'bout killin' punk-ass LEGENDS in this here city of fool's gold."

"Naw aw. Jack House been busy. Fools caught wind of the HOUSE wantin' PAYBACK, and they ran and hid, like they do wit' their money... put away on some island - tax shelter they callit. I callit STEALING and HIDING from the HOUSE."

"Well-eye FOUND a couple'em mutha[BEEEEEEEP]as, aw yeah. (Points at glass eye) EYE know where they at, and EYE know how to get to'em. Allits gonna take... is havin' the EYE of the TIGER, and I ain't talkin' no Rocky bull[BEEEEEEP]. Gonna have'ta go out and deal me some (clasps hands) BLACKJACK!"

(HOUSE laughs, then looks closer into the lens.)

"An' after I'm done, I gots some business to take care of IN THE RING. That's right, I seen all the yappin', talk 'bout becomin' the first LVW World Champ, becomin' a NEW LEGEND in this town. ANOTHER mutha[BEEEEEEP]a lyin' and cheatin' his way t'having people call him something he AIN'T."

"Well boys, this is where the HOUSE comes in. The ODDS are on my side. While y'all be askin' for some INSURANCE, I'll be takin' in the BIG PRIZE, and I'mma gonna do it STRAIGHT UP, and do what no one's evah done in Vegas, and that's EARN mah money, and EARN mah bein' called the FIRST - TRUE - LEGEND... of Las Vegas."



01-16-06, 10:35 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:35 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:36 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:37 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:38 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:39 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:40 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 10:40 AM
Your RP here.

01-16-06, 11:33 PM
WARNING: The following promotional segment contains graphic sexual content. If you are under the age of 18 or are a tightly-wound asshole from the PTC (the censorship folks, not the fine community of narrative RP feds found at www.primetimecentral.net) or a fundy Christian group, please do not read this, because most likely, your non-sense of humor having ass will not find it amusing.

If you're a normal human being, then by all means, read away.

The scene is one of the rooms at the Pahrump Brothel, where "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan is sitting on the bed.

JD: Yer gon' have to excuse the surroundin's this week, cuz they done mixed mah first promotional time wit' an appointment I done made three weeks ago to get Fabiola, the Spanish Blowjob Queen. Yee-haw, I heard she done gives the best head this side of the Pecos River. Ya have to book it that far in advance, y'know?

Anyhoo, now that I done settled my score wit' that dirty varmint Mitch Grey, I can set mah sights on...

The door opens, and in walks a stunning brunette, wearing a fire-red negligee, red stockings and high heels. It's Fabiola, Jimmy's appointment.

Fabiola: Alright Cowboy, ees time for Fabiola to rock your world.

JD: Hey, senyerita, d'ya mind if I done talk into this camera here while you're slobberin' on my knob? I gots some work I gots to take care of.

Fabiola: Fabiola cares not what you do while she rocks your world. She only cares that you don't eenterrupt the best blowjob this side of the Pecos.

JD: Oh believe me, I won't do that, ma'am.

Cowboy Jimmy stands up and Fabiola bends down so that she's out of the shot. You can hear her unzip Jimmy's pants.

JD: Now, Gladiator, what you done did with that piani wire was darn tootin' wrong... oh yeah, don't stop, Jimmy likes it when you do that... uh... I mean, no, Jimmy don't like the piani wire, and he's gonna... oh Gawd yes, yes, don't stop, don't you ever, ever stop... but yeah, umm... Gladiator... I ain't appreciate it when you tried... uhhh... uhh, chokin' me wit' that there piani wire. Oh yeah, now just stroke mah shaft too, yeah, like that... awww... err, but yeah, Gladiator, you done did the deed now, and you gots to pay for what you done did to me after mah ma... ma... oh my God, keep doin' that, just gargle them balls in yer mouth... oh yeah... yer the best on both sides of the Pecos... match! Mah match wit' Mitch Grey. If you think I'm gonna let that slide, yer about as crazy as a coyote runnin' headlong into a barb wire fence. An' another thing... yeah, just, just keep doin' that, yeah... that... oh yeah.... oooh... ahhh... yeah... yeeaaah... YEEEEEEEE-HAAAWWWW!

Jimmy sighs audibly and has a look of near-bliss on his face. Off camera, a gulp is heard.

JD: Hey sweetie, y'mind stayin' down there 'til I finish up?

Fabiola: off-camera Fabiola will stay down here only for an extra 75 dollarss.

JD: Awwright, awright, I'll pay up later.

Jimmy clears his throat.

JD: What was I sayin'? Oh yeah, that wasn't very hospitable of ya to be attackin' me after my match and tryin' to take me out with that piani wire, Gladiator. I mean, I know you and yer kin down at the Caesar's Palace probably got sick eatin' off the buffet clams cuz they gots botulism, but that's no reason to be takin' it out on me or any of the other fine folks over at Mandalay Bay, where our clams have been botulism for over 90 days now, I reckon.

Fabiola: Deed you just plug your hotel on my time?

JD: Shut up *****, that's where yer overtime money's comin' from.

But I ain't needin' none of that crap after mah matches. Hell, it always seems like someone's tryin' to whack me after I done pulled out a hard-fought win or draw now.

Well, I done taught Mitch Grey a lesson after he done walloped me wit' a chair. Now, I guess I gots to teach you. Cuz I'll be darned-tootin' if I let you beat me and take away mah chance to be the first and best dang World Champion this place has done ever seen. Yee-haw~!

Fabiola: Can Fabiola come up now?

JD: Yeah sugar, I'm done.

Fabiola rises back on shot as Jimmy pulls his wallet out to pay her for her overtime. The screen fades to the LVW logo.

The Great Eye
01-17-06, 03:12 AM
(FADEIN: GLADIATOR, wearing a black toga and black tights covering his legs. His hands have thick brown gloves on them normal precautionary measure when one handles Piano Wire as often as he does. Next to Gladiator is a chair that has a white button up T-Shirt, a tie, and dress pants neatly folded up. on it.)

GLADIATOR: "You wake up in the morning, and it's another day, another dollar, you put on the shirt and tie...You say hi to your boss...You get into your little office...You call up Joe Six-Pack and you tell him for the 20th time he can't use his gas expenses getting to and from work as a tax write off...You have to listen to Judy Punch-clock complain about not being able to find her receipt for her giant write off to Greenpeace...

Every day...I have to be normal...Every day, I look at that little bottle of pills and wonder if I shouldn't take it...If I should just let myself go...Screw the world...

Then I remember my knee...I worked on it with a torn ACL for about 6 months, when the leagues closed up and the money stopped coming in...How when the doctors saw it, they thought I'd been in a car wreck...How long it took after the surgury to walk normal again, to do anything again...So then, then the pills seem like a good idea...

But not today...No..Today I gotta give it up, I have to tell my body to go **** itself, and to push myself to injure, to maim, to destroy...

To sit here and listen to some guy who's idea of art is having a whore go down on him on camera...(Shakes head) well...I can't say I wasn't wanred about you...But more importantly...You should be warned about me...

I'm the sicko with no empathy...I'm the nutjob with the piano wire...I enjoy slicing people open, I enjoy rivers of blood...I don't win, I destroy...And this isn't talk, it's reality...

And now I'm back, and the LVW World Title is mine for the taking...If I want it...Maybe I'll just leave you in a pool of blood and make it so nobody gets out of our match...Maybe I'll fight to win...I don't know what I'll do, it's only day 1 without the pills...I forget what the old me really was like...

But he'll be back...

Oh yes...He'll be back...


01-17-06, 07:27 PM
(CUEUP: “Red Handed Blue Prints” by The Chainletter…)
(FADEIN: Mitch Grey, leather jacket, faded Queers T-shirt and black jeans, is slumped in the corner of the crappy motel room from the last segment. Lights dimmed, his head bowed, hair hanging over face, all that good stuff….)

“the last goth monster”


Okay, so that last one kinda sucked. F(bleep)k it. It’s over. I know I can beat James Donovan. I just didn’t do it this time. Why not? I don’t know.

I can’t get over this feeling like I’m not supposed to be here. Like the last three months were some sort of bad dream. That I’ll wake up any second now, with my wife still at my side, with my kids happy to see their daddy, with a reasonable, rewarding day at the office to look forward to.

But that’s not gonna happen…(looks up at the camera) Is it?

(stands, flips his hair back, and pulls the chord hanging from the ceiling, turning the lights on) Instead, I’m here, where all I can do is fight people, put up with their ridiculous antics, and hope the promoters remember to pay me.

Instead, I’ve got to deal with Jonathan Nash. One of the crazies, the outcasts, the psychos, one of those who don’t care what happens to them as long as they hurt their opponent, cuz all their care about is pain and so fourth.…y’know, that archetype.

Listen, Jonathan, if you’re out there?...I don’t care if you’re a sadistic, soulless freak. Mostly I don’t take you seriously, because I remember when you were in a stable with Jean Rabesque, but I wouldn’t care anyway. I’ve got nothing to lose.

And that makes me a very dangerous person. More dangerous than I’d care to be. I’m actually making myself nervous….

I don’t want to be here, Jonathan. But I am, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I have to deal with it. (turns the lights back off) And so you do.

01-18-06, 12:07 AM
(FADEIN: A disheveled motel room, the bedclothes ruffled, glasses and empty, leaking brandy bottles spread across the floor. The morning sun stretching its sunlight through a crack in the curtains. A tore condom package lies on the floor. Lying back on the bed, wearing a blue bodysuit with green comets streaking across it with wakes of icicles and a dark blue mask with concentric purple circles, and also red boxer shorts is EL MAGICK-O. Out of his mouth flap, a cigarettes smokes. PAN TO: The door shutting behind a middle-aged woman dashing out in her underwear, wrinkly thighs showing.)

EL-MAGICK-O: As Mrs. Williamson can now attest, as do dozens of middle-aged housewives who hire magicians for their children's birthdays, my greatest trick of all is the earth-shuddering "O". But of course, the "O" in El Magick-O stands for "Orgasm." But so much more!

For ovation!

For odyssey!

For olympic class!

All words describe the greatest live magician in the world, the greatest wrestler, and all-around greatest entertainer!

Did you think it was easy to teleport myself from the House of Blues right here to my motel room suit and wait patiently for Mrs. Williamson? Any normal man would have been broken, but no normal man climbed the hidden mountain ranges of Iceland and trained in the blistering cold with the half-human, half-lama monks of the Order of Crimayala to learn how dance out of rings of fire, to eat knives, swords, and axes....and how to inch right toward death, only to swerve away at the last instant!

And those who failed?

Well, naturally, they became zombies, and followed me on my succesdful Southeatern European tour of only....well...Portugal. They sought to eat my flesh and my brains to learn all the magical secrets stored here from the greatest minds of the greatest escapists, the dark secrets written in the darkest texts, and all my cunning and daring!

And at the third act in every small Portugese fishing village, I'd slay a zombie or two with a flaming sword...then swallow it! Just like the daughters and wives of all the village elders swallowed my other burning, flaming sword later on!

Which is why here in LVW, I don't fear the Living Dead! I've walked toward the fiery pits, and I might have tripped the first time, but I got out of that straightjacket and got back up again!

I fear no evil!

I fear not death!

For I tread the dark paths, those of mystery!

And I'm bringing all that I've found into LVW..to merge the world os magic and professional wrestling....mostly because I wanted to be the Masked Magician but that damn Valentino got the tv contract first...otherwise it would have been me...ME!..exposing magic's secrets for a cool mint.

But fear not, for I've mastered the ancient art of lucah libre...enough to defeat any zombie or walking, living dead!

For when the world is all mirrors, the dead are especially stupid since they can't tell their reflections from each other...and then they think they're in a crowd....and I can see they're..not..and...and...

(El Magick-O pauses, wondering what the hell he's saying.)

Nonetheless, the prestige, the effect of a magic trick, the rabbit out of a hat, for my next greatest trick ever is the LVW World Heavyweight Championship! From there, the World Magic Championship! And more women! More money!

And more TV specials!

So far, mine have only aired in Mexico and were badly dubbed into English.

By me.

But don't worry!

The LVW world title belt will vanish out of all other compeitors' hand...and appear in mine as I hang suspended in Houdini's Upside Down....a glass tank filled with water....and I'll emerge..as I will from my debut match....and as I will from this tournament....


Because I know all the tricks.

01-18-06, 12:10 AM

(The opening of Yngwie Malmsteen's "I Am A Viking" resounds as the camera fades in, close on the dragon's head carved from the bow of a ship as it silently hovers through the air.)



(The camera pulls back to reveal the entirety of the drakkar, and the large man standing with one leg on the bow, smiling proudly at what lies before him as he wears the horned helmet proudly upon his head.)



(The camera pulls out more, revealing that the ship sails not on a sea of water but of sand. Actually, it is firmly secured on a semi bed, which speeds down a two-lane highway stretching across a golden desert. In the distance, the sun sets. The camera, keeping up with the truck, sets itself on this image for a moment. The camera pans left, looking up the road. In the distance, against a purple sky, the neon oasis of Las Vegas looms like a symbolic holy land, the final destination of a voyaging warrior.)


(Cut to a shot on the streets of Vegas. Two men in suits leave a casino, hailing a cab. As they come to the curb, their eyes catch the truck coming down the street. The follow it as it goes by, not looking away from the strange ship and the barbarian upon it. When it disappears, they look to each other and shrug.)

First Man
Now I've seen everything.

Second Man
Can't wait to see that show...

(Cut to another shot as the truck pulls to a stop before the entrance of the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay. From his spot at the front of the ship, Olvir turns to see that he's arrived at his destination. He lets out a triumphant guffaw and quickly finds his battle axe and sword.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Drop Anchor! Take No Prisoners!

(Laughing maniacally, Olvir kicks the plank on the portside to the sidewalk and drops the anchor to the street below. It lands with a heavy metallic thunk, putting an instant divot into the asphalt where it fell. A few passers-by look questionably, some stopping to see what's going on. Cackling, Olvir prances down the the rampway. A young couple who inexplicably happened to be near the unloading zone are blasted aside with a fell swoop of the warriors arm. A homeless man steps forward with a dirtied hand looking for a charitable investment, and is quickly knocked to the ground by the hilt of the Viking's sword.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Feel the wrath of Olvir the Butt-Dominator, puny weaklings!

(The trucker's head appears from the cab window looking somewhat irritated.)

'Ey, mac, I can't sit here all day, this is a fire-hydrant zone!

Olvir Arsvinnar
A warrior worries not about fire hydrants! A warrior does not rest until blood is shed! HA HA HA HA!!

(Olvir takes out another pedestrian and dashes into the House of Blues. Those who had been tossed aside slowly come to their feet, holding their heads or their arms or their backs, all of them looking to the entrance to the House of Blues with classic "What the hell just happened?" expressions. The truck driver, swearing inaudibly, goes back into the cab and pulls away. The metal anchor, being dragged behind it, loudly scrapes up layers of asphalt as it follows the truck around the corner.)

(Cut to the interior of the House of Blues, down one of the side hallways lined with doors. A female employee of ample age and figure slowly makes her way through, going through a stack of papers in her arms. Olvir suddenly appears at the other end and comes bounding her way like a lion released from the cage. The collision sends a flurry of papers into the air as she falls to the floor with a startled yelp.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(With relentless speed, the berserker approaches the door at the end of the hallway, labeled "Las Vegas Wrestling". He charges the door head on, and it's all too obvious what he's about to do.)

(Cut to the interior of the lobby for LVW's offices, as the hulking behemoth comes bursting through the door with a train's force, knocking it completely off its hinges.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Weaklings of Las Vegas Wrestling—THE GREAT OLVIR HAS COME!!

(The camera spins to the receptionist desk, where a wide-eyed, gaping mouthed secretary sits with the phone still at her ear, spectacled eyes staring in shock at the beast that just burst into the room. Slowly, she hangs up the phone.)

Just WHAT THE HELL do you THINK YOU'RE DOING?! Who THE HELL are you, and what THE **** do you WANT?!

(A mighty fists comes slamming down on her desk. The receptionist jumps in surprise.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
I am the Great Olvir Arsvinnar, and my journey is to prove myself as the greatest warrior to have ever lived! I have come here to Las Vegas to do combat with the first of my opponents!

(From a hallway that leads down into the offices, Erik Black, one of LVW’s most esteemed talent representatives, comes out with a furrowed brow.)

Erik Black
Judy, what the hell was that—

(He's cut off immediately as Olvir's sword javelins itself into the wall inches away from his head. He recoils most comically, hand clutching at his heart.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Nobody can sneak up on Olvir the Great, puny man!

Mr. Black, I have no idea who this guy is, but he just came blasting in here looking for someone to beat up!

Erik Black
Oh, my, uh... Mr. Arsvinnar, I presume? Allow me to introduce myself: I’m Erik Black.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah, a fine Viking name! But a man as small as yourself surely would not make an ample sea-faring warrior! You would be better suited as an armor-bearer when a warrior has finished battle! From this day forth, Erik the Tiny, you shall be my personal trell; a noble duty, to serve a great warrior such as myself!

Erik Black
Right, uh, anyhow… I've been expecting you, I just didn't think...

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir does not care for thinking! I will crush my enemies now!!

Erik Black
Whoa, wait a second, big guy… we don’t have any “enemies” here. You can do your thing at the event.

Uh, Judy, could you print up a copy of the card real quick?

(With a look of irritation in her eye, the sharp-faced secretary quickly clacks a few keys on her keypad, and a moment later, the printer nearby spits out a sheet with all the details for LVW’s next card. Erik takes the card in his hand and looks it over. Olvir, meanwhile, being so technologically inept, prods the device with a forefinger and a look of curiosity.)

Erik Black
Hmm… yeah, says right here you’re in the Spades division of the Heavyweight Title tournament. The first round is on our next show, Championship Madness.

Says here your first opponent is Shorty.

(Olvir perks up at this news.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Shorty? An unusual name for a warrior. Why is he called such?

(Erik holds an open-palmed hand at the height of his chest.)

Erik Black
Probably because he’s this tall.

Olvir Arsvinnar
What?! My flesh war-hammer of consummation is longer than that!! For what reason have the Gods of Las Vegas given me such a small and weak opponent! This is an insult to my power!

Erik Black
Well hey, just cause the guy’s a foot shorter than you doesn’t mean he’s without talent. I’m only 5’10”, and I was able to cut it as a wrestler for a while, until I landed this job…

Olvir Arsvinnar
Enough talk! Bring this “Shorty” to me now, so that I may smash him, and move on to a larger, stronger opponent, more worthy of doing battle against me!

Erik Black
Ah, Championship Madness isn’t until a couple weeks.

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir will fight my opponent NOW!!

Erik Black
But, Olvir… your opponent isn’t here right now! We’ve gotta wait until the show goes on here in a couple weeks before you can—

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir waits for nobody! I will seek this “Shorty” out for myself…

Erik Black
Wait a sec, Olvir… let’s just stop for a moment to think about this. Sure, you can go to the place where Shorty lives and beat him there… but will there be anybody around to see it? More importantly, how will you prove you’ve beaten him?

Olvir Arsvinnar
The word of Olvir Arsvinnar is ALWAYS final! If I say I have defeated Shorty, they will believe me, or else I shall crush them!

Erik Black
A thousand years ago maybe, but people these days are really picky… they won’t listen to anything unless you give them cold, hard evidence and stick it right under their noses.

Olvir Arsvinnar
I had the misfortune of being awaken from my icy tomb in an age of weakness, it seems…

Erik Black
Here, Olvir… take my advice. Let’s just wait a couple weeks until Championship Madness, where you’ll be in the ring, in front of thousands of people in attendance and millions more watching at home. If you beat Shorty then, everybody will see it, and they’ll know right away just how great Olvir Arsvinnar truly is.

Olvir Arsvinnar
You speak wisely, tiny Norseman.

Very well… I shall wait until Champion Madness before I destroy this “Shorty”, and I shall do so within the arena, where all eyes will see me in my glory! Then there will be no doubt to who truly is the greatest warrior in the world! HA HA HA HA!

I shall spend the time waiting with more glorious love-making! Here, foul woman! Come with me to my chamber!

(Without warning, Olvir grasps the secretary by the sides and hoists her over his shoulders. She lets out a cry of surprise as the Viking quickly turns and runs through the opening where the door had minutes ago been knocked down. As they retreat down the hallway, we can hear her demands to be let down while the Viking continues to laugh in triumph. From there, we fade to black.)


01-18-06, 09:54 AM
(FADEIN: The familiar scene; corner of Fremont & 6th, outside the El Cortez parking garage, at the peak of dawn, the sun coming in from the east over the mountain-tops lighting up the Valley. JACK HOUSE, huddled up in a black UNLV pullover hoodie, hands inside pockets, sneers at the lens.)

JACK HOUSE: "Psh. (quick laugh) 'Nother mornin'. 'Nother new day. 'Nother batch of fools COMIN' to Vegas - the land of opportunity they say it is - thinkin' that wit' the snap of the fingers they gonna become a LEGEND. ... Naw aw, don' work that way on MAH WATCH. Nobody gonna CHEAT the HOUSE outta his shot."

"EYE been waitin' for this opportune a long tahm - and it tahm for the HOUSE to do what no other of these... LEGENDS... of Las Vegas done, and that WIN IT, EARN IT, STRAIGHT UP. Become LVW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMP."

"No countin' cards, no backroom dealins'... naw, we go straight by the numbahs, and the numbahs say that the HOUSE... always has the EDGE. That the HOUSE... always gets the UPPER HAND. (laughs)"

"That foo' Wayne Newton? He went agains' the house - got dealt some BLACKJACK."

"Seigfried? Roy? They got caught by the EYE of the tiger - an' got dealt some BLACKJACK."

"Now... I gots another punk-ass faker. Man who made his money STEALIN' the black folk dance moves. STEALIN' the black folk music. STEALIN'... from the HOUSE'S FAMILY."

"Elvis Aaron Presley? I see your kind 'round here every day. Fat. Skinny. Tall. Small. Young. Old. All KINDS of Elvis. All thieving a buck off the name of a thief."

"BOY... you bes' watch yo'self, and be ready to answer the right answer when asked if you want some INSURANCE, 'cause if you don't, I'mma gonna deal you some BLACKJACK."

"An' then you know what? We takin' a cab, goin' to McCarran, and I'm gonna stick yo' ass on the plane wit' all the other losers - all the others that went broke tryin' to t'become a LEGEND overnight, and y'all will be LEAVING... LAS VEGAS."



01-18-06, 09:58 AM
The fwrestling server sucks some major dick in the morning, don't it.

01-18-06, 11:59 PM
(FADEIN: Miss ANN and Hans Nowak oversee a gaggle of Mexican immigrants working feverishly in the back yard of Han's new Vegas home. A couple of workers pass in the background toting a giant-sized Golden replica of Hans' head. The LVW cameraman COUGHS, catching Ann and Han's attention. Much to their annonyance.)

MISS ANN: Billions of years from now, Earth’s star burn out, and planet left in darkness and cold. Planet left in primitive police state, where only the visionaries who dug tunnel to the center of the Earth and live in glass tubes for homes, and use Earth’s lava for warmth will remain. Billions of years from now…the Earth will be homeless with no grand postmaster for the first time since America spilt innocent blood to capture it’s independence. And there will be nobody to say, to reinforce the truth that could have saved.

Had idiots and rapists lifted Hans up to the heavens and used cock head to block moon, and let his brilliance cast rays upon the paupers and slaves…planet’s destruction could have been avoided.

HANS: Yes! Yes my filthy little dog…Hans speak now for the first time in two weeks! Vow of silence for dumb in country, and culturally impaired no more!

(Miss Ann BARKS at Hans, ripping at his muscle shirt with her teeth.)

HANS: Seventeen more bodies in Iraq, and thousands here in US file to hold hands out to government and beg for stamps. They beg like road kill to be given new life and safely led across the stage. Dog, what does it mean?

MISS ANN: Tell me! Tell me now you ignorant thickheaded beast!

HANS: It mean only ONE HANS NOWAK! Only one strongest man in the world! Only one God in LVW able to lift couch full of (censor) in the air with one hand, and beat rest of Lounge in game of tug-of-war with other! HANS ATTACK!

MISS ANN: Attack Hans must! For dimwitted Bill Bellmoth dare stand in our way!

HANS: Bellmoth, no amount of barebacked Cowboys able to rope and hold Hans down. My kingdom today small….but when Vegas mine…my rule shall be as far as eye can see.

MISS HANS: (BARKS again) Take me to that Iron-man Match! Show world that Hans Nowak last longer than ANY man.

HANS: LVW…HANS ATTACK! Until bodies stack like ladder for Hans to climb and tap Sun out.


01-19-06, 11:48 PM
"Who done said blowjobs was art?"

LVW soundstage at Mandalay Bay. "Cowboy" Jimmy and surprisingly, Fabiola are standing by.

JD: Well if that don't beat all... that darn Gladiater fella thinks I was tryin' to be all arty and such with mah last segment, I reckon. Dang, he done give me more credit than anyone ever done before. I guess maybe he ain't such a bad guy after all if he think I is smart 'n such.

But there ain't no art to a blowjob. It's just the whore goin' down and suckin' on yer junk. Nothin' arty about that. It just feels real, real good.

It feels so dang good that I got Fabiola here, the best dang blowjob this side of the Pecos, to give this Gladiater fella a good blowjob after the match. He seems really, really wound up real tight. I figger some good head will help him wit' his inner pain 'n such, and it'll make him feel real good after I done kicked his ass all the way across that there ring.

I mean, what's the best thing in the world to feel after you done got yer ass beat?

Fabiola: A blowjob from Fabiola.

JD: Darn tootin'! See, I ain't that bad a guy, Gladiater. There ain't no need to have all that pent up anger 'n such.

Just unwind.

And leave the piani wire at home.

Fade to the LVW logo.

John Doe
01-20-06, 02:56 PM

LVW Backdrop, very cheaply made as El Gordo Grande stands in front of a camera. His lips move but nothing is heard. He stops and looks around, and points at a camera man. We hear people talking in the background.

Studio Tech: It broke, I can’t believe it, it’s not working. And it’s too much money to replace.

Director: What broke?

Studio Tech: The Lip syncing.

Director: Sh*t!

EGG: Que paso?!

Studio Tech: Mr. Grande we are having problems, the lip sync system won’t work, we can’t get it to work.

EGG: QUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Studio Tech: It’s broken, (talking louder)

GRANDE looks at him confused

Studio Tech: You are going to have to talk, we….don’t have…it working….it’s broken…adios....Caput

EGG: ¿Usted me quiere que hable?

Studio Tech: SI!

EGG: No….amigo, la mirada, yo he roto ingles

Studio Tech: I …..Don’t….Speaka….In…Spanish…Just talk…..

Another tech enters the room.

Studio Tech 2: We got the automated translation system up.

Studio Tech: Ok, so I will have him just speak in his language. And we will run it here.

EGG: Ah mi dios.

Studio Tech: Senior Grande, just speak Spanish.

EGG: ¿Puedo hablar yo español? (I can speak Spanish?)

Studio Tech: Yeah, sure whatever.

EGG: Hola, como usted puede ver regreso esta semana y no soy apenas para nada es para el campeonato mundial. Algunas personas nunca ganarán esta oportunidad. Pero tengo. Y es a causa de este igual que he decidido dedicar este igual a los ventiladores de LVW. Yo los fallé último, esta semana que avanzaré para ganar un t*tulo en su honor, y para el honor de México, de Puerto Rico, y de todo lat*n

(Hello, as you can see I am back this week and it’s not just for anything it’s for the world championship. Some people will never earn this chance. But I have. And it’s because of this match that I have decided to dedicate this match to the fans of LVW. I failed you all last, this week I will advance to win a title in your honor, and for the honor of Mexico, Puerto Rico, and all Latin’s)

EGG: Hay las cosas que se debe decir, uno de ellos es mi ca*da a Shorty. Yo lo subestimé. El es un guerrero verdadero en el anillo. Pero no me obtiene mal, él obtuvo afortunado, tuve la cabeza a lejos en las nubes, y él aventajó me a. Llené mi cara con alimento en vez de la instrucción. Y sufr* las consecuencias, esta semana no será lo mismo. Esta semana que derrotaré Johnny Doll en el anillo para un adelantamiento en este torneo.

(There are things that must be said, one of them is my fall to Shorty. I underestimated him. He is a real warrior in the ring. But don’t get me wrong, he did get lucky, I had my head to far in the clouds, and he got the best of me. I stuffed my face with food instead of training. And I suffered the consequences, this week won’t be the same. This week I will defeat Johnny Doll in the ring for an advancement in this tournament.)

EGG: Vea este T*tulo mundial, me significa todo a yo mismo, a mi familia, y a mi orgullo. Yo le debo derrotar para mantener esos fin al corazón. Mantengo los ventiladores cerca al corazón también, ellos me trajeron aqu*. Yo les mostré un lado de m* yo nunca quiero mostrar otra vez. Yo me disculpo para mis acciones la semana pasada a Shorty después del igual, era innecesario. Pero estaba tan enojado en yo mismo para permitirlo aventajar para ame que tuve que liberar mi cólera. Yo lo lamento mucho. Lamento también mentir a los ventiladores. Yo no puedo hablar inglés. Un hombre se sentó y habló para m*, yo acabo de mover que los labios para hacer se parece a hablaba. Lo siento.

(See this World Title, it means everything to myself, my family, and my pride. I must defeat you in order to keep those close to my heart. I keep the fans close to my heart as well, they brought me here. I showed them a side of me I never want to show again. I apologize for my actions last week to Shorty. after the match, it was unnecessary. But I was so angry at myself for letting him get the best of me that I had to release my anger. I regret it dearly. I also regret lying to the fans. I can not speak English. A man sat down and spoke for me, I just moved my lips to make it look like I was talking. I am sorry. )

EGG: Pero eso es el pasado, esto es ahora. Y ahora soy un hombre nuevo. Ustedes saben la verdad ahora, y empezando ahora realizaré en el anillo en mi juego primero. Traeré los ventiladores un t*tulo. Un t*tulo para las personas. Un t*tulo que luché para ganar duramente. Esto es el primer paso en mi escalera al éxito, yo no los fallaré otra vez. Buenas noches.

(But that is the past, this is now. And now I am a new man. You all know the truth now, and starting now I will perform in the ring at my top game. I will bring the fans a title. A title for the people. A title I fought hard to earn. This is the first step in my ladder to success, I will not fail you all again. Good night.)



01-21-06, 11:58 PM
We open to a dreary, damp plumbing area of some unknown building. Condensation leaks all over the pipes that spread throughout the room, not to mention the floor. Intertwined within some of the pipes, we see the Web Browser, sitting on the pipes as if they were a child’s swingset.

He sits quietly as a smile protrudes from his face. His raised cheeks slightly shroud his left eye, which we can clearly see is bruised from the transpirings from Viva Las New Years. He points his head to look to the floor as he notices the camera. He sits there for several moments in complete silence before finally…

WB: Welcome to my playground…

This is where I’ve grown accustomed to coming when I have a bad day and just need an extra little bit of cheer to try and get me through the next day without connecting my neck and one of these pipes via a sturdy rope.

The smell here is quite fresh when you’re used to the dry air that comes from sleeping in a basement in the middle of the desert.

The moisture and mildew are actually relaxing when the grind gets you to the point that you just want to throw up rather than seeing what life holds for you next.

Even the rats…

They’re quite the refuge from what hurts me the most.

They accept what I am, what I used to be, and what I’ve become.

They could honestly care less if my life has gone from top of the line to complete shambles in a matter of hours.

All they do is lend a listening ear to help me get through the daily grind. They sit patiently while everyone else continues about their “me-first” ways up on the surface.

They even show more pity for a beaten man than any of the scum of the earth.

They understand that I hurt and that even some sort of fugitive creature like me needs someone or something too.

Browser seems to be restraining himself as his breathing increases heavily. Soon, his breaths are very quick and shallow as if he were to hyperventilate.

WB: You see, life to them isn’t about using others as your pawns.

Much like the capitalistic America or even the man that I’ve been informed will be standing across the ring from me in the way of a title that I could really care less about.

Men like Mr. Lerner are exactly what makes men like me hate each and every American up there.

Men like Mr. Lerner abuse the powers of words and are able to manipulate the smallest of men into giving up everything they have, simply to get overbearing lawyers even more money than they already have.

Men like Mr. Lerner are what confine me to the depths of the dry basements and the overly moist plumbing areas.

I used to be someone like Mr. Lerner myself. I used each and every ounce of my intellect to further myself in a world that I thought I controlled.

But when things go awry, even the biggest of men can be turned into the smallest of rodents because of the abuse of the English language by men like Mr. Lerner.

Mr. Lerner, what you have is, honestly, quite the talent.

But I cannot see how even a man like you can wake up in the morning and look at yourself in the mirror without cringing to see the beast that you have become.

You’ve slaved to an overbearing society that tells you money defines your level of success.

If you win a case, you’re simply rewarded with money, because that’s what everyone values in this, the capitalistic apex of the world.

What you would find out, if you were a man like me, is that money is only a driving force that the government holds over your head to make you conform to what they want.

And with each case that you go out there and lie your ass off simply to gain a victory so that you may earn more money simply leads them further into happiness with your conformity.

Browser looks up to the camera, his eye shining as much as a black eye can in a dark plumbing area.

WB: And with your presence in LVW, you are simply showing that you yearn that much more to show Uncle Sam that you conform to his rules and wish to remain a pawn in the biggest game of all.

Think about it for a minute, Ben. Think how each and every one of those men that you convict or incriminate in your cases feel while you’re simply using them and their words as nothing more than pawns in your greatest of schemes.

Now, think for a minute about how much bigger of a scale the United States government is working on…

And now, think about how small of a pawn you are becoming in their little game by showing them you’re that much thirstier for a paycheck as you enter LVW.

If something like that still doesn’t get your head straight, then I’ll damn well make sure that you understand that your presence in LVW is still about to end because you’ve taken a wrong turn on the information superhighway.

Your first paycheck from Las Vegas Wrestling is going to be your last, courtesy of the Web Browser because of what you pulled out last week with that cheap shot.

And before you know it, when Uncle Sam has finally crippled you for everything that you are, you’ll be asking me for advice on how to download your criminal case files as you try and work your way back up the system by fighting against it.

Browser gives a slight chuckle and then laughs hysterically as the camera fades out.

01-23-06, 05:02 AM
(FADEIN: 'the Hard Hitter' Ben Lerner is sitting on a wooden desk, a desk lamp to his right, and a stack of books to his left. Behind him stands a bookshelf. He places his hand on top of the books on the desk and looks into the camera, a dry smile on his face.)

LERNER: "Slander.

That's our word for today. What is slander? Loosely speaking, it is words falsely spoken that tend to damage the reputation of another.

I know, I know.

Slander may not be actionable, or for you less intelligent folk out there, prosecutable, without proof of actual temporal damages. And I'm sure that is what the Web Browser, in his infinite wisdom, was hoping.

But when the slander relates to one's business or profesion, the special provision of it relating to actual temporal damages is dispensed with.

So Web Browser, before you open up your mouth one more time to dismiss the extraordinary job I do, I would be careful. You might just find me on the other side of another ring from you... and in the courtroom, well, I'm the Hard Hitter... and NO ONE hits back."

(Lerner pulls a comb from out of his suit jacket pocket and slicks back his hair. He runs his hand just over it to make sure there are no stray pieces before placing the comb back. Lerner pulls a book off the stack and flips open to a random page since he's not even looking at the book.)

LERNER: "I'm just a simple man, Browser. I like the little things in life. Cars, good cooking, the occassional negligence of a supermarket.. I go to work in the morning, just like every other Joe in this country. I listen to story after story after story of some poor soul .. their lives being ruined by some fool who uses and abuses them...

Like here in Las Vegas Wrestling.

I sat back there and watched as LVW put my client in danger. Where are your credentials Web Browser? I want to see where it says that you have all of the necessary training to be a professional wrestler. So after you act as an accessory to a felony, I have decided to stand up for the little person.

To act as an instrument of retribution.

For example: one of my last cases a poor woman placed what she thought was a ready bowl of soup into her microwave only to come back 2 minutes later to find her kitchen on fire. In the mad pursuit to put out the flames she tripped over a tile and hit her head on the stove.

This could have been easily preventable had her soup box present clear directions to remove the hard to see plastic covering, or if the microwave had extra safety provisions to contain a fire, but also if her tiles had been laid correctly. Needless to say she was handsomely repaid for the damages, both physically as well as mentally, that she deserved.

So before you start to claim that I am a slave to a capitalistic society, Browser, you need to do your homework. I work to make sure that those who have no voice are heard.

When people have nowhere to turn, they turn to the Hard Hitter to get the help they need."

(Lerner closes the book and places it back on the pile before hopping off the desk. He walks around to the back of the desk and sits down in the pleather chair.)

LERNER: "Not only am I going to run this company into the ground for its grave ignorance of justice, but I'm going to go a step further. A hostile takeover, if you will. Since Mr. Simmons is unable to compete, I am taking his place in this title tournament.

I will make LVW pay ...

One way..

or another."

(He winks at the camera as he starts flipping through some papers on the desk.)

LERNER: "One slip, Web Browser.

That's all it takes...

and you'll get the Cash Settlement."

(FADEOUT: As Ben Lerner straightens his tie, puts on some $2.99 reading glasses from Wal-Mart, and continues to thumb through some papers on his desk.)

01-24-06, 09:44 PM
(CUEUP: “The Hunt” by The Hidden…)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, raggedy old Dead Kennedys T-shirt, leather jacket, and black jeans stands in a spooky ass ally way, illuminated only by a street light, looking bored…)

“the last goth monster”

Jeezus krist, y’know sumpthin’ butha, I understand not wanting to shoot interview segments, but if you want people to think you’re *really* a deranged, drug abusing, scope drinking, nihilist retard, you’ve gotta get on the mic and DO some messed up sh(bleep), man.

C’mon Johnny the Homicidal Maniac....eat some dirt. Drink some piss. Put your dick in a vacuum cleaner. Shoot yourself in the eye with a staple gun. Do *some*thing! I’m just trying to give you some career advice here…

You wanna make a name for yourself in this business? You gotta bring the shameless self exploitation. Me? I’m already planning on selling out to myself by driving to the arena, suiting up, and slapping you around ‘till you don’t get back up no more.

If you’re staying quiet to avoid saying anything stupid, well…You lost your credibility when you decided a real evil mofo like you should come out to Red Hot Chile Peppers. Might as well cry havoc and let the verbal shi(bleep)orm fly, eh?

01-25-06, 04:56 AM
(McCarron Airport-- Las Vegas, Nevada 2:35am)

Airport Loudspeaker: " America West Airlines Flight 916 from New York City is now arriving at Gate 14. All baggage will arrive in the North terminal... Thank you for flying America West."

( Passengers from the airplane pour out from the door opened by airline officials. Businessmen with their loosened ties and wrinkled jackets draped over their shoulder, boyfriends meeting their girlfriends, family members meeting other family members and one man walking alone searching for the correct way to go toward the exit. That man is Johnny Doll. Clad in a gray Nike T-shirt and blue jeans walks towaard the exit when he sees a man holding a sign with "DOLL" on it. Johnny acknowledges the man and walks toward baggage pick up. Doll picks up his bags and follows the driver out to the limo awaiting at the curb outside. The driver takes the bags and puts them in the trunk as Doll slides into the back of the limo. The driver closes the limo door and then leaves with Doll in tow toward Caesars Palace where Johnny has been staying.)

Doll: (sighs) " I am so frickin' tired. Moving all my stuff from NYC to Sin City is a chore. But, this is my new home. I can't stay shacked up in the Palace for the rest of my life. I need to make a residence here. El Gordo Grande... I had a video lined up to film early this week in a restaurant where I clearly made fun of you as an athlete, your name as a fast food dinner meal and your hertiage as a latino. I didn't care you were as a person. As I moved furniture at my past home to bring here, I got to hear your comments about this tournament and what it meant to you. And I decided to scrap my whole plans and just hand you the facts."

(Doll moves around in the limo until he finds a comfortable position)

Doll: " You said that you failed the fans in your last LVW match. I'm sure that wasn't the case. If you gave your all,, then you did very well. You want to be at the top of your game then I'm sure that you will be. All I can say that you better bring all that you have to take me on. Because, I am not going to lie down for you. In fact, I want that LVW World Title just as much as you do, if not more. Your first step on the ladder to success is me... not Shorty. That was just a prelim match. This first round is your turning point. It is where you will be showing the whole world how good you are. You see... I have been through this. Stepping in front of casting agents for broadway shows..toothpaste commercials and voice overs for cartoons. My success has come from hard work and accountability from my peers and fans. Yes, I have the same fans you have. That card you use..."to win it for their honor" that 's all well and good. But, it's not like you have home field advantage. You won't be sure who is cheering who in our match. Your best bet is to bring your arsenal and hope that you have just one move better than mine. I don't plan on losing to you and I do plan in the same way as you do to be World Champion for the fans out there. If it werent for those fans out there...I would never be where I am today. "

(The limo stops and the driver opens the car door for Johnny. Johnny walks toward the casino doors. But, stops and turns around.)

Doll: " Gordo...I understand your heritage. Your land is two things. Mostly oppressed and what isn't oppressed is totally rich above most standards. One spot you have Tijuana and the other spot you have Mexico City or one spot, Rosarita and one spot, Guadalajara. It's the difference between night and day. You had a great leader in Caesar Chavez. So, families and pride are major things in your land. While Americans need an act of terrorism or a strike against their core values before they bond together these days. We are quite passionate within our own families. We are alike in a lot of ways and I commend you getting in front of a camera and acknowledging that you cannot speak english and letting the fans know your appreciation for them. The one major thing that I cannot agree with you on though is how this match will end. We will show the town as well as the two nations how great of a match we will have. But, it will be me that will come out of the first round match as the winner and I will go on to face each competitior with the same fierceness as I will be facing you until I walk onto the Las Vegas strip as the LVW World Heavyweight Champion!!"

(Doll turns away from the camera and walks through the doors of the casino and into the crowd of gamblers and restless vacationers.)

01-25-06, 11:22 PM
(The screen comes in on another ‘Blair Witch’ type camera, and another scared ****-less cameraman, who really would rather be doing anything else right now, but he comes, down the now somewhat familiar hallway, at least now he sort of seems to know where he’s going, until he comes down upon a man, matted hair, matted clothing, head down, and as that head comes up, the blood trickle, fresh this time, can be seen running down his forehead, this is Jonathan Nash, who looks back to the ground as he speaks)

“We had the misfortune of stumbling across some comments, not that we normally pay attention to such things, but it can be an.... amusing pastime. You honestly think we’re just like all the rest, don’t you? You honestly think that we’re in this for some kind of.... self promotion? Do we honestly look like someone who is trying to promote anything?

“You did hit on one accord, and that is that pain is the only thing that gets us through the day. Pain is what motivates us, IT KEEPS THE THIRST ALIVE! The only problem is we can’t decide which one of us likes pain the most, and we also can’t decide who we’d rather see the pain go to, ourselves, or to the ones who think we’re simply like all the rest.

“Do you think wegive a **** about any of the things you mentioned? Do you think we give a **** what music we come out to, or how we look, or any type of championship we may win. Those were the things that Jonathan Nash, the young lion, the upstart, used to care about. But we came in and changed all of that, we changed things when that NO GOOD PIECE OF SH!T DECIDED TO ABANDON US, DECIDED THAT WE WERE NO LONGER WORTHY IN HIS PRESENCE, THAT WE WERE FREE TO EXPLORE ‘OTHER OPPORTUNITIES!’”

(Nash begins violently hitting his head against the floor, as he crouches on his hands and knees, he continues to scream violently, until he suddenly stops.... and looks back up at the camera, the blood has now spread, covering most of his face, the calm demeanor has returned, and he continues)

“We have erred in really caring about what you think. We guess all we’re going to worry about is allowing you to enter our world for just a moment. We’ll let you know what it is to truly feel what we go through. This isn’t about any type of title, or anything else they might try to give us. Those were the things we used to care about, long before anybody cared. Back when they said we were ‘The Golden Boy.’ F@CK THEM!

“We’ll be there, bells and whistles and everything, we imagine they’ll even be some music playing in the background. Not that is matters, the pain will not change.

“We’ll see you soon.”

(Our camera looks to get out of there as we fade to black)

01-26-06, 08:19 PM
(CUEUP: “I hate everything” by the Queers…)
(FADEIN: Dimly lit bathroom in crappy motel room. Mitch Grey, black jeans and faded G'nR T-shirt, has his hair pulled back in a ponytail as he’s putting on pseudo goth face paint in the mirror…then he runs his fingertips arbitrarily across his face, just enough to slightly smear the design…then turns around, and starts talking…)

“the last goth monster”

(sighs) Alright spunky, let me tell you know what I know about pain…

There’s the bland, expected kind I believe you’re mostly talking about. (punches himself in the head) Ow. That kind. Chairs and tables and barbed wire and the like. I think most of us are pretty familiar with all that by now. Do I like it? Not really. Do I dislike it? (shrugs) I got used to it a long time ago…It’s living. It pays the bills. That’s all.

Then there’s the other kind, which I’m not used to, and I’m not sure if you can get used to it. The total desperation that hits when you get everything you’ve always wanted, lose it, and are completely helpless to do a single thing about it.

You know what it was, that I wanted so much, Johnny? A normal life. Because I couldn’t stand the sight of people like you anymore.

You don’t think you’re like the others, eh? You think when you say, “I’m crazy and I love pain,” it’s different from when Asylum, Thirteen, Anarky, Psycho, Felix Red, Pitt, Ashe Draven, and the THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of others say the exact same thing?

And it doesn’t just make you a cliché, Johnny. I’m a cliché to, y’know? There is nothing special about me. I am big. I am good at beating people up. Being a cliché isn’t so bad. Most people are pretty cliché. Your hero Jean Rabesque is a cliché to, and by the way I wouldn’t worry so much about him firing you. I mean…c’mon now. Jean Rabesque is horrible. He’s sucked for years. Everyone makes fun of him behind his back. it's really absurd.

It’s when you keep telling yourself you love pain so much?...That makes you a f(bleep)king retard. Does it make you insane also? Does talking like you’re doing a bad Topher Grace impression make you insane? Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. I don’t care. What it doesn’t make you is special. Or interesting. Or a threat to me.

What you are, Johnny Nash…is a chore.

Not to say I won’t enjoy running you over. My last few opponents at least left me a little bemused. You, on the other hand, genuinely annoy me.

Who the f(bleep) cuts themselves on camera and tries to play it out like they’re NOT looking for attention?...(spits on the floor) Jesus f(bleep) Christ. (spreads his arms out to the sides, forming a cross, smirks, and walks off)

01-26-06, 09:45 PM
* Long fade in to the front of the Paris Hotel & Casino from the top of the Luxor Hotel & Casino. Elvis stands at the base of the Eiffel Tower, at the Paris, posing for pictures and signing autographs. A young woman in a cowboy hat walks by, not giving Elvis a second glance... *

ELVIS: "Hey pretty lil' thang! You're a lil' bit country, and I'm a whole lotta rock 'n roll. What say we head on down to my place? I promise not to be cruel and leave you at the Heartbreak Hotel, baby. I swear, give it to the King, baby!"

* The woman ignores the cat calls, and struts right by Elvis. *

ELVIS: "Nothin' to worry about. 'N fact, I don't have much to worry about. Not in...

* Elvis breaks down into song *


"That's just a lil' preview of the goods, and that's all of me that Jack House is gonna get. He wants to roll up into my town, my Graceland Numero Dos, and start taking out my friends?

"That's a no-no, amigo."

* A little kid points a camera at the King, and he strikes a karate pose, but not before tripping into a man in a wheelchair and knocking him over. Elvis doesn't even bother with the man, and finishes the pose for the photograph as bystanders scramble for the cripple. *

ELVIS: "Just like that mister, House, you're gettin' in my way. See, while I may be the King, all the LVW fans know that I'm also the Ace. The Ace of Spades!

"See, you talk big, but I walk big. These shoes aren't made for walkin'. Hell no. Seude ain't no good for that, but they are made for stompin'. Stompin' a mudhole in your gut. When I'm done, I'm movin' on to the promised land, baby.

"It's time for MY reperations! I see exactly what you see around here: thousands of my impersonators wanting to be me, act like me...SING like me. Well, uh-uh, there's only ONE King, and you're lookin' at him. Me. I.

"Jack, you might think NO ONE beats the House in Vegas, but Elvis is about the break the bank, and roll all up on ya!"

* Elvis breaks into a verse of "Trouble"... *

ELVIS: "I'm only made of flesh, blood and bone; but if you're gonna start a rumble, don't you start it all alone..."


01-27-06, 02:59 AM

Sir Simon waiting to interview Bill Bellmoth, who is characteristically late for his interview, before walking through right past Sir Simon…

Simon: “Bill, Bill, can I get a word?”

::Bill rolls his eyes and stops::

Bill: “Make it quick Sir Shawn I am a busy man”

Simon: “Bill this week you are facing…”

Bill: “Do you think I care what this retarded gorilla who can’t do anything more sophisticated than body slam is named? NO! Once again the bookers of this bingo hall federation book the 9 Time World Series of Wrestling champ against some moron who bought “How to wrestle instructionals”… on VHS, off of some site on the internet. When I am in the ring, the people are entertained, and whomever I wrestle against looks better just for having the privilege of getting defeated by me. So to summarize, Captain Caveman, get ready to look REALLY good. Later Sir Shawn.”

Simon looking totally perplexed: “Oh well, we have heard from Bill Bellmoth, I am sir Simon and I am going to go hit the craps table”


01-28-06, 12:15 AM
(FADE IN: The Monroeville Mall in Pennsylvania... or a cheap facsimile thereof. On the mall's second floor, near a balcony overlooking the lower level, we see four people. One, a weasley-looking man with Slick Rick hair and a leather jacket. Another, a chain-smoking, somewhat past her prime, reporter chick... portrayed by Gaylen Ross. The remaining two - SWAT team bad-asses! Well, one Ving Rhames-like, SWAT team bad-ass and the other, a rather squirmy, effemenite-looking officer anyway. Collectively, the foursome stands at the balcony's edge, peering over and into the unknown. CLOSE ON: 'Bing' Rhames.)

'BING' RHAMES: "When there is no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth"

(CUT TO: Gaylen Ross)

GAYLEN: *Hack* *Wheeeeeeze*"I'm too old for this sh(FCC)t..."

(CUT TO: Flyboy Weasel.)

FLYBOY: "Chopper 5 reporting heavy congestion in the wrestling vignette."

(CUT TO: Femmy McSquirm.)

McSQUIRM: "Heeeeey guuuuuuuuuys? Is it bad that that icky-poo zombie took a li'l nibble out of my freshly waxed thigh?"

(CUT TO: MC Luscious Booty Diva X?!!?)

DIVA: "Heh, y'alls 'bout to get played like a pinball machine..."

BING: "Oh HELL NO!! How ya gonna roll up on our stash like that, WOMAN?! This mall is OURS!"

DIVA: "Shiiiiiiiiizzz, not fo long, jigga... cuz the UNDEAD LEGION is about to bowl y'all over like Jerome Bettis up in here!!


(Suddenly, the LIVING DEAD jumps out of some fake bushes nearby!)

LIVING DEAD: "Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnggggggggghhhhhhh...UUU UUUMMMMMMMMMGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRHH!!!"


BING: "What the HELL?! Where's my shotgun?! I'm gonna git you, SUCKA!"

FLYBOY: "Chopper 5 reporting a HEAD-ON Collision at the Monroeville Mall!"

(Before Gaylen could respond, the Living Dead edges in toward her...)

McSQUIRM: "Run girlfriend, RUUUUUUUN!!!"


DIVA: "Y'all dun f(FCC)cked up right here! My man's gonna pull a rabbit out his hat Magick-O style and stick it up yo ass slow like!"


(Closer still...)

DIVA: "Y'see this, magic man? Dis bidness right here's gonna be you in that ring. My own personal stiff, and I do mean STIFF *snicker* is gonna toss you off the stage at Ceaser's and right back to the street corner ya came from!"

BING: "The HELL you doin, lady?! Get you white ass out the way!

GAYLEN: "Can't.... move.... must..... find.... cigarettes!!!"

McSQUIRMY: "Those are SOOOOOOOO bad for your complexion... just RUN, doll! That icky-poo zombie's gonna eat you!"

(Living Dead stumbles and falls.)

DIVA: "Yea BITZ!! You like that, Magick-O?! After Living Dead bites you, you gonna vanish like Harry Houdini on this place."

(Living Dead struggles to get up... only to trip on something and fall.)

DIVA: "Aaaaahhh yea, it's all over now!!! G'head Magick-O... pick a card... ANY CARD. No mattah what ya get, yo ass is busted and MY MAN'S goin' Black Jack all up in this piece. Jus' look at him, he's goin' GANGSTA on this place!"

(Living Dead fumbles around the ground for his roadblock. To his shock, he discovers he was tripped by none other than Gaylen's Swishers.)



(Living Dead stumbles back to his feet and continues to move toward Gaylen.)

DIVA: "Feel the BURN, assh(FCC)les!! Living Dead's gonna put you all in his box of mystery and saw yo wigga-asses in half!!!"

(Living Dead, still closing in on Gaylen, stumbles a bit too close to the escalator. With the muzak plodding about over the mall's PA system, he stomps and circles about the escalator, desperately trying to get back up to Gaylen despite the device's downward progression. Diva is not impressed.)

DIVA: "You think he's tough now, boy... you besta check ya self!! He may be havin' troubles fo the moment, but you can bet yer booty that ain't no escalators in the ring!!! So you jus' watch yo-self, Magick-O... cuz when he gets his hands on you, you WILL join the Army... of the Living... DEAD!! Diva X out dis piece!"

(As Diva and the other four continue to peer over the balcony at the Living Dead and his escalator woes...)


(...we FADE TO BLACK.)

01-28-06, 01:01 AM
(The House of Blues concert hall is empty except for two workers setting up the ring. "Broadway" Johnny Doll walks into the area just absorbing the ambiance of the spot that will make history for Las Vegas wrestling fans. Frankie walks down to ringside just in time to hear the conversation that the two men are having inside the ring.)

Ring guy#1: " Yeah, He can't speak a word of english. Ya wanna know the funniest part? I've been trying to teach him a couple of cuss words and I get him to say them to the chicks at the bar. His face gets slapped everytime!"

Ring guy #2: (laughs heartily) " Ya know what else is funny. I heard LVW was going to sign Nachos Bell Grande as a tag team partner for him!!"

(Both guys laugh loudly)

Johnny Doll: " Why don't the both of you shut your mouths and show the guy some respect."

Ring guy #1: " Hey. You shouldnt have a problem with us. You should be worrying about beating Mr. Mexico."

(Doll rolls into the ring and looks at both men face to face.)

Doll: " Listen. He has every right to be here and he doesnt need you to attack him behind his back."

Ring guy#2: " Listen mama's boy. We don't need to hear from some brokeback broadway primadonna."

Doll: "Well. Maybe you can hear this."

(Doll irish whips the first ring guy into the ropes and delivers a solid flying elbow to his forehead. Before, the second guy could help his friend out. Doll leaps up and sends a superkick into the jaw of the second man. Doll rolls out of the ring and to the announcers table.)

Doll: "El Grande... It's all comes down to this. One of us cant go on. I respect you and what you came here to do in LVW. But, I came to grab the same brass ring. I will not just lie down in our first round match. The World Title is coming home to the Doll House!"

01-28-06, 02:05 AM
(FADEIN: B/W Footage of EL MAGICK-O, in full bodysuit, mask, top hat, and cape, fighting a poorly-made up actor playing a zombie wearing tattered clothes. EL MAGICK-O fights with a cane with a dragon's head on the top that spews badly-done CGI fire that the zombie ducks from too early. The backdrop a theatre with a mountain painting making up the scenery.)


(A cheap flash happens, and then El Magick-O remembers to throw his powder and the zombies twirls and twirls as he opens a trapdoor and walks down the stairs through it. El Magick-O sighs in relief as he begins spinning his cane.)

EL MAGICK-O: And so the AGENTS of the UNDYING sent one of their own after me since they have already divined the future and seen that I will overcome their Living Dead on my march to the LVW World title. It has happened before....when I had climbed the melting glaciers of Iceland to perform a magic show with only my top hat for a village of man-eating albinos...and there I learned how to escape from a paperclip.....

....and how to entrap a man within a paperclip.

In fact, I once tried this with a woman, and, when it didn't work out so well because I hadn't practiced it that much, she thought I was going to pay for the surgery....but hey...I wasn't the LVW World Champion yet.

And you think making money off magic is easy?

In an age of the internet, pay per view, and video games?

And with the fact that every other magician gets to reveal the trade's secrets on network specials but they keep lowballing me?

I even offered to expose wrestling, but they had a drunken Mexican hillbilly doing that.

But I'll make my bank account re-appear....and while I can't say I'll ever stop searching through the purses of my many lady friends for loose change while they sleep....I'll have revised equipment.

A new Water Torture Cell! A new collapsing cabinet of mystery! A new Ford Escort! A new brevy of attractive young assistants with wealthy, widowed mothers!

And it all starts with this one match against the Living Dead...a battle I've fought all my life....for surely magic is wonder....and wonder is the war against the living death and chaos....and I'm sure glad I have that grad student writing out my speeches for me now!

Nonetheless, this isn't the first time I've been called upon to save the world, and it won't be the last. As a magician, I'm one of the last few with the hidden secrets that propel this world through darkness, and I'm obligated to defend it from the likes of the Living Dead....

....and should I make a tidy profit off exposing a wrestling audience to magic...and a magic audience to wrestling...well....who could begrudge me?

It's not like Harry Houdini was living out of a box.

But like him, I am a master of the mystic arts....a master physicist....an adventurer...a handsome rogue with many personal ad's in the Las Vegas newspapers for you lonely ladies out there.

As long as you like to share since there's always a few fans welcome backstage after my shows....and three's company never hurt anyone...except that one time I didn't know she was actually a he....but I made him vanish from the bedroom as soon as possible.

As the Living Dead will vanish...after I escape from his clutches. Even now, on the astral plane, I see the LVW World Title dangling above me...and my soul only has to reach out and grab it.

Not even the dead can stop me.

For they have no bounds that can hold me.

Unless I feel like it that night.

02-04-06, 04:06 AM
(MUSIC UP: "Good Morning" - Cage feat. El-P, Matt Sweeney & James McNew)

(FADEIN: Blue screen, flashy lights bordering all around, House of Blues logo in the middle, with date, time, and lots of 411.)

MAYES (V/O): “People in the Valley, come join us here at the House of Blues for some Las Vegas Wrestling action! Get your tickets now for our next show by hitting us up on the website listed, by calling 1-702-555-2525, or by showing up at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay here on the Las Vegas STRIP!”

"THIS is the show to not miss! We will be deciding who holds the four keys to the 4-Way, 60-Minute Ironman Match for the LVW World Heavyweight Championship at Supershow on the Strip I! The brackets, brought to you by Bracketmaker.com (http://www.bracketmaker.com/tmenu.cfm?tid=137677), will be decided!"

"We will also be deciding our first CHALLENGER to whoever the new World Champ may be, plus much more!"

"Here's the lineup sheet!"

5-Way Match, One Pinfall To A Finish
Winner gets FIRST LVW World Heavyweight Championship Title Shot

Leisure Time, a new interview segment by THE GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE, with his first guest, JACK HOUSE!
And then...






THE WEB BROWSER v. "The Last Goth Monster" MITCH GREY



"Join us! EL VEE DOUBLE-U... taking it, to the OBSCENE!"

OORP: Once again, it's time to sink or swim, and bring it all to the table. To those out of the World Title tournament, it doesn't mean you're out of any plans at all, because ANYTHING can happen here in LVW, and there's an epic ton to happen, so don't give up, and keep it up!

We're giving everyone until the end of business on Wednesday, February 15th to put up all RPs and get in all angles and ideas to lvw.prez@gmail.com. There will be no extensions!

Let's go and rock the house!

02-04-06, 04:14 AM
For the first shot at the LVW World Heavyweight Champion!

RP here.

02-04-06, 04:15 AM
Got the full match now.

RP here.

02-04-06, 04:16 AM
RP here now!

02-04-06, 04:16 AM
RP here now!

02-04-06, 04:17 AM
RP here now!

02-04-06, 04:17 AM
RP here now!

02-04-06, 04:19 AM
Note - I stuck the RP subjects for the next card over in the "RP Lounge" for now so to not spoil the last card due to the subject titles.

Go there to RP - the subjects will be moved into this topic late-Monday, but don't let that stop you from getting to RPing NOW!


John Doe
02-04-06, 09:12 AM
Brought to you in SAP


El Gordo Grande is standing in front of an LVW background. Mexican Radio playing softly in the background. El Gordo Grande looks at the camera his mask on, hands on his hips. White t-shirt, Mexican flag in the middle.


La semana pasada yo sal* incre*blemente con una victoria. ¡Tiré lejos un último segundo mueve y entonces bam! Apenas como Santa Anna yo tuve una victoria. Una victoria larga del disparo, pero una victoria. Y ahora avanzaré en este torneo para ganar el premio más grande en la compañ*a, el mundo el t*tulo pesado. No sólo que obtengo para encarar la Máquina polaca de la Guerra Han Nowak

(Last week I unbelievably came out with a win. I pulled off a last second move and then bam! Just like Santa Anna I had a victory. A long shot victory, but a victory. And now I will advance in this tournament in order to win the biggest prize in the company, the world heavyweight title. Not only that I get to face the Polish War Machine Hans Nowak.)

Vi sus habilidades de lucha la semana pasada Han, usted es un hombre técnico. Usted quiere que las cosas vayan su manera o usted falla. Han, no se sienten desilusionaron si usted cae a m* yo quiero que usted recuerde que el mejor hombre avanzará. Si sucede serme, bien no los sentimientos duros Han

(I saw your wrestling abilities last week Hans, you are a technical man. You like things to go your way or you fail. Hans, don’t feel disappointed if you fall to me I want you to remember that the best man will advance. If it happens to be me, well no hard feelings Hans.)

No sólo que Han, esta semana yo soy un paso más cerca a llegar a ser al campeón. Después que esta semana que estaré aún más cerca. Yo le tomo como un adversario grave. No me subestime Han, yo puedo ser un poco de peso excesivo, un pedacito de tad alto, pero eso no significan nada cuando se baja a agudezas. Y mis agudezas aventajan suyo.

(Not only that Hans, this week I am one step closer to becoming the champion. After this week I will be even closer. I take you as a serious opponent. Don’t underestimate me Hans, I may be a bit overweight, a tad bit tall, but that means nothing when it comes down to wits. And my wits outdo yours.)

Yo aqu* he estado entrenando muy duramente. Trabajar mi cuerpo, y poniendo una exposición para los ventiladores, y para los ventiladores sólo. Y para los ventiladores yo ganaré esta semana y la caminata fuera con otra victoria. Y después que usted el próximo hombre caerá a m* como bien Han. Es apenas un asunto de cuándo hace el t*tulo está alrededor de la cintura

(I have been here training very hard. Working my body, and putting on a show for the fans, and the fans alone. And for the fans I will win this week and walk out with another win. And after you the next man will fall to me as well Hans. It’s just a matter of how soon will the title be around my waist.)

Es sólo un asunto de tiempo. La semana pasada yo tuve el mejor igual de mi carrera. Gran deportividad y un gran igual general. Tengo la misma esperanza para usted Han. No sólo que asumo que usted será un adversario duro y me proporciona con un desaf*o

(It’s only a matter of time. Last week I had the best match of my career. Great sportsmanship and a great overall match. I have the same expectation for you Hans. Not only that I assume that you will be a tough opponent and provide me with a challenge.)

Ese desaf*o se encontrará y será vence a largo plazo Han. En el regreso que proporcionaré usted con el mismo desaf*o, un desaf*o que usted tendrá problemas alcanzando. Un desaf*o que usted caerá a. Y al fin le estará levantando de la estera y sacudir la mano en el deporte bueno

(That challenge will be met and will be overcome in the long run Hans. In return I will provide you with the same challenge, a challenge that you will have a hard time accomplishing. A challenge you will fall to. And in the end it will be lifting you from the mat and shaking your hand in good sport.)

Con que espero que usted entienda que lo que sucede, suceda. As* que es si usted debe ganar. Es un Han fortuitos delgados, pero es una oportunidad, si usted gana y continúa, bien entonces la velocidad de Dios Han

(With that I hope you understand that what happens, happens. So be it if you should win. It is a slim chance Hans, but it is a chance, if you do win and carry on, well then God’s speed Hans.)

Pero cuando mi padre me dijo, no cuento sus pollos antes ellos salen del huevo. Y con que viene una lección usted aprenderá a Han. Una lección que tengo sent*a y una lección que yo no experimentaré otra vez. Eso es una promesa

(But as my father told me, don’t count your chickens before they hatch. And with that comes a lesson you shall learn Hans. A lesson I have felt and a lesson I will not experience again. That is a promise.)

Una razón yo me encuentro capaz de derrotarle Han no son porque usted retransmite en pura fuerza y en su habilidad en el anillo. Cualquiera y hace a s* mismo a una persona fuerte, no todos y compite en el mejor deporte en el mundo. Y cuando un hombre que es informado en el arte de este deporte que yo le encuentra Han como un adversario cómo relevos en su fuerza y la fuerza solas.

(A reason I find myself able to defeat you Hans is because you relay on pure strength and not your ability in the ring. Anybody and make themselves a strong person, not everybody and compete in the best sport in the world. And as a man who is knowledgeable in the art of this sport I find you Hans as an opponent how relays on his strength and strength alone.)

Eso es su ca*da Han, su fuerza le puede fallar. Un consciente del talento y el conocimiento del deporte aventajará a cualquier hombre que abruma. Eso es la verdad

(That is your downfall Hans, your strength can fail you. A mindful of talent and knowledge of the sport will outdo any overpowering man. That is the truth.)

Amigo de buena suerte. Usted lo necesitará

(Good luck friend. You will need it)



John Doe
02-04-06, 09:19 AM
¡Golpee el Choque del Choque del Choque Arriba!

02-04-06, 05:55 PM
RP here for the match.

02-04-06, 05:56 PM
bumping to get over deleted topic

02-06-06, 12:28 AM
(FADEIN: A stage at empty club where a giant hat stands upside down. Suddenly, EL MAGICK-O climbs out of the hat and stumbles on his weay down, but lands in a forward roll and comes to his feet....with PANACHE! Somehow his regular top hat stays on his head. He's wearing a red bodysuit with blue stars and comets streaing across it and a bat top hat with a red bill. Alternating reds make up the concentric circles on his facemask. He spread his arms and bows.)

EL MAGICK-O: .....and now for my next trick...after raising the dead....ordering it to crumble like the dust that it truly is...and then pinning iut for the 1...the 2..and the 3...I now have to face something far more horrifying than the dead not only walking amongst us, but wrestling!

And this, of course, is a cowboy.

Those chaps and that hat just makes my skin crawl, but, as a performer to millions, and the future and first LVW World Heavyweight Champion, I have a duty to my audience to maintain composure in the most deadliest of death traps.

Now I could demean James Donovan's victory last week over Gladiator by giving you all a detailed account of the show I did down in New Mexico where I vanished into my time cabinet and accidentally killed Spartacus, and thus had to lead his hisstorically-famous slave revolt myself, but then I'd have to tell you how I got my one and only chance to come back to the future and had to desert my legiosn to the Romans.

But I had to do what I had to do.

Not only so I could cash in on this time travel deal, but so I could save the world!

And then cash in on that.

Surely you've seen the skies darkening. And with the dead and cowboys walking amongst us, what could be next?

Only I stand, the master of the mystic and gential arts, to defend us all from that apporaching evil.

Thats why I had to perfect myself a professional wrestler in addition to making an extra paycheck for when my racehorses don't aways come through.

But how do I stop an indomitable cowboy monstrocity like James Donovan?

Well, the fates smiled on me last week, and which was really strange since I owe them 10 grand, but smile they did, probably because they remember what the "O" stands for.

Anyway, after my match with the Living Dead, I celebrated my victory by holding auditions for assistants in my hotel room. After the last, tiring round, I gazed into my bathroom sink and scried and saw James Donovan's weakness!

Or maybe that was just pillow talk.

Who knows how the dark secrets pass from world to world?

But our cowboy has a taste for prostitutes.

Now as a wrestler and magicians, I won't demean the world's oldest profession, and who among us hasn't woken up next to a dead hooker once or twice?

Luckily, I knew how to make them disappear....

And I'll perform this task, for a standard fee, for James Donovan....so long as he swears to to submit to the power of EL MAGICK-O as he levitates up the ranks of LVW and becomes its first and greatest champion...one that will save this world....this universe...and everyone's very soul!

Note, there's up either of my sleeves when I claim this....but there's always more....but that's what I have to leave you, and all the panting ladies, like any great artist does.

(Smoke flashes and EL MAGICK-O vanishes.)

02-06-06, 03:04 AM
I goofed on the day the RP period ends... Thursday, February 16th, will be the final day to get everything in.

02-07-06, 09:37 PM
"You bastard..."

Pahrump waiting room. C'mon, you expected him to be anywhere else?

JD: Why you cotton-pickin' no good, dirty son of a sow. It's one thing to come up in here and make fun 'a me fer bein' from Oklahomie, and it's one thing to be puttin' down them folks who done made this country great by herdin' the cattle and shootin' them dang redskins when they come raidin' the townsfolk.

But it's a whole different thing to be admittin' to killin' hookers. That just makes me get all darn-tootin' mad, and you ain't gonna like me when I'm darn-tootin' mad now, I reckon.

I mean, it's bad enough that you done admitted to wakin' up next to a hooker, cuz that's just rude and ain't mannerly now. I mean, they gots to make a livin' by f*ckin' their way 'round the neighborhood, and if yer keepin' 'em in bed, then yer keepin' em from puttin' food on their table. That ain't right. How'd you like it if I done stole yer magic hat or yer magic mirror or yer magic dildo I seen you use on stage that one time I saw you at the Copa? I bet you wouldn't be too happy wit' that, I reckon.

But then you go an' kill 'em? Why Mr. Magician Man? What have they ever done so bad that y'all had to kill 'em? Hookers are people too, and they're people who'll done f*ck you if ya pay 'em. I don't see no reason that they gots to die. I mean, just cuz they ain't got all their teeth, or cuz they have saggy titties don't mean they ain't as much a man or woman as you is. They deserves to live too.

An' that's why I gots to beat you this week. Not just fer the shot at the LVW World Championship, cuz that's prize enough, but now I gots to avenge those sweet, lovable hookers you done murdered. And I gots to make sure you don't kill no more hookers anymore, like the lovely gals here at Pahrump.

An' to think we coulda gotten along just fine, cuz we both like the same things. Magic, shiny things and women.

But you had to go and admit that. Well pardner, I hates to break it to ya, but I'm comin' after ya to gets me some revenge for those dead hookers. Cuz the only good hooker is one ya can still pay to give you head.

Fade to the LVW logo.

02-07-06, 10:02 PM

* Elvis runs into the Monte Carlo Hotel & Casino. He ducks into Lance Burton's Magic Shop as two swamp-donkeys run past him. A closer look at Elvis shows a few lipstick marks on his cheeks, his sunglasses are tilted, and his hair is quite disheveled. *

E.A.P.: "Holy moley! You'd think that bein' the King would come with all the pretty mama's that you could shake a hip at. Instead, I have to deal with women that look like a fire got put out on their faces with a wet chain. At least in Vegas, there's some show girls, but you gotta be careful! Las Vegas: where men are men, and some women are men also.

I need to find a glamour shop to get prettied up, but while I meander slowly down the strip, why don'tcha follow da' King?

What I guess the LVDubya camera's are here for are to hear me gloat about my victory over Jack House. Looks like I'm the first person in Vegas to walk away from busting the house. Now, I've made it on to the semis for that OH-SO-PRETTY title! But I've got time to rest my wounds before I go against a man who's more of a giant than any man.

I'm ready to tie-up and throw down Olvir. In the ring of course! I don't want him to do duty to this booty, baby! In fact, maybe after I advance to the finals I can ask the big man for some tips on gettin' the PRETTY ladies!

After all, he's the Sire of Sleaze and I'm the King of Cool, and together, we've banged everything from Anna Nicole, pre-Trim Spa, to Lisa Marie Pres...

Well, maybe not that far, but there's a reason that daddy's little girl married Michael Jackson...

Uh-oh...they're back. If you'll excuse me, I gotta get to runnin-running! HAVE MERCY, MAMAS!"

* Elvis tears ass down the strip towards Mandalay Bay as the uggos chase him down. *

02-08-06, 03:01 PM

(We open on a finely suited man with his back to the camera, making his way down a luxuriously furnished hotel hallway, the luxury suite section. His destination, at the end of the hall, is a set of double doors with two golden spears crossed above. As he nears them, a rhythmetic bumping sound can be heard getting louder with every step. The man in the suit stops at the door, where the sound is now accompanied by the pleasured moans, groans, and pants of more than one woman inside the room. The man looks over his shoulder, briefly exposing his face and reveal himself as LVW's talent rep Erik Black, and after a moment's hesitation, knocks.)



(The bumping sound ends at once, followed by an irritated and deep-pitched grumble. The sound of quick and heavy footsteps can be heard on the other side, and all at once the doors swing open. Black yelps and cringes in terror as Olvir Arsvinnar, clothed only in a royal blue robe--thankfully tied at the waist--and his trademark helmet, stands with a sneer, intense eyes, and a battle axe held over his head.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Who dares disturb the mighty festivities of Olvir the Great!?



(Upon recognizing the suited man, Olvir's rage quickly melts away, and a broad smile comes upon his face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Erik the Miniscule! How good of you to visit me at my home!

(Olvir tosses the battle axe aside, and something that sounds expensive breaks off screen. He steps forward and draws Erik into a suffocating bearhug. The talent rep's eyes can be seen bulging over Olvir's mighty bicep as his face is buried into his rippling pectorals. He scrambles wildly like a dog with its head trapped in an electric window, until finally the Viking releases him. Erik steps back panting heavily, hair messed up, his suit in disorder.)

Erik Black
Jesus, Olvir...

Olvir Arsvinnar
You have come to partake in my celebrating then, yes?

Erik Black
A victory celebration?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Of course, puny-pecker!! A celebration for my victory!! My victory... in showing the world that I am the greatest warrior alive!! HA HA HA HA!!

(He throws his head back as he laughs triumphantly, and the camera zooms on this defining pose.)


(Camera zooms out to fit Black into the frame, who looks puzzled.)

Erik Black
Greatest warrior alive? But Olvir, all you did was beat one guy! I mean, we've still got the finals, and--

Olvir Arsvinnar
Enough talk! Please come in and engage in my celebrating!

Erik Black
Engage in your...? Ah, no thanks, Olvir, but thanks for the offer. I was hoping I could just talk to you man to man, cause you see, I didn't think you'd have any company over. Has to do with business at LVW.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Las Vegas Wrestling, you say? Very well then! I believe I have done enough violating of the buttocks for the past week! Wait here just a moment while I empty my mead hall...

(Olvir disappears within his room again, and his great voice can be hear bellowing from within.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir no longer desires your company! Begone, all of you, until I summon you again!

(Thus begins the train of people exiting Olvir's suite...)

(A stunning brunette in red lingerie...)

(A stunning blonde in black lingerie...)

(A petite Asian in an schoolgirl outfit...)

(Two redhead twins, one dressed in leather bondage apparel and the other dressed like Raquel Welch in that one movie with Harvey Keitel where they were all ambulance drivers only they ran their place like a competitive business instead of a hospital... that was a cool movie, whatever it was...)

(Two Siamese twins, connected at the cheekbone...)

(A plumber...)

(Three rodeo clowns, one fat, one thin, one short...)

(A pint-sized furry purple elephant. As he passes by Erik, costume-wearer pulls off the headpiece, revealing a sweat-drenched dwarf inside. He waves his hand in front of his face as though smelling something rank.)

Dwarf Dressed as Purple Elephant
Whew, buddy... you might want to give it a few minutes before you go in there. I've been farting all night.

(With another flatulent squeak, the dwarf moves on. One final person meekly pokes her head out of the doorway, wearing only a sheet. Black's eyes widen immediately: it's the secretary from LVW's offices, plucked away at the conclusion of Olvir's last film.)

Erik Black

Judy the Secretary
OH! Mr. Black! Uh... didn't expect YOU to be here!

Erik Black
The same. What the hell was going on in there?

Judy the Secretary
In there? Oh, uh... nothing much.

(Judy quickly tip-toes out of the frame, and Erik enters the room.)

(Olvir's place is furnished as one would expect a Viking to decorate his mead hall. Walls have been fashioned to look like gray stone bricks, light source comes from a series of torches, furs, hides, and heads of felled beasts hanging proudly on display, and of course we can't overlook the great banquet table in the center of the room. Erik passes by an open doorway, and he looks in to see Olvir's bedchamber, a pit lined with furs. Black winces as though he caught a drift of something unpleasant.)

Erik Black
Oh, God, that midgit wasn't kidding!

(He moves on to the other side of the table, where Olvir fills his horn with another healthy pint of mead. In one corner resides a bigscreen TV.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
So, Erik the Short... what is it you have to discuss with ME, the greatest warrior to have ever raised the mighty steel!

Erik Black
Well, I was just hoping to see if you were preparing for you next match.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Next match? What match!? I have beaten Shorty, have I not?!

Erik Black
But Olvir, that was only the first round of the tournament! There are still two matches to go before you get the World Title!

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir cares not for any tournament!! I have proven myself! The lords of Las Vegas should hand me that title NOW!!

(To emphasize his anger, he slams his fist into the table. Erik looks slightly worried, but stands his ground.)

Erik Black
Nobody's denying to had a good match against Shorty, Olvir. Hell, you practically tore him a new asshole. The problem, however, is that the executives have only seen you in one match. You gotta go the full nine yards to earn that title, and that includes the Spades Finals and the four corners match for the strap.

Olvir Arsvinnar
I believe I'm beginning to understand, tiny man! Yes, beating only one man, especially as small and weak as Shorty, proves nothing to the lords and the people. Two matches, you say? Very well, I shall face these challenges and conquer my opponents, and THEN they will understand who the greatest warrior truly is!

Erik Black

Olvir Arsvinnar
Who is my next opponent?

Erik Black
Elvis Aaron Presley. Well, not the REAL Elvis Aaron Presley... this guy's just an impersonator, you see...

Olvir Arsvinnar
No, I do not see. Who is this "Elvis"? Another puny man?

Erik Black
Well, not quite. You see, Elvis was an important staple a while back... before you were... well, found frozen in ice, or whatever. He was a musician, an actor, and an overall entertainer. Many called him the "King of Rock and Roll".

Olvir Arsvinnar
A king! Such news... then he is truly worthy to wage war against the great viking, Olvir Arsvinnar!

Erik Black
He truly made his mark here in Las Vegas and inspired the lives of people across the world. But that was years ago. You see, the real Elvis died a while back.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! And his spirit has returned from the Land of the Gloomy to wage war against the living!

Erik Black
Well, no... uh, how can I explain this to you... okay, think if you died.

Olvir Arsvinnar
But I am invincible!

Erik Black
Yeah, but just pretend for a moment. Once you're gone, the people would be without a great warrior such as yourself in their presence. They would feel empty, exposed, and vulnerable. So, to help the situation, a few brave souls decide to make themselves look like you, and dress like you, and act like you, and fight like you. They IMPERSONATE you, to make people feel like the real thing is still there.

Olvir Arsvinnar
.................................................. ............what an ABHORRED notion!! There is only ONE Great Olvir, and no man could EVER live to the level of greatness I've achieved! Any such man who dares TRY should be beheaded for such heresy!!

Erik Black
Ah, well...

Olvir Arsvinnar
So, by your words, this "Elvis" is not the TRUE "King" he claims to be? He is an imposter of royalty, an offense that in my culture is punishable by death!! I shall SMITE him in that glorious ring for this insult!!

Erik Black
Hang on a sec... did you even see his promo?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Promo? What do you speak of?

(Erik opens his jacket and pulls out a disc, which he brings to the TV.)

Erik Black
Elvis had a few words to say about you and the upcoming match... you see, it's a standard practice in professional wrestling: two guys wage war with words to build hype for the match, then they meet in the ring to settle the score with their fists. Elvis made the first move with this...

(Erik turns on the TV, inserts the disc, and the antics of LVW's Elvis Aaron Presley escaping a train of ugly women appear on the screen. Olvir watches intent, eyes never blinking as he watches the promo in its entirity. Finally, it ends. Erik looks to the Viking.)

Erik Black
Well, Olvir... what do you think?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Well, Erik the Wee, I shall tell you of the thoughts on my mind...

The man who just appeared on my magic box... his words... his actions...





(Hands clutching his sides, Olvir falls into his throne with bellowing, tearful laughter that fills the entire room. Even the talent rep takes a step back, possibly unsure if the great man will explode.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
This Elvis is quite a jester! Running from his ugly wenches... his bold claims to defeat me... what was it he said, Erik? "Duty on his booty"? HA HA HA HA!!

Does he truly think he can defeat me? Does he think he can fully dominate the arse of the greatest living warrior? THIS arse?

(Olvir comes out of his throne, turns his back to the camera, and hikes up his robe to reveal his certifiably chiseled buttocks. Erik, eyes clenched shut, tears his face away.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
This mighty arse?! No many can align their foot with this strong buttocks? How many?! Tell me, Erik the Feeble! Feast your eyes upon my great buttocks!!

Erik Black
No, Olvir, that's okay, I don't want to see your butt.

(In one swipe of his arm, Olvir grabs his talent rep by the head and brings his nose within inches of his rump. Erik's expression morphs within seconds from shock to disgust to impressed to panicky.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Feast, FEEEAAASST!! Know what a true man's arse is!

Erik Black
Yes, yes, Olvir, you're ass is great, just please, for the love of God, LET ME GO!!

(Olvir releases the smaller man who quickly finds his distance. Olvir, dropping the robe over his lower half, throws his head back and laughs.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

Erik Black
Jesus... in any case, Olvir, in spite of however amusing you may find it, Elvis Aaron Presley is going into that ring, and he means business to beat you there in front of everybody. Don't take him lightly.

(With a devlish grin, Olvir draws a great warhammer.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Certainly not. There is nothing to fear, wimpy-willy! I will meet this Elvis in the ring... and while he comes with intent to defeat me, I will show him what a TRUE king is made of! I am no imposter of a great, invincible man: I am the real thing!

And perhaps when I am done, as he suggests, I will show him that a woman's true beauty lies not in her face...

It lies in her arse! HA HA HA HA!!

I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world, and I will prove it to HIM when it comes time to trade mighty blows!!

(In one mighty swing, Olvir plunges the blunt side of the hammer into the bigscreen TV, directly into the face of Elvis Aaron Presley on screen. The broken screen goes to static, and the Viking laughs again.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Come! Let us find this imposter and do away with him before he has a chance to find the ring!

Erik Black
What are you--hey, where you going?

(Bounding like a berserker, Olvir disappears into his bed chamber. A moment later, he reappears in his traditional battle gear, battle axe clutched tightly in his hands. Laughing widly, he disappears through the double doors to his suite. Erik Black, not certain of what is going on, runs after him.)

(We cut to the streets of Las Vegas, where Olvir Arsvinnar makes an aimless beeline down the sidewalk, taking out random pedestrians who aren't quick enough to get out of his way. Running behind him trying to keep up is a panicked Erik Black, passing off half-assed apologies to those who were unfortunately cast to the ground.)

(Suddenly, Olvir's eyes widen, and he laughs triumphantly. The camera spins to his POV, where an Elvis impersonator stands at a street corner, striking a pose for a pair of tourists who take a picture.)

(A warrior's grin plastered over his face, Olvir runs to the impersonator.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Elvis Aaron Presley, I am Olvir Arsvinnar, the greatest warrior in the world!

Elvis Impersonator
Well thank ya... thank ya very--

(He is cut off as Olvir's mighty fist smashes into his face. The tourists gasp in shock, and the Viking laughs triumphantly. A voice off screen suddenly catches his attention.)

Second Elvis Impersonator
What the sam hell? Oh, it's go time, baby!

(Olvir looks across the street, where he finds not just one but MANY Elvis Impersonators gathered outside of a casion lobby. The marquee above reads, '40th Annual Elvis Homage Convention.' All of them, seeing what just went down, raise their fists ready to fight.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Ah! Impersonators! I shall smite you all!

Third Elvis Impersonator
Oh, it's time to take care o' biznus...

(The Viking drops his battle axe at his feet and goes into the street fists waving. The Elvises meet him halfway through and a brawl ensues. The horns of the Viking helmet can be seen standing tall over the sea of studded white suits and slick, swooped black hair.)

(Erik Black turns the corner to witness this riot. He tears at his hair in anxiety. In the distance, police sirens are heard approaching...)


02-08-06, 03:17 PM
Yep... typical bump post.

02-08-06, 11:57 PM
(FADEIN: EL MAGICK-O lies back on a hotel room bed wearing a yellow bodysuit with orange and red stars and comets soaring across it, and a large red tophat with a black bill. Over his bodysuit, he wears a pair of black underwear. He's smoking a cigarette.)

EL MAGICK-O: Of all the wrestling holds and magic tricks at my disposal, the female orgasm is my greatest trick of all. It takes a man years and years to learn, mountains and mountains to climb, and lonely woman after lonely woman to learn. But I did. There's always groupies at the end of a magic show. The real trick is to give their kids 5 dollars to hit the arcade while you hit up their mothers.

And its because of tidbits like this that the "O" in "El Magick-O" stands for orgasm, the little death.

Yeah, sure, sometimes you wake up next to a woman and you don't know who she is, and then she's asking for you to pay for the night. But I guarantee to you that El Magick-O only kills his women with pleasure.

With the big O!

As any mysterious bodies, well, any good magician knows where to stash and later burn those. Not that's there any traces that anyone could follow.

So Mister Cowboy James Donovan, you watch what you say to the maste rof the Mystic Poison Fists of the Pacific and European Rims.

I merely offered you a service, a chance to experience wonder, and learn how to take out a special kind of trash.

But when you make absurd claims about a man wearing a mask and killing hookers, you might attract the wrong kind of attention, from the wrong type of people that magicians owe money to!

Not only are you endangering me in that squared circle, but you're affecting my magic career as well!

The last person to do so passed through the Veil of Misted Abyss and hasn't been seen or heard from since! But for you, Mister Donovan, there is a whole of mirrors that I will transport you to with a blink of the eye, a snap of the fingers, and after all the smoke clears, you'll endless reflectiosn of yourself, and each and every hooker you couldn't get rid of!

Because you didn't have El Magick-O's help!

And without mystic knowledge to combat his skill in the dark art and the light pale, you will fall and your career revealed as a sham! And an illusion!

Like all cowboys.

The sooner we're rid of you all, the better.

And once you've lost your chance to become LVW World Champion, you won't even be able to pay for sex, elt alone beg for it.

Because all the ladies will be begging to learn the secret of El Magick-O's special, special magic cane.

02-10-06, 02:55 AM
We fade in to a dark room. Nothing but a single computer monitor lights the room. From somewhere in the dark, we hear a voice that is becoming all too familiar. It is clearly that of the Web Browser.

WB: Different day…same old ****.

Here we are yet again, one step closer in this World Title tournament, and yet again, the Web Browser’s name comes up on the card.

It’s not like I asked for any of this ****.

All I asked for was a paycheck to help me from being another victim in the capitalistic world.

I simply ask for something to make me like all the other pawns in this horrible game.

Titles and wins don’t mean **** to me right now.

They could tell me to go out and let some damn municipal court judge put me through a set of five flaming tables and I would; so long as they still write that check after the show.

Everyone else here is nice and busy being wrapped up in what they like to think is some sort of pinnacle that’s going to set them apart from each and every other person in the locker room.

Me? I’m just happy with the hour and a half I get to spend in a room that’s not cold and damp.

I’m just peachy with the fact that I get to leave my friends for just a little bit.

Because while I enjoy the company of the rodents that exist within the realm that I’m forced to live in, I too like to have some time to myself.

Yet, the other morons that are left still seem to think that some combination of leather and gold is going to mold them into something that’s going to make them a star in light of each and every gambler’s eye.

Screw that.

Instead, I’ll just take the time to put in my fifteen minutes and walk away with the two-fifty a week that helps me to get by.


Browser steps into the light of the computer monitor. He keeps his head turned so that only the right side of his face is seen.

WB: It’s when things become too out of hand that it makes me think differently.

I like to think that I’m not a man of violence, but once something crosses me OR my face wrong, thoughts begin to filter through this computer-based head of mine.

Men like Ben Lerner are the reasons why people mess with the Web Browser and get hurt.

Men like Ben Lerner, who like to try and play mind games only to have their asses handed to them, are the reasons why the next guy I fight in that ring might not walk out alive.

Inside that ring, I am but a rookie trying to make a living and pull a terrible life out of the gutter.

Outside that ring, I’m a gentle computer nerd until you piss me off.

Browser turns to show his entire face. The left side is completely purple after the briefcase shot last week.

WB: And once I’m pissed off, I’m not one to be messed with.

Call me unorthodox, call me crazy, call me whatever you want…

Just know that once that I get past a certain level, there’s no turning back and I will do whatever it takes to hurt you.

The problem for good old Mitch Grey is that Ben Lerner has already pressed me over that line.

And now, I haven’t had much else to do but kill a few friends for food and survival since that last bell rang.

Poor, poor Mitch Grey is going to find out what happens when you get near a pissed off computer programmer.

And once I’m done with him, his systray is going to be so jumbled, he’s going to have to “end task” on his life.

Browser ducks back into the darkness as he lets out a sadistic laugh.

02-10-06, 07:47 PM
* The MGM Grand Hotel. Elvis. Women swooning. LVW cameras. Need we say anything else? *

E.A.P. "Imposter?!? IMPOSTER?!? Listen, Mr. Black, if you want to throw accusations like that around, you shouldn't do it behind someone's back. Let alone doing it to influence Mr. Arsvinnar into a state of hatred directed towards myself.

"Olvir, come on, I'm the King, baby. Why would I want to lie about something like that? With all the REAL imposters running around this town, feeding off my image, I make enough royalties to provide a nice living. If I pretended to be an imposter, I'd be treading all over their blue-suede shoes, and it would be all kinda nasty raining down on the King. Plus, that would be exploitation, and exploitation is just wrong.

"The King would NEVER exploit a person. A race of people, perhaps. Again. But a single person, never.

"Of course, you know ALL about 'all kinda nasty raining down', don't you? I've recently watche...err...stumbled accidently upon some of your work, and , I gotta say, it's impressive. I mean, so much beauty on that screen, and you get to defile it at your will.

"In my mind, I think that we shouldn't be fighting, we should be teaming! We could be the first tag-team in LVW! We could call ourselves: The Vi-KINGS of Las Vegas! What do ya' think? Sure, it's a little rough, but it's great. You could rape, pillage and plunder while I shake, rattle and roll!

"Hell, son! Here's a motto: We'll Beat On Your Ass, Then We'll Wrestle You. Huh? Huh? I love it. With both of us catching up on life in the present day, what better way than to help each other through it??

"You gotta make the call though, and dump that bump on a log, Mr. Black. Can't you see that he's just using you for his own good. Playing dumb while calling the shots. I see how he talks to you: 'Olvir, do this' 'Olvir, do that' 'Olvir, is it real?'

"You're being exploited! Break free from your shack-a-lack-a-lackles!

"But we gotta put the plan for The Vi-KINGS on hold until I win the LVW World Title. I mean, how much credibility would it give us, if we had me, the man who MADE Las Vegas, holding the title that I deserve?

"So, for my sake. For our sake. For the fans' sake. Put on a good match, but take the fall. It's not the end of the world. From one warrior to another, much more endowed, warrior. Think of the children.

"After all, if you don't, you'll be on the receiving end of The Flying Pelvis, and for once in your career, that ISN'T a good thing."

02-10-06, 08:03 PM
(CUEUP: “Soon We’ll be Dead” by Leftover Crack and World Inferno/Friendship Society…)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, Misfits skull logo T-shirt, black jeans shorts, standing cross armed in front of a gas station, somewhere in the Nevada desert….)

“the last goth monster”

Y’know sumpthin’ bratha…I had expectations for the Web Browser. I expected some retard with a silly computer nerd shtick, telling me about how he’s gonna reboot my hard drive, because I can’t upgrade to Pentium plus, or whatever…

Instead I’m listening to someone who kinda reminds me of me….right up until the end, where there was some computer crap, but I can let it slide.

Christ, his promo even reminded me of one of the ones I shot for my last match, right down to the lightening scheme. Not that he was ripping me off. Neither of us invented hanging out in the dark.

Browser, and I’m speaking directly to you now…I’m not going to stand here and tell you about how badly I’m going to beat you. Don’t get me wrong, and don’t get me wrong, I do intend to beat you. Badly. But, see, I’ve been doing this for a while. I’m what they call a “seasoned veteran.” But you’re not talking the way I did when I was your age. You’re talking like I do now. I figure that means you’re a pretty smart guy. Smarter than I was at your age. Smarter than most of the guys on the roster. What you don’t have, that I do, is instinct.

So hear me out for a sec. Maybe you’ll learn something.

You’re pissed off. That’s good. Got that bloodlust and adrenaline pumpin’ eh? Want s’m revenge? Wanna f(bleep) some sh(bleep) up? Great. Use it. Don’t lose focus. What’s his name who attacked you? He’s not coming to smash you up. I am. I’m coming to smash you up something brutal. You show up to this match looking over your shoulder, or planning some sneak attack spot, well, you won’t last. You won’t even look like you put up a good fight, and you won’t be world champion.

You’re in this to pay the bills? Me to. I wouldn’t even be here if the store I was managing hadn’t blown up, and I didn’t have child support bills to worry about. Of course I still want to be world champion. I want to pay my bills faster, and have more money left over. Just because I’m not a glory monger doesn’t make me a retard.

But the fact that I have these bills, that I have to be here, that does piss me off a lot. More than it would piss me off if, lets say, some wrestler attacked me for some reason. The fact that I have nothing to lose anymore, that makes me more dangerous than an unhinged computer nerd.

You’re not the first person who’s threatened to kill me, sporto. Somehow, I’m not that scared. I’m not even taking it personally. Hell, I find it kind of endearing. Makes me nostalgic. Nobody’s threatened to kill me in a good while. Back in the good old days, people threatened to kill me all the time. A lot of them were even mad at me, and not somebody else.

You’re underestimating me, but even that reminds me of the good old days back when this was still fun. When I was living a dream, lost in f(bleep)king neverland, where we all get to play superhero action figure recess games for the rest of our lives. You’ve already seen through that. Bravo. But what you should know, is most people don’t underestimate me anymore. I had to beat the snot out of a LOT of people before they stopped doing that. With a name like Web Browser, probably you’ll have the same problem. Me? I know better. I don’t underestimate anyone. You might have a silly name. You might be a rookie. I’m still going to hit you as hard as I possibly can.

I’m not interested in killing you Browser. I’m interested in most of the same things you are. Get the paycheck, get the W, go home, and hope none of this stupidity follows me back…..But just recently, something’s shifted….I had apathy when I got here. It seems to have left me.

Maybe I’ve spent years trying to convince myself I’m something I’m not.

Maybe I want the violence after all. (spreads his arms to the sides in a mock cross, and walks off.)

Mad Dog
02-10-06, 11:55 PM
(FADEIN to Carmine Esposito in his suite at the Sam Remo Hotel and Casino. He’s sitting on his bed and staring off in the distance, as if he is in thought. He stands up and looks at the camera.)

CARMINE ESPOSITO: I find it funny that I go into hiding for one week and LVW acts as if I don’t exist. (shrugs his shoulders.) I got snubbed out of the World title tournament. (Shakes his head.) Now granted…my record doesn’t exactly impress most of you, but I was just findin’ my groove…I was just gettin’ HOT…and then I get booked against the LVW Cooler, Hans Nowak.

Nowak, don’t think that just because LVW forgot about me…that YOU can forget about me. You stiffed me for 25 large…and trust me, I’m gonna get it back…with interest. Do you think just because you whacked me with a briefcase that it was the end? That all your troubles were over? (Shakes his head.) No Hans…its just getting started!

(Jimmy Two Times enters the room and is yelling at someone on his cell phone.)

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Now you listen here, pal – pal! You don’t make a wager with Jimmy Two Times and then say I f(BLEEP)in’ wrote it down wrong – down wrong! I’ve been doing business for years – for years, that’s why you came to me - to me, because I pay up with no bulls(BLEEP) – no bulls(BLEEP).

(Listening to the caller.)

JIMMY: No…stop right there – right there. You are the dumb fu(BLEEP) that took the Over on the Super Bowl – Super Bowl. And what is with the prop bets – prop bets? You f(BLEEP)in’ ***** – *****.

(Listening to caller.)

JIMMY: Oh…is that right – that right? Well you better damn well have my money by midnight tonight – tonight! You f(BLEEP)in’ prick – prick!

(Folds up his cell phone.)

CARMINE: Yo Jimmy…you mind? (Bugs his eyes out at the camera.) I’m doin’ a promo ova’ here! Vecchio schifoso!

JIMMY: Excuse me, Carmine…but you ain’t exactly in a position to tell me what the f(BLEEP) to do – to do! You wanna have me give your opinions just a slight amount of consideration – consideration? You go and you bring me back that dough Nowak stole from us in that ladder match – ladder match. And you pay me every cent you owe me – owe me. The only reason you ain’t in a meat locker somewhere is because we’re from the same neighborhood – neighborhood. Otherwise…I woulda’ whacked ya’ a long time ago – time ago. Capiche – Capiche?

CARMINE: Did you talk to your uncle? Is he going to give us some time?

JIMMY: I bought us some time, but you’ve gotta produce – produce.

(Carmine nods his head.)

JIMMY: I got you a match this week – this week. LVW is putting you in the ring against a new guy – new guy, some finocchio they just signed up named Romeo Traven – Traven.

CARMINE: Romeo? What is this, f(BLEEP)in’ Shakespeare or something? We ain’t gonna be out there reciting soliloquies, yo. And unfortunately for you…Juliet has already off’ed herself. So you might as well go on to the final scene and end your miserable life too, join the donnina…that selfish ****, and don’t even bother showing up this week.

(Camera zooms in on Carmine.)

CARMINE: See what everyone is failing to realize…I’m a player. LVW didn’t sign me because they know I’m eye candy, which I am…but that’s not the reason. They signed me because they knew instantly that the Esposito names carried a lot of prestige …had a lot of value…and the stingy pricks wanted their chance to wring it all out of me.

I may have missed the boat on being in the World title tournament. (Shrugs his shoulders.) But I can deal with that. It just makes me wanna work harder. It makes me wanna beat down the next frocio that thinks they are gonna knock me back down off the ladder.

But what no one seems to see…is that I’ve already hit rock bottom…I can’t fall any further. I’m desperate. I’m hungry. And I’ll do WHATEVER I have to do…in order to SURVIVE!

Traven…I feel sorry for your mother. She’s gonna have to witness her little sbrodare get wiped off the face of LVW!

(The camera zooms out and puts both men into the frame.)

JIMMY: Carmine…I ain’t ever seen you this fired up before – before. I want you in the gym right now – right now. You need to train – to train. We’re on the way to the top – to the top.

(Carmine leaves the rooms and Jimmy’s cell phone rings.)

JIMMY: Talk to me – talk to me.

(The voice on the other end speaks.)

JIMMY: You wanna bet on the Winter Olympics – Olympics? You gotta be kiddin’ me – kiddin’ me.

(The caller speaks again.)

JIMMY: I have no idea how to handicap Curling and Freestyle Snowboarding – Snowboarding. Plus its coming from the homeland, I just wouldn’t feel right doing it – doing it. But if you want any action on the Pro Bowl, you know who to call – to call.


02-11-06, 01:14 AM
Jimmy Donovan is at the buffet up at the Sands... hey, bangin' ain't easy, and a man gotsta eat to fuel his sex romps.

JD: Y'know, El-Magick-O, I reckon you oughtn't worry about the LVW World Title when you gots all them nasties followin' you around like that an' such. Maybe you should worry about holin' yerself up in the ground, or usin' yer magic to make yerself disappear. Now that I done blown the cover up off a' yer hooker killin', I gots you all up an' scared, didn't I?

Well, you done deserved it fer killin' God's most loveable creatures. I mean, where in the Bible does it ever say you cain't lay down with wimmens after you done paid 'em anyway?

Random Guy: Several times, especially in the Old Testament.

JD: Well I'll be darned. I guess that's what I get fer missin' church the last twenty years or so. Christianity is done overrated anyway if it ain't gonna let you lay down wit' hookers an' such.

But I didn't ferget everythang, and I'm pretty sure it says in there that you ain't supposed t'kill neither. An' I think you oughts t'pay for killin' them hookers. That's why I done plan on kickin' yer ass all the way up an' down the Strip. An' maybe I'll done remove yer mask too so that everyone you done owe money to cain see where you are an' they can come collect.

Cuz killin' hookers is wrong, and you oughts t'pay for it. It don't matter who y'all are, even if yer the Poisonous Fists of the Pacific Rim or whatever... speakin' of that, you ever get a Pacific Rimjob? It's deee-vine, I like it when she gets the tongue all the way up in there so it feels like she's done lickin' my prostate.

Some guy in the background throws up.

JD: Ooops, my momma done told me not to talk about stuff like that when folks is eatin'. My fault, pardner.

But come the show, Mr. Magic-Man, everythang that happens to you will done be yer fault.

Fade to the LVW logo.

02-13-06, 03:15 AM
“You’ve got mail!”

“Copy and paste this message to fifteen or more friends and be entered into a drawing for a million dollars or a day in the life of Mitch Grey.”

“Haha! Like I’d copy anything to be like Mitch Grey.”

Fade in. The computer screen stills lights the room. Instead of a full spectrum of light, half of it is blocked by Web Browser and very messy mop-top. He gives a chuckle as he speaks.

WB: Copy your ****ing style?

Like your style is something that each and every person in this god forsaken universe wants to imitate?

Like Mitch Grey is the pinnacle of everything that is man?

Time to wake up sweetie.

I wouldn’t copy your ****ing style if it was already placed in a Xerox machine that gave me five dollars for every copy I made.

You think this lighting scheme is something that I’m bragging about because it makes me look like Torment simply due to the lack of light and style to my camera time?

Please. I’m a computer nerd and I know more about wrestling than that talentless hack.

This lighting is because I’m a ****ing poor bastard and can’t afford to have my name signed to some sort of lease that checks further into the past that only slaughters my name even more. So please, spare me the wannabe like me ordeal.

Browser swivels his chair around and looks into the camera.

WB: Yet, even though he comes out and says that he agrees with me that he’s only here to pay the bills; Mr. Grey here still wants to pound the fact that he is going to defeat me square in the middle of the ring this week.

Let’s go over this one more time here.

Another victory in this pitiful life that I call being a professional means absolutely nothing to me.

As a matter of fact, I would easily walk down to the ring and lie down for my opponent so long as to gain the check, but they won’t pay me for doing that.

Therefore, I have to go out there and put forth effort into kicking your ass, the only way a complete moron when it comes to physicality can.

And if somewhere along that effort, you happen to fall to the mat for a three, then so be it. Frankly, I could care less.

Maybe it’s because I’m not a “seasoned veteran”, but somehow, the outcome of the match really doesn’t matter to this green rookie.

Browser shakes his head with a smile.

WB: The one thing you did manage to get right though was the fact that I am smarter than you.

Not because I could run circles around you in the Microsoft neighborhood network, but because you’re, quite frankly, just a ****ing all-around moron.

You are to idiocy what Norton is to virus defense.

You see, I’m not really pissed about anything.

I’m not too happy with what Mr. Lerner pulled last week, but he will get his when the time arrives.

I’m not looking over my shoulder, waiting on anyone to attack me from behind.

If that’s the only way they can do it, then I guess that’s saying something for me.

I’ll just walk out of that ring with another disqualification win that I don’t care about, seeing as how everyone thinks they must cheat to defeat a desk jockey anyway.

And none of this is an underestimation of you in any way.

I’m just saying that if you can get out of this match with a clean pinfall over me that you’ll be one of the first because no one else wants to even try.

Browser leans back and turns his monitor off, leaving the entire screen to black again.

WB: I mean, I’m just some guy who’d rather be eating Doritos and laughing at situational comedies than fighting inside some wrestling ring.

But if LVW’s short history has anything to say about this upcoming match, you’re just going to be another moron whose quest for some pathetic title is put on “standby”.

We sit in the black for a moment before we hear a large crash.

“Son of a *****! I need lights!”

02-13-06, 05:08 AM
( A tourist helicopter flies over the Hoover Dam for a spectacular photo opportunity for the amazed tourists that are on board. As the helicopter flies away, another camera on the ground gains an even better view of "Broadway" Johnny Doll looking over the side and down the monsterous wall that holds back millions of gallons of Nevada's precious water resource. The camera focuses on Doll... He is wearing a blank stare. An opportune moment that he had to make a big step up the food chain of Las Vegas Wrestling, all but gone. Wondering what the future holds and where he begins to make his presence felt within the company. The blank stare falls away as he turns around, away from the awesome spectacle and away from the edge.)

DOLL: " Can you believe that view? (pointing back toward the edge of the dam.) Some things amaze me about this state. Hoover Dam, the Colorado River, Red Rock, the desert, Reno, Laughlin, Lake Tahoe, the Vegas strip, the heritage that Las Vegas holds... Elvis Presley... The Rat Pack... Steve Wynn... The Mafia... You know it's not called Sin City for nothing. When you think of happening places, sure Los Angeles... New York.. they both come to mind. But, Las Vegas IS the most happening place I have ever witnessed. I am very thrilled to be a part of LVW history. "

( Doll walks away from the camera but turns back around to address what is on his mind.)

DOLL: " I can't say that I am thrilled about losing in the tournament. I wanted to be LVW's First World Champion with a passion. Although it was a great night, a great match and the fans loved the show... I didn't like the outcome. It proves that I didn't have my game on. I will admit that I wasn't ready for Gordo's lucha style of wrestling. I was so caught up in the tournament atmosphere that I didn't work on my timing and my speed. I also gave Gordo too much hospitality. I defended him to people when I didn't need to. What I needed was to focus on the wrestler that was in the ring with me. I apologize to the fantastic LVW fans who came to see me give 110% and didn't get to see it. It won't happen again. They have already stuck behind me with such applause and vigor. They pump me up every single time I have needed it. The fans of LVW are loyal and kind and I should be the same way toward them. Without them, I am nothing inside that squared circle. In fact, I am nothing without them cheering me on in any LVW ring."

( The camera follows Johnny as he inches toward his rental car.)

DOLL: " I have a second chance. A second shot at becoming the #1 contender for the LVW title. Another opportunity at grabbing the brass ring. Winning this match is the next best thing to covet in the organization. I'm not taking it lightly. In this match, I am facing four of the toughest men that LVW has to offer. The only things that we share in common are that we didn't make it to the second round and that we are pissed about it. Each one of us wants to be standing on the mountain looking over the others in LVW who wish they could be us. I want to prove to those wonderful fans that they have someone that they count on each and every night that I step into the ring as LVW puts on another great show. Whether it be someone as psychotic and unpredictable as the Living Dead. Or the tough as nails, Ben Lerner... the intestinal fortitude of Bill Bellmoth... or even the tremendous talent of Jonathan Nash. I am going to be one thought and two steps ahead of each man in that ring. I have something that they don't have and that is the edge of the fans on my side. Hearing one "Broadway" chant after another to get my adrenaline pumping will be what puts me over the top in this contest. I won't settle for anything less in this upcoming match. You can make the bet in any casino from here to Carson City that I will walk out as the #1 contender to the LVW World Title!"

(As Johnny ends the segment, he hops over the door into the black Plymouth Sebring convertible, cranks it up and drives away...)

02-13-06, 11:26 PM
(FADEIN: MISS ANN and HANS NOWAK in his Hilton Hotel suite. Ann readies herself for the LVW cameraman – it’s a lonely crew – while Hans is in a lounge chair reading “Ready, Set, Grow: What’s happening to my body”.)

MISS ANN: Hans put book down. How a girl’s body change at twelve no matter to you. Not when you have a woman, a full-grown Cat who desperately needs to purr. My beast, **** you for making me wait, for making me suffer these coy games. You’ve seen what a dry, lonely winter it’s been. Don’t torture me so by investing in children. Put book down, and tell Momma how you’re going to destroy Mexican wonderboy. .

HANS: In my village (Hans stands, tossing book aside with Emmy winning vengeance) woman would be SLAIN for the audacity in which you address me. I am your MASTER!

MISS ANN: Yes (she cowers willingly) yes my savior!

HANS: Women do not BEG HANS to have legs spread like Red Sea and Hans people fleeing inside her!

MISS ANN: No, No….I have angered beast, forgive me…

HANS: You are WHORE! University educated WHORE! You subject yourself to what I decide to give, what I choose to put on your place and will you to eat. (addresses camera) El Gordo Grande…you not so different friend. Have you not whored yourself to this country? Did you not crawl under chain link fence, maybe through a tear in fence that your brother or father ate away years before? You come to this imperialistic battlefield and you lay down and court it’s riches. You are fat alien who’s been titty ****ed too many times by this wasteland. El Gordo, to beat Hans to even DREAM of standing up to my will and MIGHT…you must have pride. How long ago, child, did you lose that?

MISS ANN: A lifetime ago. He is but a begger Beast. A filthy begger, no better than I. I would gladly breadtie his balls and break them, but I know my place. I am allowed the scraps of this country’s destruction…nothing more.

HANS: SILENCE woman! Hold your tongue! Alien…you think Hans’ unnatural strength is nothing to be afraid of? I am not some buffoon to be outdone by spinach eating sailor. Yes, I uproot million year old trees with two hands…yes I can pull school bus of children…

MISS ANN: Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

HANS. With my teeth… but to be 5-time Strongest Man Champion. To be everything that HANS is…boy, man must have mental capacity! I speak four languages Alien. How many do you? In Poland I’m speed Chess champion, have you even seen a game board? No, you have not. For you are a dirty whore who will ask this country to give you something for which you are not deserving…ONE MORE TIME. But, this land…this land is not my land….I spit on this land coward.

MISS ANN: And rightfully so.

HANS: You come to this creep show…with your hands out…begging. Hans come….to overthrow. One day El Gordo…I will be your King. This comes good news to you. You are looking for honest man to serve, benevolent soul to hand you work. Hans assure you of job this week…for when HANS ATTACK! No man…stands back up.

MISS ANN: Turn cameras off you pussies. Hans…punish me. I have been a bad girl, King.



02-14-06, 01:38 AM

(A long police station hallway, painted a calming white which seems to radiate a cold feeling underneath the flourescent lighting.)



(Shoes clacking loudly and resonating a cold echo, a man in uniform leads Erik Black along this hallway. Following them is a young man with black hair styled to look like Elvis Presley. An impersonator, but not quite... he comes dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. Just a paid actor, perhaps.)



Police Officer
Thank you for coming on such short notice... we really didn't know what to do with him.

Erik Black
It's not a problem. He has a match to compete in, after all... though I figure keeping him in here, where he CAN'T punch everything he sees, would be better for the public of Las Vegas.

Police Officer
Say that to the three guys sent home with black eyes and broken noses in the past few days. I swear... we had to use ever tranquilizer dart in the precinct just to keep him pacified!


Erik Black
What did you guys do with him?

Police Officer
Well, the first thing we though about was putting him in the jail with the rest of the bums we pick up around here... but that turned out to be a bad idea.

(The two pass by the bars of the station's jail area, filled with a dozen or so Elvises of varying shapes, colors, and sizes, all of them looking verily pissed off.)

Police Officer
Then we thought about stashing him in the drunk tank, but... well, that didn't work either.

(They pass by the reinforced door to the padded room where rowdy drunks spend their nights. It's been ripped off its hinges, a large shoulder-shaped divot in the center of the door.)

Police Officer
At which point, one of the detectives came up with a pretty solid idea... and we haven't had any problems with him since.

(The two enter a room filled with desks occupied by various officers filing reports. At the desk right next to the door, with his feet propped on the table, is Olvir, still dressed in his robe and still wearing his helmet, letting out a series of booming laughs that silences all the commotion in the room. Several detectives look in his direction with irritation.)

(In his hands he holds a book, a collection of Hagar the Horrible comic strips.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Never have I seen such an amusing Norseman! HA HA HA HA!!

Erik Black
Uh, Olvir?

(Olvir looks over his shoulder and notices the talent rep standing behind him. He comes to his feet immediately, knocking the chair over and tossing the Hagar book aside.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Erik the Little! At last, you've come... as I knew you would!

Erik Black
Right. Anyhow, your bail is paid for, so we can leave now...

Olvir Arsvinnar
Splendid. The sooner I am out of this wretched dungeon, the sooner I can return to my dominating of the women's hinds!

Police Officer
The feeling is mutual, pal. You've been nothing but trouble since the day we dragged you in here.

Erik Black
Come on, Olvir, let's go...

(Olvir comes out of the chair and follows Erik back into the hallway, where the young man with the Elvis hair is still waiting.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Who is this beardless lad?

Erik Black
Oh, uh... this is Tony Marconi.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Another cowardly impersonator of the King of Las Vegas?

Erik Black
No. I just paid him fifty bucks to tell you everything Elvis Aaron Presley said about you in his last promo. You know, since you've been here, I figure you've been without TV. Tony, you wanna sum it up?

(The paid actor clears his throat and begins.)

Tony Marconi
Uh, yo Olvir! I ain't no imposter, right, see, I'm like the real thing, you know? But yo, youse is a pretty impressive sorta guy, you know? Youse oughta dump that Erik Black guy and we could like, you know, join forces or somethin'. That ****'d be tight, yo, you know? But first, aight, youse gotta let me win the title, because I deserve it more, bein' what I am, you know, and if you don't then I'd just beat youse anyway. Right?

(There's a brief silence between the three men...)

(And without warning, Tony Marconi goes down, sent by the mighty fist of an angry Olvir Arsvinnar!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Take that weakling Elvis Presley, you puny coward! I am victorious! HA HA HA HA!!

Erik Black
Whoa! Olvir, that wasn't Elvis Aaron Presley... that was Tony Marconi.

Olvir Arsvinnar
So, this supposed "king" expects me to bow to him?

(Olvir turns to the camera and does one thing nobody has ever seen him do: he addresses his opponent directly.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Let us understand one thing, Elvis King, if you are truly who you claim to be...

The Great Olvir is the greatest Viking to have ever lived, and he therefore lives the life of a Viking!

When a Viking comes to a new kingdom, his intentions are never to bow to and serve the lord! Rather, it is his duty to DESTROY that kingdom, to PILLAGE is riches and fortunes, and to CARRY OFF its women to breed a new kinship of warriors!!

And THAT is just why the Great Olvir has come to the city of Las Vegas, where he shall DEFEAT the reigning king in combat, and RULE in his stead!

If you are the TRUE king, Elvis the False, then I suggest you cherish your final days bearing the crown and sitting upon the throne, because the Viking is on his way to throw you aside and take it all for himself! THAT is the Viking way... and THAT is Olvir's way!

When it comes time for us to do battle, I will DOMINATE you as I do the buttocks of so many fine women! I vow that when I am through with you, the ladies Priscilla and Ann-Margret will be BEGGING me to carry them off!

HA HA HA HA!! Elvis the Weak... you will check into the Back-Break Hotel, because you are not anything but foolish hound who weeps!

HA HA!! Are you lonesome tonight, Elvis the Foolish? Because you will be lonesome until you join the Gods of Valhall when the womenfolk see your mangled, beardless face! HA HA!! You will truly be... all shook up!!

In truth, you are the Elvis in disguise, a sad little man who knows not the glory of the hunt, the battle, or the buttocks! In my time you would have been BEHEADED... then BELEGGED... then BELOINED... then BEBUTTED...

Erik Black
...how in the hell do you "bebutt" somebody?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Make your time, "king", because the Great Olvir will... will...

(Olvir seems to be at a loss of words, when Tony Marconi, bruised and groaning, slowly makes his way to his feet. Olvir quickly puts him down again with another quick right hook, sending the poor young man to the floor like a ton of bricks.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
He will SMASH you just as he smashed that puny man! HA HA HA HA!!

(With proud strides, Olvir continues down the hallway, passing by the holding area filled with Elvises. They quickly go to the bars, scowling and cursing.)

First Elvis Impersonator
Hey now, fuzzy britches... you ain't done with the Elvises, baby.

Second Elvis Impersonator
The KING is gonna dance all over your pretty little face there, bubba. He's gonna take care a' biznass.

Third Elvis Impersonator
You tell him, Elvis. We got your back, baby.

Second Elvis Impersonator
Thank ya... thank ya very much.

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir cares for you weaklings no longer! At Prelude, I will defeat the Elvis that speaks for you all, and I will have my victory over all the impersonators of the fallen King of Las Vegas! HA HA HA HA!!

(With his boisterous laughter drowning out all sound, Olvir continues on, leaving behind numerous angrily murmuring Elvis impersonators. Erik Black looks at them and shrugs.)

Erik Black
Ladies and gentlemen... the Great Olvir Arsvinnar has left the building.

(Some of the impersonstors, enraged by this mockery, lunge at the bars and reach out, but to no avail. Shaking his head with a smirk, Erik follows Olvir out of the police station while the Elvises clamor at the jailhouse bars. We fade out on their curled-lipped faces.)


John Doe
02-14-06, 09:54 AM

MGM Grand, El Gordo Grande’s favorite casino and hotel. He is moving up in the world from penny slots, to dime slots, now to quarter slots. He drops his quarter and pulls down on the reel. Not a winner. He keeps dropping them in. He loses again and sighs. EL Gordo Turns to the screen.


Han, usted me ha faltado al respeto, usted ha faltado al respeto mi familia, y más que nada usted ha faltado al respeto mi pa*s. Desemejante usted Han mi pa*s, mi familia tiene las cosas para estar orgulloso de. México tiene las cosas para estar orgulloso de. Uno de esas cosas es su héroe, m*.

(Han’s, you have disrespected me, you have disrespected my family, and most of all you have disrespected my country. Unlike you Hans my country, my family has things to be proud of. Mexico has things to be proud of. One of those things is their hero, me.)

Han, usted se sienta alrededor de inyectar sus l*quidos de juicing, tratando de llegar a ser un ejemplar anormal genético. Alguna gran bestia de hombre. Usted no es nada, usted no me impresiona. Su talento del anillo no es nada sobresaliente, el conocimiento del anillo tan brillante como un alumno del tercer grado que estudia la álgebra avanzada.

(Han, you sit around injecting your juicing fluids, trying to become a genetic freak. Some great beast of man. You are nothing, you do not impress me. Your ring talent is nothing outstanding, ring knowledge as bright as a third grader studying advanced algebra.)

Su tratamiento de mujeres repugna. Casi como repugnar como sus desempeños en el anillo. Y está debido a su tratamiento de mujeres que me abastecerán de combustible por esta semana. Usted ha hecho a todos hombres parecen terrible con sus decisiones. Usted ha hecho el deporte parece horrible.

(Your treatment of women is disgusting. Almost as disgusting as your performances in the ring. And it is due to your treatment of women that will fuel me for this week. You have made all men look terrible with your decisions. You have made the sport look horrid.)

Es hombres como usted que hace a personas odian su pa*s. Las personas de Polonia tienen un estereotipo uniforme. Ellos son sabidos para es estúpido, haciendo las decisiones estúpidas, y por eso yo le venceré. A causa de su exposición pequeña que usted pone demuestra ese estereotipo es correcto.

(It is men like you that make people hate your country. People from Poland have a standard stereotype. They are known for being stupid, making stupid decisions, and that is why I will overcome you. Because of your little show you put on proves that stereotype is correct.)

¿En cuanto a m*? Las personas mi piensa mi césped del corte de personas, pero tomamos el honor en el trabajo que hacemos, tomamos el honor en todas cosas que hacemos, a diferencia de usted Han. Usted tiene esta idea que usted es de algún modo mejores que yo porque crucé la frontera para empezar una vida nueva en este pa*s.

(As for me? People my think my people cut grass, but we take honor in the work we do, we take honor in all things we do, unlike you Hans. You have this idea that you are somehow better than me because I crossed the border to begin a new life in this country.)

¿Pero no es el mismo con usted, usted no cabalgó un barco, ni un avión para entrar a este gran pa*s? ¿Usted no es un inmigrante? ¿Nuestros antepasados de inmigrantees de América no son? Es hombres como usted que merece ser mutilados en un anillo.

(But is it not the same with you, did you not ride a boat, or an airplane to gain access to this great country? Are you not an immigrant? Are not our ancestors of America immigrants? It is men like you who deserve to be mutilated in a ring.)

Y a causa de hombres quiere que usted personas como m* existan en la Tierra. Existo para proporcionar un mejor mundo, un mundo libre de la ignorancia un mundo libre de la estupidez, un mundo libre de hombres como usted Han. Eso será mi meta esta semana demasiado Han para destruir una amenaza a este pa*s, este pa*s que honoro, este pa*s de libre que me ha mostrado un sentido más grande de vivir.

(And because of men like you people like me exist on the Earth. I exist to provide a better world, a world free of ignorance a world free of stupidity, a world free of men like you Hans. That will be my goal this week too Hans to destroy a threat to this country, this country which I honor, this country of free which has shown me a greater sense of living.)

América, una tierra de la grandeza, una tierra del libre. Y es a causa de esa libertad que seré capaz de patear su asno arriba y abajo ese anillo para una oportunidad para el oro. Usted ha deshonrado este pa*s también. Este pa*s le dio una oportunidad de competir en este deporte. ¿Le permitió este pa*s para encontrar el trabajo aqu*, y usted escupe en lo? ¿Usted escupe en esta gran nación que no ha hecho nada a usted?

(America, a land of greatness, a land of the free. And it is because of that freedom that I will be able to kick your ass up and down that ring for a chance for gold. You have disgraced this country as well. This country gave you an opportunity to compete in this sport. This country allowed you to find work here, and you spit on it? You spit on this great nation who has done nothing to you?)

Este pa*s, este pa*s de la libertad. ¿Quién ayudó su mean el pa*s pobre, y usted escupen en lo? D*game. ¿Por qué Han? ¿Por qué escupir en este pa*s que permite usted permanecer aqu*? Usted es ego*sta y será tratado con. Trataré con usted Han, yo le mostraré por qué usted no faltará al respeto México ni América. Usted es ignorante como el resto de su pa*s repugnante

(This country, this country of freedom. Who helped your piss poor country, and you spit on it? Tell me. Why Hans? Why spit on this country who is allowing you to stay here? You are selfish and will be dealt with. I will deal with you Han, I will show you why you shall not disrespect Mexico or America. You are ignorant just like the rest of your disgusting country.)

Usted ataca mi inteligencia. Yo no puedo ser capaz de hablar inglés tal como usted mismo. Yo no puedo ser un ejemplar anormal de esteroide como usted mismo Han, pero son técnicos. Tengo el potencial, el pensó el proceso y el conocimiento para cerciorarsele perderá.

(You attack my intelligence. I may not be able to speak English such as yourself. I may not be a steroid freak like yourself Han, but I am technician. I have the potential, the thought process and the knowledge to make sure you are going to lose.)

Es a causa de eso
(It is because of that…..)


(Excuse me.)
(Camera stays at the MGM slots.)


(El Gordo Grande returns eating a taco as he looks at the camera.)


Cuando dec*a. Es a causa de que pensó el proceso, que usted caerá a m* Han. Yo no temo la fuerza yo temo el talento. Algo usted no tiene, algo usted hace nunca tenido. La fuerza bruta no derrotará el talento completo.

(As I was saying. It is because of that thought process, that you will fall to me Hans. I do not fear strength I fear talent. Something you do not have, something you will never had. Brute strength will not defeat sheer talent.)

Usted puede ser el hombre más fuerte de mundo, pero usted no es el mundo mejor luchador. Usted ar no donde cerca de lo.

(You may be the world’s strongest man, but you are not the world’s best wrestler. You ar no where near it.)

A causa de su fracaso para darse cuenta de este hecho sencillo que moveré en por este torneo Han. Espere el inesperado.

(Because of your failure to realize this simple fact I will move on through this tournament Hans. Expect the unexpected.)


(El Gordo Grande drops another quarter and pulls the reel.7-7-7. He’s a winner. The machine starts to vomit quarters.)

¡AH MI DIOS! ¡Premio máximo!
Jackpot! OH MY GOD!!!


John Doe
02-14-06, 09:58 AM
¡Golpee el Choque del Choque del Choque Arriba!

02-15-06, 12:25 AM
::Fade In::

Bellmoth standing next to his limo talking to someone we don’t recognize…

Bellmoth: “First they put me up against some jumping bean who gets lucky with a roll up out of nowhere, despite me educating him throughout the entire match. Next I was up against some psycho who did not know anything about building an actual match, only a bunch of high spots that he happened to get lucky with, I mean really the people watching will never realize just how lucky this kid got with that twisty thing he did from the top rope on 5th street. And then they put me up against some moron that wouldn’t be able to find his way to the ring if they didn’t play music, I mean this guy learned wrestling from a tape he ordered on the internet… on beta, and again he gets lucky and outdraws me with some token jobber offense and pulls off the miracle win. Seriously you seem to be the first person to understand just how magnificent I am and just how lucky these cretins are getting, but tonight I will get my chance, after I win the Super Satellite match tonight the 9 Time World Series of Wrestling Champion will get the title shot he deserves!!! Thanks for listening my friend.”

::Pats the person on the shoulder and walks off::

::Another person, who appear to be a janitor walks up hands a broom and dust pan to the other guy and in subtitles on the tron we see him say…::

Janitor: “What are you doing you are supposed to be working.”

Other Janitor: “Some idiot kept talking to me I have no idea what he was saying. I will go sweep the bathroom now”

::Fade Out::

02-16-06, 01:17 AM
(FADEIN: HANS shutting bathroom door in his hotel suite, then charging cameraman. Crazy, yet tender look captive in his eyes.)

HANS: Fool. Singular language fool! In Poland we have no heroes. We have Gods. We have a God. ME, fool! HANS NOWAK! Above the law I am. I **** and the Earth of my peers rush to clean up. I take breath, and peasants exhale for the honor of sustaining my life. I have women curled around my balls like snake, hissing, and hungry to take Hans whole. What does El Gordo have? A fountain in front yard constructed in your image?

Hans pity the hellhole that hold you up as hero and throw pennies into fountain as some sort of prayer. The paupers come El Gordo, they come. Hans see it. Hans see video of paupers bowing to fountain and tossing coin off dirty thumbs hoping you grant wish, hoping you pin one more warrior to lift their dead spirits. Your people say no to self-respect if pig like you lifted to be champion.

Unlike you aliens, Gods dream.

My dream not to be immigrant. **** no. My dream to be KING…to be GOD of all creation not just Poland. With my strength, and fat dick, what land will not wilt and crumble before me?


No land.

This world is HANS’.

I have seen what you do in ring. No interest I have in dancing Grande. I am not Polish whore cartwheeling around pimp’s home. I am man. I am strong, proud, POLISH MAN…I could thumb wrestle you to death Grande. How dare the ignorant fool talk to me about knowledge. You train for years in sport….Hans…..days into career set to destroy Alien hero. Yes….Gordo…dance around me. Jump, Jive, Wail….Hans sit on stool in middle of ring…and when circus over…HANS ATTACK!

Tell me fool, how does Hans treat whore? 65% of men in this country…***** WHIPPED. 75% of men in YOUR country….banging sex slaves traded in from Russia because Mexican women rotted, and dry. Every woman, fool, wants to be controlled. Hunter/gatherer. You speak of my lack of knowledge…but here Hans is….explaining basic rule of male/female dichotomy.

You don’t know what woman want, fool. Miss Ann….dedication to HANS so strong that she lock herself in chicken wire cage and lay asleep on bedding until HANS wake her up. She miss verbal raping of Alien to submit to HANS will.

You will do same.

After HANS ATTACK….and fountain of Grande torn down back in alien world…..HANS sit you over knee in back….we have beer, and HANS show you how to **** woman.

HANS…the God….the warrior….THE BEAST…..educate and overthrow. You will be destroyed Grande….but HANS not rob you of chance at half-pound of gold without making you man.


John Doe
02-16-06, 08:08 AM
Brought to you in SAP


El Gordo Sitting at a all you an eat buffet. He eats a couple wings, a spoon full mac and cheese, he wipes his mouth as he looks at the camera.


Polonia no tiene héroe. Polonia tiene sólo Dios es un, Dios falso. Usted Han, son un Dios autoproclamado, un Dios en su propia imagen. Y un Dios falso no tiene los poderes, un Dios falso no es todo poderoso, usted es Han mortal, como m*. Cuando un mortal usted tiene los mismos rasgos que hago…usted puede ser roto.

(Poland has no hero’s. Poland has only God’s a, false God. You Hans, are a self-proclaimed God, a God in your own image. And a false God has no powers, a false God is not all powerful, you are mortal Hans, just like me. As a mortal you have the same traits I do…you can be broken.)

Yo no necesito mujeres a Han, yo no necesito a personas para venerarme. Busco una cosa a Han, yo buscando para una meta. Qué me se mantiene al ritmo de e ir es de un d*a para otro el t*tulo mundial Han, algo usted no tiene foco en. Usted ha perdido sus vistas en lo para que usted entró originalmente este negocio.

(I do not need women Hans, I do not need people to worship me. I look for one thing Hans, I searching for one goal. What keeps me up and going day by day is the World title Hans, something you have no focus on. You have lost your sights on what you originally entered this business for.)

Usted vino a competir para un t*tulo, para la gloria, y para auto honor. Usted parece ser envuelto alrededor del dir de este negocio, lo que hace esta ca*da del negocio. Conf*eme Han, yo hago no le permite hacer LVW se parece a tontos empleando a un alcahuete como un empleado. Honore para usted mismo y los otros son qué campeones de marcas. Y por eso usted falla a Han.

(You came to compete for a title, for glory, and self honor. You seem to be wrapped around the dir of this business, what makes this business fall. Trust me Hans, I will no allow you to make LVW look like fools by hiring a pimp as a employee. Honor for yourself and others is what makes champions. And that is why you fail Hans.)

Por eso usted fallará. Usted lo ha cegado en su propia semejanza, usted ha llenado los pulmones con los l*quidos de mujeres, ahora usted debe dar un paso en el anillo conmigo Han. Usted me puede ver como un empujón sobre. Permita que m* alentarle Han, la infravaloración es el número una razón para la derrota.

(That is why you will fail. You have blinded yourself in your own likeness, you have filled your lungs with the liquids of women, now you must step in ring with me Hans. You may see me as a push over. Let me reassure you Hans, underestimation is the number one reason for defeat.)

Las personas son a veces llevan a cree las cosas que no son verdad Han. Uno de esas cosas es los hechos usted estado de m* es ilegal. Tengo la ciudadan*a. Dije a un adversario pasado esto. He ganado mis derechos de estar en este pa*s. Como ciudadano jamás Americano que trabajo para llegar a ser duramente gran.

(People sometimes are lead to believe things that are not true Hans. One of those things are the facts you state of me being illegal. I have citizenship. I told a past opponent this. I have earned my rights to be in this country. Like ever American citizen I work hard to become great.)

Yo no puedo haber estado aqu* a largo, pero he o*do de algo ellos llaman un sueño Americano. Creo que sueño Americano es el t*tulo mundial. Y para m* ganar el dram Americano que debo pasar usted Han. Usted un hombre de ningún sueño, un hombre de nada. Apenas un hombre sencillo, con una meta sencilla.

(I may have not been here to long, but I have heard of something they call an American dream. I believe that American dream is the world title. And for me to win the American dram I must pass you Hans. You a man of no dream, a man of nothing. Just a simple man, with a simple goal.)

Su meta deberá explotar su trabajo para ganar sus propios bienes fuera de ello. Permita que m* digale Han, yo terminaré que esta semana. Usted piensa que usted es Han tan justos, usted cree que usted tiene razón. La mayor*a de las personas piensan esto, la mayor*a de las personas piensan a s* mismo como gran, y estas personas sufren en el fracaso repetidas veces.

(Your goal is to exploit your job to gain your own goods out of it. Let me tell you Hans, I will end that this week. You think you are so righteous Hans, you believe you are right. Most people think this, most people think themselves as great, and these people suffer in failure time after time.)

Yo no le quiero Han. Pienso que usted es repugnar de todo acerca de lo que lucha ha llegado a ser. Deseo mostrarle lo que lucha es sinceramente acerca de, deseo mostrarle fuerza no se requiere para la victoria general.

(I do not like you Hans. I think you are everything disgusting about what wrestling has become. I wish to show you what wrestling is truly about, I wish to show you strength is not required for overall victory.)

Usted puede ser un hombre que sabe del sexo, usted puede tener a mujeres que rodean usted. ¿Pero todav*a le agarrarán esas mujeres después que usted falla en su oportunidad para un t*tulo mundial? ¿Todav*a le rogarán esas mujeres una vez usted fue enseñado una lección en el anillo?

(You may be a man that knows of sex, you may have women surrounding you. But will those women still grasp you after you fail in your chance for a world title? Will those women still beg for you once you were taught a lesson in the ring?)

Usted no es nada más que un hombre con una cosa en su mente. Usted no es nada más que un hombre con ningunas metas. Que Han serán su deshaciendo. De ah* que yo le derrotaré Han. A causa de su falta del conocimiento del anillo, de m*, y de usted mismo.

(You are nothing more than a man with one thing on his mind. You are nothing more than a man with no goals. That Hans will be your undoing. This is why I will defeat you Hans. Because of your lack of knowledge of the ring, of me, and of yourself.)

El fracaso es su destino Han. El t*tulo es m*o.

(Failure is your destiny Hans. The title is mine.)



John Doe
02-16-06, 08:10 AM
¡Golpee el Choque del Choque del Choque Arriba!

02-16-06, 09:57 PM
FADE IN: To what seems to be a rather tumultuous situation indeed. At a smaller, privately-owned recording studio in Henderson that is occasionally leased to LVW for voice-over work on commercials and promo spots, MC LUSCIOUS BOOTY DIVA X paces nervously about the recording booth as a handful of rather agitated engineers and producers give her the evil eye. She is there to do some hype work with her man for the upcoming show, but the man in question, the so-called LIVING DEAD, is nowhere to be seen.

PRODUCER: "...well, you ARE the mouthpiece, right? I mean, maybe we should just get this thing, you do all the talking anyway, and he can just answer to the suits."

Diva shakes her head in disappointment.

DIVA: "Listen man, what you don't understand is that he's on his last strike... and I'm right there with 'em! If he goes,what are they gonna do with me?! I mean, I'm a rapper by trade, and a bad one at that! I'm Jewish for Christ's sakes! A white Jewish girl from Sheboygan trying to rap! If this thing falls through and they send him packin', what do you think they're gonna have left for me to do?!"

PRODUCER: "You can shake your ass and roll around the mat girl-on-girl style like all the other girls in your line."

DIVA: "Why don't you EAT ME, buddy?! You're only job here is to record my voice, so why don't you stop with the tough guy act?"

PRODUCER: "Well, it's a tough town, lady."

Suddenly the door flies open behind Diva and the Living Dead stumbles into the booth in full make-up and wrestling attire.

DIVA: "FINALLY! Where the hell have you been?!"

LIVING DEAD: "What's the difference?! Let's SHOOT THIS F#$%ER!!"

Snickering is heard in the production booth.

DIVA: "We're not filming anything, we're doing ADR for that bit that was SUPPOSED to run last weekend, remember?"

Un-fazed by the interrogation, the Living Dead licks his lips and steps in behind Diva.

LIVING DEAD: "Heh, did I ever tell you you've got an ASS like Carol Burnett at Thanksgiving Dinner?"

DIVA: "That doesn't even make sense... Have you been drinking?"

LIVING DEAD: "Drinking? You wanna drink, baby? How 'bout a li'l sip from the Living Dead's big BENDY STRAW o' Love?!"

The producer glances over at the Engineer.

PRODUCER: "Are you getting this?!"

ENGINEER: "You know it, baby!"

DIVA: "No, no, no! This isn't what we're here to do! Kill that mic this instant!"


Without warning, the Living Dead tosses Diva aside, then BOLTS out of the room with both hands clutching his backside. Diva and the production crew are left stunned.

DIVA: "So.... uhhh.... you guys know any acts looking for a back-up singer?"


02-17-06, 12:43 AM
(FADEIN: The camera buzzes to life as the red light switches from the far right one to the one in the center. 'The Hard Hitter' Ben Lerner is half propped on his desk, his hair slicked back and a smile plastered on his face. He holds a law dictionary in his hand as he continues to talk.)

LERNER: "So if you believe you've been a victim of sexual misconduct give me a call at 1-800-BIGG-BEN. That's 1-800-244-4896. If you refer a friend you get a special offer and a price cut for my services ... because people don't call me the 'Hard Hitter' for nothing!"

(The light on the camera goes off.)


(Lerner tosses the dictionary onto the table and gets to his feet. In one fluid motion he rips a comb from his back pocket, slicks his hair again, and places it right back in.)

LERNER: "Who the hell wrote "people don't call me the Hard Hitter for nothing?"

(A skinny guy walks into the shot.)

GUY: "I did."

LERNER: "Get the hell out of here, you're fired. INEPTITUDE. That's a legal cause for termination."

(Lerner turns and tightens his tie before he notices the LVW cameras still rolling. The expression on his face lightens as the whiteness of his teeth shine through his parted lips.)

LERNER: "Don't even get me STARTED on YOU! I'm going to sue LVW for breach of contract! Hell, I'm going to sue LVW for discrimination! Just because I'm a lawyer does not give you the right to disqualify me in my matches! That's what this was. PURE DISCRIMINATION. That's a prosecutable offense in this city, bub."

"And what is this match coming up?! I'm going to sue LVW for NEGLIGENCE. Putting a person of my stature in a match with four inexperienced nimwits?! You are KNOWINGLY putting me into damage. Las Vegas Wrestling is showing failure to exercise that degree of care which a person of ordinary prudence would exercise under the same circumstances. You don't see the big leagues throwing their best stars in the ring with some bums off the street! I'd like to take a look at their physicals... their contracts ... they shouldn't even be here!"

"All I was doing last week was trying to get the PROPER paperwork out of my briefcase for the Web Browser to read ... and next thing you know .. thanks to FAULTY WORKING CONDITIONS, I tripped over a crack in the floor and Web Browser broke my fall ... and I GET PUNISHED FOR YOUR NEGLIGENCE! This is insane! Do you people actually think that you're going to get away with this? YOU CHOSE THE WRONG DAY TO MESS WITH THE 'HARD HITTER!'

(Lerner turns to the metal briefcase and locks it shut. Picking it off the table he turns and starts to head towards the camera ... more likely heading to the door behind the camera.)

LERNER: "I'm going to bankrupt this ****hole. With the negligence, the hazardous workplace, and the harassment I get each and every day from you freaks following me ... I'm building my case ... Soon LVW will be HHW ... HARD HITTER's WRESTLING. This is going to be a hostile takeover... and it won't come cheap. After all, they don't call me the "Hard Hitter" for nothing!"

(Lerner stops in his tracks and a look of confusion comes across his face.)


(FADEOUT: As Lerner storms past the camera man and leaves the shot.)

02-21-06, 11:38 PM
Your RP here!

02-21-06, 11:39 PM
Your RP here!

02-21-06, 11:39 PM
Mike and I RP for no reason whatsoever!

02-21-06, 11:41 PM
Elvis Aaron Presley
El Gordo Grande
Jonathan Nash
Bill Bellmoth
Mitch Grey
Colt James, The Man In Black
Erik Mateo

Free for all RP, all HERE!

02-21-06, 11:42 PM
Olvir Arsvinnar v. Web Browser v. "Cowboy" James Donovan v. Hans Nowak


(Picture of belt forthcoming sometime... before the show gets posted. Maybe.) :eek:

02-25-06, 01:38 PM
Fade into the stage at the Mandalay Bay Casino, with the crowd full of LVW faithful fans, Jimmy Donovan marks and horny chicks. The arena is electric in anticipation as they wait for their advertised speaker to come out. Finally, "Bat Country" cues up over the house speakers, and "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan comes out in a ten gallon hat, jeans, boots and a t-shirt that says "Moonlight Bunny Ranch: Come Inside (our girls)." The crowd erupts.

JD: Yeeeeeeeeee-haaaaawwww! It's great to be here in front of all y'all, my biggest fans and all you purdy ladies!

At that point, a pair of panties comes flying up onto the stage at Jimmy's feet.

JD: Well, thankee miss! I'll be sure to enjoy these... now, fer all y'all who ain't in the know 'bout what happened at thar Prelude, when El-Magick-O done did some dastardly things to mah favorite call lady!

Boos at the mention of El-Magick-O's (the O is for orgasm) name.

JD: I know, I know, he's a dirty rat bastard an' all, but let's not focus on him now, I reckon. I gots a big title match fer all the marbles, and that dirty magic main ain't gon' be in it. But I do wanna make a dedication to Fabiola... I wanna dedicate this match in her memory, cuz... *sniff* she was the best dang blowjob I ever had... *sniff sniff*

This one's fer you, Fabiola!

Cheers at the dedication.

JD: Awright now, I gots a match to concentrate on, and dang it, when the prize is t'be the first ever LVW World's Heavyweight Champion, well then, I gotsta make sure that I'm all-in.

Pop from the poker nerds in the crowd.

JD: An' if you ain't had no doubts that I'm all-in, well, I done got me one of them fancy x-ray machines to take a look at mah shoulder, and there's some slight damage in thar. It hurt somethin' fierce. Hell, I even had trouble doin' it missionary cuz a' all the pressure I had t'put on mah shoulder t'prop mahself up. But am I gonna quit?

Crowd: No!

JD: Darn tootin' I ain't gonna quit! Not when I'm in here wit' them big an' strong guys like Olvir Arsvinnar and Hans Nowak. Nuh uh, them guys be huge. An' then thar's Web Browser, who I done faced before an' beat, but who's craftier than a fox in a henhouse, I done reckon.

First, we gots Olvir, the porn viking. Now, I hafta admit that I'm a huge Olvir fan. Yep, I gots all his stag movies an' I watch 'em whenever I gots the urge t'whack it an' I ain't got enough money t'go to the whorehouse. He makes some high quality por-nog-ro-phy. But I hope he knows that I ain't gonna be like them purdy and curvy porn stars he done does in his films. I ain't gonna lay back and take it up the pooper! In fact, I kinda like givin' it up the pooper on occasion. I'm a pitcher, I ain't no catcher!

Raucous cheers... they like their promos raunchy~!

JD: So Olvir, you may be able t'screw like a viking, but if you think yer gonna beat me in this Ironman match, then yer just berserk.

Next up in the line we gots Hans Nowak, the strongest guy in Pollack-land. Well, I guess that amounts to somethin', since there's lots of them thar muscleheaded dumbasses out thar. So while I might not be able t'outlift 'im, I'll definitely be able t'outsmart him. Cuz outsmartin' a Pollack is about as easy as takin' candy from a baby. Or virginity from a high school senior after a night a' hard drinkin'.

But I ain't in this fer things t'be easy. I wanna challenge. So maybe after this match, I'll be able t'seduce that older beauty Miss Ann. Cuz thar ain't no way Hans'll be able t'satisfy her, between gettin' his ass kicked in by Cowboy Jimmy an' havin' all them roids shrink his sac!

Wild cheers.

JD: An' finally, we gots that thar Web Browser. Now, I know I might notta beat 'im the most fair way th' last time we met, but you gotsta admit this is a dog-eat-dog bidness. Believe me, if you had a hot appointment wit' Swedish twins after that thar match, you'd do anything you'd need t'win t'get that winner's share of the pot.

But he also done needed t'be taught a lesson by not lettin' me in on that sweet, sweet Brazilian poontang. An' I hope you done learnt that lesson. But now ain't the time t'be worryin' about that now. Now's the time t'be worryin' 'bout the gold.

And he ain't got no chance of outlastin' me at Supershow on the Strip. Ain't none of them do. Cuz while they might be good 'rasslers, they can't go all night long in an Ironman match.

'Cuz I have been proven t'go all night long. Just ask the folks over at the Bunny Ranch or Pahrump. I spent whole nights there, an' I lasted til' the early morn'. Ain't none of the competition can say that.

Cuz I'm all about lastin' all ... night... long!

The crowd roars again, and hotel room keys fly on stage as the scene fades to the LVW logo.

02-25-06, 01:40 PM

02-28-06, 02:52 PM
(Fadein, Nine in the morning at a secluded, but empty bar in downtown Vegas. It being early in the morning, business is slow, but steady...mostly those who come in, come in to read the paper, watch the local news, chat about the ol' days or just have coffee. Some with Bailey's in it, but nonetheless, a way to start the day.)

Bartender: Hey...who needs ah bee-ah??

(An older gentlemen, down on the end of the bar, coughs abit and struggles to clear his throat, speaks but his voice, still abit scraggly.)

OLD MAN: Shoot, kid back in my day...we-uh...we used to drink one first thing to get rid of the taste in our mouth...

(Another older gentleman next to him chimes in before the first can finish....)

OLD MAN #2: From all that drinkin' eh Vern? hehe..

(The first Older Gentleman looks up, bewildered before smacking the other one on the back of the head.)

VERN: No you PUTZ, the bad taste in the mouth was from too much p--

(The Bartender reaches over to interrupt the two...)

B: Ah know you's two ain't tryin' to become tha first idiots of tha mornin' right?? Ah mean...c'mon....I gots nine mo'ah hou-was here wit'cha losah' before Ah'm fittin' ta get outta this place an' start preparin' for that otha' job ah got in tha' otha' side o' town.

VERN: Innit dat' "Ultimate Fightin'" club o' sumpin'??

B: Vern...

V: Yeah, Erik...

EM: Shaddup for a second, will ya's? Lord knows ya comes' in here an' the bidness is good....but lemme speak fo' a second first, yeah??

V: Dirty lil'...

EM (Lookin' up at Vern): An' Ah'm tha' best at it, Vern.

V: Could be...but word on the street is that you're a sissy-ass b*tch...

(Mateo looks over at the owner for a second, who just shakes his head behind a copy of "The Times" and makes a slashin' motion across his throat)

EM: Vern...don'tcha think it's time fo' ya ta go home yet?? You're wife's not right...but ya can't stay here. (Mateo leans in for a second, pushing forward a flyer for LVW..) Ah'm ah-ready in fo' a prize in mah first bout, how 'bout that??

Vern (putting on his glasses):Jonathan Nash....Mitch Grey....Bill Bellmoth....Colt James....wait a second...I don' remember Elvis havin' another kid...what kinda crap is that??

(The second older Gentleman leans in front...)

Frank...get outta my way...

FRANK: ....And a big FAT GUY?? Jess' what kinda sh*t are you gettin' into??

EM: Ah'm lookin' tah get paid fo' beatin' up some punks, an' tha boss has a pretty good prize fo' the winner.

V: Sounds like you're gon' git'cher butt kicked to me...

(Mateo looks over at Frank, who shakes his head.)

F: If you're wife was as a lilly-crazed as she is, you might be bitter too, Erik, you might be bitter too...

EM: Hmm. Strangely enough...you gotta point. Now you wanna get him outta here or should Ah??

F: Shoot, 'cher on you're own, kid...

(Frank gets off the bar stool, leavin'.)

EM (sighs): Boy don' ah know it.


02-28-06, 02:55 PM
Bump it...just bump it up!

02-28-06, 09:29 PM
We open to a Las Vegas airport. The lobby isn’t as busy as it would be mid-day, plus the darkness through the windows tips us off it’s quite late at night. The camera comes to rest on a line of unoccupied seats as we wonder just why the camera has decided to stop there. Suddenly, something rustles under the seats and we notice that the Web Browser is unrolling himself from his raggedy blanket. He then pulls himself up as he piers into the camera.

WB: They may call New York the city that never sleeps, but this damn town only takes a few naps a week. A man can’t even get a decent rest with all these tourists and businesspeople coming out to see this Godforsaken place.

But that’s something I’ve grown to expect out of this pathetic slobs.

They’re much like the wrestling fans that come each week to enjoy some two-bit action like the dismal talent that is Las Vegas Wrestling.

Mitch Grey came out last week and told me just how much he wanted to defeat me for his shot at what everyone has proclaimed to be their ultimate goal here in this federation, and now, look where he’s ended up.

I hope that my win over Mitch Grey last week sends him on the same downward spiral that I’ve already been through.

I hope that the pain and agony of being poor and the victim of a capitalistic society comes to meet him all too soon.

Because while Mitch Grey thought that he and I were very much the same, we could not have been more different.

Mitch Grey has never felt what I’ve felt. He’s never seen what I’ve seen.

He claims that his life in professional wrestling has taught him a lot, but what it has not taught him is anything about real life.

You see, the only thing that Mitch Grey knows about suffering is something like not having some worthless title that others covet ever so dearly so that they might be able to say that they are better than some twenty other no-talent assholes.

Mitch Grey’s only struggles have come from paid weeks off, not months of uncleanliness and starvation.

Call it maniacal, but I want to see how Mitch Grey would handle something like that. I want him to know just what it’s like to be like The Web Browser.

Maybe then he’ll think twice before he tries to compare himself with someone he is not even close to.

Browser’s eye can almost be seen twitching as he thinks about the pain he wishes upon his former opponent.

WB: But time moves on, and so does the “wonderful” world of wrestling.

It would seem as though I have fallen ass-backwards into a match that I’ve stated from the beginning that I have no interest in.

I’ve stated time and again how I am in this company to get some food and live with no desire whatsoever to be involved in any type of title matches.

Yet, here I stand, sixty minutes away from the most over-hyped artifact the world has come to know… a wrestling championship belt.

Some have questioned my desire by wondering how titles mean nothing to me. But in the end, it’s only more weight to bog down my Wal-Mart bag as I go to collect my check.

I figure, the check stays the same, so why not the baggage?

The good thing about being in this match though…

Browser’s face fills with a diabolical smile.

WB: Is that I get to come face to face with that blaspheming son of a *****, Jimmy Donovan.

I said I wanted you again, Jimmy, but you ran.

You hid behind your tournaments and your whores and refused to give me the rematch that I wanted so dearly.

Had I known winning all those matches would have gotten me back to getting my hands on you, I probably would have put forth more effort. Yet, I’m still here regardless, and the day is mine.

You are someone who abuses the only thing I love in my life, Donovan.

You take the broadband connections, and you use them for nothing but evil as the CPU begs for something intelligent to actually display on the monitor.

Yet the only thing that hits the monitor other than naked women is your semen, which disgusts me even more.

Your war against advancing technology and becoming another of the stupid slugs who bog down the net has now become my battle.

I plan to step foot between those ropes this week to not win some meaningless title, but to wipe the canvas and technology everywhere free of your filth spreading mind.

I said I fell ass-backwards into this match because I’m not a wrestler and probably never will be.

This week will be no exception. Because I plan not to wrestle you, Donovan.

I plan on beating the ever-loving **** out of you and ridding the world of your horrid morals.

Browser turns and heads off screen as the camera pans down to his messy blanket before fading out.

03-02-06, 09:38 PM
(FADEIN: Hans Nowak and Miss ANN Sadowski bathing in their Hotel Spa.)

MISS ANN: Hans, Hans my lover and champion of girth…tell Mistress how it feel to be so close to being champion again. How close to being anointed stud and ruler of Las Vegas.

HANS NOWAK: SILENCE WOMAN! You do not own me. You do not tell HANS when to speak, come, sit, or fist ****.

MISS ANN: Yes master. (Ann bows.) But, just tell me one…

HANS NOWAK: NO! Hans tired of telling story. Hans tired of remembering last championship, last bout of glory that raise all of Poland up for God to see himself, and realize he do one thing right in creation. He make country that birthed HANS! Miss Annie… (MISS ANN: Yes, daddy…) Do you remember scrapbook I show you of 2002 Antarctic Strongest Man competition. (MISS ANN: Yes my ox, yes…) Do you remember pictures of HANS LIFTING GLACIERS OVER HEAD, AND TOSSING THEM INTO SEA! DO YOU REMEMBER HANS THREATENING TO RAISE WORLD SEA LEVELS IF CHAMPIONSHIP WASN’T AWARDED RIGHT THEN!

MISS ANN: (Madly aroused) YES MY LOVER!


MISS ANN: (Past the point of no return) TAKE ME NOW YOU BIG DICKED OX! TAKE ME AND LET’S FORGET ABOUT IT ALL. WORLD DOMINATION. VEGAS. THE SHAME, AND SINFUL GLORY….Let’s leave it behind…let me cage you Beast, let me cage you so that you might reward me with small pleasures and GIANT orgasm. But, no..it would be a sin to cage my Hans. To deny world fair ruler, and Vegas…it’s true Master. But…I can’t bare to see you…



HANS NOWAK: Then you know why Hans must call for end of competition today. Why Hans must warn Viking, homeless ****, and the bareback Cowboy who hides his shame of loving men….then you know I must warn these small creatures that if HANS ATTACK! they will have nothing……they will be but ruins of a time when Americans lived without Polish Grace!

MISS ANN: I do know. I do! But, Hans…Daddy…they are slime, and do not DESERVE the mercy you would extend. Hans if we want it all, we must make EXAMPLES of their stunted growth and arrogance!

HANS NOWAK: (pondering) Yes. Perhaps woman you are right. Perhaps if they too dumb to see that when HANS ATTACK! shame is tossed around like cigar. No, Miss Annie, you are right. HANS will CRUSH pussies, making Vegas his. HANS will drag Donovan out of closet and give him real ride. HANS will rip Viking’s dick off, putting balls in plastic bag of flour, salt, and water to marinate until he’s ready to use them as a man should use his nuts….then HANS take camera…and whores…and make POLISH FILM! Hans **** all of Olvir and Cowboy’s women….giving Dirty Sanchez with LVW Belt! hahahahah

MISS ANN: You are THE IRONMAN MY OX! Teach these fools how to last all night. Teach them…

HANS NOWAK: I will shame them, for they need to be shamed Miss Annie. Vegas is ours, and we shall bath in all its spoils. For sixty minutes HANS ATTACK! It will be the hour that makes each of them a man.

MISS ANN: (barks like a dog)


03-05-06, 01:49 AM
( The viewing area atop the Stratosphere Hotel overlooking the entire Las Vegas Strip. The sky is a mixture of orange, yellow and blue as the sun falls through the clouds. The lights sparkle below and get brighter as the minutes fade away. Johnny Doll is looking across the horizon. He turns back toward the camera. )

Doll: " I'm falling in love with Las Vegas every minute of the day that I am here. I'm falling in love with the fans. They have gone above and beyond what they need to to make LVW successful. And it only gets better and better as each show comes up. "

(Doll walks around the circular area with the camera crew following close behind )

Doll: " Ya know what I don't like? All of this crap that Ben Lerner has brought to the table. Where I once thought he had talent in the wrestling ring. He hasn't shown it. He trips over himself...the fans saw every bit of it. Ben Lerner...the so-called Hard Hitter... You aren't showing me anything but a whiny baby... an antagonist that is still holding to what the world can give you. I have worked hard in the last month to get to where I am at this very second. I earned my title shot. Although I admit that it was a little opportunistic... it's all part of the business. I was in the right place at the right time. You weren't even in the ring earning the right to be a part of LVW history."

(Johnny looks over the side of the hotel and down to the ground . Taxis and buses are moving around below dropping off perspective casino patrons for their nightly chance to meet lady luck. Johnny walks toward a bench and sits down. )

Doll: (sfx: sighs) " Ben, although you don't deserve anything inside the LVW ring. I'm not backing down from this match. I have already signed the contract. I even dropped off medical records from my doctors. Blood and urine tests for drugs, steroids and any STD imaginable. I'm all clean. I even gave copies of my academic records. A's and B's all four years. You aren't getting any upper hand. This will be a fair fight. If and when I beat you... You won't have a leg to stand on. I got all the bases covered. The fans deserve to see a fair match. They deserve to be given a great show for their money. "

( Doll gets up and is met by a few young wrestling fans. He signs autographs with them and takes a couple of pictures. As the kids move on, Johnny walks back inside toward the gift shop but stops before he walks inside. )

Doll: " Lerner... You make me sick. You have nothing to offer this wresting organization other than litigation and courtroom battles if you don't get your way. You are so sue happy! It's pathetic that you won't let your wrestling talent speak for itself. Or maybe it's that you have.. and all you are able to do to stay near the top of the ladder is to intimidate the company into letting you stay around. Negligence...Breach of Contract... Faulty Working Conditions... Referee Malpractice... You have got to be kidding me. You dug deep into your bag of tricks for that one. You show the world a doctored tape when we all saw the truth. You tripped over your own two feet. You couldn't stand knowing that you lost to someone who you felt was inferior to you. When he was ten times better than you. And then you wouldn't dare step into a ring with Bellmoth, Nash, Living Dead and myself. You knew beyond a reasonable shadow of doubt that you couldn't make the match work. So, you spewed vile threats to get your way. In this generation where all you have to do is sue someone if you can't get what you want by an honest days work... that's exactly what you did. Ben, you sued your mom because she wanted to have more children and you wanted to reap the benefits of being an only child. You sued your dad because he wouldn't give you the keys and let you take the family car out for a date. So, you took the car. You sued the doctor that delivered you because he didn't let the nurse slap you on the behind instead of him. And you sued the hospital because your delivery conditions were deplorable and your heater was too hot. After I saw this...I was just shocked that you had a lawyer in your first week of birth. Get a grip, dude. Get into the ring and show me an actual wrestler and not some ambulance chaser. Because, it's going to take 100% of you to beat me. You won't intimidate me. And as the fans as my witness...my jury...and as your executioner... I will go on to take the rightful spot that I earned as the #1 contender to the LVW World Title. And I set out to do exactly what I said I was going to. I will be the LVW World Heavyweight Champion!! Case Closed. "

(Johnny turns and walks into the gift shop as the video fades out. )

03-06-06, 02:48 PM
The Man in Black is seen resting on the ring ropes in an empty gym. He is covered in sweat from his workout. His trainer walks off as Colt drinks from a bottle of Gatorade. He reaches down over the ropes and grabs a can of chew from his gear bag. He takes a large pinch another swallow of Gatorade and then looks at the camera.

So here I am debuting in LVW. Here I am facing a bunch of no names and wanna be's. Here I am ready to make my splash in professional wrestling.

See I ain't used to all this attention. I'm used to being out in the wide open on my horse with just the cattle and nature as friends. All these lights and attention. Well it makes me a little uncomfertable.

That's ok though. It ain't like I don't know how to fight. I grew up fighting all kinds of men and critters.

So I look around here at the competition and I'm not really all that impressed.

Ya see I don't see nobody that scares me much.

I don't see nobody that can whup me that's for sure.

I don't think I'm gonna have much of a problem here.

Now I'm sure ya'all think you are just gonna walk all over the new guys. I'm sure you all think that I won't be much of a problem. I'm sure that you all want and need this win as badly as I do.

Here's the differance though boys. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win this match. I'm willing to bleed, I'm willing to draw blood, I'm willing to cheat, I'm willing to take all you have...smile in your faces and spit chaw right between your eyes to mark the spot I'm gonna nail you with these trail hardened fists.

This ain't no game to me. This is about finishing the ride boys and let me tell you something...

this Cowboy don't ever get thrown.

Step up boys...it's time to gitterdone.

Colt steps through the ropes, grags his black Stetson and gear bag and walks towards the locker rooms.

John Doe
03-06-06, 06:46 PM
Brought to you in SAP


Mexican flag backdrop. EL Gordo Grande where a "Pride of Mexico" shirt. he looks at the camera.

Por todo, yo nunca puedo decir que fallé sinceramente. Mire donde he terminado, miro donde empecé. Usted verá sólo una cosa. Progreso. México, mi patria, mi pa*s, mi orgullo. Me llena con el combustible que necesito luchar más duro, para luchar más grande, y para derrotar. Cuándo yo veo esa bandera que eleva en la multitud mis golpes de corazón más duros, yo levanto el puño en el aire las quemaduras del fuego con en m*

(Through it all, I can never say I truly failed. Look at where I have ended, look at where I began. You shall see only one thing. Progress. Mexico, my homeland, my country, my pride. It fills me with the fuel I need to fight harder, to fight greater, and to defeat. When I see that flag soaring in the crowd my heart beats harder, I raise my fist in the air the fire burns with in me.)

Ese fuego es un instrumento peligroso. Ese fuego me maneja de un d*a para otro, y me maneja para continuar luchar. Ese fuego es lo que me tomará al fin, para ganar este campeonato. No sólo que me ayudará honoro a mis adversaries.

(That fire is a dangerous tool. That fire drives me day by day, and it drives me to continue to fight. That fire is what will take me to the end, to win this championship. Not only that it will help me honor my opponents.)

Los hombres que han encontrado a s* mismo en el anillo conmigo, se prepara para la batalla, los es que verán lo que puedo realizar. Ca* contra Han, yo fui robado, fui estafado, más que nada yo perd*. Esa pérdida es algo yo debo vivir con para siempre, es una cicatriz en el corazón. Promet* la victoria de ventiladores, por Dios que yo los daré esa victoria. En esto retumba

(The men that have found themselves in the ring with me, ready for battle, it is them who shall see what I can perform. I fell against Hans, I was robbed, cheated, most of all I lost. That loss is something I must live with forever, it is a scar on my heart. I promised the fans victory, through God I shall give them that victory. At this rumble.)

Yo no soy apenas algún mexicano gordo en una máscara, yo tengo el talento, ese talento se ha expuesto la semana después de la semana, d*a tras d*a. Y ese talento me maneja para competir. Ninguna pelea va con fuera la oposición.

(I am not just some fat Mexican in a mask, I have talent, that talent has been exposed week after week, day after day. And that talent drives me to compete. No fight goes with out opposition.)

Usted Erik, usted no honora a sus adversarios. Para entender a su adversario, para ser capaz de derrotar a su adversario, usted lo debe honorar, usted debe honorar lo que él lucha para. Con fuera el honor no hay victoria. Con fuera el honor no hay campeonato. El honor es algo usted no tiene al corazón, y será la razón que usted falla directamente donde usted empezó

(You Erik, you do not honor your opponents. To understand your opponent, to be able to defeat your opponent, you must honor him, you must honor what he fights for. With out honor there is no victory. With out honor there is no championship. Honor is something you do not hold to your heart, and it will be the reason you fail directly where you started.)

Cuando yo le respeto Erik, yo pido lo mismo. Si usted no puede proporcionar el mismo respeto, bien entonces Erik que mostraré usted por qué respetar a un hombre tal como yo mismo. Lucho para yo mismo, para los ventiladores, para el gran pa*s de México. Que verde, blanco y rojo que moscas orgullosamente en el aire, son para que lucho. Es para que señala sangro, soy para los ventiladores que sufro, y su para yo mismo que gano.

(As I respect you Erik, I ask for the same. If you can not provide the same respect, well then Erik I will show you why to respect a man such as myself. I fight for myself, for the fans, for the great country of Mexico. That green, white and red that flies proudly in the air, it is for that I fight. It is for that flag I bleed, it is for the fans I suffer, and its for myself that I win.)

Yo me aprieto para preparar de un d*a para otro para la victoria. Una victoria que llega a ser más vac*a como miro la oposición, un hombre que nos llama nadie. Un hombre que tiene ni tenido es el nombre impreso en el papel de LVW. Mas nosotros nos paramos nadie comparó a este gran.

(I press myself day by day in order to prepare for victory. A victory that is becoming more clear as I look at the opposition, a man who calls us nobodies. A man who hasn’t even had is name printed on LVW paper. Yet we stand nobodies compared to this great.)

Escúcheme Hombre en negro. Usted ha deshonrado este igual colocándolo encima de nosotros, usted ha faltado al respeto nuestras habilidades. Estos son las cosas que no se pueden mirar pasado, éstos son los problemas que se deben tratar con. Empezar con usted.

(Listen to me Man in black. You have disgraced this match by placing yourself above us, you have disrespected our abilities. These are things that can not be looked past, these are problems that must be dealt with. Starting with you.)

Usted será enseñado por qué usted no es mejor, por qué usted fallará, y por qué yo ganaré. Tengo la inspiración para ganar, el deseo para la victoria. Usted se esfuerza para nada. Usted lo pone un soporte grande que proclama la grandeza. Usted tiene no mostrado m* que usted es gran.

(You shall be taught why you are no better, why you shall fail, and why I shall win. I have the inspiration to win, the desire for victory. You strive for nothing. You put yourself on a grand stand proclaiming greatness. You have no shown me that you are great.)

Usted tiene no probado su valor. Usted será mostrado para cómo respetar los otros, usted será enseñado a respetar la compañ*a. Apenas como Erick Matteo, usted será derrotado. Y no fuera del odio, no fuera de la cólera, es fuera de completo hace, agracia, y la competencia que derroto usted.

(You have not proven your worth. You shall be shown how to respect others, you will be taught to respect the company. Just like Erick Matteo, you will be defeated. And not out of hatred, not out of anger, it is out of sheer will, grace, and competition that I defeat you.)

Y si deberé fallar, bien entonces que gane el mejor.

(And if I am to fail, well then may the best man win.)

VIVA LAS VEGAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Mad Dog
03-07-06, 01:09 AM
(FADEIN to “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito and Jimmy Two Times discussing match strategy for Supershow On The Strip I.)

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Carmine, you’ve been in the ring with Living Dead before, so you know how he operates - operates. You’ve gotta stick and move - stick and move.

CARMINE ESPOSITO: Jimmy, you act like I’m not a professional or something. I’ve been doing this for ten years before I landed a gig in LVW. Don’t talk to me about match strategy until you’ve actually stepped into the ring.

TWO TIMES: (Shaking his head.) Why do I have to repeatedly remind you – remind you? Until you pay off your debt…I own you – own you! You wanna talk to me like we’re equals – equals? You f(BLEEP)in’ get in the ring and you bring me back a championship – championship! (Pauses)

(Carmine tries to speak up.)

TWO TIMES: Oh…that’s right – that’s right. You didn’t even f(BLEEP)in’ qualify to even be in the tournament – tournament. You’re scum – scum. Don’t even get me started on the loot you lost to Nowak – Nowak! We owe that freak a receipt – receipt.

CARMINE: Jimmy…what the f(BLEEP) happened? We were tight, we were boys, and now you treat me with no respect whatsoever. Is it because I lost a few games of Baccarat? This is ridiculous.

(Carmine lowers his head and takes a deep breath.)

CARMINE: Jimmy, I understand your frustration with me. I know that you’ve been patient through this rough patch I have in my life. (Nods.) But if I recall, some of these problems…weren’t my fault.

(Jimmy Two Times looks stunned.)

CARMINE: I’m not stupid. I have ears on the street too. But I’m not gonna point any fingers…’cuz that’s not helping the situation. (Shakes his head.) You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna go out there to the Supershow on the Strip and I’m gonna use it as a platform to elevate the Esposito name to legendary status…and in the process climb one step closer to the World title in the rankings.

TWO TIMES: Carmine, I’ve had big problems from the fellas back in Brooklyn since that ladder match – ladder match. I’m under a tremendous amount of pressure to make right with that cluster**** of a match – match. Uncle Gino gave me time, but every day that passes is more interests I’m collecting along the way – the way. I’ll try to lay off you a bit, but we’ve gotta make sure we make an impact in LVW and bring back prestige to the Russo Family back East.

CARMINE: I understand paison. I promise you this…at Supershow on the Strip…you won’t be hearing much about Living Dead after I finish the job that some finocchio f(BLEEP)ed up a long time ago. See Living Dead...my people NEVER mess up when it comes to clippin’ a recchione, like yourself. If it was me, you’d be pushin’ up tulips right next to Hoffa!

TWO TIMES: Living Dead looks a lot like Guido the Hut from Hell’s Kitchen – Kitchen. I thought Mikey Gumdrops whacked that guy a long time ago – time ago. Do you think Mikey botched the job – the job? (Looks concerned.) I better call him – call him. (Flips open his phone to dial.)

CARMINE: No way…it couldn’t be. Guido was a lot bigger and didn’t have that limp.

TWO TIMES: True, but you gotta look at the facial resemblance – resemblance.

CARMINE: It’s uncanny.

TWO TIMES: I better call him up – him up.


03-07-06, 02:47 AM
"Ohhhh....I don' did it nah...'"
(Fadein, Erik Mateo poking his head in from the left side of an LVW-Casino-styled Backdrop, and looks at it a second before facing the camera.)
EM: I sign a piece o' paper that says Ah can get some moneh for beatin' people up....jus' happen ta' be in tha' raht spot at tha' raht time...

An' now I don' hit May-hico's nerve.


El Grande Tostada...Burrito...Ah can care less 'bout who ya are or 'bout tha' fact that Ah got respect from May-hico even if Ah've never been close to El Paso...

But tha' fact is that ya can be from May-hico...but we ain't fightin' in May-hico are we??

We're gon' do this in a place richer than...than...well hell Ah can't think of it raht now...but Ah'm sure Ah will later...fact is boy...

We in 'Vegas, son...an' ain't nothin' like a fight...'specially in 'Vegas.

An Ah'm ah-ways up fo' ah good fight.

Or didja lose track of why ya even get tah be here??

This ain't about who ya respect or who honors who.

Which I don' even know ya to begin with so respect an' honor was never there in the firs' place.....

It's about me gettin' some cash for beatin' someone up.

Somewhere, I'm sure I got a trademark infraction...I'm not sure where...but that ain't important at the moment either.

That prize is jus' a bonus...but hey May-hico...you wan' it...you gon' hav'ta do betteh' than you've don' in tha' past to get it.

As for that Tonto-kid...hey...he kinda has the same view 'bout this as ah do.

So who can argue wit' that??

Tha' rest o' tha' boys wanna shaddup an' take what's comin' to them...that's a'raht with me.

Nah'...if ya don' mind...Ah'm ah get me a bee-ah.


03-08-06, 02:10 AM
OOC: I WHOLE-HEARTEDLY apologize for leaving this last minute, everybody. I hope this will somehow be worth it...

*******, am I tired...

(Cue the music, a crazy throwback to 70's porno with an adventuristic sea-faring feel. We open up on a simple road in downtown Las Vegas. A yellow cab approaches and parks itself at the curb. The back door swings open, and out steps a well-polished dress shoe.)



(The camera pans up, and Erik Black, one of LVW's leading talent representatives, looking sharp in a three-piece black suit and sunglasses, steps out onto the curb. The image of gates appears in the reflection of his shades.)



(Black turns to the passenger side window, to the driver.)

Erik Black
Be back in a minute...

(He turns around and the camera pivots over his shoulder, where we see two large gates, opened for vehicles, with a security booth seperating them. The sign above reads "VALHALLA STUDIOS: LAS VEGAS." Straigthening his tie, Black enters, flashing his ID by the rent-a-cop flipping through a tits mag in his confined booth.)


(We cut immediately to the man of the hour, Olvir Arsvinnar, in all of his masculine glory, moving about on one of the lot's sound stages, barking into a megaphone as he proudly strides around miscellaneous film props and camera and lighting equipment. It seems like he's taking his first attempt at directing.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Vile peasants! Hasten your efforts! Supershow on the Strip is upon us in a mere matter of days! My hour of absolute victory is at hand, and we must be fully prepared for the festivities!

(He's approached by one of the fine voluptuous pornstars, carrying with her two pairs of latex pants, one red and the other blue.)

Olvir, do you think the blue makes me look fat? I think the red makes me look trampy.

(Olvir rips the pants from her hands and tears them to shreds.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Wench! You forget the first rule of dominating the hind! Leggings only PREVENT entry! Find yourself a frock that I may find entry with ease!

(Olvir moves on, this time stopped by the director, a balding, sleazy Italian with copper skin and a crappy Hawaiian shirt. He's holding the script.)

Olvir, babe... don't you think we're overdoing it on dialogue here?

(Olvir takes the script and rips it into two halves, like a phonebook.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
I agree! The Great Olvir needs not be given any lines! The Great Olvir is an ARTIST!! He only performs NATURALLY, which is to say he follows no instructions but his own!

(The Viking marches on, coming to a ply table covered with donuts and Mountain Dew. An obese crew member with a cup of coffee stands on the other side.)

Crew Member
Hey Mr. Arsvinnar... did you want jelly filled or chocolate?

(In the blink of an eye, Olvir THROWS the table over the fat man, sending pounds upon pounds of pastries and sodas spilling over the floor!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Small-minded buffoon! The Great Olvir demanded the leg of a felled beast and MEAD! Do not poison me with your fatty substinence!

(Olvir marches on, donning his bullhorn.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
You men! You call yourselves strong?! Lift those lights! In my time, you would have been given to the DOGS for their pleasures!

(The camera crabs right, briefly catching an image of something in the background, slightly hidden behind a curtain. It looks wooden, carved in the formation of a dragon's head...)

(Olvir quickly catches what the camera is doing, and pulls the curtain the rest of the way to hide whatever is being worked on in the closed off section of the set. We can hear hammering and power tools.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Not now, fool... that is my surprise for the show!

(At this point, Erik Black enters the frame, greets Olvir with a smile. Arsvinnar's face lightens up comically.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Erik the Light-Loined!

Erik Black
Oh ****, wait, Olv--

(Unable to escape, Black is grasped into Olvir's mighty bearhug, his face BUIRED into the Viking's chiseled pectoral! Like a trapped animal, he scrambles to escape!)

Olvir Arsvinnar

Erik Black
Mnph Nphff mmf MMNPHFF!!

(Olvir releases the smaller man, who backs off gasping for air, hair ruined and clothes out of shape.)

Erik Black
Seriously, Olvir, a simple handshake wouldn't hurt...

Olvir Arsvinnar
Nonsense! I will greet a fellow man as a TRUE man should! Revel in our brotherly comradery!

Erik Black
Well, Olvir, all I'm saying is...

(Like lightning, Olvir's arm shoots out and takes Black by the back of the head. Erik's eyes go wide as he is SMASHED back into Olvir's chest!)

Olvir Asrvinnar
Revel... REVEL!! HA HA HA HA!!

(Erik desperately flails about like a dog with its head trapped in the electric window of a car, until he finally breaks free.)

Erik Black
Sheesh, Olvir...

Olvir Arsvinnar
But enough nonsense, Erik the Black... why have you come today? Have you come to witness my preparations for my imminent victory at the Supershow on the Strip?

Erik Black
Well, Olvir, I don't know quite how to break this to you. I got promoted yesterday. You're looking at LVW's new talent scout.

Olvir Arsvinnar
A scout?

Erik Black
Hm, how could I explain it to you...

I'm like you, a Viking... only instead of getting into a ship and sailing across the seas to different lands, I get into a plane--one of those "magical flying chariots," as you call them--and sail to different cities.

Olvir Arsvinnar
I see. And you would proceed to rape and pillage these towns? A fine sport!!

Erik Black
Well, in a sense, yeah... I'm raping and pillaging these cities of their talent. You see, Olvir, you've become such a commodity in Las Vegas Wrestling, they're sending ME out there to find somebody good enough to beat you!

Olvir Arsvinnar
Beat me? HA HA HA HA!!

Erik Black
Yeah, my plane leaves here in a few hours. I just stopped by to remind you to cut a promo before the show. The execs are pretty picky about that... but you gotta know, the fans want to see you. They LOVE you.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Of course they do! I've only fought twice, and already they see me as the greatest warrior in the federation! How can I NOT be worthy of that World Title, I ask you?

I have been meaning to cut one of these "promos" you speak of... but you must understand, I've been very busy in recent days.

Erik Black
What is all this, anyhow?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Merely a sample of what awaits at Supershow on the Strip!

Erik Black
What are you talking about?

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA!! You'll see!

(And just to give you an idea on the big secret, even I don't know what Olvir has planned, and I'm the guy writing him!)

Erik Black
Well, Olvir... I guess it will be a while before I see you again. Good luck at the show.

Olvir Arsvinnar
And I wish the best of luck to you as well, Erik the Black! You seek a man worthy of knocking me from the top of the mountain! If that is your quest, then I wish you all the luck in the world, because it is a quest you may never succeed in! I am the strongest in the world, and at Supershow on the Strip, I shall PROVE it for once and for all! HA HA HA HA!!

Erik Black
Right. Well, take care... and keep your nose clean!

(With a polite nod and smile, Erik turns and walks out of frame. Olvir, meanwhile, left to wonder about this last comment, runs a finger down his nose and sniffs it.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Hmm... the stench of last night's wenches is still profound. Perhaps I will give this nose a good washing as my friend suggests.

(Olvir turns directly to the camera, cross his arms over his chest, wears the most CONFIDENT of smiles.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
So you have come to see me... in the days that lead up to my victory! Supershow on the Strip awaits, and I am MORE than ready to take what is rightfully mine!

But enough talk... we must start the show!

(Again, Olvir dons the bullhorn.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Places, all of your! We must begin filming Thor's Threeway!

(The portly fellow whom was buried beneath a mound of donuts and pop before returns, his t-shirt stained and covered with powdered sugar doused in oversweetened green soda.)

Crew Member
But Mr. Arsvinnar... there's four in this picture.

(BAM!! The poor fool goes down with a well-delivered blow to his face on part of Olvir, who doesn't even turn in the other mans direction to knock him off his feet! He raises the bullhorn again.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
As the Great Olvir was just pronouncing... we must now begin Futhorc Fourway! Places, everybody!

(People quickly hurry to their designated positions. Olvir himself tosses the megaphone aside and walks up onto the stage, designed in it's usual Viking get-up, only with the addition of stone tables with carvings and appliances that look like primitive forms of modern gambling games. The casino of ancient Scandinavia, perhaps.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Light of the Gods!

(The spotlights hit.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Magic Eye of Odin!

(The cameras track in.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Olvir tosses his wolfs-hide shawl aside as the recording begins. He turns around to his scene, where three bikini-clad models await him...)

(One is dressed in boots and a cowboy hat...)

(One wears glasses with pigtails and a plaid skirt with a tie...)

(One wears a sash that reads "Miss Warsaw 2003" and holds a large sausage in her hands...)

(At the center of them all stands Olvir, very defiant and pompous, hands on his hips and letting out uproarious laughter.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Feast your eyes upon me, noble serfs! Look upon the three fine wenches who stand with me! Today, before you, I shall dominate them as I will dominate the three that await me at Supershow on the Strip!

"Lad of Kine" Yames Donovan!

Amazing Web Browsing Spider-Man, thwipp thwipp!!

Polish Wrecking Machine, Hans Nowak!

Although I must hesitate... because three at one time can prove to be too much in some instances, even for a man of my MAGNIFICIENT strength and power! On good days, I could possibly handle a HUNDRED women! But these are no ordinary women...

No... any oridinary whore with a virgin buttocks could be up here... but these three are here because they are the best of the best! Much like my opponents, who earned the right to compete against a man of my greatness! Therefore, as I will with these ladies, I will with my opponents!

(He snatches the first girl by the arm, the one with the sash and the sausage.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
First, we will start with YOU, Hans Nowak!

You come from a land south of my own known as the Poland, or should I say the Land of Poles? I hear you are KNOWN for your very LARGE and STURDY sausages!

(Olvir takes the sausage from her hand and waves it front of the camera.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
But let me ask you, do you think your sausage compares to the Great Olvir's? Many wenches have tried to swallow mine, but found it too great in absolute GIRTH to contain!!

But I digress... Hans Nowak, you are a VERY strong man! One that impresses me much, with your GREAT, MASCULINE size! When we fight, we will be like MIGHTY GODS swinging fists!

However... for a man of such muscular power, you happen to be much shorter than I would have expected. Perhaps not just short in height? HA HA HA HA!!

I would think you call your land the Land of Poles as a way to entice foolish women who come thinking of long, sturdy poles, but come to find something MUCH LESS than what Olvir and the Vikings have to the North!

Perhaps you should tell your lovely wench Miss Ann she will find GREATER MAN in me than in someone so short as yourself!

You are very strong, Hans Nowak, but you are mad with power, driven crazy by your own inferiority! You look upon the GREATNESS that is Olvir Arsvinnar, and wish you could be as TALL and as ENDOWED! But you FAIL!!

(Like a carnivorous best, Olvir rips into the Polish sausage with a hefty bite and spits it back into the camera.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
The weight of my great club below ALONE stretches to greater length than you! You know this, and you FEAR this! Which is why though I admire your great and undeniable strength, you will NEVER be as great as Olvir Arsvinnar!

(Olvir tosses the Polish woman aside, brings forward the one looking like your typical office space nerd... only hotter.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Next we come to Amazing Homeless Web Browser! Many comics I have read of yours, Spider-Spinner!

But you are an INSECT fighting a TRUE MAN, and you shall be SQUASHED as one! HA HA HA HA!!

But I wonder... HOW does the famous Peter Parker come to be nothing more than a miserable waste of flesh? All you do, Web-Browsing Crawl-Waller, is cry and complain about your misery!

He who focuses on his misery is doomed to live it for the rest of his life! Olvir Arsvinnar only knows GLORY, which is why he only LIVES with everlasting glory in his life! Every night, the myriads of women... the bottomless horn of mead... great feasts and parties to be remembered for many years...

You have no heart, stupid insect! You only care about your magical box! Perhaps next time, you should look up Olvir Arsvinnar on that "Gargle" device to see what a TRUE man is made of!

Fear me, Arachnid! I am everything you wish to be, and much more! I am Mighty Thor, and you are merely a bug boy!

(Olvir shoves the second girl aside and brings forward the third, the cowgirl.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Last but NOT least... we have bucking broncho, Yames Donovan!

You like to ride the noble horse as well as ride the nimble arse, do you? We have much in common!

But you are nothing but PUNY MAN-MEAT!!

It is men like you who give TRUE men such as myself a bad reputation! You may fornicate a woman, but I do SO much more than simple violate her loins! I am what my people refer to as a DESTROYER of the arse, not just a simple fornicator!

Look at your hopeless rodeo! The point is to stay on the bull longer than other weak men! But a man such as the Great Olvir would not let the beast defeat him! Olvir Arsvinnar would take that bull by the horns, and proceed to work it to the ground and DOMINATE IT!!

...provided it was a lady bull, ahem.

But you see my point. You call yourself a pornstar. I call you an IMPOSTER!! I am a TRUE man!!

(Olvir brings all three girls close to him, wraps them in his arms.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
The three of you have fought well to come this far... but none of you prove to be a greater man than myself, which is why only Olvir Arsvinnar deserves to walk away with the famous World Title!

But, perhaps, doing so would prove nothing...

After all, in a mere two matches in which I DOMINATED my opponents, the fans have come to love me more than anyone else! In some respect, I am LVW's champion already, and winning this match would be little more than a meaningless act!

With or without the title, the people will know that I am the TRUE champion of this federation, because I am the only one with sizable testicles hanging between his legs! The rest of you are cowards!

Yes, COWARDS!! You live in FEAR of me! You live in fear of FAILURE!!

All of you come into this match, knowing you have something to prove... and if you are beaten, your proof will go unseen! The people will see you as a farce, and all of you know you face a great risk if you look into the face of failure!

I, however, have NOTHING to proven that hasn't been proven already! In two matches, I have already defined myself as the best warrior in the world! That is why I won't go into this match with the fear that if I should fail, I will not be LVW's champion! I am a champion in my own right; it is the THREE OF YOU that must make the effort to win this mighty Ironman Match to set yourself above me!

I will go into this match... not to prove anything that isn't already known by all! I will walk in merely for SPORT, because it will entertain me greatly to DOMINATE the three of you, as it will be for these three fine wenches before me!

Let it be known! I came to this city, Las Vegas, to rape and pillage its women and treasures! The three of your are the final obstacles in the way of my goal! At Supershow on the Strip, the Great Olvir Arsvinnar will be victorious, and Las Vegas will be CONQUERED by the noble Vikings!


(Bellowing tremendous laughter, Olvir throws the three women over his shoulders and carries them to the nearest table, proceeding to undress them...)

(...yeah right, if you think I'm going to write out an entire four-way sequence after all THAT, then you're freakin' crazy. Let's just say, Olvir dominates the competition...)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Much like he'll dominate the competition at the show! HA HA HA HA!!

(Titties floppin', panties droppin', and all the good things you can find on a basic search on your "Gurgle" device. We go to black.)

03-08-06, 10:37 PM
Miss Ann sizes the puppies as she sits in a folding chair in a makeshift office room. The brochure faxed six months ago, the final sales pitch, sold a hell of a lot more than this, but there’s a roof over her head and the scent of fear emits from two grown men. It’s like home really. Only the Garden under the kitchen window is real and flourishing; stark contrast to life here at the LVW Offices. The goldfish in a bottle looks dead on arrival, a plastic tree greeted her entrance, and from where Ann’s seated Dogs are playing poker on the walls. Miss Sadowski sits, above it all, at a conference table picked off at a corporate warehouse’s dumpster. The two men making the pitch today relayed the anecdote. Corporate Dumpsters: Shopping for kings, if your business is content to be thought of as a Kingdom in squalor.

“A moving picture about HANS?” Ann cracks her knuckles; the hollow echo plays like a war drum to the puppies before her. Not dogs yet, men at this stage, untested and trained, just puppies: still loveable.

“With sound even…” Dave Morrison shot back. It’s his first day in a tie. Whether Miss Ann’s reputation or three-page fax cover letter on their expected dress code sent him mining in the far reaches of his closet is up for grabs.

“Don’t patronize me boy, I’ll have you curled in ball crying for mother’s vagina again…” Ann slams the table with her left fist.



Truth be told, the meeting was called with nothing to sell. Morrison was bet a hundred dollars that he couldn’t get Miss Ann alone, in leathers, without eventually licking the base of a toilet. So far so good, though Dave can feel his dick pulling hard like it’s a fishing like that’s roped a tournament winning Marlin. “What my partner was saying…we want to do a documentary about HANS, leading up to the Supershow Main Event. HANS is a rare bird…”

“He’s a magnificent beast, a quality of man your father taught you nothing about.”

He works well under pressure. Documentary. He’ll **** her by the end of shooting. Ann’s just a little girl in need of a hug and willing ear to listen. All women are really. Some are just in stronger denial than others.

“No. No he didn’t. HANS, is a two-sport professional athlete. Strongman contests. Wrestling. There’s a story there, and it can be profitable to LVW if it’s portrayed correctly.”

“If it’s nursed as if from Miss Ann’s bosom, yes brilliance lies just behind the narrative teat.”

“Exactly! Is this something you and HANS may want to consider?”

“Seventy-five percent of the gross.”

The ***** of every idea is making it happen.





“Forty after expenses are recovered.”

Ann looks off the Dogs, and uncrosses her legs. She’ll have Morrison and Fetner his partner eating out of tube socks by the end of production. Another toy, not exactly what was on her Christmas list, but that hug never sounds as good sober.

“Fifty-five. You will have unfettered access. To both Hans, and Mistress. You will see how a God lives his life and not question a thing.”

“Just sign here…”

“Drive it Isabella. If we don’t make this shoot I’m going to have to ****ing take Paul up on his offer. Six weeks in Vancouver. My skin rots just considering.”

The Cherry Red ‘00 Pontiac firebird beats the desert pavement hard. It’s a gorgeous day. The sun, the wind, thoughts of being able to call their own shots before they’re twenty-five: magic. Justine gives another sarcastic look of encouragement then looks over her shoulder. She can’t shake the feeling that they’re being followed.

“I’m twenty over the limit, Justine. ****ing relax. I can’t afford to be stopped. Out of state license? They’d trace it back to my dad’s. He’ll kill me if I’m found.”

“You don’t think he’s reckoned you’ve run off to suck dick for a living and has made peace with it?”

“Shut up!”

“Run the tires off, slut. Your ass getting grounded is the last thing I’m worried about.”

Justine lights a cigarette, taking a strong enough drag to forget.

“You’re such a *****.”

“Look!” She tosses the cig by Isabella’s face, and out the driver side window. ” If I don’t make Arsvinnar’s ‘Nordic Tits’ shoot I’m like seriously in the red. Okay, and that means the only job offer I have, unless I want my ass waiting tables to be picked up by old men and frat boys, is a six week shoot in Vancover where the Great Gazoo only knows what I’ll be ****ing.”

“Sounds kinda hot.”

Justine slumps back in her seat, resigned to the fact that Isabella will be beaten and murdered one day by someone in the business. Maybe her.

“You’re such an idiot.”


“Hey!” The car jolts hard to the left, then sputters off the side of the road. The blown tire has them both shaken, and stranded.

“Are you okay?”

“This is not happening! Ugh!”

“Justine..are you…”

“Shut up, I’m fine. We’ll never make it in…”

Suddenly, the car lifts up and starts moving forward. The girls look back and through the back windshield they see HANS lifting the car with two hands and running with it.

“What the hell!”

The girls stick their heads out of the window to see Miss Ann walking in front of HANS, whip in hand, and the documentary crew filming, from different angles.

“Justine, what’s going on! Justine?”

The elder turns back in her seat, in utter disbelief.

“My life has become a porn film….”

“OLVIR! OLVIR!” Hans screams into a documentary camera, his strong Polish features filling the frame.

“Are you missing something? Hah Are you less man than you were before? No. You tell me!”

Hans steps out of the way to reveal the inside of a warehouse of some sort. Justine and Isabella chained in circular cages, which are spinning slowly, in all degrees. The girls are screaming to Miss Ann’s delight, who whips them harder through the cage.

“Your WHORES are now my slaves. They will be molded as Polish God made me and all of Poland. They will be balled into nothingness then hand crafted into willing slave for HANS and MISS ANN!”

“Pleaseeeeeeeeeee. Let me out of here!”

“SILENCE!’ Miss Ann kicks one of the cages, spinning it more. She’s also a wonder at Candyland.

“OLVIR, you dare question HANS’ manhood. You DARE make claim that you will pull me from the heavens and turn me into but a mere mortal. You have no power! You have nothing but whores paid to do your bidding! American sluts sexing you for almighty dollar, because Education system in America failed them. Because there is no moral fiber like in Poland! HANS WILL ATTACK at the Supershow! HANS will render Vegas into a Police State! HANS will walk down aisle with Miss ANN present, with your paid whores in my possession…and you will see how thorough their training was. I will break their minds and give them but small tasks to do for the rest of their lives as their only connection with me. What you once bought NOW BELONGS TO HANS! In one day HANS bring down your cinematic empire, cost you fortune to replace *****es and retrain your pets! OLVIR….HANS ATTACK!”

“And when my MAD BEAST attacks you Nordic Cum Dumpster,” Miss Ann sternly walks towards the camera, the picture getting shakier. “When he attacks mountains fall, virgins bleed, and AMERICA draws a little closer to being his!”

Morrison drops the camera and runs like hell..

“Fool! You have virgin stomach!”

Outside the warehouse, Dave doubles over and pukes. It’s the greatest state of denial he’s ever seen, but despite the puke flavoring his colorless lips, Morrison has money riding on Ann cracking.

03-09-06, 04:40 AM
( Inside a hotel room at the Flamingo, the view over-looking the nightly watershow from across the street at the Bellagio. Johnny Doll is looking out the large window at the spectacle below. There are no lights on inside the room, just the lone brightness of the television set. "The History of Broadway" on A&E is playing for the 10th weekend in a row. A few minutes pass and a specific commercial catches the ear and the eyeof Johnny.)

Commercial-- "Have you been screwed by the Casinos when you lay down your bets? "

( An actor is shown throwing a wad of money on a sports book counter and another actor dressed in a casino worker outfit taking it away.)

" Is Blackjack not adding up to 21 ?!?! "
( The same actor is shown with a 20 and the casino worker turning over a 21. )

" Do you double down only to get double crossed ?"


" Slot machines not paying off at a high percentage ?? "


( TV spot shows the actor making a phone call on his cell phone. )

Voice over of Ben Lerner: " Then call the Hard Hitter! I won't let any money grubbing death traps called casinos get away with your earnings! I'll even get you larger comps! Upgrades from a basement room to a penthouse overlooking the strip. "

( Actor is shown entering a penthouse with money hanging out of his pockets. )

"I'm Ben Lerner and I am working for you!! "

Call 1-800-BIGG-BEN.......... That's 1-800-244-4896!


(Lerner ends the commercial going from a serious look to a devious smile)

( After the commercial was over Johnny turns off the television and sits down in a chair.)

" Lerner, You make me sick! Someone should sue you for incompetency. The fans know an uncaring, swarmy, blackmailing hypocrite when they see one. It's time for you to see the err of your ways. And I am just the man to show you. You're just a wolf in sheep's clothing ready to pounce on the very next opportuntity that you cheat your way up to the top. I'm relishing the opportunity to put my #1 contendership on the line. It just means how much it is valued in this organization. You see after beating you, my sights are set on one thing only. That is to give the next world champion the shortest title reign ever. The fans are sending in hundreds of pieces of mail already giving me a boost toward my goal. It doesn't show you anywhere in the equation. Ben Lerner get ready to be sent to the bottom of the ladder. This is my time to have my name up in lights! "

Fade Out...

03-10-06, 12:38 AM
Well gollee, if you varmints ain't the orneriest sons of b*tches I ever seen, then I ain't never seen no ornery b*tches in my life. I mean, c'mon now, I gots puny man-meat thar Olvir? Well if that don't beat all, cuz I ain't never gotten no complaints about my ding-dong from none of the ladies, I reckon. Everyone loves to ride the Cowboy Express, an' I bet thems porn mistresses y'all got thar wouldn't mind gettin' railed by a real man. I'll even pay 'em for it! They get to win twice.

But that'll have to wait 'til after I'm done sinkin' yer viking ship an' sendin' you back to Norway or Greenland or whatever Arctic hellhole y'all came from now. I mean, eatin' all that fatty meat ain't no good fer you before a big match, an' neither is all that sex. That's what's good fer after the match.

An' that's why yer goin' home after I done win the title. I use my veteran senses t'get me outta jams like that an' prepare. It's just like bangin' a hooker who been round the block a few times. You gotta build up a routine and get the hang a' things.

An' from the looks of things, you ain't got no hang of it, Olvir.

Onto Hans, well, you ain't just dumb, y'all is dumber than dirt if you believe that I'm some cowboy from Brokeback Mountain. Naw, I'm a straight shooter, just like Wyatt Earp or John Holmes. I mean, I did done experiment wit' a guy, but I was pretty stoned an' drunk, and I didn't like how my dick stung for the next three days after, but other than that, I just done wimmen. An' I ain't afraid to admit that either. Hey, everyone's curious at some time, I reckon.

But there ain't no curiosity about how this match is gon' turn out, Hans. Yer goin' down faster than Fabiola used to do to me before she got taken off by that dastardly El Magick-O (editor's note: the O is for orgasm). An' then maybe yer Ann can be pleased by a real man.

Finally, Web Browser, yer still on about how I don't use the computer like you like it? Jeez, you ain't one to let no grudges go, is you? Well, since y'all so stuck in the past, how bout I knock you back into last week? Then y'all will be able to experience the thrill of victory against Mitch Grey again, seein' as you ain't gonna get close to victory this week.

An' even though the sweet, sweet Brazilian poontang is too tempting, I figger I don't need you no more, since when I win the belt, I'll have so much money from winnin' the Champion's pot that I can pay someone enough to find me one of that Brazilian *****.

03-10-06, 02:04 PM

(Open on a simple establishing shot of the Valhalla Studios production lot.)


(Fade to the exterior of a sound stage. One of the large loading doors is open a crack. At least a dozen random crew members and studio laborors crowd around the darkened opening, peering inside. From within, we can hear the sound of a woman's pleasurably moans, and something that sounds similar to a garbage bag full of bowling balls being slung into the hood of a blue '03 Pontiac Grand Prix repeatedly.)


(Cut to the interior of the sound stage, where the sound is even louder. We get a shot of the wide-eyed expressions of the crew members peeking in from the inside, all of them wearing the same adolescent, open-jawed smile a twelve year old wears the day he discovers his dad's Hustler mag behind that refridgerator full of beer he keeps in the garage.)

(The camera gracefully zooms back until they are in the background, and into the frame comes the sleaze-ball director from the last promo, bright blue eyes wild and unblinking over his shoddy Ray-Ban knockoffs. Beads of sweat trickle down his balding head as he literally hops around on both feet while he watches the action on stage, hidden from our view. A camera guy catching all the action wears a stoner's grin. The guy with the boom mic stands near him, wincing as though he's watching a video on the internet of a pig being decapitated with a chainsaw. Web Browser could probably tell you more about that.)


Yeah, give it to me, Olvir! Don't hold back now!

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)

(The sound of a furniture set being loaded into the back of a pick-up truck and driven into the bottom floor of Macy's fills the room.)

Woman On Stage (OS)

Boom Guy
That's the most ****ed up thing I've seen!

Woman On Stage (OS)
Oh... oh...

Second Woman On Stage (OS)
Uh, how much longer do I keep this ping pong ball in place?

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)
SILENCE!! Now YOU shall be dealt with! HA HA HA HA!!

Yes, YES!! More talk, Olvir, it's driving me WILD!!

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)
You know why Vikings have such big HORNS?! HHRRAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!

(A beach ball filled with a china set is put into the back of a cement truck, which is suddenly crushed under the force of a plane carrying spare mannequin parts for the next James Donovan shoot.)

Second Woman On Stage

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)

Camera Guy
Whoa, dude... good thing I did that J earlier.

Third Woman On Stage (OS)
So what about me?

Midget On Stage (OS)
Yeah, what are you going to do about her, boss?

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)
I shall SHOW you, wee man!

Midget On Stage (OS)
Whoa, hey wait--!!

(We hear the sound of a man stuffing his fist while it's wrapped in bacon into a half-full jar of mayonaisse. I say half-full, because we're being optimistic here.)

BRILLIANT, Olvir! Now this is it! This is you're big finish! Give it to 'em like you will at Supershow on the Strip!!

Third Woman On Stage (OS)
No, wait, wait--

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)

Second Woman On Stage (OS)
Maybe we could talk this over?!

Olvir Arsvinnar (OS)

First Woman On Stage (OS)
Goodbye lower intestine...

Olvir Arsvinarr (OS)

(Complete and utter destruction! School buses filled with pudding! dropped from planes over mine-fields! A bulldozer crashing into a train at a Man-O-War concert! A space shuttle nose-diver into the Empire State Building the day of the fireworks convention! Michael Moore in a men's room stall when he has the runs!)

(In unison, the three men off stage recoil as a gale of wind sweeps over them, blowing the director's three dollar toupee into another dimension! A midget in a speedo with a swimming cap and goggles suddenly slides to their feet, looking like he's taken a bath in a giant can of Crisco. He gets up and picks something from his ear.)

Man, I am getting to old for this...

(As the midget walks off, there is silence. Then, Olvir Arsvinnar, in all of his "glory", steps into the frame, positioning "himself" mere inches away from the camera lens capturing the action on stage. The cameraman suddenly goes pale. We, fortunately, are left with a shot of his god-like ass: two peach globes of steel that resonates its own source of light.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Victorious yet again! Who could imagine outdoing the mighty Viking?

First Woman On Stage (OS)

Second Woman On Stage (OS)

Third Woman On Stage (OS)
...where am I?

(An assistant hands Olvir his royal blue robe as the cameraman faints and drops to the floor like a sack of elephant ****.)

My God, Olvir, you're solid gold, kid! That was PERFECT! That was ART! That was--

Olvir Arsvinnar
That was merely a warm-up for the celebration following my imminent victory! Any Viking could recreate such glory in his sleep! You don't see that from such puny fellows as Yames Donovan and Wall-Crawling Web Browser, do you?

NO! Because only the Viking is the greatest force in the world! HA HA HA HA!!

(The boom mic operator meekly steps forward.)

Boom Guy
Uh, Mr. Arsvinnar? Could I get your autograph?

Olvir Arsvinnar

(BOOM!! Down the boom mic handler goes as a truck of a fist fills the air where his face once was! He drops beside the cameraman.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Now forever you will carry the bruises made by a REAL man's fist! HA HA HA HA!! You carry long stick to make up for shortness in your pants!

(Another assistant hands Olvir a hearty horn of mead and a great leg of felled beast. Followed by the camera, he takes his seat away from the stage, in his chair done up to resemble an ancient barbarian's throne.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
It is gloriful violating such as this that prepares me for the challenge that awaits me! I must build my endurance... my patience... and my strength!

Three at once in one hour? Bah! A challenge that most normal men would look at and run screaming for their mother's teat! I, however, am no normal man... I am the GREATEST man! This is not a challenge to me; this is merely a chance to showcase my GREATNESS for the world!

Already, my opponents have spoken against my words! How bemused I was to see their anger and embarrassment surface over their previous confidence and pride!

Do you know why they are angry? It is because they KNOW there is truth to Olvir's words! The feel THREATENED by my greatness! They deny and they defer in a puny attempt to save their wounded pride, but a Viking knows a true man when he sees them!

And these men? They are true men, I cannot deny that. Nowak, yes... he is strong, and Donovan, yes... he is endowed. They have fought with all passion and effort to earn their place to stand on the mountain. However, they fail to realize that the Great OLVIR is that mountain! No matter how large a man's muscles or how long his manhood, it cannot match the POWER and LENGTH of the World's Champion, Olvir Arsvinnar!!

Those who speak otherwise may support their opinions with knowedgable truths that they know from experience and through study. They deem worthiness based on logic and wisdom and know-how, choosing to argue through methods of reason and rationale.

And I say BEHEAD THOSE PUNY FELLOWS!!! A TRUE man argues his case with his FISTS!! I shall do as such at the Supershow on the Strip, as I will go to WAR in support my the VIKING TRUTH!!

Hans Nowak... I must have been wrong about you before. You have proven your worth to me.

You believe I am merely a man who cares for women and riches... how I throw my money about to get what I want. But you are WRONG, and you prove that you know NOTHING of the Vikings! The Great Olvir TAKES what he wants by force! The women you see me with have been STRIPPED AWAY from their homes and their families to give in to my earthly desires!

That is why when I see you take women from their car and make them your own slaves, I say, GOOD WORK, fellow man! You truly understand the ways of the Viking then!

There is no denying that you are a man of profound greatness! In your Land of Poles, you may be a God! Unfortunately, you have now left your motherland and entered the grand scope of the ENTIRE WORLD, a land conquered by the Vikings a thousand years ago! We do no not compete for the LVW Poland Title... we compete for the WORLD Title!

As great as you may be over the rest of the pitiful men on this planet, you do not match the level of GREATNESS and STRENGTH and MASCULINITY of the mighty Olvir Arsvinnar!

And now on Yames Donovan...

(The boom mic operator, now recovered and wearing the biggest Olvir Arsvinnar autograph seen by the known world on his left eye, wearily steps into the frame.)

Boom Guy
Actually, it's 'James' Donovan...

(THWACK!! He is cast aside as the mighty redwood trunk of Olvir's arm shoots to his left and blows the man out of frame as though he were standing next to an exploding purple duck!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
James Donovan... you criticize my wanton violating and eating habits, yet you say I am wrong when I call you less man than myself?

A TRUE man does not tire himself before a match... because a TRUE man is never tired! I eat this mighty leg of felled beast because it turns my blood to fire and makes me MORE man than the greatness I already am! This mead warms my spirit and blesses the heart! As for the women...

HA! You save your violating for the end of the match... I save it for before, after, and every moment I am not in the ring, because my ENDURANCE is unmatched! You make me wonder if you have all the strength involved to last a full hour, being as small as you are against a giant such as myself!

I am just giving you a sample of my power! I am showing you that I can keep going and going and going! My wanton love-making is the same as my wanton destruction at Supershow on the Strip! The arena is my bed-chamber! You are the ass that begs domination! At the Supershow, I shall destroy you as I have destroyed the rectums of so many women this week alone!

Do not fool yourselves, fellow men... you all hold a great place in this federation as being greater than the rest. But one stands above the three of you, and it is I!

Look around you... the people all know who the truth champion is! You all become angry when I speak, but it is only because you know that you are doomed to fail a match that you must succeed in order to protect your pride! I find that amusing, because a TRUE man should not have to defend his pride, because he should never allow it to be attacked!

Make your time, Donovan, Nowak, and Browser! The Viking has come to conquer the city of Las Vegas!

(At this point, the greasy midget walks into frame.)

Ready for another round boss?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Has the bed been fixed already?

Yeah, but the girls are shot for the rest of the day... rest of their lives too, probably. We're going to need another three.

(Olvir bounds to his feet, tossing aside leg and horn. He dons his great axe of sheer power!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Let us go! We shall find three ample women and take them in the light of day! The Viking shows no fear! HA HA HA HA!!

(Olvir bounds toward the open loading door of the soundstage, barrelling through the dozen assembled crew members who are scattered like tooth picks! He cuts around a corner and disappears. The sound of screaming women can be heard not too far off...)


03-10-06, 02:06 PM
Yeah, another one of these...

03-11-06, 02:17 AM

::Sir Simon standing in the backstage interview area::

Sir Simon: “I am here with…”

::Bellmoth rips the mike out of Simon’s hand and pushes him off screen::

Bellmoth: “What are the idiots that run this rinky dink promotion thinking? I THEE GREAT BILL BELLMOTH 9 time World Series of Wrestling Champion, the man that has not finished lower than second in ANY of his matches in LVW, a man that had the #1 contendership to the LVW title won until a 989 to 1 suck out on the river by Joey Doll or whatever his name is, I bet that minor leaguer has NO IDEA how lucky he got there, and now I am stuck fighting for some second string, outer tables title that no one cares about anyway. But never let it be said the Thee great Bill Bellmoth does not respect the game. I will go out there and win this meaningless title and actually bring some prestige to it. I have wasted enough time imparting my unparalleled wisdom on you cretins; I have another bracelet to add to my already enormous collection.”

::Bellmoth throws down the mike and walks off::


03-11-06, 03:58 AM
(FADEIN: "LERNER & Associates" .. the neon sign buzzes to life as a woman in a skimpy suit, standing in between the open door, flicks on a light switch. Sitting in his car, a Cadillac, baby blue, with the top down, is the 'HARD HITTER' Ben Lerner. He whips out his comb and in one fell swoop slicks his hair back and places it back in his pocket. He smiles and one can almost see that faux glimmer pop on the television screen.)

LERNER: "What is this? Johnny Doll has the AUDACITY to say someone should sue me? You better be careful, Johnny ... I can turn a pauper into a prince in a matter of seconds ... and before you know it, you'll have a citation slapped against you so quickly for inciting a riot that you won't know what hit you. (He checks his teeth in the rear view mirror.) And believe me when I say this .. as much as I love free publicity for my services ... the unlawful dissemination of my commercials without expressed written consent could drain your pocketbook faster than you can say "copyright infringement." You don't want to start a war with Las Vegas' most IMPECCABLE lawyer."

(The neon sign turns off ... then flickers back on .. then turns off .. in the background we can hear some confusion..)

WOMAN: "Hmm.. this switch must be, like, broken."

(Lerner shakes his head..)

LERNER: "KARA! Stop playing with the sign switch and let's go! I gotta get to the show!"

(She shuts the door, leaving the lights on, and starts prancing over to the car. Her tight white top leaving very little to the imagine as she is in motion. Lerner takes down his shades a little and glances at the camera before pushing them back up and waiting for her to get into the car.)

LERNER: "Now Johnny Doll .. I'm going to make this plain and simple .. because for someone who got B's through school I know that you are not really up to intellectual capacity ... I, afterall, did graduate from Law School with the highest honors that can be bestowed ... but lets not fool ourselves. Making this a FAIR match? If you weren't such a bottom feeder, I would sue Las Vegas Wrestling ON YOUR BEHALF for feeding you to the dogs! If you weren't such a CRIME AGAINST SOCIETY, I would sue Las Vegas Wrestling for putting you in clear and imminent danger. "

(Lerner throws the car in reverse and smoothly pulls out of a spot. His front plate says "HARD" ...)

LERNER: "You're stepping in the ring with a PROFESSIONAL, kid .. this isn't some Way Off, Off Broadway show here.. Let's face it, Johnny ... and I'll dumb this down enough so that you understand.. in fact, I'll put it in your native tongue. When it comes down to it ... *I* am winning the Tony tonight while you're going to be that nominee who everyone knew was the "felt sorry for him" choice."

(He shudders.)

LERNER: "That's it .. I'm not going to make anymore Broadway references tonight .. I can't handle it .. I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it. The fact is, Mr. Doll, that Las Vegas Wrestling has continually put its wrestlers at risk. They have all but destroyed the boyhood dream of my client ... and then, through absolute negligence and referee malpractice, almost ruined my career! This settlement was the first step for Las Vegas Wrestling to clean up their business and bring some RESPONSIBILITY and RESPECT to the table. I won't stand aside while me or any other wrestler on the roster is treated unduly by the organization. It is my position as a CARRIER OF TRUTH ... as a DEFENDER OF JUSTICE ... to make sure that LVW is a JUST organization. Tonight they have proven that they once more do not care for their talent. Johnny Doll, its unfortunate that Las Vegas Wrestling has treated you the way they have. But I will make this swift. I will make sure, even after all you've done to me to warrant retaliation, that it will be over with and maybe, JUST MAYBE, you'll be able to walk out of here with a tiny bit of self-acceptance."

(He smiles as he shifts into first gear..)

LERNER: "You won't be the first, and you won't be the last to have been protected by the HARD HITTER .... but if you try to pull anymore of that bullshlt that you have pulled ... well ... be smart... because you can't AFFORD not to be .. and THAT is a fact!"

(FADEOUT: As Lerner peels out of the parking lot .. the camera focusing in on the back license plate which reads "HITTER")

03-12-06, 06:11 AM
(FADEIN: Fremont & 6th, outside the El Cortez. JACK HOUSE in UNLV hoodie.)

JACK HOUSE: "Psh... it been busy. It GET busy when it comes to bustin' foo's at the tables, dealin' out BLACKJACK, and puttin' in the eight hours, takin' another suckers money - money fo' the HOUSE."

"Y'all don' know this, but some of us... some of us WORK. Some of us gots JOBS to do. Some of us gots to go WORK at a JOB when we ain't bustin' heads in the ring, where I'mma WORKING to be a LEGEND... and killin' all the legend FAKERS dead."

"An' at Supershow One? I gots a man who decided HE DON'T NEED to work for the man no' more. A man who DON'T NEED to work fo' the house no more... just so he can get one last gasp of pretendin' to be something he never was... Gladiator, you been champ befo', but you ain't no LEGEND. Never was, and after I BLACKJACK yo' ass, you'll never will be."

"You can't RUN from the House, you can't QUIT from the House... and nobody... NOBODY... BEATS... THE HOUSE."


04-11-06, 07:40 PM
Fade into the entrance to the VIP lounge of Mandalay Bay. The Gentleman of Leisure is standing by with a microphone and a slightly inebriated, newly crowned LVW World Champion known as the Cowboy, Jimmy Donovan, cowboy hat on head, bottle of champagne in one hand, what we can only assume is a hooker in the other arm, and LVW Championship slung over his shoulder. Women all around too. And some guys, but mostly women.

GOL: Alright, I am leisurely standing by with the new Las Vegas Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, James Donovan. Jimmy, how do you feel after becoming the first ever World Champ?

JD: Yeeeee-haw! I feel finer than a fox in a henhouse, or at least a rich teenager in a whorehouse! I'm darn-tootin' on cloud nine! Whoooo!

GOL: I can see that. So what about Fabiola and El-Magick-O?

JD: That can wait 'til I'm done celebratin'! 'Sides, why should I worry about some yeller bellied coward when I gots this pats the title to celebrate wit'?

GOL: So what are you going to do to celebrate?

JD: I'm gonna do what erryone does when they'sa win somethin' good... I'M GETTIN' DRUNK OFF MY ASS... YEEEEEEEE-HAAAA!

GOL: Sounds like a plan! I'm in!

GOL drops the microphone and follows Jimmy.

JD: Hey everybody, we're all gettin' laid!

The crowd cheers wildly as they head into to VIP lounge to celebrate. Fade to black.

The Great Eye
04-14-06, 06:57 PM
Rp for the match here

The Great Eye
04-14-06, 06:58 PM
Rp for the match here

The Great Eye
04-14-06, 06:59 PM
Winner gets a title shot at Grande.

The Great Eye
04-14-06, 06:59 PM
Rp for this epic clash here.

The Great Eye
04-14-06, 06:59 PM
Donovan Vs Doll, Rp here.

04-18-06, 11:14 AM
(A Dark Corner somewhere in The House of Blues: The Camera finds Shadric the Dog Boy all twisted up scratching his balls with his teeth. He does this for some time before finally noticing the camera crew. He sits bolt upright and bears his teeth.)

SHADRIC: Grrrrrrrrrrr..........

(The Camera backs away a bit as Shadric growls some more)

SHADRIC: Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..........grrrrrrr r....grrrrr...............

(Shadric appraises the camera and his look softens a bit. He stops growling and hangs his tongue out the side of his mouth - head cocked just slightly.)

SHADRIC: {*pants a little*}

(The Camera slowly starts to pull back in again. Suddenly Shadric lunges - snapping wildly with his jaws. The Camera flails wildly about in the chaos - catching a heavy boot smashing down onto Shadrics skull as it does. The camera regains focus as Shadric scurries back into his corner and takes a defensive pose.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: You okay there, Dory?

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: You see that? Crazy f***er tried to bite me.

OFF-CAMERA #1: Yeah.... Crazy f***er.

OFF-CAMERA #2: Let's get out of here. They don't pay us enough to put up with this kind of crap.

(The Camera backs away quickly.)

OFF-CAMERA #2: Goddam it. I think I might be bleeding. I knew I should have joined the damn union.

OFF CAMERA #1: Yeah. You'd have better healthcare, at least.

SHADRIC: {*whimpers softly in his corner*}


Mad Dog
04-19-06, 11:36 PM
(FADEIN to the roulette table inside the Sam Remo Hotel and Casino. Carmine Esposito is wearing a black velour jogging suit. The jacket is slightly unzipped exposing several gold chains hidden within his bushy chest hair. Carmine combs his fluffy blonde hair, styled in the tradition of Vinnie Barbarino.

The ball spins around and around. It begins to settle down as it clanks along the notches of the roulette wheel. The noise stops and the dealer yells out “22 – Black”. Carmine grins from ear to ear at the good news.)

“THE INFERNO” CARMINE ESPOSITO: (Laughing) Am I hot or am I hot?

(Carmine slaps his hands together and rubs them with anticipation of receiving his winnings. The camera pans down at his chips and reveals that he seems to be up quite a bit. The multiple stacks of chips increase as the dealer slides Carmine’s share to him.)

CARMINE: I don’t know what it is…it’s like I’m in the zone or somethin’ over here.

(A woman walks over to Carmine and begins fondling his chest hair. Carmine takes a close look at her and freaks out. He shoves her off of him.)

CARMINE: Hey…get the f(BLEEP) outta here, you f(BLEEP)in’ finocchio! You better head down the road to the Blue Oyster and take that s(BLEEP) over to those Village People rejects! You freakin’ recchione! You make me sick!

(Security walks up to investigate the disturbance.)

CARMINE: You get that…that…THING…outta here!

(Security hauls the crossdresser off and Carmine sits out a round at the wheel to collect himself. He spots Jimmy Two Times and waves him over.)

CARMINE: Jimmy, some freakin’ finocch just came up and tried to make the moves on me. I feel dirty…I gotta go take a shower or somethin’ over here.

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Which one was it – was it?

CARMINE: I don’t even want to think about it.

(Shakes his head in disgust.)

JIMMY: No, tell me – tell me. I know some people – people. We can get that recchione – recchione.

(Carmine points the finocch out and Jimmy gets a strange look on his face. The kind of look someone makes when they realize they made a terrible – terrible mistake.)

JIMMY: Uhh…yeah…I will uhhh…talk to my people – my people. So uhh….how much are you up – up?

(Jimmy still looks worried, but Carmine doesn’t pick up on it.)

CARMINE: You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. (Grins.) Ten large. You walking up is probably a good thing. I think I’ll cash out before I go crazy.

JIMMY: Are you gonna kick up any of this to Gino – Gino? You know they call me all the time wanting updates – updates. They’ve been patient, but it ain’t gonna last forever – forever. I already sent them the winnings from your last match from the Supershow on the Strip – the Strip.

CARMINE: You know that paying the debt off to the Russo Family is my number one priority…of course I am gonna give them a taste of this. Let’s go cash the chips.

(Carmine and Jimmy gather up the chips and head to the payout booth. Carmine makes conversation on the way to the line for payouts.)

CARMINE: Hey Jimmy, I know you got the money for it…but did you see the number we did on that rompipalle at the Supershow on the Strip? I can’t believe Mikey Gumdrops came in all the way from Brooklyn just to finish the job on Guido the Hut.

(Turns to the camera.)

CARMINE: Or as most of you watching this might know him under the name he used in the witness protection program…Living Dead!

JIMMY: Carmine, we aren’t to mention his name – his name. Now…all he is…is a memory – a memory. Living who –who? Guido what – what? The less you say, the better off we both are – both are.

(Carmine and Jimmy hand the chips over to the cashier. Carmine gets handed a nice stack of cash, holds it up to his ear, and fans through it. He shakes his head that it is all there and hands it to Jimmy. Jimmy takes the bundle of cash, but Carmine hesitates letting it go and they almost have a tug of war over it. Jimmy gives an evil look and Carmine lets it go.)

JIMMY: Don’t worry…we’ll both be back on our feet before you know it – know it. I’ve been scoping out a few projects – projects. Looking at some possibilities to maximize our profitability – profitability. Things are going to be looking up soon, you can bank on that – on that.

CARMINE: Jimmy, I feel like I am coming into my own…like nothin’ can stop me. You and I both know I shoulda’ been in that World title tournament. If it wasn’t for a bunch of bulls(BLEEP), it woulda’ been ME being crowned the first LVW World champion. Donovan got a pass…that’s all I’m gonna say. Enjoy your time at the top, because as soon as I make it up there to face you…your little reign as champ is over! You hear me? OVER!

(Carmine fumes over being left out of the tournament.)

JIMMY: Fahgettaboutit…that no time soon – soon. I got you another match…a debut for some finocchio that bites cameramen - cameramen. I wish I knew more about him, but LVW hasn’t issued a press release on the kid – the kid. Don’t sweat it…I’ll dig up some dirt on this Shadric fella – fella. There has to be somethin’ on Google – Google. Maybe he has a MySpace or something – something.

CARMINE: Mi infischio di lui! I don’t give a damn who it is they put me in the ring against. “The Inferno” is gonna heat things up in LVW! This leccaculo, what’s his name…Shadric? (Grins.)

Shadric listen up real good because you are gonna fall in the category of most that try to prove something in their first match out. You’re gonna have big hopes, big aspirations, you are gonna wanna prove to the matchmakers that you are a top-notch world-class caliber athlete. You are gonna try to convince them that you have staying power…longevity, that you can get over.

But that is where the dream you have becomes a reality. See…I ain’t gonna let you showcase your talents and abilities. I’m gonna shut you down! And you know why? For one…because I can. And two…because I have no other choice. My back is against the wall and you’re the sorry vecchio sporcaccione that has the unenviable task of catchin’ a beatdown.

Jimmy…lets get out of here…this interview is over.


04-21-06, 05:00 PM
"That was one gosh-dang cah-razy party we done had there."

The scene is the VIP Lounge at Mandalay Bay... three days after the conclusion of Supershow on the Strip. Bodies are everywhere, passed out in-between periods of celebratory partying. Vodka bottles, cigarette butts, bongs, beer cans, condom wrappers, razors and mirrors strewn about. Hookers asleep on top of other hookers. A Deadhead passes a joint to a chimpanzee. Two midgets knocked out in the bosom of Bertha, the overweight stripper, with a Chinese finger trap attached on the ends of each of their penises. A giraffe drinks Jagermeister out of a bucket.

And all the while, the NEW Las Vegas Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, Cowboy Jimmy Donovan, sleeps against the bar, apparently naked except for the cowboy hat on his head and the LVW Title Belt over his junk.

Meanwhile, tiptoeing through the debris is a very attractive blonde woman, wearing a navy blue business skirt-suit, black horn-rimmed Weezer glasses and black pumps, holding an LVW microphone. Walking over strippers, hookers, drunks, gamblers, several members of the Blue Man Group, the Gentleman of Leisure and assorted barnyard animals, she slowly but surely makes her way over to the World's Champion. When she finally gets there, she pokes Donovan lightly with her foot.

Woman: Excuse me, Mr. Donovan?

Donovan grumbles and mumbless something along the lines of "mbphph b*tch better have biscuits and gravy mmmbbbthhth."

Woman: Mr. Donovan??

She kicks him a little harder this time, which jolts the Sexual Cowboy to a more awake state.

JD: Huh? Wha? Whut in tarnation...

The Champion looks up at the very arousing sight.

JD: Well I'll be, the party's done startin' up again. An' how much do I gots to pay you fer a good time, sweet thang?

Woman: I am NOT a hooker, Mr. Donovan.

JD: Oh, then is you one of them groupies? The ones I ain't gotsta pay to bang? Daym, I like them ones better...

The woman kicks Jimmy again, this time with a little force behind it.

Woman: I am not going to have sex with you at all. I'm here to interview you in regards to your upcoming match against "Broadway" Johnny Doll.

JD: Whut? They done hired a broad to do them fancy talkin' segments? Well I'll be plum-tuckered!

Jimmy goes to get up, but the woman leans over to stop him.

Woman: First, stop, I don't need any nudity on camera. This is for network television...

Jimmy pushes her away.

JD: Naw, naw, I'm decent.

He pulls the LVW Title away from his midsection to reveal he's wearing a Boomer Sooner OU thong.

Woman: That's.... averts her eyes quickly and mutters "have to be professional, have to be professional, don't look at the man's cock... that's wonderful...

She shakes her head quickly and remembers that she's indignant at him for the sexist comment.

Woman: And secondly... I am not some broad, I am Jenny Green, and I need to get a few words on your upcoming match.

JD: Oh dang, that's right. I gotsta done defend this shiny belt I done won in a match. Well... uhh, first, I wanna say that I done said whut I was gonna done do, and that was win this title in honor of the memory of Fabiola, God rest her extraordinarily good cock-suckin' soul Jenny is aghast, and in special honor of her, durin' the party, I didn't done get no blowjobs from anyone. Sure, I done did everythin' else, like anal an' tossin' salad, and there was this one Oriental hooker who laid underneath a glass table while I done took a....

JG: Alright, alright, that's enough, that's enough. Anyway, onto your opponent.

JD: Oh, Johnny Doll... he's one of them fancy New York types who prolly gots one of them magic lil' boxes he keeps all his phone numbers in, or maybe he's in the witness protection program like that yeller-bellied coward El-Magick-O [Editor's Note: The O is for orgasm] fer killin' hookers. I know all about them types, them dago sons of *****es who come in and smack hookers around cuz they make fun of 'em for havin' small dicks or bein' too greasy. I never go to a hooker who done frequents guidos, cuz they been done ruined fer life.

JG: That's... how can you make all those ethnic slurs against Italians?

JD: Cuz all them Eye-talians are the same! They eat sauce on everythin' and their breath always reeks a' garlic. An' they...

JG: Let's just get back to Broadway Johnny Doll, okay?

JD: Oh, well, okay then, Broadway Johnny Doll, he might done be able to handle crackpot lawyers or sheepish hookers, but when it comes time to tussle with a Champion, does he done have what it takes? Does he have what it takes to tangle with a guy who went more than sixty minutes wit' three of the toughest men in this here company an' won? Hell, when I finally get all sobered up, I'm prolly gonna have the biggest hangover this side of the Pecos too, an' I still doubt he got the Rocky Mountain Oysters to finish me off.

JG: Okay... do you have anything else to say then?

JD: Naw, naw... now if you'll excuse me, if you ain't gonna bang me, then I'm gettin' back to drinkin'.

JG: Ugh... I mean... thanks for your time.

Jenny tiptoes away, trying to keep herself from looking at Jimmy's thonged package. Donovan pops open another bottle of champagne as the screen fades to the LVW logo.

04-22-06, 12:05 AM
Ya see here is the thing. Y'all got a cowboy for a champ. But really what kind of cowboy is he?

Colt is seen riding his Appaloosa towards the camera.

You see I don't think that son of a ***** is any kind of cowboy at all. I mean what has he done to prove that he has the cowboy inside of him?

I mean the ****er goes out and drinks but that is all? Is that cowboy?

Oh not one bit.

I'm out here on the range tending to my herd. He is just wallowing around Las Vegas in an attempt to look tough.

You seem folks I am tough. I am the rawest wrestler here no doubt; but I know how to fight and that's a lesson that my two opponents will learn this week

Bellmoth and Mateo...that's sounds like a bad 70's cover band. You two weak kneed SOB's are going to learn what life is like on the range. You two are going to learn to never ever get in the way of a real cowboy and his goal.

I've managed my whole life to beat all the odds. Well this week is going to be no different. I aim to beat both of this silly little children senseless.

Las Vegas may be the town that shines it's lucky light down on the down trodden and stupid; gut this week the well prepared and dangerous are going to bust the house.

I may be new to this game but make no doubt about it I know how to handle myself in a fight. There may be silly little rules and cute little ropes...but his here ain't nothing but a bar fight in my eyes.

Mateo and Bwellmoth you two are nothing but rasslers trying to cut my head. Well that's a mistake y'all will soon learn to regret.

On the strip I will step up and prove to all the world that not only am I the most dangerous man in LVW I'm the one and only true cowboy.

The Man in Black rides off into the sunset and his destiny.

04-23-06, 12:38 AM
(The Back Halls of The House of Blues: The Camera Crew searches for Shadric)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Dammit, Terry. Why do we always get stuck with freako duty?

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Just lucky I guess.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Yeah...because I am sure it would have nothing to do with what you said about the pit bosses wife the other day.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: How was I supposed to know she already had the surgery. And besides, you said it too.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Yeah. But not directly to here.

(Just then a busboy comes into frame pushing a cart.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Hey pal. You seen a skinny looking punk all dressed in rags and **** around hr somewhere?

BUSBOY: No habla ingle, senor.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Yeah, sure you don't Pasqual. Get a green card, will you?

BUSBOY: Si, senor. Muchos gracias.

(The busboy continues out of frame with his cart.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Hey Dory, I think I hear something.


OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Over here. C'mon.

(The camera hurries down a hallway until it comes upon a row of metal trash cans. A pair of dirty bare feet hang out of a raggedy pair of pants that - in turn - hang out of one of the far trash can. The sounds of eating can be heard. from the inside of the can.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Well ain't that a sight.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Guess we found him then.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: So do you want to get his attention or shall I?

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: It's all you, man.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Thanks, jerk bomb.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Well, you shouldn't have asked then.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: True enough. (Calling out) Hey, Shadric!

(Shadric doesn't respond.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Hey man, we gotta do an interview with you here!

(Shadric doesn't respond)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Maybe if you called him like you were calling a dog?

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: That's ridiculous.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Is it? Just give it a try. Call out "Here boy"

(#2 sighs)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: C'mon, do it.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: You do it.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: P**sy. (calling out) Here boy.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: You gotta do it louder than that.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: Hey, you're the one that's supposed to be getting him.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Dammit Terry. Let's do it together then.


(Together Terry and Dory start shout out "here boy" as whistling and clapping as if they were calling a dog. Finall Shadric looks up out of the trash can and sees them.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: There we go. (To Shadric) Yo man, come here. We gotta interview you.

(Shadric hesitates. He sniffs the air.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: C'mon, Shadric. Who's the good boy? Who's the good boy?

(Shadric taks a step twards then]m and then stops.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: It's okay boy. It's okay.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2 (softly): Geez, what an idiot.

(Shadric heres this and snarls a bit. He grabs the closest trash can and hurls it at the camera - striking it full in the lens.)


(The camera regains focus a second later, but Shadric is gone.)

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Where'd he...?

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #1: You shouldn't have called him an idiot. Dogs are very sensitive critters - plus they have good hearing.

OFF-CAMERA VOICE #2: Stupid mutt.

04-25-06, 08:04 PM
"If it ain't the ol' MAN IN BLACK."

(Fadein, Erik Mateo sweepin' up the back patio of the bar he works at.)

EM: Ya know...fer somebody who thinks that the names of myself and WINGNUT sounds like a bad '70s cover band, do us a faver first, eh??

Finish callin' tha' pot, a kettle black first...'least ah' think that's right....

I mean hey...you wanna get all fussy about it, fine...you sound like a bad movie rental.

But that's not why ah' ah'greed to partake in 'dis shindig.

People go to Vegas to see morons beat tha' hell outta each other because they think that they're better than tha' other and pin hopes on a whim that they might be right.


Ah' KNOW it.

Which is why the boss is payin' me in tha' first place ta' be here.

You think that yer the rawest rassler??

Son I just like ta' fight.

You think that yer dangerous an' wanna prove it??

Fine by me....

Just do me a faver when yer through??

Don't forget to rewind.

The good parts are just 'round tha bend.


04-26-06, 09:22 AM
Colt sits quietly at the end of a bar sipping from a mug of beer. The jukebox plays Hank Jrs "Country Boy Can Survive" in the background. Irishred finishes his beer and looks up at the camera.

Ya see folks here's the thing. I love nothing more then a good old scrap. I mean it gets the old blood a pumping doesn't it?

I mean it's not for everyone that's for sure. I mean you take a look at that little old broom pusher Erick Mateo. This child thinks that he is a fighter. Hell boy that broom was whipping your ass.

When you and Bell Mouth jar step into the ring with this here Cowboy you two are going to come to a very simple realization. There's one hell of a big difference between saying you can fight and actually getting the deal done.

I've fought talkers from all over the country on the rodeo circuit. I've cleaned bars up in small towns when the locals decided they should "talk" to me and try to intimidate me. I've made men badder then either of you eat their words one at a time.

In this world you have people who talk the talk and you have people who walk the walk. Well let me tell you this one final truth. The Man in Black walks the walk leaving nothing but blood and guts in his path.

I'll se y'all in the ring kids. Then we'll see how far your talking gets you.

Colt slides off his bar stool and leaves the bar and the camera fades to black.

04-26-06, 08:32 PM
(Fadein, Mateo's bar, late evening. Mateo, flipping a coin with one hand while resting against the bar counter smiles and shakes his head, as the music plays in the backround.)

EM: Ya know sumpin' there, Colt? In a few ways, we're alotta like, me an' you. We both like drankin', we both like fightin'...and we both like Hank.

(Mateo motions to the Jukebox, which plays "Tear In My Beer".)

But yer one undecisive sum*****, you know dat??

One second, you're tha' most rawest person in this place, the next...you've been in fights all over tha' place an' know me 'for you even get up close an' personal.

Piss off ya dirty punk, you knowin' me is like you thinkin' that you stand a chance against me, PERIOD.

You don't, and you know it.

See, you look at-me with a broom in my hand and think that that's all ah-do 'round here.


See, donkeh-boy, I might not OWN this-here bar....but I do RUN IT.

I don't haveta go ANYWHERE to pick ah-fight....ANYWHERE comes to ME.

You can-be intimidated by me or not, ah don't much give ah-damn.

But you take tha' ONE TIME you've seen meh' in tha' ring an' ASS-hume...all-ya wantah that ah-mah badass, it makes not much difference tah' me.

'Cuz when we're all through here, an' tha' dust settles...it's just another step towards another prize fer' me.

And more money.

Ya bettah-believe it, pal...moneh-does make tha' world go 'round, but tha' prizes that go WITH IT.....makes it more fun.

But enough of dat....you an' yer' monkeh' friend Curous Jorge go do whatcha' gots tah' do.

I will be-ah waitin' fer' ya.


04-28-06, 12:11 AM
(FADEIN: A giant top hat sits on a stage. A pair of gloved hands reach out, but then fall back in. They reach back out and someone appears to be climbing over the top, but then the hat tips over and EL MAGICK-O spills out. He does a roll to the front of the stage and bows. He's wearing a green top hat that's obviously attached to his head and a blue outfit with red and white stars and comets streaking across it.)

EL MAGICK-O: Folks, I was lying in bed with a pair of women the other night at the Palms Casino and Hotel Resort, and when I looked up and realized that they both were much more attractive when I was drunk and trying escape from a pot of boiling oil, I knew the dark ages were closer than I'd thought.

I've shamed all my Himalayan masters to taught me to defy the 4th dimension and my Mafia bookmakers to whom I swore my winning the LVW World title was a sure bet.

And now....now that cowboy is ruling this promotion and ushering in an era of black mist and horror. Imagine. We're on the cusp of hillbillies invading and taking over. All because the dark lords have acted through James Donovan.

But rest assured, my magical training and knowledge will save us all yet. It has certainly put the "O" in orgasm when I hit that magic spot on that special lady I keep in every city I tour through, and their daughters for that matter.

Yet, to save the LVW....and the world...I'll have to resort to the blackest...the foulest magics..the types that James Donovan has experimented with...and not experimented with in the "I didn't know he was a man and hey I was in college" way.

No. But as with whips and chains and leather masks, I still know what I'm doing.

Which is why..my greatest feat ever...my greatest work of magic in my lifetime...will happen during James Donovan's first title defense.

I will show him that we will stand against cowboys and the darkness.

I will show him that he should loaned me spare change to ride the bus.

I will pull back the curtains between life and death....between our world and all others...and you will all witness..

(Closeup on El Magick-O)


04-29-06, 05:02 PM
(FADEIN: A small Vegas airport. A private jet crawls along a runway harnessed to HANS NOWAK’s waist. MISS ANN leans out of a cockpit window, barking encouragement at her steed. The plane itself hasn’t been off the ground in ten years. Actual flying would get HANS across the globe quicker, but you don’t build superhuman strength by taking the life of luxury, and riding on air taxis littered with peasants. HANS’s knees are bent, the folded halves of his legs nearly fusing together. His face, the pride of single mothers in Poland, is a rain shower of warning. The life of a strongman and Vegas wrestler isn’t all appearance fees, celebrity, and quality free *****. No, there’s a real struggle burning inside of the man. Every step HANS takes he, and Miss Ann, question. The weight of a nation rests on his shoulders. He took the burden flippantly, but there’s a part of him that wonders if he choose poorly. If he wouldn’t be more happy on farmland, raising goats, and chickens and things. HANS loves children. Growing up in Poland he wanted to be that guy on the television he saw every morning before school. The man who talked to puppets and spoke of American movies, the importance of morality, and embracing each kid for their unique differences. He wanted to be a children’s entertainer.

Thankfully, that part of HANS died the day he lifted 300 lbs clear over his head as if it were a toothpick, and then banged an impressed fan afterwards. Kids are great and all, but they couldn’t appreciate the magnificence of HANS’ achievement.)

MISS ANN: Almost home, stallion. You have almost returned us home! Feel me ride! Feel me riding you! You massive beast!

(HANS groans and the Earth stands still for a moment. Three feet from the Strongman Champion, a Limo driver stands with a “Welcome back to Vegas” sign in his hands. HANS stares into the cardboard, trying to will himself past it. He’s never failed. The pain, the humiliation of being stopped short, drives the Beast to carry his submissive on his back. This is the hard, cold work to being a Vegas legend, and he’s putting in the numbers right now. HANS lifts his right leg up an inch off the ground, his eyes shut, his face reddening. The weight of a nation…the weight of a nation…)

MISS ANN: ANDRES! (Miss Ann claps!)

(The driver takes two steps forward, now a foot behind HANS, and the champion collapses, letting out a roar that would stop a lion in it’s tracks.)

MISS ANN: YES! YES! HANS you have brought us back to American wasteland, a city we will soil and burn until it’s ours to play with as we will. The journey was long, very long, yes, but we are home. HANS…(Miss Ann steps off the plane) HANS speak before you ravish me as part of MY training.

(HANS, beat to hell ,and sweating as if he’s just spent eight hours in a sauna, finds the strength to stand.)


(HANS face plants into the cement, out like a light.)

MISS ANN: Andres. Drag HANS into car, and prepare a clean urine sample for LVW drug test.

ANDRES: You expect me to move….THAT? (He points to HANS fallen mass)

MISS ANN: No, I expect you to do as you’re told. Get him to the car. I will instill life back in the Beast. With my breasts, the nectar of which inspires him.


MISS ANN: Put the big, sleeping idiot in the car. Damn, rented help.


05-01-06, 10:31 AM
Colt takes a big dip of chew before beginning to speak.

Ya' see there's a big old difference between hearing and listening. I said I was the rawest wrestler in LVW. You heard that I couldn't fight. I said I have fought all over the states in bar brawls. You heard me contradict myself.

If you truly listen to the world around you you will hear a lot more.

When I am pummeling you in that ring really take the time to listen to your body. Hear that it is telling you to quit. Hear that and obey that. You'll be able to come back and fight another day then. You'll be doing your career a favor. You need to listen son.

Here in LVW I have a chance to harness that raw ability. Here in LVW I have the opportunity to gain the fame in the wrestling ring that I had on the PBR. I don't need the fame. I don't need the accolades; but I do need and demand the respect of everyone I step into the ring with.

I will have that from you...one way or another.

See you in the ring son...this will be a fight...and who knows...some wrestling may happen too.

Mad Dog
05-02-06, 12:52 AM
(FADEIN to Jimmy Two Times surfing the internet and Carmine looking over his shoulder.)

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Carmine, I did a full internet search of this kid and came up with nothing - nothing. The only update I have for you is he tried to bite another guy holding a camera - camera. Every search I do on him brings up pictures of some fruit in a cowboy hat and animated buffaloes - buffaloes. (http://www.shadric.com/)

CARMINE ESPOSITO: AHHHH! This is killing me. Who is this guy? And why do I have to face the finnoch? You set this thing up...DO SOMETHIN'!

JIMMY: Carmine, believe me...I did it will good intentions - intentions. I knew we had a chunk of change to payback to my Uncle Gino and anytime we can make some cash to pay the debt back...I jump at the chance - jump at the chance.

CARMINE: Look...I'm getting fed up with this treatment I am receiving in LVW. I have been nothing but a class act from DAY ONE and they put me in a match against someone named Shadric...and this is who I get to work with to enhance my abilities? I THINK NOT! I want better...I need more. You think it was easy pulling that top notch match out of Living De.....

JIMMY: Remember...we mustn't mention what happened - happened. We can;t discuss this outside of the Family - the Family.

CARMINE: Sorry. But you saw what I did at the SuperShow on the Strip. I shined like no other and cemented myself as the go to guy in LVW! So what do I get as a reward? Shadric. Shadric? (Shakes his head.) Where is the love? I now know how Dangerfield felt his whole life...I GET NO RESPECT!

JIMMY: Simmer down, Carmine - Carmine. Don't let this effect your gameplan for the match - the match.

CARMINE: DOn't worry about me. I am in THE ZONE right now and its like I am seeing everything happen before it really does. For instance, in this match I see myself popping this gumba upside the head with the I-19 and then yelling out bingo on his scrifinnio ass! I'm not being stepped on anymore and after I ship this sorry finnocchio ass off back to where he came from...LVW won't have any choice...they can't ignore me anymore!

05-02-06, 07:43 PM
(Fadein, Erik Mateo sitting down with his feet up on a bar table, beer in hand.)

EM: Ah'm not gon' sit here an' argur' over tha' literary meanins' of the English language, ya (BLEEP!), it's jes' not worth mah' time...

Fact is, ya say tomateh, Ah-say tomatah, it makes not much of-ah difference ta' me.

Ah'm here fer' one reason an' one reason only...Moneh', and prizes.

An' who says Ah' haveta respect ya ta' beatcha' anywhay??

You're the only thang in tha' way of anotha' chump whose' guardin' mah' moneh.

So go'head an' talk yer' talk...don' mean much tah' meh' but jus' anotha' chump tryin' tah' get tha' expense-express train over ever'one else.

We'll see whose bettah' and whose' jus' talkin'.

But Ah' don' been drankin' fer' years, now....an' one thing Ah'never be...is yer' SON.

Call meh' that' 'gain, an' we'll see which one-'us gets tha' whippin'.

05-03-06, 11:59 PM
(The Camera Crew is back again. And again they are searching for Shadric)

DORY (OS): God God, I have no idea why they have us out looking for this goofy little geek again. It's not like he's going to last out the week once Carmine Esposito gets done wiping the mat with him.

TERRY (OS): You don't think?

DORY: Look kid, I've been in this business for a while and I know a short timer when I see one. This dog boy is a one-and-done enhancement act. They got no lans for him.

TERRY: Then why did they finally gethis bio up on the website?

DORY: This bunch has a website?

TERRY: Well, it's really more of a message board. But I swear I saw Shadrics stats up there earlier today.

DORY: Still.... That don't change the fact that Carmine is going to snap his twiggy neck in two this week.

TERRY: I guess not.

(Suddenly a small grey cat races past Dory the camera guys.)

TERRY: Look out, Dor....

DORY: What the....?

(Shadric comes flying into frame after the cat. He slams full force into the camera and the crew goes tumbling the the floor. Shadric keeps going after the cat.)

DORY: OWW!!! Stupid little son of a....

TERRY: You know, for a twiggy little geek, he sure can pack a wallop.

DIRY: Shut up.

Mad Dog
05-04-06, 11:52 PM
(FADEIN to Jimmy Two Times sitting at a desk surfing the internet. He goes to the LVW website and sees an updated bio on Shadric.)

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Hey Carmine...I got something - got something! I found Shadric's bio - bio. (Chuckles.) You ain't gonna have no problem with this guy...just look at him - look at him.

(Carmine walks over to the computer terminal and laughs.)

CARMINE ESPOSITO: Jimmy, that's funny and all how you want to book me in a maqtch against a reject from the carnival...but come on...this is ridiculous. How could LVW let a dog-boy into this prestigious and respectful organization? Did he get checked for rabies!?

JIMMY: Hey look...there is a link to a video clip of his last vignette - vignette. The guy is crazy...I'm not sure you should face this kid...it could hurt your chances at being the top guy in LVW...a risk I'm not sure I'm willing to take - to take.

CARMINE: Jimmy...I am on a roll, baby. What's my record here? 3 and 0? 4 and 0? I lost count.

JIMMY: Ummmm...try 2 and 4 pal - pal.

CARMINE: You sure thats right? Did you carry the 1?

JIMMY: What...there are no 1's to carry - to carry.

CARMINE: Ya know...just forget the record. Look at what I have done to the last two cats that tried to test my stugots? They found out real fast that when my back is against the wall...the people trying to corner me get laid out...period. So when I first got to LVW...I wasn't exactly on my game. I had a lot of distractions...but all that is gone now. I'm focused, Jimmy. Believe that.

JIMMY: I got all the faith in the world in you, kid...I wouldn't be here if I didn't - if I didn't.

CARMINE: Well enough of this ass-kissing. Get off that damn computer and let me check the line at horsebook.com for the Kentucky Derby. I really like Deputy Glitters to win.

JIMMY: What are you stupid - stupid? Glitters is 60 to 1 odds to win - to win. (Jimmy thinks to himself for a moment.) Yeah...so you wanna bet the Derby? Throw your action my way...I'll give you a free $100 Arena Football 5 team parlay as a bonus for your bet - your bet. You know I'm lookin' out for you - for you.

CARMINE: You know I throw all my business your way, Jimmy. You are the only trustworthy bookie in Vegas. All those other guys will rip you off without even thinking about it.

JIMMY: That's right, Carmine...trustworthy bookie...I like that - like that. Yeah, check the line and don't forget to hit me up on Saturday for the wager - the wager. (Smiles)

CARMINE: For you Jimmy...anything. After I check the lines I gonna go hit the weights. This dog-boy better not pull any funny business. As soon as he tries to chew any part of my anatomy, I'm gonna knock the finocchio's teeth right down his hairball-filled throat!


The Great Eye
05-10-06, 11:32 PM
All Rp Here. Rp deadline May 21st at 11:59 PST

The Great Eye
05-10-06, 11:33 PM
The Bracelet is on the line. All Rp Here. Rp deadline May 21st at 11:59 PST

The Great Eye
05-10-06, 11:34 PM
All Rp Here. Rp deadline May 21st at 11:59 PST

The Great Eye
05-10-06, 11:34 PM
All Rp Here. Rp deadline May 21st at 11:59 PST

05-14-06, 10:16 PM
(Drumroll as the curtains fly open on stage. EL MAGICK-O, in a yellow bodysuit streaked with orange and red stars and comets struts out, wearing a red, satin cape and holding a long, red top hat. He pushes his hand inside and pulls out.....a dead rabbit. CLOSEUP: The rabbot's eyes are glassy and still, and its little tongue is lolling out of its mouth.)

EL MAGICK-O(sighing): Not another one. I have to learn to pull rabbits out of hats before they suffocate.

(He tosses the dead rabbit over his shoulder and the camera angle widens to show a huge pile of dead rabbits behind him at exit stage right.)

(CUTTO: El Magick-O.)

EL MAGICK-O: Rest assured, I'll be pulling more out of a hat than a dead rabbit, and much more from out of my sleeve to combat the evil Cowboy James Donovan. You've seen me raise the dead, you've seen escape from, the clutches of unbreakable wrestling holds, and you've seen prove me that none of those 14 children were actually biologically mine!

And soon, very soon, you'll see perform my greatest feat ever and win the coveted LVW World Heavyweight Championship. Of course, I want the prestige, the money, the glory, and the fact that it will get me booked in much better clubs where I can hit on even richer widows.

But most of all, I need to win the LVW World title because Donovan's deals with devils and dark forces have sent the entire world on the brink of the apocalypse! The end times are now!

Look at the signs!

People actually think the Da Vinci Code is real! George W Bush thinks he's doing a good job as president! Lindsay Lohan is dating Bret Raetner! And she denies it! I have a 52 year old woman claiming i gave her herpes and another who says I accidently slept with her 14 year old daughter!

Hey, I can't help it if her haircut made her look more mature and she was wearing a business suit! How could I not think she was at least 16?

Like all good things, it has to be earned. I didn't start off headlinign with Wayne Newton opening for me. And I have to win this tag team match to help win the title and save the world.

Of course there's others who want the world title. Everyone wants to be champion. A Man in Black, a Cowboy, and Carmine.

Well, Carmine, every great magician needs an assistant. I'm sure you're new at this, so just follow my instructions and we'll saw off Donovan's legs. He'll have to give me a title shot if he wants me to re-attach them, and hey, maybe I can give you one too!

Only remember, I need to win this match and the title. For you, for me, and for the world.

05-15-06, 08:02 PM
"Well I'll be..."

We fade into a corner bar... they have those in Vegas? Well, they do in this promo! :p Cowboy Jimmy Donovan sits, slumped over the bar, double shot of Jack Daniels in one hand, Johnny Walker Black on the rocks in the other. You know something's wrong when he's doublefisting the brown liquor instead of penetrating the brown beaver.

JD: Y'know pardner, I feel lower than a bow-legged caterpillar right 'bout now. I done got erryone in the dang company gunnin' fer me, I done got laid out at the end of the show by that hooker murderin' polecat El-Magick-O (Editor's note: The O is for orgasm!), an' to add insult to that thar injury, he done turned mah blowjob queen into a hairy man!

He takes down the double shot of Jack with ease.

JD: I ain't wanna get no oral pleasurin' from no man... I ain't never done nothin' like that in my life, 'cept when I was in Kuala Lumpur, but that boy done looked like a girl, and he had purty lips too... but I promised mahself I wouldn't talk 'bout that no more.

Swigs the JWB down, finishing half the glass in one sip.

JD: An' it looks like I got half the dang company after me. I gots a bullseye on mah back, hell, even mah partner wants to take me down. I feel like the lonesomest coyote out there in the desert.

Downs the other half of his JWB.

JD: Hey barkeep, kin' I get another round?

Bartender takes Jimmy's glasses.

JD: Thank ya, pardner. Anyway, I done feel like I'm the lowest dang person in the world. You ever feel like that?

The camera pans to the right, showing an Asian tourist in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera around his neck.

ATiaHSwaCahN: You cowboy! I take pictcha!

JD: Yer right! I am a cowboy! I'm Cowboy Jimmy Donovan! YEEEEEE-HAW! Hey barkeep! Cancel them drinks!

Bartender: But I already poured 'em.

JD: Well, give 'em to that nip.

Bartender: Alright.

ATiaHSwaCahN: That booze! I take pictcha!

JD: The only help I need is in the form of that sweeeeet poontang! YEEEE-HAWWW!!

Jimmy looks around the bar, looking for poontang. He spots what he thinks is a woman of loose moral fiber sitting in the corner. Jimmy moseys on over to the woman.

JD: Ex-keee-yoooose me ma'am, but are you a prostitute?

Loose woman: Why yes, yes I am. How did you guess?

JD: Well, I done gots a sixth sense about these things. How's about I give you twenty bucks to go drill you like West Texas in the bathroom.

LW: Sure.

Jimmy hands her a Jackson, and they go into the bathroom. Five minutes later, the Popeye theme bursts and Jimmy busts out of the bathroom, flexing his muscles.


singing I'll knock you to Venus
When a whore's on mah penis
I'm Jimmy the Cowboy Man!


ATiaHSwaCahN: You got syphiris! I take pictcha!

JD: I'm back to mah old self! It's time to go and kick some mobster and queer magician ass!

Jimmy runs out of the bar as the scene fades to the LVW logo.

05-15-06, 11:35 PM
(Our favorite cameramen, Terry and Dory are out on assignment again.)

DORY: So, who we got this week?

TERRY: Dog boy....again.

DORY: He's still here???

TERRY: Looks that way.

DORY: Damn. You'd think he'd learn this ain't for him after the way Esposito beat him down last week. Well I guess it's true what they say about teaching old dogs new stuff.

TERRY: Uh...Dory. He really doesn't strike me as that old a dog.

DORY: Wll he's going to end up a dead dog if he keeps stepping into the ring against guys like Carmine Esposito and Ricky Zane.

TERRY: What? You know crap about this Zane guy?

DORY: Not really. But he has to be better than Shadric the Dog Boy.

TERRY: Speaking of which. Any idea where we might find him?

DORY: Who cares? Let's go grab a brew.

TERRY: Sounds good.

(The camera heads off to the bar.)

05-16-06, 08:58 PM
"An' they said it was gon' be fair..."

(Fadein, Erik Mateo in front of an old-fashioned, casino-style version of an LVW backdrop.)

EM: They said he's in it fer' tha' fight...an' ta make himself KNOWN...

When all he turn' out ta be was jes' another P*SSY with ah-cheap shot...

Isn't that right Colt??

(Mateo waves his right index finger in a disapproving manner.)

Ah told-ya before we stepped in tha' ring what it was about fer' meh' comin' ta' this match...an' ya couldn't stand it when it didn't go yer way.

Next time, just skip tha' match altogether an' stamp yer feet like a lil' kid with a tantrum an' get over it.

One way or 'nother...ah beat'cha in that match an' ya know it.

But because Ah'm ah good man 'bout it...ya can stay up this week 'bout half an' hour later than yer usual bedtime ta watch me beat up Spanish Fly.

But ya still don't get'cher dessert.

Now...ontah somethin' more IMPORTANT.

What ah-planned on, when ah walked into this place.

An' that's the cash an' tha' good-lookin' trophies they got waitin' for ya's after tha' fact.

So far....half o' it has been good tah' me.

But ol' Erik was never one ta' go out an' get...well...shhheeeeiiit....what's that ol' Walter was talkin' 'bout ah few days back?? Oh yeah....


An' YOU...Mister Chicken Dumpling-fer-five-ninety-nine....YOU have it, an' have tha' mos' disturbin' challenge yet...fer' yer' first DEFENSE.

How it was ya' did that...is beyon' me.

But it won't keep me from takin' it from ya...I can promise ya that.

05-18-06, 04:34 PM
(Scene shows Ricky Zane in his in-house interview stage, complete with lighting and a personal camera crew)

ZANE: I asked to be given the world title. Its not much to ask. Its not like the title carries with it a legacy of greatness. It was won by a dopey retard in an equally dopey and retarded title tournement. I am a pateint man, but even my pateince has been stretched to the limits by LVW upper management who are content in just seeing what happens rather than taking some initiative and doing something that can put LVW on the map. So another week goes by, another week where Ricky Zane isn’t the world champion, another box office flop and ratings nightmare, and here I am fighting… a dog. I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall when promoters drew up this abortion of a wrestling show. I’m sure they were all sitting around, drool hanging from their scraggly beards, the aroma of cigarettes and failure filling the room, when one mongoloid idiot said “Hey!!! I got it, I have a plan that will SAVE LVW.. lets have Ricky Zane wrestle… a dog.” Now, I’m not sure whos more at fault. The braindead doofus who came up with the idea or the other bookers who didn’t put a bullet in his head when he presented the idea to them. You guys have a money maker, a golden cash cow whos brought riches to even the most inept of federations. I’ve worked in federations run by chimpazees and made BILLIONS for those primates, because even they knew a good thing when they saw it. Within a month Ricky Zane was champ, and Ricky Zane was running the show. I had PPVS in my honor, I did everything to make these federations flourish, which I did. And when I left, so did the fans, the ratings and eventually the company. Wake up upper-management. Take 10 minutes out of your daily whacking off and bologna speed eating contests to DO THE RIGHT THING. Put the belt on the waist of a fitting champion… and since I’m the only wrestler in this organization with championship credentials… (winks) well the storyline writes itself.

ZANE: Now as for Shadric the dog… eh… nevermind.


05-20-06, 11:44 PM
(Shadric rolls in his own crap. The Camera Crew is disgusted.)

DORY: Damn. Look at that f**king freak.

TERRY: Yeah. That's f**king nasty.

DORY: I mean...why...? What's the f**king purpose?

TERRY: I guess it's something dogs f**king do.

DORY: No. Not that. I mean why the f**k is he even f**king here? I mean it's not like he can even f**king wrestle. He can't even put a coherrent f**king thought together. I mean he's a complete f**king loop job.

TERRY: I dunno. I guess he f**king works f**king cheap or f**king something.

DORY: I f**king guess he f**king must.


DORY: Huh?

TERRY: Sorry. I couldn't think of anything else.

DORY: All I know is that it sound like this Zane guy is going to kill him worse than Esposito did last week.

TERRY: Yeah.... Poor mutt.

DORY: What? You feel bad for him?

TERRY: Don't you?

DORY: Hell no. He's a f**king freak. Freaks got no business trying to share the same air as me. I hate f**king freaks.

TERRY: I guess.... But look at him.

DORY: What about him?

TERRY: I dunno. He just looks so happy rolling in his own sh*t like that.

DORY: Good God. You're not going ask mom if you can take him home are you?

TERRY: Um...no.... God no. No way, man.

DORY: Good. Because I get the feeling that he's going to get taken out behind the shed and shot after this week anyway

Mad Dog
05-23-06, 01:23 AM
(FADEIN to Carmine Esposito lying on his stomach with a towel over his lower back on what appears to be a massage table.)

CARMINE ESPOSITO: So everyone has been asking me, “hey Carmine…when is LVW going to give you the respect you deserve”? And “yo Carmine…what’s up with that cowboy as the World champ…what a disgrace”!

Their words…not mine.

See Jimmy Donovan…I heard you out here a couple of weeks ago on LVW Television and you were running your mouth about your opponent…whoever the hell that was…and you made a blanket statement about Italians that I found personally offensive. For those of you at home that don’t remember…because I’m sure you automatically tune out whenever that inbred hillbilly comes out on TV. Roll it.

(CUTTO a clip from the promo Donovan cut against Johnny Doll.)

JD: I know all about them types, them dago sons of *****es who come in and smack hookers around cuz they make fun of 'em for havin' small dicks or bein' too greasy. I never go to a hooker who done frequents guidos, cuz they been done ruined fer life.

JG: That's... how can you make all those ethnic slurs against Italians?

JD: Cuz all them Eye-talians are the same! They eat sauce on everythin' and their breath always reeks a' garlic. An' they...

(CUTTO Carmine lying on the table, looking up at the camera.)

CARMINE: See…this is where my problem sits, Jim-bo. You come out on national television and you defecate on my heritage? You minchione!

And then you have the audacity to talk about my penis size? (Shakes his head.) Donovan...always knew something wasn't right with you...and it explains a lot considering I thought I caught you tryin' to take a look at my manhood at the bathroom urinals last week.

You are indeed a sick sick man.

You overindulge yourself on cheap whores to cover up your male inadequacies and also to give you a piss-poor attempt at covering up your homosexuality. Don’t think I don’t know about salad-tossin’…you sick freak…I do TiVo the Sopranos. You f(BLEEP)in’ finnochio! You seem awfully comfortable talking about such things…as if its second-nature too you. You’re just the same as the wobbly fat f(BLEEP) that got whacked this week for taking it up the scassacazzo on the Sopranos!

I’m glad I get to confront you face to face this week….albeit a tag match with some freak in a Merlin costume…at least I get to showcase my abilities for the world to see. And in the process expose you for being a paper champion and a closet finnoch!

(A beautiful Japanese woman walks into the room and Carmine ceases his comments. She gets right to business and rubs down Carmine’s back. Carmine lays his head down and enjoys the massage.

Moments later a rather large woman enters the room and wheels in a cart with a variety of cosmetic devices. The hefty woman waves the Japanese girl off and stares at Carmine.)

CARMINE: Hey…don’t stop it Yoko. You might have broken up the Beatles…but you know how to make daddy feel just right.

(The large woman straps Carmine’s wrists to the side of the massage table.)

WOMAN: (In a husky accented voice.) Daddy will feel much better after this.

(Carmine tries to jump up when he hears her voice, but to no avail. The woman puts on rubber gloves and begins stirs something in what appears to be a miniature crock-pot. Before she goes further, Jimmy Two Times enters the room.)

CARMINE: YOU BETRAYED ME!!! But why? I was making good on my debt. I was starting to make things happen. Come on, Jimmy…don’t whack me…I don’t wanna go out like this! Not in some cheap health spa strapped to a table with what appears to be Hans Nowak in drag! Come on, Jimmy…I can make things right.

JIMMY TWO TIMES: Shut up, you idiot – you idiot. This isn’t a hit – a hit! This is something I knew you wouldn’t wanna do – wanna do. Carmine…it’s about your marketability…the back hair has to go – to go. You are a potential contender to the World heavyweight championship…act like it and look like it – look like it.

CARMINE: But it’s my identity…it makes me the wonderful person I am today. (Grins nervously.)

JIMMY: Hey, Nowak in drag…do it – do it!

(The large woman begins to apply wax Carmine’s back and Jimmy speaks to the camera while Carmine groans in agony behind him.)

JIMMY: While Carmine handles his business, I want to address another individual in this competition – competition. El Magick-O…let me make something perfectly clear to you…that way I don’t have to repeat myself – repeat myself.

(Jimmy gives an odd look at the camera after his last remark.)

Anyways…if you wanna use my guy Carmine as your assistant…well like everything else…it’s gonna cost ya – gonna cost ya. We don’t chop people up usually unless a meat grinder is involved…capiche – capiche?

And a job of that magnitude is gonna cost you a bundle…more than you could string up in 6 months of performances opening up for your pals Siegfried and Roy – Siegfried and Roy.

As for Donovan, your days reigning on top of LVW are about to come to an end – an end. Our people founded this great city with money from dumb stramaledettos like you who were stupid enough to never know when to quit and walk away while they are still up – are still up. People like you bankrolled this entire town and just like the great Italians in the past did…your gonna bankroll my operation one way or another – another. Unfortunately for you it will come at a hefty price…the LVW World title – title. You can bank on that – on that. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow…but soon…real soon – real soon.

(Carmine screams in the background and starts cursing in Italian. Jimmy shakes his head at Carmine’s misfortune and waves his hand across his throat for the camera to cut.)


05-25-06, 05:17 PM
Colt walks into the arena with a saddle bag over his shoulder. He is covered in dust. He grabs a booking sheet and walks into his locker room. He throws his saddle bag to the ground, tears the booking sheet into shreds and sits down before looking up at the camera.

Ain't this just a bunch of sh**? I have to team up with the damn world champion against a freaking clown and juvi hall reject. Really ain't this just a bunch of sh**?

I mean come on people. Why in God's name would y'all team me with that silly parody of a "cowboy"? For Pete's sake that greenhorn wouldn't last ten minutes in my world. That silly sum***** doesn't know a gelding from a fillie but he runs around claiming to be a cowboy. Quite frankly he's a worthless as tits on a bull.

But I'm nothing if not loyal. I've been stuck with the piece of dead weight this week so I'll do my best to not let him get his ass kicked. That really shouldn't be a problem though. I mean what the hell kind of damage are David Blaine and Uncle Paulie going to inflict on anyone let alone the world champ and one bad ass hick from the Badlands?

This reminds me of this one time sitting in a bar in Cheyenne Wyoming on the circuit. Now Cheyenne is a rough and tumble kind of town still to this day. So in walks this two damn hippies doing some sort of documentary on the pain inflicted on the animals in the PRCA. These two little city slickers come in and start yammering on about how we were nothing but animal abusers. They went on and on about how we were taking advantage of living beings that couldn't defend themselves. They were even so bold as to say that we were cowards.

Now where I'm from them's fighting words. I rose up and walked up on these two little hippies and you should have seen their pacifist little faces once they realized they had crossed the line. Now I didn't hurt 'em. That just wouldn't be fair. I mean they were at a huge disadvantage. But I did show them just how dangerous a thousand pound animal can be. They sure didn't like being in that pen with that bull. They sure didn't like it at all. But here's the thing...they learned a lesson.

They learned that you simply don't mess with what you don't know. David...Paulie...you two absolutely have no idea what you are messing with this week. But you're gonna find out. You'll find out for sure.

Now go on git that dang camera out of here. I got a shower to take. I've go a hundred miles of trail covering my body.

The camera fades out as Colt begins to strip down for his shower.

05-25-06, 10:39 PM
(FADEIN: A large tank of water visible through its glass walls stands on a stage. EL MAGICK-O, soaking wet and wearing a towel, sist on the stage apron. His outfit and mask are orange with yellow suns and comets. He smokes a cigarette as the camera focuses on him from the chest up.)

EL MAGICK-O: That's right. Yeah. (nods head.) Show me the "O". I showed you how to find it last night and then I made it disappear. You got the rabbit out of my hat. Thatttt's it!

(A woman stands up in front of El Magick-O, wiping her mouth with a handerkief and then shakes his hand.)

WOMAN: I'll see you in a few months when my other shows turns 9. He loves magic even more than my other son.

EL MAGICK-O: And it's too bad your husband doesn't like it at all. I'm quite the entertainer.

(He takes out another cigarette and smokes two a once. The woman licks the side of his masked face and walks away. El Magick-O jumps up and pulls up a pair of pants and belts them. His bodysuited calves stick out and you wonder how he got his member out in the first place since there's no fly. he paces up and down in fron the water tank.)

There I was trapped in that tank of water. My feet were cuffed to its ceiling and I was haning upside down out of air. That woman's son and all his friends were yelling for me to suffocate. The cold water momentarily knocked senseless and the lack of air was getting to me.

I had forgotten how to escape. My whole life flashed before my eyes.

I saw myself pulling my first rabbit out of a hat to impress that sixteen year-old girl when I was eleven. I saw myself forgetting to use a condom and then pushing her down those stairs.

I saw myself paying that smart asian chap to take my SAT's for me. I saw myself climbing the Himalayas and learning at the feet of the wise men the arts of magic and illusion.

I saw myself climb to heaven and down into hell. I fought demons and angels. I soared through the future and the past.

I saw myself wrestling. I pinned a God With 60 Arms. I made an Elephant Devil submit to an armbar. And I saw myself pinning Cowboy James Donovan and winning the LVW world heavyweight title.

I saw myself saving the world from evil cowboys and zombies rising up at his command.

I also saw that woman who just went on me flashing me her cleavage. Within moments, I had escaped and we rushed all those young lads out since she owed me some head after I had made my rabbit disappear down her hole all night!

I always escape. I always win....in the end.

There is nothing beyond my reach. I've learned from the greatest mystics...the most sagicious of monks.....and I learned how to wrestle from that Mexican man with a beard who only charged me 23 dollars.

But most of all, no matter what show, I always, always dazzle.

Even in a tag match.

Its just a prelude to my masterufl performace in winning that coveted title.

Everyone else in the match is just my assistant.

But its my show. The greatest show in the world.

The Great Eye
06-23-06, 09:40 PM
In the battle of the men who have never won, there MUST be a winner.

The Great Eye
06-23-06, 09:42 PM
Rp here pls tks

The Great Eye
06-23-06, 09:48 PM
One fall to a finish, winner gets World Title shot at the Super Show.

The Great Eye
06-23-06, 09:52 PM
The World Champ Vs the Las Vegas Champ. Only the World Title is on the line.

06-23-06, 11:56 PM
(FADEIN: A small fort with a roof and 4 walls, all made form giant playing cards. One's an ace of spades, the other a king of hearts, the next a jack of trumps, and the ceiling is the joker. Smoke rises up from the floor and swamps the entire stage. A shadow appears, then trips over the corner of the house of cards and knock sit all over. He quickly sets it all back up, then hides inside. A minute passes, then EL MAGICK-O bursts forth. He's wearing a top hat and cape with a red bodysuit with blue and green suns and comets. He does a cartwheel and stops in front of the camera. Then he wipes off his brow as if there's sweat and pulls a pack of cigarettes from out of his cape. he lights four and smokes them at the same time.)

EL MAGICK-O: I tell you, folks, when you work a grade school graduation, more than one soccer mom wants to come by and see what you're hiding behind the net. And, hey, I even worse one of those goalie masks so they didn't think they were sleeping with some sleazy magician. Not even when I was nailing 2 of them at the same time!

Of course, one of them might have been a man. Her, his, it..whoever...their voice was deep and I thought I saw an adam's apple, but all the plumbing worked downstairs, and they're doing great things with plastic surgery these days, plus I had drank all that wine.

But who could blame me?

I had just singlehandily won a tag team match all myself and I pinned the LVW World Heavyweight Champion and Cowboy Destoyer of Worlds James Donovan myself! It was like I didn't even have a partner, as it was when I was treading along the Courts of Chaos, battling the demons of lushious darkness with a thin rapier!

And just as my tarot cards told me that night I accidentally drank the LSD-tainted Mountain Dew, I have my chance to correct things. To right a wrong. For I have the chance to win a world title shot.

But more than that, if and when I win, the stars and heavens will be in alignment that I can travel back in time and make it that James Donovan had never won the LVW World Championship in the first place!

Just me! El Magick-O! The world's greatest world heavyweight champion, magician, performer, and occasional survey-taker!

It'll be a whole new world of wonder for everyone!

As for my opponents, yeah, yeah, so I sort of set you all on fire. So what? It was a masterful ploy that helped pin that monstrous James Donovan. You think they're the first people I've set aflame? I've had shows where I've lit entire second grade classes onfire and another one when I severed a gym teacher in half and forgot to put him back together. But that's what you get from drinking too much Guiness the night before.

I suppose I shouldn't have tried to make the alcohol vanish, especially when I'd drinking shots beforehand, but magic is experimentation! Not like experimentation in college when you walk up next to someone of indistinguishable gender in a bear suit, but of wonder and chaos!

That is why i must win. I will win. Even if I have to set you aflame again, or banish you to the world of the 4 winds, or simply place bets on horse races in your names and have the bookies come by to break your ankles.

That normally works when some middle-aged hag keeps coming me, saying she wants some kind of paternity test.

But as World Champion, I'll be above all that.

I'll be opening for Wayne Newton.

06-28-06, 10:55 PM
"Wheee doggie, I done got the wool pulled over my eyes thar, didn't I?"

LVW backdrop, title strewn over his shoulder, Cowboy Jimmy Dononvan is cutting a promo!

JD: Well, I done got the rug thar pulled from under me now. El-Magick-O [Editor's note: The "O" is for orgasm!], you got one over one me in a tag match, but when we meet fer real, well, I ain't gonna make the mistake a' gettin' drunk and bangin' hookers the night before. Nope, I'll just stick to the hookers, no boozin' involved 'n such.

See, I been thinkin' 'bout things an' I was wonderin' why I done been in this daze I been in. It's all 'cuz of Fabiola, the best blowjob on both sides a' the Pecos. An' so I was at the bar drinkin' after the match at Hard Eight, and I done got some keen ad-vice. I was sadder than a guy who done lost his left nut after bein' kicked in the jimmies by a mule, and this guy next to me done asked me what was wrong. So I told him, an' you kno what he said?

He said, "Don'tcha worry 'bout a thing, cuz b*tches ain't sh*t."

An' y'know what? He's darn-tootin' right! B*tches ain't sh*t! I shouldn't be worryin' 'bout no hooker. I mean, don't get me wrong here, there ain't nothin' better than feelin' that hooker snatch up against yer piece, but there's millions of hookers out thar. One kicks the bucket an' you just gotta go find another one to suck yer wang. It's that simple.

Now that don't mean our issue is done an' finished now, Mr. Magician. Naw, you still done some purty dastardly things t'me, an' of course, killin' hookers is wrong an' such. But now I sees things clearer now.

Enough about the magic man fer a moment, cuz I gots a challenge on my hands this week. Whee doggie, I gets the Las Vegas Champeen this week, Erik Mateo. When I heard about this match, I was so excited, I almost ran out in the streets and fired mah six shooters in the air, but then I realized that I was buck-ass naked and gettin' pleasured by twin midgets dressed in vinyl 'n lace. But then I heard it was only gon' be mah title on the line, I was so disappointed. It was like payin' fer a Cleveland Steamer an' only gettin' a Dirty Sanchez. If you done lick yer lips, you get a bad taste in yer mouth. I thought I was done gonna get me mah hands on another golden belt.

An' to tell ya the truth, Erik, I'm still madder than a Texas rancher findin' out his son all went Brokeback Mountain on him. I don't think it's all that fair that y'all don't have to put yer belt on the line, so I'm just gonna have to take it out on ya. In fact, I coulda seen you runnin' up to Mr. Dones and whinin' to him like a whore runs to her headmistress an' complains 'bout mah dick makin' her bleed durin' anal and sayin' that she shouldn't hafta pleasure me anymore. Well, I don't like yeller-bellied cowards like that.

Now, I ain't sayin' yer a yeller-bellied coward. In fact, I'mma give you the benefit of the doubt here to come out and say you didn't beg to have yer belt not be on the line. Either way though, I still ain't walkin' outta the Mandalay Bay wit'out kickin' yer faggy bartender ass from pillar to post. An' then maybe I'll head up to yer bar afterwards and pick up all them bar skanks.

'Cuz I ain't been laid for free in a long time, and sometimes, ya gotta switch things up.


06-30-06, 11:16 AM
(The Camera Crew walks down The Strip, enjoying a bit of leisure time as they head into the holiday weekend.)

TERRY: Hey. Check out that one right there.

(The Camera swings arounf to capture a rather nicely built blonde in short shorts and a halter top.)

DORY: Very nice. Very very nice.

(After lingering for perhaps a moment too long, The Camera swings back around and heads back down the strip.)

DORY: So I guess the Dog Doy is gone, huh?

TERRY: Looks that way. Apparently no one has seen him since split from the arena after passing out on the mat at Hard Eight.

DORY: Good Riddance, the poor sap wasn't made out for the game anyway.

TERRY: Yeah, I guess not.

DORY: And after the beatings that Esposito and Zane laid out on him over the past couple of cards, I can just imagine what Bellmouth would have done to him this week.

TERRY: You're probably right. I just kind of wonder where he is is all.

DORY: Who cares. He's probably laying in a dumpster somewhere.

(Just then a rumbling sound is heard from within the dumpster that the Camera Crew is passing. They stop in thier tracks and glance over at it.)

TERRY: You don't think...?

DORY: I don't even want to know. Let's go.

TERRY: But shouldn't we at least just check?

DORY: No. We should not. He's gone and it's best if he stays gone. Let's go

(The Camera Crew hurriedly continues down The Strip.)

07-05-06, 08:32 PM
(Fadein, An LVW backdrop empty except New LVW Las Vegas Champion Erik Mateo sitting on a wooden stool, checkin' out his bracelet.)

EM: Y'know sumthin' there Donovan...it is Donovan right?? 'Cuz see 'round where Ah-come from...only f*ckers named Donovan turn out tah' be fags, so ah jes' wan' be sure 'bout that...anyway...yah' might have somethin' there 'bout whatcha' talkin' 'bout "Switchin' things up'.

See now...usually its' tha' other guy whose runnin' his mouth 'bout how he's gon' do this an' that tah me....an' it occured tah me while ah was drankin'...

Ah don' haveta do much of tha' same thang this time 'round.

You...yer ah-differen' f*cker altogether, nothin' like Chalupa-boy or Mister Nickel-Milimeter.

That...an' from what'cha sayin' tah me after what ah said backstage las' week...

It still don' change ah-thang in how ah'ma do this fight.

'Cuz whether it's yer title or mine that's on tha' line...one thang remains tha' same.

It's ah fight.

Glorified, sure...hey...Ah can count tha' times Ah've been in fight like this on one hand...an' wouldja look tah see what Ah've got 'round my wrist??

(Shows off the Las Vegas title Bracelet.)

Sure is perdy ain't it??

Got this tha' same way Ah got anythan' else in life...by beatin' b*tches up.

An' one thang's fer sure...havin' that there belt you got 'round your waist...'round mine...whose' tah' say that that ain't 'nuff incentive to beat yer ass...but there's ah check waitin' fer meh either way...

So Ah s'pose it's ah bonus fer me, no??

When it comes down to it tho' Donovan...what yer sayin' tah me ain't nothin' diffren' from what those other f*ckers said tah me an' if Ah havetah go on that alone as sumthin' tah think 'bout...then hey...

Consider Sin City mah' house this week, pal.

An' NOBODY walks intah' mah' house an' grabs a pintah' whiskey without me knowin'...not even YOU.

You ain't walkin' outta tha' Man-de-lay Bay without kickin' mah' a** from pill'-tah'-post, well then think 'bout this one before ya look up an' find yer own sister on yer face:

What if Ah don' letcha walk outta Man-de-lay Bay AT ALL??

'Cuz ya know Ah'm can-doit, Ah did it las' week.

An' Ah'm more than willin' tah' do it again.


07-24-06, 12:59 AM
(The Camera focuses on some chicks ass)

DORY: Hey. You get a paycheck this week?

TERRY: Nope.

DORY: Me neither.

TERRY: I just kind of figured it was because we didn't do any work in the last week or so.

DORY: You know that's why people freaking join a union.

TERRY: So they can get paid for not working?

DORY: Well it's not like they gave us an assignment.

TERRY: I guess we could always freelance it.

DORY: Yeah. And then send them a bill. Great idea,

TERRY: So you want to go see if that Dog Boy is still in the trash?

DORY: Nah. Let's go track down Belmouth. I want to follow a winner around for a change.

(Just then a frisbee goes flying by. And right behind it, loping on hands and feet, is Shadrick the Dog Boy. He looks a whole lot better with a few weeks rest since he last took a horrible beating in the ring.)

DORY: Okay, Dog Boy it is then.

TERRY: Whatever get's us paid, right?

DORY: Exactly.

(The camera turns and follows Shadric as he catches the frisbee in his mouth. A bunch of frat boys on summer break start screaming at him and chasing him down the strip as he runs away with their frisbee.)

(THe camera follows at a quick clip)


03-12-09, 10:47 AM
Fade into a soundstage at the Mandalay Bay Casino and Hotel in beautiful Las Vegas, Nevada. Standing there in front of a LVW podium is Cowboy Jimmy Donovan, who can only be seen from the waist up, wearing a long sleeved oxford shirt, bola tie and cowboy hat, with the banner behind him reading "Mandalay Bay proudly sponsors Jimmy Donovan!"

JD: Well howdy e'eryone! For those of y'all who don't know, I'm Jimmy Donovan, an' I'm a 'rassler for Las Vegas 'Rasslin, which is comin' back after a short heye-aye-tus. Now what does that have to do with the fine folks here at Mandalay Bay? Well, I's here to announce that those fine fellers have done gone and decided to sponsor me in the ring! Ain't that grand, y'all? They're gonna give me an extra 5 Gs a match jus' fer wearin' these trunks!

Jimmy holds up a pair of black trunks with "MANDALAY BAY CASINO AND HOTEL" written in big, gold, gaudy lettering on the back.

JD: See? Ain't that purty? An' all I gots to do is wear these e'ertime I 'rassle an' appear in mah 'rasslin garb or appear in public. See?

Donovan comes out from behind the podium, revealing his shirt to be tucked into his wrestling trunks. He turns around and bends over so that everyone can see he's wearing the same ones he just flashed to the crowd.

JD: Ain't those fellers swell? I mean, in a bad economy like this, LVW cain't pay me as much as they used to be able to. An' I was so excited to come back to LVW because I could go back to doin' mah two most favorite things in the whole wide world without the risk a' gettin' in trouble! Bangin' hookers and 'rasslin professionally! But then I got the contract offer, an' I got real sad-like. But the fine folks here, well they done made my day! Yeehaw!

But then I done found out somethin' else that got me feelin' lower than a bow-legged carpenter ant. They ain't lettin' me keep my LVW World Championship! Man, when I found that out, I was angrier than when that Brazilian hooker in Miami gave me chlamydia. I didn't lose mah title in any LVW-sanctioned match! I was outraged, an' I ain't gon' stop bein' outraged until I get mah title back, no matter what I has to do to get it back.

I reckon this week they done put me in the main event against Billy Bellmoth as a test or somethin'. Well, Billy, I understand you some kinda ace poker player. I don't play myself. The only flop I know 'bout is when I go to the 50-and-over brothels and the hookers titties flop all over the place. But I do know that when I get a hold a' you, yer gonna fold quicker than a contortionist on meth.

Yee-haw! Jimmy's back e'eryone! And I ain't stoppin' til I get my gold back! Now, if y'all'll excuse me, I got an appointment with a one-legged blonde over at the new freaky fetish whorehouse. It's my first time with an amputee! HOT DIGGITY!

Jimmy rushes off the stage and exits stage left as the screen fades to the LVW logo.

03-12-09, 12:06 PM
(FADEIN: A ratty old apartment littered with surf and skateboard magazines, bags of half-eaten cheetos and doritos, a coffee table with wheels, bearings, and screws laying on top, all next to a fully packed bowl of weed. Against the wall sits a brown couch with a surfboard leaning up against the side of it. Sitting on the couch is a young man with long blonde frizzled hair, with a dirty blonde beard. He's shirtless, wearing a hemp necklace and white/blue board shorts)

JUST ONE DUDE LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE, YET TOTALLY WILLING TO PARTY ALONG THE WAY: Como 'sta bro, welcome to my humble abode! I have to admit, when they first told me I was booked to wrestle, I was a tad nervous. I mean like, I was trained and stuff, but I really haven't wrestled since I was in high school. Ahhh dude I wanted to be a pro wrestler SO BADLY!

Actually, I came up with this gimmick, I was gonna come out to the ring with my bong and they were gonna call me Weed Man. And my thing was that I would come out to Hotel California and smoke with my fans until the song ended, and then I would smash a big glass bong on someone's head! Dude, that woulda been so outta sight but they never let me do it. But really, at the end of the day, I don't need a gimmick. When it comes down to it, I'm just one dude looking for adventure, yet TOTALLY willing to party along the way! That's gonna be my name too, so that'd killer if you guys just called me that from now on.

So yeah, lemme tell you dudes the story of how "Just one dude looking for adventure, yet totally willing to party along the way" came to Vegas.

I was chilling bodaciously at my pad, playing Super Nintendo cause the old school games are still the best, and that's when I decided to smoke a bowl right then and there brah. So I'm hangin' back, tokin', playing Super Metroid and eating out of a box of Cocoa Puffs, when I'm like dude, I need some new threads brah.

That's when I went out to the Mission Valley mall in San Diego, to the Billabong outlet. So some dude comes up to me and is like, "Yo Todd! What are you doing??" And I'm like, "Hey brah, do I know you? What's up?? Help me find some new threads brah???" And then he says, "Nooooo you idiot, did you forget? I'm your boss, you f*ckin' work here and you're 4 hours late you idiot!"

So now I start thinking and am like "Aahhhhh dude you know what? You're totally right brah, I'm buggin'! But let me tell you why I'm late. My alarm totally didn't go off at the time I set it for, and then when I got up so late I forgot it was Wednesday and thought it was Sunday and am like "Duuuude I gotta work tomorrow but I might as well enjoy my Sunday and totally appreciate life right now." And I started playing Nintendo...and like...yo dude, so you think you could totally help me find some new Billabong threads????

And then he got all pissed at me cause the song "Down" by 311 started playing over the store speakers and I interrupted him to sing to it. I'm singin' in his face like "WEHAVECHANGEDALOTANDTHEN-SOME-SOME!"

Then he's like "Dude...seriously?...you're fired!"

I go back home to my parents house and my dad's all like in a serious voice like "Ummm...son? Did you get fired today son? You did, didn't you? Slacker...I knew it. You have no ambition, no future. All you want to do is sit in your room playing those damn game tapes and doing pot. You're lucky I pay for you to live under my roof."

Dude, F*CK THAT, DUDE! I told my old man that I DO HAVE a future, and I don't have to live under his bogus rules anymore. So I decided to change the world and invent the first ever hybrid, wind and crunchberry residue powered moped. And dude don't tell anybody, but I definitely stole my neighbor Randy's moped from his dad's garage and used it in my experiments. Duuude, that miniature windmill I attached on the back? Cost me like $8,000 dollars! And I had to buy 45 boxes of captain crunchberries every week just to get the hybrid moped to reach it's max speed of 3.5 miles per hour.

Needless to say, I was strapped for cash, especially given that I was using a lot of the money my dad gave me on slurpees at 7-11 and weed from the guy over at the San Diego bodeaga. Annnyyywaayyy, when my project was complete I decided to take a road trip with the wind/crunchberry moped over to Las Vegas to show the world that we don't need foreign oil, cause all we ever needed was nature's wind and whole lot of crunchberries dude.

I was so stoked to change the planet, but that's when the windmill broke due to resistence from the crunchberries. So now I need money to fix it, and it's kinda bummin' me out. That's when I saw fliers for LVW and was like, I know I never held a job for more than a month cause I'm always late, but I'm pretty sure I could show up for these matches. Plus I was trained by the famed female lucha libre of California, La Puta Gringa. She taught me all kinds of moves, so now I'm wrestling to fix my moped.

So that's the story of "Just One Dude Looking For Adventure, Yet Totally Willing to Party Along the Way"

I don't know who my first opponent's gonna be, but I just wanna say, no hard feelings brah, just doing what a dude's gotta do to fix his moped. Seriously dude, if you just wanna like show up with me and smoke in the ring instead of fight, I think the LVW dudes would be down with that. How could people possibly complain about such an awesome scenario????

Like Gandhi said, I'm a man of nonviolence, and I do have a dream. And this dude's dream is to ride that wind and crunchberry moped into history!

Peace brah.


03-16-09, 08:02 AM
(FADEIN: Tight shot of... something. Shot quickly zooms out far, revealing a man nibbling on a Mini Chips Ahoy!, lying on a couch, a microphone on his belly, a small remote in his hand aimed at your screen - indeed, THE GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE.)

THE GOL: (grabbing mic with his free hand) "There we go... fans of LVW, welcome to the home of... The Gentleman of Leisure. (someone grumbles off screen, THE GOL looks in it peripheral direction then back at your screen) And... here with me today, ready for his return to Las Vegas Wrestling, I bring you, Bill Bellmoth!"

(GOL clicks on his remote, and the view swings left to BILL BELLMOTH, in all his glory, sitting in a sofa seat. Wearing a black, zipped up Ultimate Raise jacket, his signature interlocking BB cap, and custom Oakleys, BELLMOTH goes from frown to flashing a million dollar smile at the camera, giving two thumbs up!)

THE GOL: "So Bill... I have to ask-"

BILL BELLMOTH: "What I have to ask is why I'm here in this rathole you call a home-"

THE GOL: "I am... the Gentleman of Leisure, afterall. You expected me to get off my ass to go out to The Strip to meet you?"

BELLMOTH: "This isn't about you, buddy, this is about (points at self) ME. You see... I was up at TPC Summerlin yesterday morning, watching my good friend, golf pro Corey Pavin, playing a few holes, giving him some pointers on how to improve his game to be as good as (points to self) ME, Bill Bellmoth. Then we went and had a fantastic lunch at B&B over at the Palazzo, where we met up with his wife Lisa and a couple others; we had the Dom Perignon flowing, and let me tell you, EVERYONE was LOVING the company... and then, we went over to the Hard Rock, and we met up with my good friend Axl Rose backstage, before we went and rocked out to some Gn'R, baby, and... (BELLMOTH puts his arms up, palms to the sky) ...and I thought, what could Bill Bellmoth possibly do to give back to this city? That's when the thought hit me... why not return to where it all began? Why not come back to LVW, and give to it MY star power? What better way... (BELLMOTH catches himself)... I mean, what better way to promote this return show, then to feature the (BELLMOTH puts up both index fingers) ELEVEN TIME... World Champion? Who else but me?"

THE GOL: "Eleven times?"

BELLMOTH: "Eleven times, baby! See... each World Championship was so important to me that, since they wouldn't let me keep carry all those belts around... even with these Atlas-like shoulders, my agents wanted me to take it easy... but I said to myself, how can I, Bill Bellmoth, share with MY fans in MY greatness? So I went to my good friend, Jacob the Jeweler, and I had... (BELLMOTH rolls up his left sleeve, revealing jewelry that...) ...I had him make REPLICA BRACELETS, of ALL of my Championship belts!"

THE GOL: "Wow, that's-"

BELLMOTH: (pointing at the bracelet closest to his hand) "You see this one right here? This is from the AMW up north - Alaska Moose Wrestling. I still remember it like it was yesterday... me and my good friend, Alexei Pokerov, finally teaching that crazy woman they had for a champ what Russia was really all about-"

THE GOL: "You beat a-"

BELLMOTH: (pointing at the next bracelet) "Oh and this one... (laughs) ...from the TJW, Tijuana Wrestlin-"

THE GOL: "Bill, enough with story-time. I gotta roll over soon and get back to sleep."

BELLMOTH: "You donkey! (looks in the camera's direction) Here I am, the (points up both index fingers) ELEVEN TIME World Champion, talking about my World Title victories, and this guy just decides to cut me off! ME! Well let me tell you something buddy... you send this message to James Donovan. You and him both are just a pair of donkey luckboxes. How you ever got this job interviewing people, and how Donovan ever became the first-ever LVW Champion is still beyond me. I mean... how? HOW? How do they do it?"

"James Donovan, look buddy... you are going up against one of the greatest one-on-one wrestlers of all time! I have 11 World Championships to prove it! And I will show you, and the rest of LVW, that it's negative EV to cross paths with Bill Bellmoth, and that no one can bring it like I can, because all EYE do... is DODGE BULLETS, BABY!"


03-16-09, 11:16 PM
(CUTTO: JUST ONE DUDE sitting in a red beanbag in the corner of his room with a Super Nintendo controller in his hand. He also has a bag of cheetos in his lap)

J1D: (spits out a bunch of orange crumbs) DUDE! Seriously? I did not know that you were quite possibly a homeless dude until I watched the replay of our match! Like, I just looked at your skunked out threads and thought you were like a minimalist or something, like Ghandi. Chhhyah brah, Ghandi is way boss!

Anyway, I am sorry for beatin' up on ya and totally scroddin' your ride. I am way supportive of food and shelter for homeless dudes all over the planet, especially here on American soil. That's why I charged ahead and put together a little token of my appreciation in the form of a gift basket!

(reaches beside the bean bag and picks up a basket full of various items)

Just a little something I whipped together at the last second, partly funded by the money my parents sent me, and partly funded by me totally hocking three very valuable boxes of Captain Crunchberries on the Vegas strip three hours ago. Hope you like it, brosef!

Here we go, first item. A totally haggard yet slightly bodacious coffee mug, featuring a picture of Yours Truly on the front, giving the totally awesome thumbs up! So now when you drink your coffee, homeless dude, you can look at this picture and know that I'm most definitely saying to you, "hang in there homeless dude. Life is a gnarley riptide, and you don't necessarily need a body board to surf it brah!" Next, we have, of course, a box of Teddy Grahams. Don't leave home without 'em dude!

Nawww, wait a second brosef, did I say home? I uh....meant, um....your totally righteous cardboard abode which I am so not judging you for residing in???? OK so we got a riptastic coffee mug, box of Teddy Grahams...AH, right, can't forget these... iso-toners, duuude! For when your hands get chilly around the holidays!

And remember brah, sharing is caring, so if you know any other homeless dudes in need of these, spread the wealth in the name of Yours Truly, Just One Dude! Last but not least, I got you a big box of taco shells! So now you have something to eat your tacos with, dude!

(Puts the gift basket down)

As for the rest of the Vegas crew...look dudes, I'm not trying to come down on you at all. But at the same time, I gotta get home somehow! And to do that I need to earn money. And to do that I need to win that gold! So if you're willing, I'll just smoke some bud with you in the ring, as long as we're clear on who the rightful gold miner is in the EL-VEE-DUB dudes!

'Cause like, it's not right if you're in it just for the glory. Dudes, I'm all for any of you winning gold, but you don't understand, I NEED TO GET HOME!

Seriously! If one of you needed the belt for a good reason I'd be more than happy to troll out any turd burglars who got in your way. In this case though brosefs, I'm a brah in need! I generally am a non-violent man of peace, but if you force me to go apesh*t, I'll have to drop a few chill pills brah.

This promotion is way haggard, but there ain't any waves in the desert, you catch my drift? California is just wayyy too wicked.

Peace bros, and I hope one of you can find it in your heart to do a good deed for a bro in need! And if any of you need to e-mail me, please do so at J1D@bablefish.net.


John Doe
03-17-09, 11:11 AM


A very dark African American runs in front of the camera that is placed in front of a very cheap LVW backdrop. He is wearing an all latex superhero costume. On the chest sits a large SS. A mask on his face as a scrolling text goes across the bottom of the screen "This Is An Alert From Super Spade!".

SUPER SPADE: "Wot be dat der dat dey be askin'? It be a bird, be a plane, nah, it be de true super hero dat be aroun' dem parts o'ver 'ere, mon. Suuuuuuuuppppppeeeeeeerrrrrr Sppppppaaaaaaddddddeeeee (This of course echos with out any hesitation)."

SUPER SPADE: "Dem peepole be lookin' for a real persons to be competing in der place dat be El Ve Double-Chu. I don't be mindin' dat dey hire me, mon. I be gottin' dem skills!"

-Screen change to Super Spade attempting to run through traffic only to be wiped out by a car, his body floating in the air like a rag doll as the car that hit him slams on its breaks.-

SUPER SPADE: "I be gottin' dat speed der, mon."

-Screen change to Super Spade in a pen with a tiger, he is trying to reach the exit which is blocked by the figure of the beast in front of him. He makes a dart from him, all we see is the camera pan away as a large growl is heard followed by a high pitched scream-

SUPER SPADE: "I be havin' all den Super Powers dat be needed to beat dem peeople in dat ring o'ver der, mon. I be da Super Spade!"

He pauses and looks around.

SUPER SPADE: "I be seein' ya, mon"


The Great Eye
03-18-09, 10:30 PM
RP for this match here.

The Great Eye
03-18-09, 10:31 PM
Rp for this match here

The Great Eye
03-18-09, 10:33 PM
RP for the match here.

The Great Eye
03-18-09, 10:34 PM
Rp for the match here.

John Doe
03-19-09, 02:47 PM


The bottom of the screen flashes white text, cheaply animated like a poor marketing commercial "THIS IS AN ALERT FROM SUPER SPADE!" The scene is in a dark alley as a figure emerges from the poor lighting. A figure that we know as Super Spade! The recluse of superheroes the shadow in the light, the most elusive Superhero of superheros. He dawns his attire, black latex suit with green and yellow stripes. The large SS on his suit his symbol of trust and everlasting justice! He stands arms on his hips as his masked face looks up to the right.

SS: "It'd be me, mon. DA Suuuuppppperrrr Spaddddeeee!!!!!! (This echoes of course.) I be gettin' dat der letter, mon, dat be tellin' me dat I be havin' me a match at da place dat be needin' me der, El-Vee0- Double-Chu!!!! Dey be wantin' me to take care of der enemy dey got der dat be. Um, dat be......wot he be again....ah dat be it der, mon. Ja-one-dee. I be watching you der, mon. You be in dat video dat I be seein' 'bout how you became da wrestla, mon."

Super Spade jumps up to a shut dumpster that sits in this alleyway, only to miss it slightly and use his boots to climb up the rest of the way on top of this dumpster. He crouches as the camera changes position so it is looking up at him.

SS: "Dat be cool der, mon. But I be tellin' ya, mon, don't ya be lookin' to be in dis 'ere match with me mon, dinking dat chu gonna be comin' out with one of dem wins over da Supppppppeeeerrrrr Spppppaaadddddeeeee!!!! I be a watchin' you mon, be watchin' wot you be doin' and how you be actin' 'bout dem parts o'ver 'ere, mon. I be in da El Vee Double Chu to be protectin' da people from de crimes cha be commitin' der, mon."

Super Spade jumps off the dumpster doing a failed half a spin the cape on his back flipping and flying everywhere as he stands not even facing the camera his back to it.

SS: "I be seein' dem crimes ya do be commitin', dem poor games chu be playing, wot it be called, dat Metriod, da Super Spade not be playin' no games. Da super Spade be havin dem powers, mon! Dat speed, dat agility, dat fastness dat be needin' to beat cha, mon! Cha don't be realizin' of how fast da Super Spade truly be till I be hittin' ya, mon, speed of da sound, speed of the sharks in dem waters. On de attack, on de prowl waitin' for chu to attack den da Super Spade got ya in me trap."

He turns around quickly to face the camera his hands out wide and slamming together quickly making a large slap sound as he looks at the camera through his semi crooked mask

SS: "I be sayin' dat the fans be seein' how great da Super Spade be, mon! Dey be seein' when we be in dat ring how da Super Spade be crushin' the villains of dis place 'ere, mon! I be a ready for chu, mon. I be a ready to take chu to da limits, I be ready to fly dem circles aroun' ya, mon. I be lookin' to use me laser vision on ya too mon, but dat be too much blood for dem boys do be cleanin' up in dat ring der."

He points to the sky as he talks h his next sentence.

SS: "I be sayin' da way to da fan's heart, be through ya stomach. But I be goin' through ya ribcage! You be understandin' dat der, mon? I be waitin' for cha to be in dat ring and when chu finally be in der, I be showin' chu da wrath for five thousan' gods. I bring me fist 'ere into ya piece der and pop dat right off in da flash of a camera, mon."

SS: "Da Super Spade be a ready for dis match 'ere, mon. Dem question be is Ja-One-Dee be ready to take on not jus' any booty but de SUUUUPPPPEEERRR SPAAAAADDDDEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"

SS: "I Be Seein' Ya, Mon."


03-19-09, 04:38 PM
(FADEIN: JUST ONE DUDE LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE, YET TOTALLY WILLING TO PARTY ALONG THE WAY outside of a Nevada 7-11, drinking out of a Slurpee straw)

J1D: (slurping out the last drops; looks at the empty cup, and tosses it in the trash) Yo brah, what gives? Why so angry dude? This wave's big enough for both of us to rip, why feel the need to totally come down on me in a not-so-awesome way?

LVW is like those awesome night times waves, golden folding towards me as I ready my board, and I'm just straight front porchin' it to the shore dude! And right now brah, no offense, but you're totally being that assmunch who's gotta cut me off every time I'm stoked for a wave.

Why not just live peaceful like the Maharucci, and come join me in the ring for a blaze of the skunk? I always thought Jamaicans were quite peaceful, brosef, and that maybe you and I could find some common ground.

Well the DEAL'S OFF, brah! Obviously you're just tryin' to snake the waves that I'm scopin', and that's not cool either. Losing to you means that not only am I too broke to get home, but also too broke to afford gnarley 7-11 grindage.

Man, what self-respecting Jamaican refuses to smoke super high quality sativa plant in the ring with a far out innovator from Cali, brah?

Now...I have no choice, brosef, (gets into karate stance) but to use my hands to defend myself! I'd like to wish you luck dude, but you're gonna need a lot more than J1D's lucky stones to come out of this one with a W. Sure hope they're payin' the losers well, brah, otherwise Columbia Pictures is totally gonna take you to trademark infringement court when you come up short on Blankman's royalties.

Nah brah, I'm sorry, this isn't me talkin'. The true J1D wants to make peace, not war, so OK...I'm givin' you this one last chance to make amends dude. I want you to first make one bodacious apology, to me, and then I wanna smoke that South American sativa plant with you dude.

So are we cool now, brosef? Get back at me, I'll be chilaxin' at my pad on the beanbag, of course! Catch ya later brah, and sorry for all the unwarranted anger.


03-22-09, 05:20 PM
(OPEN: Strong silhouette against stark white backdrop.)

I'm not deluding myself.

I have not the expectation nor the inclination to be listed among the "greats" of this sport. As much as I appreciate the fans and as hard as I work for my money... I'd much rather be absolutely certain where I rank with ME than always wonder exactly where I stand with the people in the seats.

(The silhouette smiles despite itself.)

I'll never have an endorsement contract and I'll never, not once, do a guest spot on SNL. And believe me when I say it; all of that is just fine with me.

Over ten years in the sport and I've seen the top and lived at the bottom. Struggled, clawed, bled, cried, and earned. I'm content with a modest pay day, knowing I put it all out there every time,without exception, and the comfort of a cold six pack at the end of the night. I've no dreams of besting the best the fWo has to offer, selling out the next Fish Fund, headlining a Wrestlestock, or competing in the TEAM Invitational...

(A stiff break.)

Well... maybe that last one could happen.

What I'm getting at is ... that's not what drives me. I've been in this sport for over a decade and while it's true I've sat the last few years out, dealing with what needed to be dealt with, what drives me hasn't gone away.

It still drives me.

I'm not deluding myself. I haven't been on american TV - local or national - in 8 years. If I was lucky you might count on ONE hand the number of folks, wrestling afficianado's and admitted nerds, who've wondered where Dakota has been all these damn years.

But after the High Risk ... after collecting what's got to be my Reward... you can add one MORE person to that list. Jack Hudgins'll be wondering just where in the hell Nate Dakota came from.

But that's not what's important. It's not about where I've been. It's not even about where I'm going.

(CUT: Tighter shot on the face of the silhouette. Barely could one might out it's features. It is unclear whether this lighting is by design or circumstance.)

It's about what's DRIVING me there. But that's for me to know... and Jack Hudgins to feel.

It's ironic that this new chapter in my career, in my life, is set in Las Vegas. Ironic that I find myself back in the City of Sin. A lot has changed since then but the memories are unchanged. The scars run deep and the debts are long outstanding. Might say I'm putting myself to the ultimate test. Say that and I'll remind you that I'm a quick study.

But... I'm not deluding myself.


03-23-09, 01:09 PM
The scene is outside of the Las Vegas premiere for I Love You, Man. A black stretch limousine rolls up to the red carpet and the window rolls down to reveal none other than Cowboy Jimmy Donovan. A throng of reporters rushes up to the window, only to be mostly disappointed that it's a pro wrestler and not Wayne Newton or Siegfried. A few reporters stay to ask questions of the once and possibly future LVW Champion.

Reporter #1: Jimmy, are you nervous about the possible stipulations?

Reporter #2: Do you know anything about your opponent?

Reporter #3: Is it true that you caught syphillis at the amputee brothel?

JD: Fellers, fellers, one question at a time! Cowboy Jimmy Donovan ain't the kinda guy who takes kindly to peoples talkin' over each other now. Couldja first lemme get outta this here stretch limousine?

Jimmy gets out of the limo revealing a black tuxedo top, a bola tie on a white shirt, a white cowboy hat, wingtip shoes and... his custom made Mandalay-Bay advertising wrestling trunks. The shirt is tucked into the trunks, and his ban-lon socks are pulled all the way up his shins. An audible groan comes up from the crowd at the questionable attire.

JD: Awwright now, who wants to ask the once-an'-future LVW World's Heavyweight Champion a question!

All Three Reporters: Why the hell are you in that get-up?

JD: Whoa, whoa, whoa, simmer down, y'all. I done already explained why I have to wear these trunks everywhere I go. Five Gs is a lotta money fer me to not be wearin' these things all the time. Now, one question at a time, already takin' into account the reason why I'mma wearin' these 'rasslin' trunks.

R #2: Jimmy, do you know anything about your opponent?

JD: Well, I... I reckon I don't. Alls I know about him is a name an' that he done shares a nickname with that guy I met at the tranny brothel in New York City that one time, Alex Rodriguez. I can say that I didn't quite take to the trannies, but that A-Rod, dang! He paid fer three of 'em at a time when I saw 'im there. He likes his wimmens manly if I do say so mahself. So if my opponent is anything like that other A-Rod, well then, I might want to bulk up on mah strength training, because he likes them manly wimmens throwin' him around and he's got that stamina built up.

R #1: Cowboy, what about the stipulations, given that your reward for winning could mean a favorable draw for the LVW Championship Battle Royale?

JD: Well, I reckon that it ain't gonna matter when I get into that there battle royale, because no matter what position I be in, whether it's the first or the second or the thirtieth, or the missionary, reverse cowgirl, piledriver, Jimmy Donovan's always got what it takes to pull through, an' in the case when I happen to forget a condom, pull out as well. Now, of course, I ain't lookin' to lose none of mah matches, so I don't expect to hafta be afraid of drawin' number one outta that first punch bowl, but whether I end up pickin' sixteen or thirty, well, it ain't gonna matter. Ain't nothin' keepin' Cowboy Jimmy Donovan from winnin' back the title that he ain't never lost in the middle of that there ring.

R #3: Jimmy, did you get syphillis at the amputee whorehouse?

JD: Aww hell naw, that was nothin' but a case of false reportin'. I just had an adverse reaction to them oysters they put out at the snack bar. Turns out alls I done had to do was go home and take some penicillin, which I buy in bulk given the nature of mah lifestyle and such.

Awwright, if that be all, I'mma gonna go in and watch what the Las Vegas Sun calls the best buddy comedy of the year so far! Yeehaw!

Jimmy walks into the theater as the scene fades to the LVW logo.

03-23-09, 10:13 PM
[FADEIN: Richard Andrews is standing in front of a tall mirror in his small apartment in downtown Las Vegas. He is very thin but well-toned. His red hair is without sideburns, parted in the middle and very poofy. It stands nearly eight inches from his scalp. Andrews is wearing a very tight amateur wrestling singlet. He checks himself out and nods affirmatively.]

ANDREWS: I am looking very fit, Bertha, I must say!

[Andrews flexes in the mirror as the camera pans over to show a forthysomething woman wearing excessive make-up, her mullett-esque hair tied in a pony tail. She is chewing gum loudly as she paints her nails.]


ANDREWS: You don't think my singlet is too tight, do you? I mean, it's been almost twenty years since I wore it back in high school. I was smaller then.

Martha doesn't look up.


ANDREWS: Yeah, you're right. It does look good on me. Say, honey, did you do research on my opponent?


ANDREWS: What'd you find out, honey?


ANDREWS: You must not be able to hear me. I said... what did you learn about this... Olvir?

MARTHA: Oh, oh. Yes. Apparently he is a Viking. And a porn star.

ANDREWS: So we have a lot in common then!


ANDREWS: Don't you think so?

Martha finishes painting one hand and begins painting the other.


ANDREWS: Don't you think Olvir and I have a lot in common? I mean, he's a former movie star. And I starred in that movie on Lifetime five years ago. Remember that one, honey? Where I played the abusive husband's bartender's neighbor's dog walker?

MARTHA: I thought your scene was cut?

ANDREWS: Yeah... but I'm sure my name just being associated with it helped to draw big Neilsen numbers.

MARTHA: It didn't register on the Neilsens

ANDREWS: Well, the whole Neilsen system is messed up anyways. I am sure it's just a coincidence those twelve-thousand families happened to be the only ones who didn't turn in.

MARTHA: It was on at 3AM on a Sunday morning. And they cancelled it halfway through.

ANDREWS: Okay, well, we both were filmed for movies. How many people can say that?


03-24-09, 02:40 AM
(FADEIN: Tight shot of white and red leather glistening under stage lamps and the sound of liquid splashing around.)

(CUTTO: The red and white is the leather of a wrestler's mask. The MASKED MAN wears a pinstripe suit with jacket and vest, holding a classy glass of Brandy in his left hand. He peels his jacket tail back and places his free hand on his hip. His focus shifts to the camera before him.)

MASKED MAN: "Allo." (gesturing with the glass) "What you see before you may or may not confuse. I'm pretty sure you can figure out that..." (once again with the glass) "...I..." (takes a small sip) "...am not some Plumbing champion or female pleasure hole or even your every-day, weed-smoking mega-star. No..." (pondering) "Not yet, anyway. Heh heh.." (he loses himself in thought and grins) "For I am de Spaniard."

(ZOOM: The SPANIARD grins and swigs some Brandy again. He raies his arms in the air rapidly with the glass in hand.)

SPANIARD: "Welcome me, Las Vegas! Oh n-" (SPANIARD looks up)

(ZOOMOUT: The boom mic falls on top of the SPANIARD as the screech of feedback through the input line causes for the LVW Title Screen to appear.)


(CUTTO: The GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE sleeps on his couch. The SPANIARD, storming by, slowls down his gate enough to become curious of the situation. He stops, glaring down at the lifeless heap of interviewing expertise, as if something compells him to do so.)

SPANIARD: "Well, GENTLEMAN, that is a good point. Do the fans even know me? I'm not sure! (SPANIARD purses his lips and scratches his chin) There's only one way to find out! QUICK! (SPANIARD jumps in the air, landing inches away from GOL. Still no movement.) Where did de Spaniard grow up!?"

(SPANIARD pauses and waits for his on-screen counter to awake. No movement comes from GOL's region of the scene, yet again.)

SPANIARD: "For somebody with a lot of resources you sure don't seem to-"

(SPANIARD flailsl his arms crazily in mid-sentence CLEARLY interrupting GOL.)

SPANIARD: "OH MY JESUS! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY CORRECT! In fact I DO come from America. Spanish Harlem to be exact. Little would the fans of LVW know that a foreigner's family can do very well in this country if given enough can-do and know-how in their cup each mornin'."

(SPANIARD looks to GOL once again. He begins chuckling aloud. then stops with all the seriousness of a stroke.)

SPANIARD: "Oh my, GENTLEMAN..." (SPANIARD pauses and stares to the floor.) "That sounds dangerous..."

(CUTTO: The hottest point of the night in Vegas - midnight - packs the Bellagio club BANK with twenty-somethings and cocktail dresses. And a red and white leather mask.)

SPANIARD: "I... love..."

(EXTREMEZOOM: SPANIARD's blue eyes reflect strobe lights, free drinks, a night filled with sinful wishes and one hell of a sex party.)

SPANIARD: "VEEEEGAAASSS!!!" (SPANIARD flails his arms even more than he did whe he blatantly interrupted GOL. Then the sea of sexy bodies and bad intentions engulf him like a baby eats a cheerio. CHOMP.)

(CUTTO: Splash screen for BIG RISK, BIG REWARD presented by Las Vegas Wrestling.)



03-24-09, 09:30 PM
(Camera opens up in the back of a dark room. You see an old film projector in B/W playing the match up from 1990 Walter Ray Williams vs Jack Hudgins in slow motion)

(V/O of the late great CHRIS SCHENKEL: 1990 PBA K-MART Tournament of Champions. It pitted Jack 7-10 Hudgins, potentially the rookie of the year facing Walter Ray Williams in the finals. Jack being notorious for picking up any split on the wood. Defeating all opponents thrown to him, as well legends. But on one given night his life would change forever. Walter Ray finished with a 255 as Jack Hudgins carried a 254 into the 10th frame being an almost lock to win.)


SCHENKEL: Jack up for his first shot in the tenth frame.......Simply needing one pin to tie, and two pins to win. Rookie of the year maybe?

(Hudgins throws..................)


(Disbelief among fans in the crowd, much along with Jack. Jack walks back with no problem knowing all he needs is two pins)

SCHENKEL: One gutter ball in the tenth frame ladies and gentlemen. Jack simply needs one pin to tie, or two to win. The set up......



(FADEIN to a B/W side shot of Hudgins sitting on the couch in the year with a lit cigarette in his mouth taking notes on a pad talking to himself)

JACK 7-10 HUDGINS: Two dots over to the left.....

(Puffs the cigarette very hard jotting down notes)

.....Oil pattern


......Dry far right


....Oily center


....The ******* rack was off center.


(Camera pans around to the front of his face with the still lit cigarette in his mouth, taking notes, along with a bowling glove on his hand)

JACK HUDGINS: 7-10 is finally heading to Vegas. FINALLY!! Nate Dakota, what size shoe do you dare to wear? What pound ball do you dare to throw against me? Will you bring your powder sack? You dare to challenge me to a bowling duel?

WELL 7-10 accepts.

How have you lived at the bottom while drinking six packs? I've been to every rock n bowl on Fridays since the age of eleven drinking pitchers of beer passing out cups to teens......... till your mom. Become a regular at the lanes like I do, they all know your name. The only name not on that list is NATE DAKOTA. I could careless where NATE DAKOTA came from or has done. Your a mire part timer, and you just so happen to take up all my air time I need. CBS for you? Forget it. NBC? ESPN?

We are talking about the bowling capital of the world. I WANT WALTER RAY WILLLLLLLLLIIIIAAAAMMMMSSSSS!!

....And oh yeeeeeeeeeahhhh. Nate Dakota.

BIG RISK BIG REWARD?! I will stick your head in the ball return......and get charged for it. It'll be worth it. Just give me my PBA card......


03-25-09, 01:45 PM
::Aaron Roddick is in his penthouse gym in New York City, shirtless staring at his body in the mirror in awe, posing::

RODDICK: Magnificent....

::Roddick kisses the reflection of himself in the mirror as the “The Captain” David Richter walks in with his bag::

RICHTER: You two should get a room together.

::surprised, acts nervous and then starts laughing::

RODDICK: I knew you were there all along. I was just putting on a little gun show. ::flexes his arms:: Late to gym again?

RICHTER: I was busy visiting some sick children in the hospital.

RODDICK: When you aren't blessed with my natural genetics, you have to work ten times harder. You have to give up all this public relation BS.

RICHTER: There wasn't any press there.

RODDICK: Did you forget to set it up through the agency?

RICHTER: I didn't tell them. They always make a circus out of things for doing the right thing.

RODDICK: Yeah, F the press! They are always looking to tear you down. They won't beat me and they can't beat me. Especially with the raw ability that I have...

RICHTER: That is spirit. You have to focus on your match with Jimmy Donovan. Your body looks good to go, have you been training with the amateur wrestlers I brought in.

RODDICK: Nah, what are those amateurs going to teach a professional like myself? You waste all your time in the gym working against those guys, sometimes as early as four in the morning, instead of being in the gym trying to put on twenty more pounds of muscle.

RICHTER: I do what works for me, you do what works for you. But it couldn't hurt to spend more time in the ring...

RODDICK: I'm taking on a cowboy. The most action he gets 2009 is when he accidentally milks the bull instead of the cow.

RICHTER: He is a former LVW World's Heavyweight Champion.

RODDICK: Another star of yesteryear who thinks he can hang with a modern day athlete... Tell me, did he ever beat Aaron “A-Rod” Roddick on his way to winning the title?

RICHTER: No, but...

RODDICK: Exactly, And he never will, come on Da-Ric, lets head to Vegas...


03-25-09, 08:07 PM
(From black, we fade into the murk of the Chronic Cave, the hideaway and base-of-operations for the dynamic professional wrestling tag duo, the former CHRONIC COLLIZION!! It’s more of a basement than a cave, actually. A low-hanging blanket of mist lingers over the room, which is furnished with couches and coffee tables plucked from dumpsters and decorated with a variety of band and film posters and a plethora of multi-colored and psychedelic tapestries, sheets, and curtains. It’s the kind of place one would come to if they were looking for a place to be while tripping balls…)

(While a Black Sabbath vinyl plays in the background, we find two sofas occupied with two sleeping forms, both being “The Former ESCAPE ARTIST” Erik Black and “The Ex-RAGING RUSSIAN” Ivan Dalkichev. Both of them are snoring loudly at two distinctively different tones that seem to obnoxiously grate together.)

(This lull is quite appropriately broken by something equally obnoxious.)


(Mid-snore, Erik Black’s arm SHOOTS straight into the air with his cell phone tightly clenched in his fingers. He quickly rouses himself and answers the phone, only slightly awake.)

Erik Black
Uhm, hullo…?

Las Vegas Wrestling?! You’re BACK?!!

…awesome, dude.

…you want me to come back as a talent rep? For… HIM?

Do you think I’m CRAZY?! There’s NO WAY I’d be your talent rep again! Because of all the trouble that guy caused, I turned to WEED to deal with my stress! Now I’m a textbook STONER!!

…although, strangely, I have no problem with that.

Well, wait a moment… I may not be able to help you out, but I think I can refer you to somebody who can…

(Flash Forward: We quickly cut to a charter bus pulling up outside the gates leading into VALHALLA STUDIOS in Las Vegas, Nevada. For specializing in adult entertainment, the studio looks remarkably similar to the kind of lot you’d see in Hollywood. Stepping off the bus and onto the pavement, standing at a meager 5’7”, is a man in his mid-twenties. Black’s phone conversation continues.)

Erik Black
His name is IGGY DORKJANKER. He lives in the Las Vegas area, and he could use a job…

(Iggy looks like he hasn’t crawled out from behind a computer screen in a good while. His acne-riddled faced lights up as he gazes upon the porn mecca standing before him.)

Erik Black
How do I know him? Well, he’s a friend of mine living there in the Las Vegas area. Actually, uh… he’s my guildmaster in World of Warcraft.

(Like a kid on Christmas Eve, Erik Black’s potential replacement approaches the security booth at the front, flashing the LVW badge hanging by a lanyard around his neck with fanboy-like enthusiasm. The horned-helmeted dwarf on duty gives him the sign to pass, and resumes rifling through the Hustler in his hands. Iggy steps into Valhalla Studios, gawking at everything around him with a perverted grin.)

Erik Black
Why am I recommending him? Well, it’s not quite because I think he’s the right person for the job… but I think he can benefit by hanging around you know who. Iggy’s, uh… he’s a different kind of guy…

(Iggy stops dead in his tracks as a pair of bikini clad “actresses” amble by. They look perfect in all the right places. He nearly melts in place.)

Erik Black
Anyway, he’s also a HUGE Olvir fan, so I’d be willing to bet he’d do it for next to nothing. If you’re interested, give him a call…

(Peering further up the lot, LVW’s latest staff acquisition spots the building he’s looking for: The infamous Studio 69. Eagerly, he approaches it, grabbing the handle to the first door he sees and stepping inside. The camera pans up to spot a lit up bulb beneath a sign that reads, “DO NOT ENTER WHEN LIT: FILMING IN PROGRESS.”)

(We cut to inside, where Iggy Dorkjanker has walked straight into a pitch black studio.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Darn! Where’s the light switch in here?

(Deprived of his sight, Iggy wanders forward… until his hands find the brass knob of an unmarked door.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Let’s see what’s behind door number one…

(As curious as a cat with its nose in a blender and its paws dangerously close to the puree button, Iggy gives the knob a twist and steps through…)

(…and right onto a well-lit soundstage in front of a row of lights and cameras, as well as a number of confused crewmembers. The stage is set up in a way to make it look like a standard Las Vegas hotel room, even having a window revealing a matte background of the city lit up at night. Iggy’s rabbit-like eyes pop open as he realizes his mistake.)

(From off-camera, we hear an irritated voice bark commands.)

“What the HELL?! That wasn’t your cue, dummy!”

(The crew members—average shmoes who make a diet on burritos—promptly part as a shorter man stomps onto the stage in a huff. He’s short, corpulent, fake-tanned, and greasy. He couldn’t be anybody other than the director. The LVW talent rep appears to recognize him, by the way his jaw drops.)

Iggy Dorkjanker

Tommy Salami
That’s “THE MEAT” to you, kid! Are you trying to screw up this film?

Iggy Dorkjanker

Tommy Salami
Come on, kid, I ain’t got time for this! The star of the show can’t wait any longer!

Now get back behind the door and don’t come out until you’re supposed to!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uhm… okay…

(Reluctantly, Iggy takes a step back through the doorway, before critically acclaimed porn director Tommy “The Meat” Salami forcibly slams the door on him. Salami wipes a glaze of sweat from his forehead before turning back to the crew.)

Tommy Salami
Alright, again… from the top.

(The crew get to work doing there random studio duties. Salami comes off the stage and points off camera.)

Tommy Salami
Pixie… you ready?

(The camera cuts over to a shapely young brunette in a silk red and black robe coming out of her chair and onto the stage.)

Yeah, sure.

Tommy Salami
Then let’s get this rollin’!

Give me LIGHTS! Give me CAMERA!




(It’s another hot night in the desert, and Las Vegas is on fire. Alone in her high-rise hotel room, Pixie is feeling a little hot herself. Leaning against the bed, she sighs.)

Ho hum… another boring night in the City of Sin. Once again, I’m up here… ALONE… while my loser husband is downstairs losing half his savings on the craps table.

I hoped when I came to Las Vegas, I’d leave with something I’d NEVER forget…

(A wry smile crosses her face.)

Maybe I’d even be fortunate to cross paths with HIM… the famous pornstar Viking that ventures the streets of this city looking for women to f*ck like a jackhammer!



(With a pouting grunt, Pixie’s trip up in the clouds makes a hard landing back into the land of reality.)

But no, instead, I’m stuck here again. This is turning out to be the worst honeymoon EVER!

What I wouldn’t do for a good lay right about now…

(She pauses for a beat, glancing oddly at the door.)

I said, “What I wouldn’t do for a good lay right about now!”

Tommy Salami
That’s your cue, stupid!

Iggy Dorkjanker

(The door suddenly comes swinging open as a short, pimple-faced basement dweller wanders into the room, looking around nervously and occasionally glancing at the camera.)


Oh, honey! You’re back from the casino!

(Pixie’s “husband” suddenly catches sight of her as she reclines herself upon the bed, seductively running a finger down the edge of her robe. The color seems to drain completely from his face.)

Iggy Dorkjanker

After all that gambling, you must be EXHAUSTED! Why don’t you come lay with me here on the bed?

Iggy Dorkjanker

(Rather than moving right away, the “husband” is frozen in place as his eyes scan the woman on the bed from head to toe. She rolls her eyes, now clearly annoyed.)

Honey, get your ass over here and lay with me on the bed.

(With jerky, robotic movements, he stammers over to the bed and takes a seat. Pixie sits up and scoots closer to him. He genuinely looks like this is the first time he’s ever so much as shared breathing space with a woman, much less sat on a bed next to one.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
U-uhm… h-h-hi, dear! I’m, uh… f-f-feeling so, uh… aroused right n-now…

(Pixie glances off-camera, arching an eyebrow. Obviously, that’s not a line from the script she recalls. She decides instead to just roll with it. It’s porn, people… we’re not watching it for the acting ability.)

Oh, honey… I’m so hot and wet right now… I just want you to take me…

Iggy Dorkjanker
U-uhm… t-t-t-take you where?

(She’s now noticeably losing her patience, but continues to be as forward as she can. Sitting up and arching her back, Pixie pulls away at the robe slightly, revealing the bountiful mammaries tucked within a tiny bra beneath. The “husband’s” eyes nearly pop out of his head.)

Oh honey, stop TEASING me! You’re getting me so excited my nipples are getting hard! Here, have a look for yourself!

Iggy Dorkjanker

(His hands trembling uncontrollably, he reaches out to take ahold of her ripened bosoms…)


(Without warning, the wall EXPLODES into a cloud of dust and plaster. A horned shadow suddenly falls upon the “husband’s” stunned face.)


(Five TREMENDOUS fingers shoot forward like the strike of a cobra, latching around his neck and taking a firm grip. With a startled YELP, he’s yanked two feet off the ground and brought face to face with a MADLY GRINNING VIKING!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
STAND ASIDE, Puny One! The “Butt-Dominator” OLVIR ARSVINNAR, the Father of A THOUSAND BASTARDS, has come to FULFILL THE DESIRES of this bountiful maiden!

Iggy Dorkjanker

Olvir Arsvinnar
Why don’t you take a stroll down the strip OUTSIDE, while I take a stroll down hers DOWN UNDER?? HA HA HA HA!!

(The boisterous, golden-bearded titan in wolfskin breeches douses the poor man in a layer of saliva as his laughter booms in his face at point blank range with volume that could deafen, or perhaps kill, small children. In a seemingly effortless act, the Norseman hoists the smaller man over his shoulders and spins him around like a cyclone, sending high-pitched screams through the air. From the bed, Pixie looks on in astonishment…)

(Then all at once, Olvir RELEASES his projectile… violently HURLING him through the window and straight into the matte background! Outside, a body hits the floor, followed by a pained moan… but in the hotel room, the Viking’s bold blue eyes find the woman reclined before him.)

OH, GREAT OLVIR!! Thank the GODS you’ve come!

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! NEVER shall a woman be left UNSATISIFIED as long as the GREAT OLVIR has a say in it! NOW, supple wench… prepare your NOBLE LOINS as my THROBBING GREATNESS enters your WOMANHOOD, and the DOMINATION shall commence!

(A single SWIPE OF HIS ARM is all it takes, and the robe is TORN off her body, revealing the scanty undergarments beneath! She YELPS with delight as the muscle-bound Viking FLIPS her over and bends her over the bed. He’s about to jump right in, when…)


(The exclamation causes Olvir to freeze in place with an absolutely INSULTED expression.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Who DARES interrupt the GREAT OLVIR in the act of DOMINATION!? Such a transgression must be paid in DECAPITATION!!

Tommy Salami
Sorry, Olvir… there’s some idiot in the shot ruining all the footage.

(Olvir glances over to the window…)

(…peeking inside, even with busted glasses ajar on his bruised, pimply face, is Iggy Dorkjanker. Based on the expression on his face, we can be happy we’re not seeing the lower part of his body.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! The Great Olvir is VEXED by these incessant interruptions!


(Salami walks back onto the set, shaking his head.)

Tommy Salami
I’m sorry about the problems, Olvir… really. You want to take it again from the top?

Olvir Arsvinnar
NAY, Meat Man! A RESPITE is in order! If anybody needs the Great Olvir, he shall be in his trailer!

(In a huff, Olvir walks off the stage, nabbing Pixie over his shoulder as he marches off. Seeing his client walking away, Iggy Dorkjanker quickly zips up his fly and hurries after him.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh, excuse me… Mr. Arsvinnar?


Olvir Arsvinnar

(The force of his voice is enough to knock Iggy on the ground. The horny Viking continues on his way, while Iggy quickly scrambles back to his feet and follows once again.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Sorry to bother you, sir! I’m a HUGE fan of your work!

Olvir Arsvinnar
HMPH!! Perhaps it would be in your interest, FOOLISH ONE, to admire the Great Olvir’s PERFECTION on DVD, instead of sneaking in the LAIR of the Butt-Dominator!

(Olvir pops through the exit door with Iggy close on his heels, and back out onto the lot. They come upon the Norseman’s “trailer”… which, more accurately, is a full-sized DRAGON SHIP parked right outside. Olvir starts up the plank leading to the deck, still trying his best to ignore the man following close behind.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
There are THINGS here that meager ones such as yourself have no eyes for! Things you could NEVER fathom with your feeble mind!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, but wait… I’m not really a tourist. You see, I’m with Las Vegas Wrestling.

(Olvir stops in place.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(He sets the woman down and gives her a firm SLAP on the ass.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BELOW, wench! Spare my GREATNESS five minutes, and the DOMINATION of your noble hind shall begin!

Oh, I can’t WAIT!

(Pixie hurries off as Olvir crosses his broad arms over his chest and turns his attention to the frail man who is clearly a whole foot shorter than himself.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Yes, LAS VEGAS WRESTLING… the gladiatorial circus that served as the BIRTH of the professional wrestling greatness that is OLVIR! I must tell you, weakling, of the DELIGHT and RAPTURE that overcame me when I learned of its return! FINALLY, the GREAT OLVIR has returned to his new home, the CITY OF SIN, where he will continue to pursue his destiny of being LORD AND MASTER of this delicate yewel of the desert!

But now, even in my INFINITE WISDOM, I come to wonder WHY such a prestigious brotherhood would send one so TINY and INSECT-LIKE as yourself to be in my NOBLE PRESENCE! Tell me now, fool… WHY have you sought out the Great Olvir?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, I’m your newly assigned talent representative! Pleased to meet ya!

Olvir Arsvinnar
YOU?! Impossible!! What has become of Erik the Black?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, Erik? He’s the one that got me the job! He said with his current pot addiction, he’d have trouble keeping up with you.

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! This DISPLEASES the Great Olvir very much! Why could the Gods of Las Vegas be so HONORABLE as to give my greatness a MIGHTY WARRIOR, the likes of which I could relate to! Instead, I’m given someone so SMALL and BEARDLESS!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, uh… I’m sorry if I don’t quite measure up to your expectations. But I’m afraid we’re stuck together.

(Iggy extends his hand, which Olvir looks at incredulously.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
The name is Iggy Dorkjanker! Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Great Olvir!

(The Viking glances reluctantly at the open hand before him, before finally giving in and taking it in his massive grasp.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Well met then, “Iggy Dork-Yanker.”

Iggy Dorkjanker
Ah, it’s Dorkjanker—

(Iggy’s face shows a suddenly expression of PAIN as the Norseman squeezes his hand harder. Something can be heard popping. The Viking narrows his eyes and gets inches away from his face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(He releases the handshake, leaving Iggy to rub his aching hand.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Okay… whatever you say, Great Olvir…

So where do we go from here? I’m still kinda new to this “talent rep” thing.

Olvir Arsvinnar
You are ignorant of your own DUTIES?! HMPH!!

Very well, Iggy the Dork-Yanker! I shall give you your first assignment! As you well know, the Great Olvir awaits his first challenge since making his MUCH ANTICIPATED RETURN to Las Vegas Wrestling!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, that’s right! Richard Andrews is his name. I suppose you want me to find some info on your opponent, so you know what you’re up against?

Olvir Arsvinnar
NAY, FOOL!! The Great Olvir needs NO KNOWLEDGE of his foolish foes in order to SMITE them! There is not a FORCE UPON THE EARTH that can WITHSTAND my UNYIELDING MIGHT, and this Richard of the Anders is no different!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Then what will you have me do, Great Olvir?

Olvir Arsvinnar

(His voice BOOMS with such resonance that it again knocks Iggy over, this time causing him to roll a few times down the plank and hit the asphalt hard. Regardless, he nods up to his client standing on the deck of the dragonship.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Right-O, Olvir! One Vitamin Water coming up!

Olvir Arsvinnar
BE OFF, meager Ignatius! There is a BOUNTIFUL MAIDEN below that requires my IMMEDIATE ATTENTION!! As long as her TENDER HIND patiently waits without my GREATNESS, she grows EVER ANXIOUS of my ROCK-HARD GRIP to take her in my arms!!

And my rock-hard D*CK to take her ARSE VIRGINITY!! HA HA HA HA!!

(The Great Olvir bounds away, disappearing through the doors leading below deck. His new talent representative, Iggy Dorkjanker, pulls himself to his feet and dusts himself off, wandering away to fulfill his task. On this, we go to black.)

03-25-09, 08:48 PM
(Out of Character: Sorry so brief!)

Bowling. ... ... I've got to ask, Jack, and I ask as respectfully as is possible.

What are you doing in this sport? What are you doing, booked to wrestle a pro... Why aren't you, pardon the painfully easy pun, polishing your ball somewhere? It's clear to me in your every word, deed and action... That your passion lies not within the squared circle... But on the lanes.

I'll give you all the credit in the world, Hudgins. The sport, the art, of bowling requires the mind of a mathematician and the finesse of a great, classical painter. But... You and I, I'm sorry to break it to you, aren't booked in a Head to Head Bowlathon - as much fun as that sounds - we're stepping into a wrestling ring. And the sport, the ART, of wrestling requires tools much different than that of bowling.

Those pins you knock down... The pawns at your mercy... They offer zero resistance. They don't dodge your assault and they have neither the will or ability to push back.

You can count on some resistance when we square off, Jack. Resistance to spare.

I'm not looking to be the focus of your next decades-long sports-obsession like our friend, Walter Ray, but unfortunately I have to see to it that history repeats itself. That Jack Hudgins brushes against greatness in his calling-of-the-week and chokes in dramatic fashion. I have to be the Hand of Destiny once again. Heh.

Been a while.

Listen, Jack. You're going to think this is personal. People who exhibit symptoms of Paranoid Schitzophrenic Disorder usually do. But this isn't only business... It's the way it has to be.

And I'll see you there.

03-26-09, 11:20 AM
(THE V/O CHANTS BEGIN..........)





(slow motion)



(Camera opens up to walking into a bowling alley with the double doors sliding as he makes his entrance. Totally decked out in his bowling gear, rolling bag and all. Jack 7-10 Hudgins approaches the counter to simply grab a lane to free throw)

COUNTER LADY: Yes sir, how can I help you?

SEVEN TEN: Ahhh yes. I would love a lane.

COUNTER LADY: Sure..........LANE 28, do you need shoes?

(Hudgins grips his one bag up to his chest and kisses it)

SEVEN TEN: Oh no, that is not needed here.

COUNTER LADY: Well enjoy sir.

SEVEN TEN: Hold up! How much are games today?

COUNTER LADY: Games are $4.25 a piece sir.

SEVEN TEN: WHAT?! Four and a quarter? Your kidding me?

(Jack Hudgins makes kisses with his mouth towards the back counter lady, picks up his bag and walks out. Scene takes us to the side of the Alley Way as he is placing his bowling glove over his hand)

SEVEN TEN: Four and a quarter a game? They have no idea who I am. They forget I'm a professional bowler. In order for me to make that FOUR DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE CENTS I must show up at LVW BIG RISK......



I have an open challenge to Walter Ray Williams and his pesky career.



Nate Dakota, I want you! A simple FOUR DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE CENTS! I'll even let you be half the man and use two fingers instead of using all three.

(Hudgins running back and fourth extending his hand as if he is practicing for his next shot. He abruptly stops with the camera to his back)


Walter Ray Williams will pay.....and so will Nate Dakota

Have you ever stepped foot into the squared circle lanes? Me neither, but I'm sure it AIN'T pretty. I pray to god you paid all your late fees.



The Great Eye
03-29-09, 08:02 PM
This is a Royal Rumble style Battle Royal, winner will become LVW Champion.

30 characters can enter, if we don't get 30, I'll just bust out jobbers to cover the extra spots.

3 RP max for any character, if you use 2 or more characters in a promo, that counts towards the limit for all of them.

Anyone can enter, so long as their character isn't in another league on FW.com.

Rp Deadline is April 11th Midnight PDT.

Any angles/segments should be sent in by then as well.

Already in the High Stakes Battle Royal and having drawn numbers are

#2 Richard Andrews

#6 Aaron "A-Rod" Roddick

#10 Jack "7-10" Hudgins

#15 J1D

#16 Super Spade

#20 Olvir Arsvinnar

#25 "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan

#27 Nate Dakota

Having not drawn numbers but scheduled to appear

"Broadway" Johnny Doll

Bill Bellmoth

The Captain

The Spaniard

Good Luck

04-01-09, 07:32 PM
(FADEIN to the inside of Jack SEVEN TEN Hudgins apartment. A simple fireplace lit explains the setting as the camera pans around the room slowly on the former PBA member exposing every single trophy or plaque he's been awarded.....)

HIGH SCRATCH GAME: Jack Hudgins 300


HIGHEST AVERAGE: Jack Hudgins 231

(Camera continues to pan around the room without a sound and exposes other paraphernalia on the wall of fame of SEVEN TEN. Bowling towels, rosin bags are pinned onto the wall almost like voodoo dolls that have belonged to Walter Ray Williams Jr. While the camera pans around the room you hear a voice in the background making a phone call on speaker phone to a local bowling alley )


COUNTER LADY: Hello, thank you for calling AMF Centereach NY lanes, my name is Judy, how may I help you today?

SEVEN TEN: Ahhh, yes Judy. This is SEVEN TEN speaking.

COUNTER LADY: Seven ten?

SEVEN TEN: You got it baby, bowler extraordinaire all over this world. Now listen, I need to know how many lanes your mother ship carries.

COUNTER LADY: Mother ship?

SEVEN TEN: Come on baby, get it together.

(...shouts into speakerphone)


COUNTER LADY: We have 30 lanes sir.

SEVEN TEN: OHHHH, that will be perfect. I need to rent 30 lanes for a birthday party Judy.

COUNTER LADY: 30 lanes?

SEVEN TEN: Yes Judy, I need 30 lanes.

COUNTER LADY: Sir, do you understand that 30 lanes is the entire premises?

SEVEN TEN: Uhhhh, yeah of course Judy. It's a birthday party.



(Judy the counter lady hangs up as JH continues to speak into the phone)

You see Judy, most of my approaches are 16' long; they are required by the ABC to be at least 15'. TWO! Start of the bowler's motion, ending with the start of the delivery, which is when the ball begins its final swing forward to the release. It's what is required in a great bowler like myself Judy. Do you understand?




(JH slams his fist onto the phone and the camera finally shows a shot of him on his back wearing tighty-whities. He chucks the old 1990 cordless phone across the room)



04-02-09, 08:29 PM
Never been a lucky guy.

(OPEN: Black, red, and silver LVW High Stakes Battle Royale backdrop. Dakota stands before it, not truly facing the camera.)

I didn't come to Las Vegas looking to come out ahead. I came here hoping to break even but ready and willing to risk it all.

And you know what's great about this stage of my life? I've got nothing to lose. No wife. No kids. No mortgage. If I walk away from LVW with just last week's bulls#it DQ win under my belt, yeah, I'll be disappointed. But I didn't lose a damn thing. I'm too much of an "unknown factor" in the game right now to disappoint anyone. No one cares if I stay, go, live or die. And I've no complaints about that.

(CUT: Headshot. Giving his stubble a brief scratch, Dakota's eyes finally intersect with the shot.)

I get a kick out of taking the establishment by surprise. I doubt there's any pundit in this game who's looking for the next 30-something, never-been-a-name, 10-year vet, to suddenly sweep the nation. If it happens? Cool. If not?

(PAN BACK: Quick shrug of the shoulders.)

I've got nothing to lose.

(CUT: Hands on his hips.)

Destiny and I have had a rocky road. Many an up and a down. Destiny handed me #27 in the High Stakes Battle Royale. Nice draw. Exciting stuff.

(CUT: Tighter shot, waist up. Dakota smirks.)

Doesn't mean a damned thing. I gave up on destiny guiding ME many, many years ago ... where I enter that contest has little to do with when and how I leave it. It's my goal and my singular drive to walk in to the party late and ultimately stand alone, LAST and victorious, above the rank and file of Las Vegas Wrestling's colorful assortment of pseudo-athletes, schizophrenics, stereotypes, and sociopaths.

I'm gonna hold out, for now, on rattling off the matches participants, running them down, and damn near writing them off 'til match time. I'll wait on crawling inside their heads and kicking s#it loose. Plenty of time for that.

(CUT: Headshot.)

I didn't come to Las Vegas looking to come out ahead. But if I do, it won't be luck OR destiny that make the difference... and it won't be any of you. It'll be Me. After all... I've got nothing to lose.


04-06-09, 03:18 PM
(Fade in: to a sad looking man walking out of a backroom into a larger main room. The camera pans back to reveal that this place is a church. Suddenly, a gigantic wrestler walks into the church. He slowly walks down the aisle, past the few people praying and into the backroom, closing the door behind him. He has dark pants and very cool sunglasses. He sits down in front of the priest.)

Wrestler: Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

Priest: Confess your sins, my Son.

Wrestler: I hurt a man real bad the other day. Also, I have drinking and gambling problems. Also, I'm not sure if it's a sin or not, but I also love hookers and blow.

Priest: Say 10 "Our Father"s and 10 "Hail Mary"s and your sins shall be forgiven.

Voice: WWWHHHAATTT?!?!?!

(A slender man who was apparently eavesdropping comes bursting through the door to confessional room.)

Born Again: This disgusting sinner confesses to being a monster and you give a little homework assignment?!!? He's got demons possessing him.

Wrestler: I don't know about that....

(Born Again throws a liquid in his face. The container says holy water. Immediately, the wrestler is floored, screaming about his eyes)

Born Again: See, Father?!? Why would blessed water affect him so much if demons didn't have control of his soul?

Father: Let me see the contents of that vial.

(The father reaches for the holy water container.)

Born Again: Stealing, Father!?!? A priest should know better. Unless...

(Born Again throws the holy water in his face. The father also crumples to the ground, grabbing his eyes. Seeing the commotion, everyone else in the church flees.)

Born Again: It's worse than I thought! Even the priests in Las Vegas have damned souls! Is no one but me holy? Does no one else here have the conviction and the strength to fight off the forces of darkness?

(Born Again walks back to the wrestler on the ground, who is starting to get to his knees. Born Again grabs his forehead and begins screaming at the man in tongues. Born Again then throws the man's head back and it hits the corner of the table. The wrestler slumps down in a heap.)

Born Again: Hallelujah! Another man saved! Praise be to God!

(Born Again notices a pamphlet in the man's pocket regarding the upcoming LVW Battle Royal. He takes it and looks it over. Born Again walks out of the backroom and into the now empty main area of the church. The screams of agony of the priest are somewhat muffled now.)

Born Again: I will save this place. Not just this church...but all of Las Vegas. Just as the Lord destroyed the temple and rebuilt it in three days, so shall I do to Las Vegas. And I suppose I will start with "professional wrestling".

(He glances back at the wrestler and scowls)

Born Again: I am not immune to the putrid stink of advertisements. I see the signs suggesting that there is a battle royal coming up....even the very name is blasphemous. What is "royal" about this? The only true royalty in this world is He who controls the kingdom of heaven. *THAT* is the only thing we should be "battling" for.

(Born Again shakes his head)

Born Again: But no. That's not what's happening here, is it? Instead we have a former bowler who curses constantly and a thirty year old who openly admits to be empty and dead on the inside arguing about who is going to do what to whom and blah blah blah. Clearly, these two have not accepted True Happiness in their lives.

(Born Again raises a finger)

Born Again: But good news! For it is not to late for them or for anyone else in this battle fight thing. For I shall come, as a messenger of the Lord. I shall share the good news with them. I shall give them the Word of Life and they shall see the joy of Heaven. HALLELUJAH! But it will not be easy. The demons and sinners that possess their wretched souls shall try to defeat me. They shall try to blind me with their greed and hubris. They'll try to lay hands upon me and rip me from my spot as the Lord's good right hand.

(Born Again wags his finger at the camera)

Born Again: But I won't let them. That's not how God wants this to end. Whether it be the Cowboy guy or the Spade Guy or or the guy whose name appears to be some Satanic code or whoever else ends up in this fight, they will try to taint me. They will try to tear the garments from my back. But that is my cross to bear. And I will bear it. I will deliver this place from evil.

(Born Again glances away from the screen)

Born Again: Of course, a mission that size will not be cheap. I will need *YOUR* help, America. I need you to bring all your money and valuables and deeds to properties with high resale value and donate them to my mission. Las Vegas will not save itself, that much has been proven. There is smut and debauchery and every type of sinning you could possibly imagine here. And let no one glamorize it for you, that's just sick. If you live like a heathen dog, you can expect that I will treat you like a heathen dog. And heathen dogs need to have their faces rubbed in their mistakes before they realize the extent of their impurity.

(Born Again starts walking back towards the backroom)

Born Again: At least this "Las Vegas Wrestling" place got one aspect of its name correct. This is high stakes. There is much risk on my mission, but there is also much to be gained. By the power of prayer and the force of the Holy Spirit coursing through my body, I shall bring salvation to this place. And that's not because I am smarter than everyone else or because I am stronger than everyone. It's because I am holier and therefore better than everyone else, and because all things are possible with God.

(Born Again notices that the wrestler's wallet is sticking out slightly. He pulls it, takes the man's cash, and returns it to him)

Born Again: Salvation isn't free, of course. The Lord wants me to take this. And it's best we do the will of God. For the kingdom and the power and the glory are, of course, His forever and ever.

(Born Again scowls at the camera)

Born Again: And soon...Las Vegas will be His as well. Amen.

(Fade to black)

04-06-09, 03:29 PM
(We're back on the lot of VALHALLA STUDIOS, sodomy capital of the world. Hurring up to the doors of the infamous "Studio 69" is "The Butt-Dominator's" recently christened "talent representative," IGGY DORKJANKER, stepping up his outfit this time around with a set of blank dress pants and a blazer, to go along with his garish Kiss t-shirt. Clutched tightly in his hand is a fresh bottle of green Vitamin Water, which he carries like an Olympic torch into the sound stage.)



(We cut to inside as Iggy dodges in and out of various crew members as he makes his way to the behemoth berserker seated in the canvas chair off to the side near the set. The notorious OLVIR ARSVINNAR currently finds his nose buried in a thick paperback of "Hagar the Horrible" comics, as deep as he would stick it into any fine woman's vagina.)



Iggy Dorkjanker
Yo, Olvir! Got your cherry-limeade vitamin water right here!

(In a single motion, Olvir tosses the comic aside, BOLTS to his feet, and snatches the plastic bottle of water from his rep's hand with the likeness of a python snatching its prey in its iron-like maw. With exaggerated force, he twists off the plastic cap--and much of the neck--and gulps it down effortlessly. The empty shell of a bottle is tossed to the side, and like magic, an errant crew-member moving by snatches it out of the air and disappears out of the frame.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
THANK YOU, feeble Iggy the Dork-Yanker, for your NOBLE OFFERING of HYDRATION!! The GREAT OLVIR now feels RE-ENERGIZED, and thus PREPARED for this fine performance!!


Iggy Dorkjanker
Performance, huh? You mean your next production?

Olvir Arsvinnar
Of COURSE, foolish Ignatius!

Iggy Dorkjanker
...with all them?

(The camera pans over to get a look at the set. To say the least, it's completely PACKED with pornstars! There's easily two dozen on the scene, all women, and all drop dead gorgeous, and every one wheres their own unique outfit. Of the various costumes, we see a cowboy, a surfer, a Broadyway-type in a sequin jacket, and even... is that a bowler??)

(We cut back to Olvir, with Iggy standing nearby, jaw hanging agape.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Of COURSE, puny Dork-Yanker! The GREAT OLVIR is on the VERGE of stepping into his GREATEST ACCOLADE in the arena of Las Vegas Wrestling... and so, to PREPARE for such a HEROIC UNDERTAKING, I have assembled THIS debaucherous harem to represent the obstacles I will inevitably CONQUER upon the field of battle!

Feast your puny eyes, Ignatius... FEAST!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh believe me... I'm feasting...

(The Norseman bounds onto the set and grabs the nearest woman he can find. Coincidentally, it's the one wearing nothing but a bowling shirt, glove, and black thong.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
YOU, supple maiden! Tell me your claim to GLORY!!

(The actress checks her cue card one last time and delivers her line with the grace and chemistry of a sponge.)

Bowler Pornstar
"I deliver with sixteen inches!"

Olvir Arsvinnar

(The force of his voice is enough to knock her off her feet and nearly rip the clothes off her body.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
The Great Olvir SEES through your petty bluffs! I shall give you TWICE as many inches in your ARSE as I thrust my KINGPIN between your BOWLING BALL BUTTOCKS!! HA HA HA HA!!

(With a hearty GRUNT, the muscled marauder picks her up off the ground and tosses her to the bed. He quickly turns to another woman, this one wearing nothing but a red thong, and... the numbers "2" and "7" taped like pasties over either breast. Coincidentally, it's Pixie, from Olvir's previous feature.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
And YOU, noble women of the number 27! What makes you even BELIEVE you can withstand my GLORIOUS LOINS??

(Pixie pulls out her own cue-card and delivers her line.)

Pixie the 27th Rumble Entrant
"I have nothing to lose."

Olvir Arsvinnar

(The Viking spins her around and SLAPS HER ON THE ASS hard enough to flip her over onto the bed.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
There is MUCH for you to lose, such as your supple ARSE VIRGINITY!! HA HA HA HA!! But perhaps instead of troubling your FOOLISH MIND with what you might LOSE to my GREATNESS, perhaps you should focus on all that is to be GAINED for one so WEAK and FEEBLE as yourself!

A PERSONALITY, for starters! HA HA HA HA!!

(By now, all of the variously-dressed women have given their undivided attention to the Viking, who, even with his towering height, stands on the end of the bed with both Bowler Girl and Pixie clutching either leg, addressing the assembly as a whole.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
VIRTUOUS MAIDENS FROM AFAR!! Man have come here in a FEEBLE EFFORT to outlast my GREATNESS!! Though there may be many of you, NO NUMBER of GRACIOUS WOMEN or DASTARDLY FOES is enough to STOP my INVINCIBLE STRENGTH!! HA HA HA HA!!

As I will conquer the ARSES of you 29 noble wenches tonight, so as well shall my GREATNESS conquer the 29 FOOLS that await me in the Battle Royale of HIGH STAKES!! THEN... when the WORLD has witnessed my VICTORIOUS STRENGHT upon the battlefield, I will fulfill my destiny and be crowned CHAMPION of this great city known as Las Vegas!!

All will KNEEL at the sight of my MIGHTY LOINS!! HA HA HA HA!!


(Laughing maniacally, the Great Olvir disappears beneath a pile of women as they all at once leap upon him. While the debauchery begins, the camera pans over to Iggy Dorkjanker standing just off the set.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oooohhhh MAN!! This is so HAWT!!

You need any help in there, Olvir?

(He gets no answer. Instead, between bursts of the Viking's uproarious guffawing, a SWEATY PAIR OF FUR-LINED BRITCHES flies into his face. Iggy peels it off and drops it with disgust.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh... okay, I'll just sit tight and take notes, I guess.

(As Iggy wanders off to go find a pillow to hold in front of his pants, we go to black.)

04-06-09, 06:36 PM
(FADEIN: JUST ONE DUDE...is sitting on his apartment beanbag, shirtless and wearing a hemp necklace)

J1D: How's it hanging Las Vegas? It's me...J1D...your most favorite awesome wrestler dude, who is not only a wrestler but a surfer and environemental entrepeneur as well...coming right atcha with some news on the ultra high stakes battle royal, dudes.

But first, I have something to say to a little somebody named Superspade. ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME BRAH? I totally offered to make peace with you, maybe even share some of my bud, but you just had to be an extreme buttwipe about it, didn't you? Not cool dude...NOT COOL!

So from now on, I will remain totally cool with anybody who is willing to party with me, EXCEPT YOU, SUPERSPADE! I am a man of peace, but trust me dude, I will completely mess up your little pizza face in front of the Vegas crowd brah.


Seriously brah, I'm coming after you at this high stakes thing!

As for everybody else, dudes, nothing personal, but seriously...I NEED THAT TITLE! How the hell am I supposed to get home, dude? I need that title in the most desperate of ways. So if I have to throw you on your butt from the top rope, don't be all sour-like with me, 'cause I'm just one dude trying to do his thing.

Just one dude trying to win some gold.

Just one dude looking to party...

And in the end, just one dude gets to leave that ring champion. So hear it loud and clear, bros...I am just that dude.


04-06-09, 10:37 PM
The scene is outside Pure Nightclub for LVW's High Stakes Pre-Party. Cowboy Jimmy Donovan stands by in a silvery silk shirt, pearly white cowboy hat, black and gold patterned cowboy boots... and yes, his Mandalay Bay-mandated wrestling trunks.

JD: Yee-haw! Well ain't this grand? Not only did I done draw number 25 in the High Stakes Battle Royale, I get to be the guest of honor at this here party fer the crownin' of the new LVDubya Champion, which should be me, which will be me. Y'all know that I ain't never lost that title. And in fact, I done proved how serious I was about gettin' it back last time we were all together for an LVDubya event.

Aye-Rod may notta been the same tranny-lovin' baseball guy I met back in New York that one time, but he found out what it was like to get in the way of a man deeee-termined to get his prize possession back. I once had to fight tooth 'n nail to get my prized leopard print g-string back from a weightliftin' brothel. Them hookers ain't know what hit 'em. I think I sent their madam to the Eye-See-You. Dang if she done regretted darin' me to throw an elbow into her cooch.

So if you think that was an extreme reeeaction to a pair of skivvies, well, what do y'all think's gonna happen when I go after the thing that I done treasured more than anything else I ever had in my life? Well, I think it means that all the other twenty-nine fellers in this battle royale better watch their behinds, because I'm comin' faster than a speed addict virgin at the whorehouse for his first time. I'm hittin' harder than a weightlifter with an iron penis. There ain't nothin' that's gonna keep me from gettin' what I ain't never lost.

But now, I'm gonna go and get my partaaay on! I could wrangle myself a three way wit' Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson, but I don't like gettin' it on wit' another dude. Besides, y'all know what I like doin'. AND THAT'S DOIN' HOOKERS! YEEEE-HAWWW!

Jimmy heads into the club and several shrieks are heard. I wonder why. Fade to the LVW logo.

04-07-09, 10:17 PM
(CUTTO: JUST ONE DUDE...outside of Pure nightclub, pacing back and forth shirtless in his hemp necklace, flip flops, and blue board shorts. Raggedy blonde hair hanging down past his shoulders, growing out a beard, he kind of resembles "The Dude" from The Big Lebowski on this particular night. He's also carrying around a surfboard. We can hear screams of laughter and joy emanating from Pure; meanwhile J1D is outside and PISSED!)

J1D: Naw dude, this just ain't right! (looking at the ground, kicks around loose pieces of pavement) I'm out here looking like a total joker due to the totally NOT-awesome fact that I miss the beach so much I just wandered from my apartment out here with my gnarley surfboard hoping there would be some waves anyway...(deep breathe)...


This BUTT-BOY called Jimmy Donovan is in there partying with all these yuppies and mega-millionaires at a brutally expensive Vegas nightclub!!! WHAT THE F*CK, BRAH?????!!!! I'm sorry for cursing, but- WHAT THE F*CK BRAH????!!!!! Did I not just completely explain to all you guys my situation? (slowly) I'm-trying-to-get-my-moped-back-to-Cali. What don't you dudes understand about that? A wave is coming right at me, I'm most definitely in the impact zone, and when this thing breaks I DO NOT wanna be wiped out, ya feel me brahlics?

(THROWS DOWN his board in a fit of anger, grabbing his hair and yelling)


Ok, deep breaths Just One Dude, deep breaths. But how can you people at home blame me for going all out aggro when turdlicker Donnovan is in there hanging out with people who no doubt are wearing skins made in sweatshops? Maybe you should borrow my book of Gandhi quotes or something, cause like don't you totally get that materialism is getting little Chinese kids killed in Asia? (Whispers) Duuuuude....that's f*cked up!

Seriously guys, while you're at home snacking on gnarley grindage, check out my top two reasons why you all should just be friends with me, yet at the same time let me win the LVW title:


Numero Two: I would be totally down for just giving the title back in another LVW lottery battle royal next month, seeing how this one would have went totally bad-ass if you actually let me win!!!! Plus you can have my surfboard. Ahh, naw, dude, sorry, on second thought I just gotta go ahead and still bring it back with me anyway! But seriously, LVW, just do another battle royal next month!

Guess what though?


Shyaaa! 'Cause too many people here have f*cked with me now! I was willing to just be mad at Superstupid Spade for what he did to me, and be content witholdin' my holden-caufield from only him...but now the DEAL IS OFF with the rest of you too!!!! F this, brah! All of you are getting Chill Pills and going over the top rope now, and NO ONE gets to share my spliff afterwards either!!!! And Jimmy Donovan, that ESPECIALLY goes for you, Maharashi!

It really bites that I can't be friends with any of you now, but I'm gonna cry a teary singlet like I'm the lonely Indian or something!

As for the fans, brahs, I still have much love for you dudes! You most definitely have J1D's respect and love. You guys went nuts for me, and it was bodacious in an awesome way. I'll never forget the way I was treated by LVW fans, just wish I could say the same for my co-workers! Know now, I swear on my surfboard, that if I were to win this high stakes rumble, I would not immediately vacate the title and ride my moped to Cali! At least not yet. I promise, as my reward to the most dedicated and gnarley fans in the world next to surfing fans, that I would stick around and defend the title for as long as I could without running dry of my parents' loot. I'm already dirt baggin' it as it is, so just hang tight dudes!

Man, Donovan, I really f*cking despise you right now, brah. You have some serious cojones to be in there, drinking up twenty dollar drinks while I spend that much per month in Ramen noodles and bodega burritos!

(Picks up his surfboard, begins to walk into the night, when he trips, falls, only to break the fall with his board. He gets back up and walks away unshaken)


04-08-09, 04:36 PM
(A car ride with SEVEN-TEN, a nameless driver, and a young aspiring film maker from college named Michael)

(Camera opens up to the backseat of some vehicle as Michael is sitting in the back there holding the camera panning around the car. The nameless driver obviously is driving and SEVEN-TEN Jack Hudgins is sitting in the passenger side wearing his bowling attire and his ball called 'SUPER FREAK' in his lap. Close up of SEVEN-TEN shows him sanding out the thumb hole with a small piece of sandpaper)

MICHAEL: So, Jack where are we heading today?

SEVEN-TEN: Michael, we are heading to this thing called a battle royal? Royal Rumble? I don't know but I heard the best bowlers in the world will be there. I swear to god, WALTER RAY better be there that no good son of a b*tch.

MICHAEL: I don't believe Walter Ray Williams Jr has entered. But one guy that will be there is Olvir Arsvinnar. One of many stars that will battle for the LVW World Title. What are your thoughts on Olvir.

SEVEN-TEN: Well, I don't praise Olvir what he does. He talks about the sleaze, I talk about the lanes. OH YES! I remember the smells from the lane finish, lane oil, pinsetter cleaner, smells that when mixed together were not thought as harmful….. but unique to the center. During holiday times that being high on the team won you a bottle of booze, a turkey or a ham, given away by the bowling center. I bowl for strikes not snatches. Does that answer you question Michael?

MICHAEL: Not really but good enough. What about J1D? How about him?

SEVEN-TEN: A1 Steak Sauce might be a dude. HELL! I might even be a dude, but make no mistake about it. You can frost your hair and have tan lines but you can't frost these balls or dry this oil up. We wear Dexter shoes to the lane son, no flip flops and no chapped ass.

(SEVEN-TEN stops sanding the hole as he blows into it checking the size. He keeps sticking his thumb in the ball and flicking it out making a popping noise. At the same time giving the poor driver a stare)

MICHAEL: Cowboy Jimmy Donovan!

SEVEN-TEN: We don't wear tight Wrangler jeans to the mother ship son. Basically there are two areas of concern I have with here. ONE! Performance. I don't like two fingered bowlers and any Cowboy that shows up to the dance knows they are cheaters and smell of sausage. TWO! Thinking. Cowboy hats are not permitted when SEVEN-TEN throws thunder. Take off the stupid hat before I stick it in the ball return.

MICHAEL: How about Born Again?

SEVEN-TEN: Throwing urine into peoples faces is also not permitted in the alley. If he wants to save anything, he must seek a coach. Once you have bowled several games and have a feel for the game, I think that it is very important and necessary to start looking for a Coach. Why? Improving your scores is essential in getting more enjoyment out of this great game. They don't scream HALLELUJAH! THEY SCREAM HHHAAAAAMMMM-BONE! Now Michael, I'm ready for my power nap, I have time for one more.

MICHAEL: Nake Dakota?


(Outraged JACK HUDGINS picks up his 'SUPER FREAK' ball, gives it a kiss and throws it through the passenger window while the car is moving at 65 MPH. Cameraman/Student Michael loses his balance and falls around in the backseat with the camera rolling. You can hear JACK HUDGINS still yelling)



04-08-09, 06:52 PM
SPANIARD: "Good evening, Las Vegans!"

(FADEIN: The SPANIARD stands in front of the official banner for Las Vegas Wrestling's High Stakes. It is black with silver lettering. In his signature red and white leather mask, the SPANIARD stands tall to the camera.)

SPANIARD: "I am sure you all remember..." (arms stretch out) "...de SPANIARD!" (brief pause) "Yes, you all do. I am sure of it."

(CUTTO: Tight shot of the mask and his glistening eyes.)

SPANIARD: "For de first time in my life, I have the chance to show everyone that us Spanish will not be counted out anymore!"

(CUTTO: Potrait view. SPANIARD flexes.)

SPANIARD: "Feast your eyes on the pure genes that run through my veins; one-hundred and seventy-six percent Spanish purebred, hermanos y hermanas. That is how it is in Spain. Totally pure. Totally Spanish. All the time. Every day. No commercials."

(SPANIARD pauses for a moment. His eyes shift from side to side, pondering his next move.)

SPANIARD: "And yes, I have brought that same tenacious, ferocious..." (raises finger) "...ten-o-cious demeanor to de ring!" (arms flailing) "For you all to see and speak of at the coolers filled with the water in which you may stand next to and speak of on Mondays after weekend vacations and orgy parties..." (takes a deep breath) "You will see the Spaniard showcase the Spanish Fly style that most only dare dream of mastering. It is something in which is dangerous, yes; but necessary, no, and probably illegal, yes."


SPANIARD: "For I am de Spaniard...and this is my playground."


04-10-09, 02:27 PM
::the camera pans in on a computer screen which is focused on a video on YouTube, an arm reaches in and grabs the mouse to press play::

BRANDON JACOBS: Hey everyone, my name is Brandon Jacobs and welcome to new Vlog! When I heard about LVW starting up, I decided to come in a month early to hit the strip and I ran into someone named Dana and he was telling me all about the joy of video blogging and how it was a great way to promote yourself and get stuff off your chest without any repercussions.

So lets talk about the big issues of the week...

It has been a week from hell. Can you believe that are some people who have the nerve not to give Shawn Michaels vs. Undertaker from Wrestlemania 25 five stars? On wrestling message boards, there has been a crap storm of controversy that won't go away over Dave Meltzer & Bryan Alvarez giving the match **** ¾ just one fourth of a star short from perfection and it won't go away. The Undertaker nearly died and the crowd was going crazy and these bastards are trying to deny him his due. Maybe if they did some more flippty doos they would have gotten an additional fourth of a star. In my opinion, it was either the best or second best Mania match I have ever seen with the possible exception Bret Hart vs. Steve Austin.

Can you believe the party of hope just hired someone who offed himself? Kutner from House has joined the Obama administration as a Public Liason. He wasn't even the SECOND best doctor on House. Maybe he can reach the all important stoner demographic though who went to see Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle.

Say what you will about W, but the world was a lot saner when he was in office, I turned on the news yesterday and heard a story about an American being kidnapped by PIRATES. When did pirates go from something little kids dressed as because they were a distant memory for Halloween into a serious worldwide threat? It will be a much better world when the only pirates people care about are leaking copies of terrible movies like Wolverine a month in advance.

American desperately needs some sanity which is why I've decided to join the LVW battle royal to determine the new world heavyweight champion. Now in a sane world, I'd be thrown out of this rather quickly with all the other great competitors in this, but I'm feeling lucky. The world has gone completely insane. I mean, I could actually win this thing and become the new world champion to Vic Waters absolute disgust OR if I lose, someone could partially restore sanity to this crazy world by throwing me over the top.

Either way, I'm sacrificing myself for the greater good, I just ask the wrestlers not to hurt me too badly. I have to hit the strip clubs after the show and the strippers don't like it when you bleed all over them.

Good night everyone and please watch the face!


04-10-09, 03:40 PM
::inside of a hotel ballroom, scantly dressed women are lineup outside the room, the camera pans in to a sign which says “Hooker Outreach Program”. Women are meeting with college and vocational councilors before coming to “The Captain” David Richter's desk where he gives them a check::

THE BOSS: What are you doing David? We have a battle royal to prepare for and we are running behind schedule on PR.

RICHTER: I was in the gym at 4AM like I was for the last week and a half. I'm just behind on the PR and these poor women have to sell their bodies in order to put fishdicks in their children's mouths. I'm just giving back to Las Vegas what I can.

THE BOSS: I really do appreciate your dedication to give back to the community, but there is championship gold on the line here.

RICHTER: If I don't get women off the streets of Las Vegas, who will? Certainly not A-Rod who refuses to even talk to me before the match because he is off gambling. I vow to get all these women back onto their feet.

THE BOSS: You are a multiple time LVW World Tag Champion. This is your chance to break free of Roddick once and for all.

RICHTER: While I may not like Roddick all of the time, we are a team and I consider him a brother and we have to be united if we want to win.

THE BOSS: If it is great that you feel that way, but what about A-Rod? A-Rod is about A-Rod and it takes two to be a team. We could always get rid of him and bring in someone else.

RICHTER: What kind of attitude is that to have and who is to say the next guy would work out any better? You have to make the best out of the situation you have instead of trying to dismiss the problem on to someone else. Man up Boss.

THE BOSS: He is becoming a PR nightmare though and for what I'm paying him, I should be able to count on him to deliver in the clutch like I can count on you.

RICHTER: He is going to a shrink to deal with those performance issues and I guarantee you that this time it will be different. He has more raw talent than anyone else in this league. If he gets it all together, he'll be unstoppable and look at his physique, have you ever seen a natural physique like that in all your life? I spend hours and hours in the gym and I still can't look like he does. I guess it is just the genetics you are born with.

THE BOSS: You could be unstoppable, you spend more hours in the gym wrestling and practice your craft than anyone I know and while I know you hate praise, nobody does the fundamentals better than you.

RICHTER: I thank you for your praise but I'm only one man.

::The Boss spots an attractive looking woman coming up in the line::

THE BOSS: Tell you what, let me take over for you. You can sign the checks later.

RICHTER: You sure you can handle this?

THE BOSS: Of course I can, these women are in good hands. Go spend some time in the gym getting ready for the battle royal. I'll take care of the rest.

RICHTER: Thank you, you are the best boss a man could ask for.

::Richter heads out the door and the Boss waves goodbye, he waits until Richter is out of sight then he waves the rest of the women in and closes the door::


04-10-09, 04:58 PM
(Cut to: Born Again, sitting in an oversized chair, almost throne-like.)

Born Again: Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4. Maybe you've heard of it? You see, the problem as I understand it, is that all of these members of LVW haven't heard of it. They are not soldiers in the army of our God. They do not follow the Bible as their written law. They trained in gyms, not in the Holy Spirit.

So they are weak. They are empty and cold and sin-ridden. I offer them salvation and they deny me. But I have faith. I have the Word. I shall bring them before the power of God, even if they are kicking and screaming all the while.

Maybe I can't save them. But they are poisoning the populace. They are false idols, pulling potentially good, God-fearing men away from church and off to their fancy spandex parties. They seek to instill all that is bad in society into the social conscience. At the High Stakes Battle Royal, they'll all put on their little superhero, flamboyant costumes and continue their attacks on the sanctity of marriage. They will convince innocent children that it is okay to fight, that it is okay to swear, and that it is okay to be sexually attracted to people of the same sex! BLASPHEMERS!

But it's okay, because I do not intend on letting this happen. I will enter that ring and I will send every other person there crashing down to the floor, down to the Hell which they have earned themselves. Because, honestly, this place is worse than I thought. I thought I knew what I was getting into when I saw the fighty matches on the TV. But this LVW, it's a whole different animal.

You have porn stars here? Guys like Olvir Arsvinnar are exactly what are wrong with this country. People from far away lands where the missions of our Lord have not reached, bringing over their heathen ideals. He peddles smut with a smile on his demon face, attempting to fool you that this type of behavior is okay. But the devil wears many faces and is the master of tricks. I shall not be fooled! You shall not distract me from my mission with your whores. I have read the tale of the whore of Babylon! "And upon her forehead was a name written, 'Mystery, Babylon the Great, the mother of harlots and abomination of the Earth.'" Revelations 17:5. Whoring has destroyed lives. Whoring attempted to destroy the Church. But whoring is just another in a long line of failed attempts. Because the power of the Lord is infinite! The Word is the strength! All whores and those who perpetuate this terrible practice shall perish in the fires of hell! Hallelujah!

And then you have "Just One Dude". Right off the bat, I knew this wasn't going to be enjoyable to sit through. Not only is your name a bastardization of language, but you're a walking embodiment of all that is wrong with the youth of America today. With your rock and roll music and your "let's surf rather than read the Bible" attitude, you are desperately attempting to circumvent the will of God. But not without a fight, I say! Sloth is one of the seven deadly sins and it is something that I will not allow! Sloth destroys the human heart and lets the devil control your mind! After all, idle hands *ARE* the devil's playthings. So Born Again will not have idol hands. I shall continue my mission to heal the LVW. Because, Just One Dude, peace is a luxury that this place simply can't afford right now. When the Lord saw Sodom, did he say, "Let's just have peace?" No. He damned that place right to Hell! So it shall be with the LVW. Those can be saved will be led to the Promised Land and the rest shall be left to the rubble.

Then you have drunken cowboys, bowlers, and effeminate Spaniards. Drinking is a sin. Swearing is a sin. Bowling is a sin. BEING AN EFFEMINATE SPANIARD IS A SIN! Honestly, what is wrong with this place? Does Las Vegas intentionally breed the worst type of human being or do you people flock here to hide from the eye of God? Well, I have bad news for you. God is omnipresent. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows what terrible thoughts run through your twisted minds! Put down the alcohol, wash out your gutter mouth,....

(Born Again pauses for a second to appreciate the hilarity of the pun)

Born Again: and stop advocating poorly defined gender roles! Spaniard, you suggest that people will talk of your possibly illegal exploits at the water cooler? Nay, I tell you! For the Word is strong and the followers are strong! I say, no one shall talk at the water cooler. This is because it is unproductive heathen behavior. If they have free time, let them spend it in mass, repenting for their sins and begging for forgiveness!

Because you are all, everybody who is watching this, sinners in the hands of an angry God! And as Jonathan Edwards so aptly put it, "there is no want of power in God to cast wicked men into hell at any moment in time." You can escape the punishment of the Lord, but only through repentance and baptism in Holy Water. If you bring the broken, sinful soul yearning for the Lord, I shall provide the Holy Water.

Finally, that brings me to Brandon Jacobs. At first, I wondered whether or not Brandon Jacobs was savable. After all, his name is "no frills" and not an obvious attempt at generating an evil, cult-like following. Brandon isn't a great Christian name like John or Paul or Jesus, but it will suffice. Second, he acknowledged the fall from the Lord that this country has taken once they voted good Christian morals out of the White House. However, his sins were numerous to make me believe he shall earn salvation. First, I am unsure what "vlogging" is, so I will assume that it is some complex sexual position. Everyone knows that sex is only permissible between a husband and wife, normal-style. Normal-style of course means man on top, fully clothed, through a hole in a comforter. Secondly, not only is he openly talking about television, which is a devilbox that serves only two functions: to spread the Word of God and to corrupt the souls of men. Since this "House" character, as I understand it, is not a priest or clergyman or God-fearing Christian of any kind, it seems this use of the devilbox clearly falls into the second character. And on top of that, you're posting spoilers about what happened! Spoilers! You wish to ruin other people's enjoyment of their devilry? That's like some kind of compound sin! I mean, that's like sinning just for the sake of sinning! And why the odd obsession with wrestling anyways? Hasn't it been established on numerous occasions that wrestling is the work of the devil? Yes. It has. And yet, here you are, arguing esoteric ratings of matches? Sounds like idol worship to me if I've ever heard it. Then, you compound that by displaying anger over the rating? That's wrath, another deadly sin. Sounds like you are on a slippery slope towards the fires of hell, my child.

But rejoice!

(Cue Up: "Awesome God")

Born Again: There is still a chance at salvation! It is my responsibility as a soldier of our Lord and savior to attempt to rescue you sinners from the darkness and bring you into the Light. Will it be easy? It probably will not be. But if the Lord is with me, who the hell can be against me? As we stand here together, on Good Friday, on the eve of the rebirth of the Christ, we are reminded of how our sins can destroy the body of the Lord. However, it also exposes the futility of the work of Man, as the Christ rose again to prominence. Just as I shall do at the Battle Royal. Amen.

(Fade to black.)

04-10-09, 09:38 PM
::Aaron Roddick is sitting by the pool in a lounge chair with two sacks of money with a big $ on it while being fed grapes by half naked blonde bombshells::

RODDICK: Must I really do this interview? I'm sort of busy right now kid.

HAL (The Boss's Son): We are on the eve on the battle royal and besides for a handful of workouts, you've just been gambling and hanging out with half naked women. If the Boss knew how much debauchery was really going on, we'd both be gone for good.

::takes off shades::

RODDICK: I'm carrying this company. All the little girls are buying posters of me. I'm God.

HAL: They certainly pay you like one but even with your tag title success, you have to prove yourself as a singles performer eventually justify your paycheck especially in this economy.

RODDICK: I have the best natural talent in the company. I have the best genetics known to man. I'm going to win the LVW World Heavyweight Title. It is my destiny and Born Again is going to know what it is like to be in the ring with God when he steps into the ring with me.

HAL: You are going to have to beat the The Spaniard and Jimmy Donovan...

RODDICK: That win by Donovan was a fluke. That Texan should thankful I didn't rape him like the last Texan I did business with. If I never wrestle another day in my life, I'm still set for life. Whatever I do now is just for pocket change.

HAL: You also are going to have to beat your friend and partner “The Captain” Aaron Roddick.

::Roddick sits back for a second in thought::

RODDICK: Hal, who knows his strengths and weaknesses better than I do? We are best friends, well, most of the time and we've been team mates forever now.

HAL: He can make the same case A-Rod.

RODDICK: There is one big difference though. Look at my lifestyle, do I look concerned constantly about what other people think of me doing all these charities and such?

HAL: He doesn't do them for PR, he does them because he is a good human being.

RODDICK: Oh he is, he is... which is why when it comes to getting down and dirty, he is never going to beat me.

HAL: The reason people started calling him the Captain though was his reputation for coming through for your team in the clutch.

RODDICK: Listen, I'm sick and tired of people questioning my ability to finish things. I mean, I know I've gone cold in some inopportune times, but before that happens, I'm tearing it up in the ring more than Richter could ever hope to get the The Captain into a position where he can win it. This time at High Stakes battle royal though to crown the new champion, I'm going to finish it and make all my detractors shut up once and for all.

HAL: You sound confident.

RODDICK: I'm A-Rod and that is all that needs to be said.

::puts his shades back on and sits back in the lounge chair::


04-11-09, 03:15 AM
(FADEIN: The casino floor at The Venetian. Women in fancy get-ups are serving drinks to overjubilant frat boys who broke the bank to fly out for a UFC event, Japanese business men as they excitedly roll dice, and collect extremely generous tips from well-dressed men who like to impress females by going "all in." A black man in 3-D shades and glitter on his face goes crazy celebrating a jackpot near the slots machines. Finally, among them all is JUST ONE DUDE..., being kindly escorted through the crowd to the Blackjack tables by the Venetian's casino manager. There's something different about J1D: he's all dressed up, looking almost like...a dealer?)

CASINO MANAGER: Don't worry, everything's gonna be fine, uh...-what did you say your name was again, young man?

J1D: You don't need a name when you're just one dude looking for adventure, yet TOTALLY willing to party along the way! But just so ya know, that's what they're calling me around these parts my good man. J1D for short, brah.

MANAGER: You don't say? Well Mr. J1D, I'll have you know that Henry Goldale is a very close personal friend of mine. Why, I had Thanksgiving dinner with him and Mrs. Goldale and their wonderful, beautiful family, oh, what was it- five, six years ago? Aaaanyway, we're all very appreciative of him bringing those LVW events back to Vegas given the harsh economic climate, and I want you to know that the Venetian will most certainly help you earn the money you need to rebuild that Crunchberry something or other so you can fly back to California or outer space or wherever you're gonna take that thing!

J1D: Haha, good thinking maharashi! But is there anything else I could do? Maybe something that involves surfing, or grindage, or the four-two-zero if you catch my drift?

MANAGER: Wait a second, wait a second, wait a second...(stops)...You told me you have experience dealing Blackjack, correct? I'd like to do a favor for one of Mr. Goldale's wrestlers, but I can't just feed you to the wolves unless I know you're legit. Now you can deal Blackjack, right? Because that's what you said...

J1D: Rellllaaaxxx dude, I got this one! Me and my bros pulled some Blackjack 360's off an acid drop and NO wipeout! It's just this getup is really bummin' me out, 'cause my goal in life is to not end up a total assclown in corporate costume threads, feel me dude?

MANAGER: Oh I completely feel you- except we have a policy here, and I'm afraid you'll just have to deal with the attire while you...deal. So are you all set for the table?

J1D: No doubt in my mind, manager dude!

MANAGER: Well I'll just leave you then, and I'll be back to check up on you in an hour. Good luck!

J1D: Killer!

(CUTTO: Approx. 55 minutes later. Everyone at the Blackjack table is absolutely ecstatic. J1D is receiving cheers every time he deals)

MAN AT TABLE: Sh*t, he's got 20. 10 and a 9 for me...screw it, hit me! ... G*DDAMN! G*DDAMN! SUNUVAB*TCH, he dealt me a 3! SO CLOSE!

J1D: Darn, brah! That was a MONDO hand you played there! 22 beats 21 by my count, guess you win again!

MAN: ...he's being serious, isn't he? Well if you insist...

J1D: OK, who wants to shuffle these gnarley cards? I keep dropping them and stuff, haha...


WOMAN: This isn't right...21 beats 22, dealer! 21 is Blackjack!

(The casino manager approaches the table behind J1D)

J1D: Ahhh, it's all good, ma'am. My bro over here said he just got a new mortgage and stuff, that's killer on the wallet! Seriously dude, I want you to have these chips on my behalf.


J1D: Oh hey there spud. Why the fret? I'm gettin' paid tonight, this guy's gettin' paid tonight, everybody's just having a blast!

MANAGER: That's house money you're being so overly generous with! How can you possibly expect this place to make money if you're throwing it away, hmm?

J1D: Uhhh, good point brah, but at the same time...you said before we're in an economic crisis. So it got me thinking...if we just were a little more sharing and a lot more caring, maybe we could end the crisis? I'm alll for free money brah, cuz like, I need some too!

MANAGER: You can't work here...YOU CAN'T WORK HERE! Get out! Get out!

J1D: NOT COOL, brah! Everybody was having a blast until you showed up and totally killed the vibe! This is BOGUS!

(A delivery boy holding a pizza approaches the table; the casino manager is speechless)

DELIVERY BOY: Is there a...(looks at the receipt)...Just One Dude Looking For Adventure, Yet Totally Willing To Party Along the Way, here?

J1D: That's my name, bro!

DELIVERY BOY: I have your extre large cheese pie with sausage, mushrooms, and pepperoni. That'll be $14.50.

J1D: Certainly, my good man! (Hands the boy a $100 chip) Keep the change!


MANAGER: What is this?! Giving away chips like that?! And why on God's green earth are you order PIZZA at the table?

J1D: Well I figured if we all get hungry, why not just munch on some gnarley grindage while I deal!

MANAGER: (stares a hole through J1D)

(CUTTO: One hour later, J1D's outside the Venetian, on the street, dressed in his usual board shorts, except he's shirtless and barefoot)

J1D: SEE???!!! This is why I'm pissed at you guys for not being cool enough to let me win big at the battle royal! I temporarily sold out to the man tonight just 'cause LVW can't pay me anything more than a $500 bonus. And lemme ask something else...what's with EVERYBODY signing up for the match and then acting like total butt-tards and ASSMUNCHES for absolutely no reason? Dude, I don't know how much longer I can take Vegas for...this place sucks! Everyone's out to make money for stupid reasons- like I need a car, I need a house, I need to be famous, I need chicks. BRAH, I just don't wanna be a squatter living outside the Nevada desert! I NEED A PLACE TO LIVE, AND RIGHT NOW THAT JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE MY PARENTS' PAD IN CALI!

I don't care who you dudes think you are...Nate Dakota, Jimmy Donovan, Superspade, Aaron Roddick, Born Again, that porn star from Iceland...I'm none of that, cause I'm JUST ONE DUDE looking to re-power his fuel-efficient Crunchberry powered moped in hopes of returning home to a hero's welcome! I'm too down to earth and cool with the fans to lose to a bunch of materialistic bungholes who insist on treating me with absolutely no respect; I'm your brosef, young ones!

And by the way, I have but one thing to say to Born Again. Dude, Jesus may be dope in his own respect, but Buddah is way gnarlier! So you can totally eat it, and so can that buttmunch Jimmy Donovan! J1D's hittin' the hay at the overnight, bros. Peace out, even though I'm kind of hatin' on you right now!


04-11-09, 11:51 PM
"Hey... kid... you alright?"

Iggy Dorkjanker

(From black, we go to blurred vision that slowly comes into focus. The POV is from the ground, looking up into the concerned face of Tommy Salami.)

Tommy Salami
I said are you alright?

(We cut to Tommy's perspective, which shows a flush-faced Iggy lying flat on his back, his glasses strewn clumsily over his face.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
...w... where am I?

Tommy Salami
Dang, kid... you were only out for a couple minutes! You already forget we're standing in the middle of the Ass-Pound Capital of the World??

(We cut to a shot of Iggy still lying on the floor, Tommy kneeling over him. The dazed talent representative looks around to see various crew members tearing down light and camera equipment.)



Iggy Dorkjanker
...w... w-what happened?

Tommy Salami
What happened? Oh, I'll TELL you what happened! Something UNBELIEVABLE just happened! And let me tell you, kid, that this is going to make me MILLIONS!!

Iggy Dorkjanker

Tommy Salami
I gotta tell you, kid... I've been in this line of work for years, but what I just saw sets a new standard that I NEVER thought could be reached!

That crazy Viking... he's REALLY done it this time!

Olvir Arsvinnar



(The trumpeting sound of hearty laughter causes Salami to shoot to his feet as he's approached by none other than "THE BUTT-DOMINATOR" Olvir Arsvinnar, just walking off the set and adorned only in his trademark Viking helmet and his purple velvet robe. He bears a glaze of sweat that indicates the recent undertaking of a great feat. Even so, he bears the inane smile that almost never leaves his maddened face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
ONCE AGAIN, the GREAT OLVIR savors the taste of VICTORY! Savor with me, Salami Man!

Tommy Salami
Olvir, BABE, what you just did was--

(Before he can react, Olvir sticks two of his sausage-sized fingers beneath Salami's nose, and the director inhales so deep, his toupee nearly flips on his head.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

Tommy Salami
My GOD, Olvir! You've got the BASKIN-ROBBINS OF POONTANG on those fingers! ALL of the 31 VARIETIES!!

Olvir Arsvinnar


Iggy Dorkjanker
Um... Mr. Arsvinnar, sir?

(Olvir looks around, perplexed. He's not aware of the source of the voice. He's also not aware that he's standing directly over the prone body of his talent representative, who looks up in between the exposed thick, hairy legs of the Viking Lothario with an expression that borders between horror and fascination.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I think your ball sweat is dripping on me.

(Olvir finally notices the meager man before him and instantly looks delighted.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Effortlessly, the Viking bends over, takes ahold of Iggy's shoulders in his massive hands, and sets him upright. It takes a moment longer for the LVW talent representative to regain his balance.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
TELL ME, feeble one... what did you THINK of the GLORIOUS ACT of ANAL CONQUEST you just witnessed??

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uhm... sorry, I'm still trying to figure out what happened. I think I... blacked out.

(Tommy pats the young man on the shoulder.)

Tommy Salami
Actually, kid, before any of the action could begin, you started wailing like a little girl and tripped yourself on the boom cable as you tried running to the bathroom to squeeze in a whack job.

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh... I guess that's why my head is throbbing.

Olvir Arsvinnar
You and me both! HA HA HA HA!!

But in all seriousness, Yanker of Dorks... your utter lack of CONSTITUTION for my NOBLE and GOD-LIKE art of FORNICATION brings me some worry! Naturally, what I do is too much for some people to withstand... but those same people are WEAK and MEAGER, mere FOOLS who are better off being DECAPITATED!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Dang, Olvir... I'm sorry to have let you down. I mean, yeah, I watched a lot of your porn before, but... I guess whatever it was you were doing was just way too INTENSE and HARDCORE for even a regular fan like ME to handle it!

Tommy Salami
You missed out big time on a front row seat of the action, kid. But hey, no worries. Donny the grip got a bit too close and is still trying to wipe the taste of Olvir's mayonnaise out of his mouth.

Olvir, babe... you take a breather. Believe me, buddy, you've EARNED it this time. You let me wrap this up.

Olvir Arsvinnar
VERY WELL, Salami Man! Your praise PLEASES the Great Olvir in ways that only the noble female ARSE and a CASE OF BEEF JERKY can!

(Tommy turns away from his star attraction and starts giving orders to the crew as they continue to tear down the set. Meanwhile, Olvir's MASSIVE hand claps Iggy across the back with enough force that it almost knocks him over.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
COME, puny Ignatius! You shall see the CASUALTIES of my GLORIOUS WARPATH!!

(The towering Viking leads the much shorter talent rep over to the stage where, indeed, the casualties lie strewn about every which way in all varieties of angles. We can see a gaping hole in the flimsy backdrop from which a pair of female legs are sticking out. Olvir approaches one of the actresses, dressed in a skimpy black lingerie two-piece and... a WIMPLE?!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Gaze now upon this noble woman of the CLOTH!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Jeez, Olvir, you banged a NUN?!

Olvir Arsvinnar
OF COURSE!! Even the sacred house of the PUNY CHRISTIANS is not safe from my LUSTFUL WRATH!

Iggy Dorkjanker
You could piss off a lot of fundamentalist groups for saying something like that.

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! The GREAT OLVIR fears no MEAGER FUNDAMENTALISTS!! Take, for example, THIS wench!

(She turns her head around, and Iggy almost recoils when he sees her mouth hanging wide open at an unnatural angle. It looks like a horrible case of lockjaw.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Man, Olvir! What happened to her MOUTH?!

Olvir Arsvinnar
My thoughts exactly, Yanker of Dorks! INCESSANTLY, this SACRED WHORE would CHIDE my Greatness on the depravity of my LUSTFUL ZEAL!! Her mouth was like a SPIGOT, always pouring an endless steam of nonsense about "Sodomites" and "whoring!" It was quite a BOTHER for my all-hearing ears!

Iggy Dorkjanker
So what did you do?

(His eyebrows bouncing, Olvir takes a handful of his own crotch.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
I SILENCED her... by giving her something to PLUG UP that gaping hole of a mouth! HA HA HA HA!!

(Olvir leads him further down the bed to an actress in a flower print shirt and a hemp necklace.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
THIS particular maiden presented another problem! In this case, it was not the great Olvir's EARS that were under assault, but rather his NOSE!! There was an ODOR about her supple loins... an odor that faintly reminded me of the FREYA WEED that your kinsman Erik the Black was fond of!

Iggy Dorkjanker
So the smell was bad... how did you get around it?

(Again, the grin broadens on Olvir's face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
I PERMEATED her voluptuous form with a NEW fragrance...


Hear me WELL, Ignatius... this doe-eyed vixen has gone from kicking her meager hacky-sacks to LICKING my MIGHTY NUT-SACK!! HA HA HA HA!!

(They move on, now approaching a striking young girl adorned with a cowboy hat and a lasso around her shoulder. Iggy seems to recognize her.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Is that... PIXIE? I didn't think she had multiple roles in this feature!

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! Open your FOOLISH eyes, Ignatius! Can you not see that this is Pixie's TWIN SISTER... TRIXIE?!

Trixie the Cowgirl
Well howdy again, longhorn! Were ya'll fixin' for another rodeo?

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Take my word for it, meager Dork-Yanker... this woman is the EXPERT at REVERSE COWGIRL!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, yeah, I kinda figured that, given she's a cowgirl and all.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Of ALL the women I have thus conquered, only THIS maiden could be STRONG and VIGOROUS to withstand my UNYIELDING GLORY the longest! Her ride upon my NOBLE PHALLUS was an HONOR, to say the very least! No doubt, if it were my time, I would have BURNED AN EMPIRE just for a MERE WHIFF of her noble anus!

Trixie the Cowgirl
Well, shee-YUCKS, Olvir! You sure know purty well how to flatter this lil' prairie girl!

Olvir Arsvinnar
The caress of your SUPPLE SPHINCTER upon my THROBBING MJOLNIR put me in VALHALLA, noble wench of the kine!

(His attention is turned from the seductively grinning cowgirl to the slight tugging at his robe, coming from Iggy.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
But Olvir... was all this really necessary in order to prepare for the High Stakes Battle Royale?

Olvir Arsvinnar
OF COURSE, foolish Ignatius! Naturally, only MY ALL-KNOWING and OMNISCIENT MIND can understand the BRILLIANCE behind this glorious act! As I have emerged VICTORIOUS here, so too shall I conquer all those who stand before me in the noble arena of Mandalay Bay! Many have converged upon this Lost City of Vegas in hopes to be crowned its KING... but only the STRONGEST, FIERCEST, and HORNIEST of men should take such a claim!

I intend to be that very man! As with these wenches you see before you, my foes all bring GRIEF to my infallible senses with their WEAK and MEANINGLESS words! Only in their case, they won't be DOMINATED by my MIGHTY LOINS...

Iggy Dorkjanker
And we can all be thankful of that.

Olvir Arsvinnar
...but instead by my MIGHTY FISTS!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, Olvir... if you can wrestle as well as you can f*ck, then I wouldn't be surprised at all to see you as the next Las Vegas Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion!

Olvir Arsvinnar
Yes... CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!! ONLY THEN will I have TRULY conquered ALL there is to be CONQUERED!

(Olvir turns his attention to the assembly as a whole. Even now, some are just now waking up, trying to remember where they're at, and wondering about the cause of that sharp pain in their asses.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

When you have all finally overcome the INEVITABLE SWOONING brought upon by my great loins, you must return to the Great Olvir's longboat! Though I have righteously TRIUMPHED over you all in this but one battle, the WAR I ceaselessly wage upon YOUR NOBLE BUTTOCKS continues! HA HA HA HA!!

(Without warning, he plucks up Trixie the Cowgirl over his shoulder and bounds through the exit doors. Iggy hurries after him.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Hey, Olvir! Wait up! You think you could give me some tips at--

(WHUMP!! Without warning, Iggy trips and falls face-first on the floor, knocking himself out cold. Fade to black.)

04-17-09, 10:46 AM
(CUTTO: Film replay of J1D outside of Pure nightclub, barefoot with his surfboard)

J1D: I promise, as my reward to the most dedicated and gnarley fans in the world next to surfing fans, that I would stick around and defend the title for as long as I could without running dry of my parents' loot.


(CUTTO: J1D, in the present, laying back in his beanbag with the red and silver LVW Championship belt on his shoulder. In his hand is a bag of Frito Lays, as he stuffs them into his mouth and eventually holds the bag up to his face, pouring them down the hatch. Wiping crumbs from his beard, he holds the belt up and kisses the diamond-encrusted LVW spinner)

J1D: What's happening dudes? How AWESOME is it that I won that battle royal? This belt is beyond my wildest dreams, yet at the same time, I knew I could pull off the big kahuna when it really came down to it! And check out the gnarley spinner.. (taps it with his finger, making it spin) ...how haggard is this belt, brah?

Dudes, this has GOT TO BE the proudest moment in my entire life, prolly since the outlet store named me employee of the month. Yeah, in the end it wound up being a print error that put my name on the certificate, but for a good month everyone who mozied on into that store thought J1D was the man to see when you want to purchase some wicked threads!

Annnyway, I wanted to take this most excellent moment to address the fans who stood behind me eight thousand percent of the way. This title belongs to YOU, brah, you earned it! I'm just your most humble servant, trying to make his way in the world and perhaps smoke a few bowls while I do it. If it wasn't for LVW fans, the coolest people I have ever met EVER, I prolly wouldn't even have the motivation to get out of bed in the morning, except for when I need to smoke up and get a sip of agua now and then.

With that said though dudes, I really have to apologize. I know I said I would stick around and defend the title as long as I could until I ran out of my folks' money, but uh, the thing is...I TOTALLY ran out of their money! No, serious dudes, between winning the belt and and standing outside Circus Circus emploring people to give me their recyclable bottles, I made just enough money to rebuild my moped and buy two months' supply of Fritos, Corn Chips, and Extreme Doritos, nacho flavor.

PLUUUSSSS, (pulls out a letter) check this out. "Dear Son. Congratulations on winning your first LVW match, and being given a shot at the title. We know you can do it, and have faith in you. Your mother and I are impressed that you've been able to take care of yourself in Nevada. It's quite obvious that you'll no longer be needing our financial assistance, and we look forward to seeing you during the holidays. We are glad that you've learned to be independent and self-sufficient (after all, you're almost 30). Take care, and don't gamble...love mom and dad."

I call BOGUS dude! My dad's being way stingy, and doesn't wanna give me any more money! Weed isn't cheep in this economy brah, how do you expect me to live???? And when my parents find out I actually won the belt, then they're DEFINITELY not sending me any more coin! Dudes...I need to get home pronto! Take out food is mad expensive here, so is the weed, and worst of all...NO beachcombing cause there aren't any beaches!

Man, I really want to stay, but I feel like I have no choice but to leave. I'm the champion now, I did what I came here to do, what else is there left to accomplish? But don't bug out on me, J1D still supports the world's most brahlic fans ever, and I fully intend on making the next show, winning my final match, and saying farewell to my fans the RIGHT WAY. That's right, I'm inviting you all to a party in my lockerroom, where we'll stay up all night grinding on bagel bites and doing bong hits! And everybody gets to take a turn spinning this awesome belt, most definitely.

Before I depart here bros, I just want to say that I'm glad you got a true brahlic representing you as champion, and not one of the other posers who do NOT HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS AT HEART! I'm not the guy who's out there telling you what God to believe in (there are a bunch of gnarley ones to choose from!), I'm not out partying at some superficial club that none of you were invited to. My rule is, if everyone's not invited, then J1D's not invited! My world is non-exclusive, buds. This belt isn't even my belt, it's everyone's belt.

So when I go out there, win my last match and say farewell, I'm gonna do it as a representative for all the J1Dudes out there whose good will helped us win this belt. That's right, us. And no matter how much money my parents don't send me, I'll always remember that this bodacious wave is being ridden by a community of gnarley people, and I'm just happy to be along for the ride. Because like I've been saying brah: all I am is just one dude looking for adventure, yet totally willing to party along the way!


The Great Eye
04-20-09, 04:08 AM
All Rp Here

The Great Eye
04-20-09, 04:09 AM
All Rp here

The Great Eye
04-20-09, 04:09 AM
Rp Here

The Great Eye
04-20-09, 04:10 AM
Rp Here.

04-20-09, 05:00 PM
(FADEIN: Gazing out his apartment window through bloodshot eyes, J1D takes in a view of the Las Vegas Strip. As flashing lights reflect through the glass and onto his face, he's got an expression like "WHOOOAAAA." In his left hand, his trust surfboard. Hanging from his right? The red and silver LVW Championship belt, complete with diamond spinner. Has life ever been this good to the Dude?)

J1D: Maaan people keep asking now- "how does it feel to be champion?" And honestly brah? I feel no different from when I was just a little dude learnin' how to shred on my carbon fiber! Don't misread me brosefs, I'm totally not tryin' to act above the fray, but ya gotta understand something about me...I'm ALL about two things mainly: keeping it real at ALL TIMES with my favorite bros and brosefs, and NEVER forgetting where I came from. Ever! Ok and you can add surfing and munching on tacquitos as well...because that's some gnarley grindage if I do say so myself!

The only thing different now in the world of J1D is responsibility. But it's not like a stupid responsibility, like being early to work or doing essays or cleaning your room or staying the same boring job for five years straight. It's a responsibility that is uplifting yet at the same time TOTALLY gnaarrmax!!

Now not to rag on anybody AT ALL...but sometimes I like watch TV and stuff, and I gotta be honest bros...I'm not really down with what I see. Like we've got these b*tchin' champions who look sick in the ring but then when it comes down to it, they can't be completely chilled with the fans. AND THAT AIN'T RIGHT IN MY CODEBOOK, BRAH!

The way J1D has seen it, always seen it, and always will see it, is there are a couple of people in this world. You got the landsharks, the poser asshat assclowns who just sit on the beach and pretend like they surf, and then there's dudes out there shreddin' the guff out those waves like there's NO TOMORROW!! And when I joined LVW, I thought maybe there'd be some more like-minded totally socially responsible while at the same time epically chillaxable people in this place. But what did I find? More landsharks dude. BUMMER!

My next and last tussle in the LVW before I retire to my humble abode indefinitely...will be against the Captain. AWESOME NAME dude. Captains are A-OK with me. Unfortunately brah? I can't make you the same peace offering I made to all the others, cause the fans expect their champion, the champ who represents THEM, to go out with his head held high and the tide in low. If we smoke, it's gotta be afterwards. Either way I just gotta warn you dude...you've seen how I can be when other people get me angry and deny my Gandhi-like outlook on life. And just ask 'em, it's not pretty.

I like you brah, but let's please have a respectable match...or the crazy side of J1D might come out. No, actually dude? He will come out if you act too much like a poag, and I'll TOTALLY be forced to defend myself. Seriously though, let's not think about that kinda thing right now.

Cause all I'm thinkin about is shining this cool looking belt in front of the fans who cheered me on to win! This is your belt, dudes, and let's just say that it will be restored to it's rightful owner when the night of the show comes. Finally pro wrestling has a champion who understands the notion of SHARING IS CARING. I share, you care...it works both ways and feeds us both in the most awesome of spiritual ways. This is the type of bond that only you and I, J1D and the fans, could share. It's a family thing. Captain, brah, you just wouldn't understand. It's one thing to call yourself the Captain, but it's another to live amongst the sea dwellers when you're floating on that backwash from a wave that just won't stop carrying you to inter-dudeular destiny, or in lay man's terms, THE ULTIMATE CONNECTION WITH MOTHER NATURE BRAH!

And by the way everybody...happy 420!!!!!

Peace and love always, brah. Except if you bum me out, then I'd hafta get angry and beat on you like I did to everyone at the battle royal. But peace anyway brah. Because I may be champ but I'm not a total d*ckwad.

I'm just ONE DUDE...looking for adventure...yet totally with no strings attached willing to party it up at the same time brah!


04-21-09, 08:16 PM
(B/W Camera opens up to a very dark living room apartment of one Seven Ten Hudgins. Camera pans around once again revealing bowling items tacked to the wall. Close up shots of game printouts from his youth days are tacked to the wall collecting dust. The room is full of cigarette smoke as the camera pulls from the wall to the couch of Seven Ten as he is sitting there wearing nothing but high colored tube socks, white tighty-whitie underwear. He has two cigarettes going, one in his mouth and one on the ashtray)

SEVEN-TEN HUDGINS: You know when I was about eight years old my dad would always take me every Saturday to the lanes so I could bowl on the youth group. We would ride in the 'OL Ford van, and he'd always listen to the AM station. Old Ron Matts would talk about todays topics, give the weather, blurt out a joke here and there, even mention himself in commercials so they could convince you.
My dad would puff on that cigarette left and right with the windows up listening to Ron Matts on the AM station. My dad would always chew on his tongue as well which was annoying because it sounded like he was chewing like a cow and licking himself at the same time. But as I got older it got worse and worse.

While I inhaled the smoke from my dad for years, he continued to drive me from the youth league to the PBA. Ron Matts was still on and would do sports as well. 1990 the day after the PBA K-MART Tournament Of Champions Ron Matts made the biggest mistake of his life.

(FLASHBACK V/O with a still picture of Seven Ten sitting there)

RON MATTS: Yankees over Oakland 4-3, and Boston shuts out Baltimore 3-0. (Laughs) In cased you missed it yesterday afternoon. Walter Ray Williams defeated Jack Hudgins in somewhat of a disaster championship final. Walter Ray finished the game with 255 leaving Jack with the tenth frame to finish. Simple two pins? No, he went double gutter. Rookie of the year choked big time. Bowling is a sport that should be right down your alley kid. (Laughs) Up next, your traffic report.....

(Camera opens again with Seven Ten still sitting)

SEVEN-TEN HUDGINS: I hate Ron Matts. I hate my father. I hate him chewing on his tongue every single Saturday morning. The sound creeps me out thinking he is licking himself. Walter Ray Williams is no legend. I HATE AM RADIO! I HATE FORD, ESPECIALLY VANS!! I HATE SMOKING!!!

(Seven-Ten leans back and takes a big drag. He then leans over and grabs his old rubber ball out of his bag and places it in his lap and starts petting it taking a deep breath)

SEVEN-TEN HUDGINS: Mandalay Bay, will be a roll off involving North Dakota, Cowboys and indians, and of course The Super Spare. I swear to god this time I will not bring my father and I will not listen to that bastard Ron Matts! I refuse to be eliminated and if I have to defeat these so called bowlers to get to Walter Ray......I will..........

Ron Matts, your a dead man.

(CAMERA fades out to Seven-Ten talking to his ball)

The Great Eye
04-23-09, 03:02 AM
(FADEIN: MISS ANN dressed in her normal slutwear, a tight short black mini skirt, a low cut black top, and Lady Gaga styled giant sunglasses on, behind her is the monster known as HANS NOWAK currently working on the Atlas Stones challenge normally seen on World's Strongest Man Challenges.)

ANN: Oh Olvir, you silly brute...My giant Hans has spent all this time away from LVW training, preparing himself for his return and his destroying of all that America stands for

And truly what's more America then some cartoon moron who gains fame in something as unseemly as the pornography industry

(Miss Ann shakes her head dismissively as Hans powers through the fourth stone and makes his way to the 5th)

ANN: Oh I'm sure you'll have some truly darling Viking themed porn to make the sheep of LVW cheer for you...But sadly for you and them, all this cheers will turns to screams of horror as Hans rips you limb from limb.

(Hans finally gets the 5th stone placed and then power walks towards the camera.)


(Hans does "The Crab" flex at the camera.)


04-24-09, 04:13 PM
(Fade in from black, and we're back on the set of the infamous Studio 69 at Valhalla Studios. The first thing we see is a stretcher carrying a scantily clad young lady, now known as Pixie, or perhaps Trixie, who bears an expression of both pleasure and pain. She lies face down, moaning softly, and a sheet covers her lower portion. She's led away by a couple of paramedics as a doctor and Tommy Salami step into the frame, shaking their heads.)

Tommy Salami
Thank you for coming on such short notice, doctor. I didn't know what else to do.

I'm glad you called me, Mr. Salami. This is by far the WORST salad tossing incident I've ever seen.



Tommy Salami
Will she ever be able to perform again?

Oh, I think she'll be fine. Nothing a few weeks of sphincter reconstruction can't solve. Still, I think you need to say something to that crazy Viking. Seems like every week, a new girl turns up in my E.R. with something wrong with her ass.

Tommy Salami
Dunno if anything can be said to him, Doc. He's been... pretty upset since he lost his last match.

(They both peer over to the stage, now decorated in a way to look like a Viking warlord's mead hall. Upon the throne sits the notorious BUTT-DOMINATOR named OLVIR ARSVINNAR, brow furrowed and bearded jaw supported by a clenched fist.)



(The two conversing men turn their attention back to each other.)

Tommy Salami
Anyway, doctor... thanks again for your help. I'll see what I can do over here.

Thank you, Mr. Salami. A woman's ass is a delicate thing. You have a good day.

(The doctor exits, following the footsteps of his paramedics, leaving Salami wiping the sweat off his balding head as he approaches the stern-faced Olvir upon the throne.)

Tommy Salami
Hey, big guy! Looks like you gave Trixie a bit more than she could handle. You want me to call in her sister so we can get the rest of the scene?

(For a moment, Olvir says nothing... then silently rises to his feet, standing like a statuesque god amid this Norse-themed scene.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
That will not be necessary, Salami Man! The infathomable RAGE flowing through me at this moment is almost too much to bear!

Even moments ago, as my powerful TONGUE fornicated the supple ARSE of that splendid maiden... all that I could think of was that face...

The face of HANS NOWAK!!


(Salami shakes his head.)

Tommy Salami
Oh boy... I haven't forgotten the last time you got into it with that guy. You know, that girl you had dress up as "Miss Warsaw" still has problems eating Polish sausage after what you did to her.

Olvir Arsvinnar
Then now you UNDERSTAND why I cannot WORK under such conditions!

(Unexpectedly, Iggy Dorkjanker steps into the scene.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
"Hans Nowak?" Sorry, I must have been living under a rock. Who is that?

(Olvir suddenly spins around and BARKS his answer in the LVW talent representative's face with enough force to knock him over.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Iggy lies stunned upon the ground. Olvir reaches down and takes a handful of his Iron Maiden t-shirt, yanking back to his feet.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
You must understand, Yanker of Dorks... in the Elder Age of Las Vegas, Nowak and I were the two MIGHTIEST GLADIATORS to ever step into the arena! It had long been my intent to PROVE MYSELF as the STRONGEST in the federation... but alas, our rivalry never came to a fitting conclusion!

And now he's BACK... and after having COST ME the chance to proclaim myself as CHAMPION OF THE WORLD in the battle royale, I have every intent to SMOTE HIM for once and for all, and to take his precious MISS ANN back to my longboat, where I will DOMINATE HER SORRY ARSE without restraint!

(Iggy mulls over this information, and realizes something is amiss.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Wait a second... how exactly did Hans Nowak cost you the LVW World Title? If I recall correctly, as soon as he hit the ring and made a couple of eliminations, you and a few others ganged up on him and eliminated him without delay. He didn't even lay a HAND on you.

(Tommy Salami briskly steps out of the frame, trying to get as far away from the Viking as possible. He's smart to do so, as the Norseman's fierce blue eyes are now raging balls of fire, and his face is a brewing volcano of crimson rage.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
...uh... did I say something you didn't like?


(That was the sound of Olvir's fist, travelling at two hundred miles per hour, lashing out like lightning and burying itself into the meager talent rep's face. The unlucky Iggy is thrown some thirty feet through the air, crashing through a flimsy fake wall and landing in a heap.)

(Blinking through a growing black and blue welt on his face, Iggy flounders on the ground for a moment until a horned shadow falls upon him again. The Great Olvir lifts him to his feet and promptly dusts him off. Iggy staggers, showing some trouble staying balanced, and looks around with great confusion.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
...uh... what just happened?

Olvir Arsvinnar
You TRIPPED, puny Dork-Yanker!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, man... really? My head... is killing me.

I remember... something about Hans Nowak.

Olvir Arsvinnar
GOOD MEMORY, feeble Ignatius! SOON, Hans Nowak will be DECAPITATED in the name of FATHER ODIN!! It will be JUST revenge for the INSULT he dealt me in the battle royale!

Iggy Dorkjanker
...battle royale? Man, my memory's really foggy all of a sudden.

(He pulls Iggy within a few inches of his snarling face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
You remember... DON'T YOU??

Iggy Dorkjanker
...oh... yeah, right. THAT insult.

(The rage in Olvir's face disappears into his regular inane smile. He SLAPS Iggy hard on the back.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Iggy grins. As he does, we can see one of his teeth fall out and hit the floor.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
In all seriousness, Iggy the Dork-Yanker... you could benefit MUCH from my tutelage!

Iggy Dorkjanker

Olvir Arsvinnar
INDEED!! You don't HONESTLY want to continue the rest of your meager life as the PUNY, WEAK, and BEARDLESS FOOL you are now! What would the Gods way when you enter Valhalla, only to show them you are UNWORTHY to wield the blade in the battle of Ragnarok?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh... I dunno...

Olvir Arsvinnar
Watch closely as I step into the noble arena this week, feeble Ignatius, and DOMINATE the thick-skulled FOOL Hans Nowak! You will understand what a TRUE warrior is when you watch me CONQUER his touted strength and prove myself as the MIGHTIEST in all of LAS VEGAS... as well as the WORLD!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Sounds good...

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA!! Clean yourself up, man! My PATH OF DESTINY awaits!

(Olvir gives him another hard slap on the back and steps through the doors leading to his trailer. Iggy linger in place, tries blinking, but only one eye is closing.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
...crap, why can't I see out of my other eye?

(Because it's swollen shut. Fade to black.)

04-24-09, 09:49 PM
::”The Captain” David Richter is at the hospital, visiting old people suffering from emphysema and lung cancer. Richter is sitting at the edge of the bed watching over a sleeping patient and begins to speak::

“THE CAPTAIN” DAVID RICHTER: Mister Dude, first off, I'd like to tip my cap to you for winning the LVW World Heavyweight Title. You fought a lot of tough competition and when it mattered, you came through in the clutch. You seem like a genially good person, but there is a lot of kids watching the LVW and they, right or wrong look to us as role models. I understand with the economy being poor and people being afraid of losing their jobs, the pressure to do well in school in order to get scholarships, and older people worrying about their stock portfolios that there is a lot of anxiety right now that people are struggling to deal with. But I have to take a stand...

::Richter gets off the bed in his suit and stands up::

Just say no to illegal drugs. Pot is not the answer. Prolonged pot use can cause or inflame conditions like chest colds, bronchitis, emphysema, and bronchial asthma where every breath you breathe is a struggle on your body to stay alive. When you are a wrestler and athlete like we are and conditioning plays a major factor, you have to stay at the top of your game because you never know when you'll be taken to the limit. It also can cause diminished short term memory and loss of concentration and coordination and in a sport where one mistake or one second can cost you a match, it hurts your chance of winning and more importantly, it puts you at greater risk for injury and nobody at home want to see their heroes getting hurt.

It is tough being the champion. I can understand that from my success as a multiple LVW World Tag Team champ. You have to be in the gym early to make sure you are in peak condition, but how are you going to do that Dude when the weed is eating away your motivation? Kids, even if you have god given natural talent, if you want to grow up and live your dream at whatever you do, you just can't go through the motions. You have to put all your heart into what you are doing and go out there and give the best you have on that day especially here in LVW.

I don't want it come off like I'm demonizing pot users or The World Champion Mister Dude. There are organizations like TheTruth who take their messages too far and so overboard, they make you want to light up just to spite them. That is the wrong way to go about things. It is a tough world and people are looking for something to take the edge off the pressure of every day life while everyone and their mother makes cracks about psychiatrists as quacks. That environment has unfortunately led us to where we are today.

Kids, If you are having trouble, talk to a friend or parent. Go to a psychiatrist and talk about what is going on and let him prescribe you legal drugs approved by the FDA that you can pick up at a drug store instead of possibly getting some bad pot which is laced by a much stronger drug that could cause seizures. It doesn't make you weak to need some help, it makes you human.

Mister Dude, by beating you, I'm going to send a message to you, all the wrestlers in the back, and all the kids at home that drugs are not the answer and hopefully, we can save a couple of lives.


04-24-09, 10:18 PM
(FADEIN: J1D's sitting on his couch smoking the BIGGEST BOWL you've ever seen in your life! He's inhaling deep, and exhaling that smoke into the air all around him)

J1D: Duuuuude I was totally with you when you were congratulating me on being the maharashi of LVW! But then you go and blow it by totally coming down on me in an uncool way brah!!!!

Just to set the record straight, I want all the kids at home to watch me right now. (Picks up the red and platinum LVW Championship Title laying on the ground next to him, holds it up to the camera) You see this belt, kids? It was TOTALLY won with the use of marijuana. But no, it's all good bros! I'm not like trying to convert you to my way of life or anything, but I'm just saying, marijuana has only helped me doing the most awesome of things in my life. I was feeling niiiiiiice too when I won the belt at the battle royal too brah!

Plus I'm almost never angry when I'm tokin' and a-smokin'! Shyyyaaahhh bro, except for when assheads like Captain douchebag tell me NOT TO SMOKE IT! You're just like my father dude, always telling me what to do with my life. When you're smokin' up though brah, you live under no one's rules but nature. And I loooove nature brah.

You might be a nice guy, Captain, but I'm the people's champ for GOOD REASON DUDE! It's cause I know their daily frustrations of waking up late for work only to deal with a butthole of a boss who thinks you have to be there at EXACTLY nine o'clock! I've had those jobs before, dude, they blow, and I got fired from them all. Being in LVW is awesome though cause I don't have to be at work until like eight pm. Plus theres' free gnarley grindage in the concession room! And that to me is most excellent.

People don't want a bunch of asshats tellin' them what to think, how to dress, what NOT to smoke, what religion to believe in. I love Gandhi and Buddah, but you don't hear me tellin' dudes to worship them, do you? Although I highly recommend it. And if anything brah, I'm gonna give advice to people on what the best weed is, 'cause it's SO HARD to find that gnarley sativa grass!

If LVW was a democracy, then the voter turnout would be EXCELLENT, and the people would give me TWO THUMBS UP! Too bad it's not a democracy, and I gotta fight people instead. No worries brosef, cause once I've demonstrated my awesome offensive skills against you in the ring, we can both chill and I can give you your first joint.

Just remember tho bro...you gotta INHALE!



04-26-09, 02:19 PM
(Fade into: Born Again, sitting, in a full tilt suit, on a rock in the blistering heat of Las Vegas.)

Born Again: Diamonte. I was always taught that to be able to spread the word of the Lord, I needed to learn the language of the heathen nations. And so, I looked it up. "Rock" is apparently "diamonte". Now that I've related to you on a personal level, maybe it will be easier for you to listen to what I have to tell you. The strength of the Lord is powerful indeed. The church draws strength from the Lord but the Lord also draws strength from his church. Do you know how the church started? It started when the Lord turned to Peter and told him "You are the 'diamonte' on which I will build my church." One man, Spaniard. One good wholesome God-fearing man started everything.

(Born Again pauses to wipe the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief.)

Born Again: But Simon Peter has passed on. And in his wake, each level of the church has become softer and softer until we have the current, watered down, laissez-faire church you see nowadays. That is why attendance is down, sinning is up, and places like Las Vegas haven't returned to the rubble from whence they came. So the Lord needs a new "diamonte". He needs me, the new Simon Peter, Born Again, the rock on which the entire faith and trust of the Lord can reside.

(Born Again takes out a paper fan to cool himself.)

Born Again: I have no interest in going to places like Spain to recruit more acolytes of the Lord. The last thing the church needs for it's image is a bunch of unwashed, disgusting, gibberish speaking heathens in it's ranks. The church needs an image overhaul, a reconnection with what made it really great: white Anglo-Saxon males who understand that the Scripture is a warning of the impending hellfires. But, since you have decided to leave Spain and join the LVW, I feel inclined to at least help you. Even though you probably aren't good enough for God, you can at least get out of Las Vegas.

(Born Again leans forward and reaches into his pocket. He takes out a medical pamphlet of some type.)

Born Again: Now I know the Spanish speaking world is rife with the swine flu, assumedly a way of the Lord punishes you heathens for your terrible way of life, so it can also be assumed that you are infected with it. I am currently going through an intense inoculation process so when you inevitably spread your diseases to the masses of Las Vegas, I can stay around to tell everyone "I told you so". Because I did tell you so.

(Born Again reaches behind the rock and takes out a book which was wrapped in cloth. It is, of course, the Bible.)

Born Again: Do you know why this match is being contested under "The Lord's Rules"? It's because the will of God is to end all the sinning that is currently going on in Las Vegas. And to tame the sinning, I must make sure that matches are sin-free. That is, the ultimate rule is not the rules of man but the rules of our Lord. The Bible is the only rulebook I have ever or will ever be bound by. I don't know if there are any Spanish language versions of the Bible, but I would suggest you stick to the correct English language version to make sure there isn't any confusion. Because the American Midwest is the new Jerusalem and Las Vegas is the new Orient, home of sinning and corruption. And just like the people of Simon Peter's time correctly determined that the Orient is the home of the Antichrist, I have determined that Las Vegas is going to be the site of the next Noah's ark. But when you, Spaniard, as an agent of the Lord, bringing the cleansing plague of swine flu to the city, Born Again will lead no one to his ark. Because no one here is worthy of saving yet. Repent and I might, possibly reconsider.

(Fade to black.)

04-26-09, 05:35 PM
::”The Captain” David Richter is sitting on the edge of the ring, with a towel around his neck after a workout, face palming his face. Richter looks up and begins to speak...::

“The Captain” David Richter: I won't lie, your last response and your lack of caring for the health of the kids watching LVW has left me slightly perturbed. Kids while they are not as naive as the media portrays are still impressionable and trying to figure out what is happening in this crazy world we live in. But if you don't care enough about the kids to change your lifestyle Mister Dude, there is something else to think about, as champion of LVW with our television being sold and bittorrented all over the world, as our champion and our most prominent figure, do you want to associate drug use with professional wrestlers and the good people of the city of Las Vegas?

The are people all across the country associating us now with mindless, self indulgence. People are thinking of us as the Dallas Cowboys of professional wrestling letting any hooligan compete in our league and worse, for our world heavyweight title belt. Just look at what drug use did to WFW, one of the most successful leagues of all-time, you couldn't even walk into the backstage area without getting high because Felix Red, Jared Wells, Anarky, and Manson were always smoking a bowl and where is that league now, on a very long hiatus while wrestlers are trying to be released from rehab! There are shoot interviews which even say Manson was openly doing crack off the rears of midgets.

The city of Las Vegas is the 28th most populated city in the United States of America. Unfortunately though for the citizens of Las Vegas, whenever someone brings up the name of the city, it is associated with 3.8 mile strip of land in a city 131 square miles big. No major sports league will even allow the city to have a sports team despite the success sports such as boxing, mixed martial arts, and wrestling has had in the city and you certainly aren't helping things by taking pride in smoking a bowl on television.

I hate to come off like I'm some dad giving a lecture, but I work hard to be the very best that I can be. I try to lead a life where the people who look up to me, since I'm a public figure, can be proud to say that are a fan of mine. You seem like a good man and you definitely have the talent or you wouldn't be holding the LVW World Heavyweight. I'm not telling you what religion to follow or how to run your private life, I'm saying to you to be conscious of your public image and its impact not just on you, but on everyone around you.

It is looks like I'm going to have to be the one to step up and teach you a lesson by beating you at The Battle Continues to earn a title shot. I'm going to show that you don't need to use drugs to be the best in the world. You better fight for your life because as a multiple LVW World Tag Champion, I have shown that I can get the job done, time in and time out, in the clutch and bring home the gold for my team. While in this match I don't have a partner, I consider all of LVW to be my team and I'm going to go out there and do my best to make this league, this city, and all the people proud.

Mister Dude, be ready, Captain Clutch is coming for you.


04-26-09, 08:36 PM
(FADEIN: J1D standing in front of an LVW banner with the red and platinum championship belt draped over his shoulder, pacing back and forth. This man has something on his mind!)

J1D: (putting hand over forehead) I can't BELIEVE YOU, MAHARASHI! Naw brah, this just ain't right! Trying to taint the image of a friendly neighborhood surfer such as myself, the man who is out there representing the people in a most awesome way...

Get one thing totally straight brosef, I DO NOT SMOKE CRACK! Marijuana and shrooms are all-nachu-RAL! (hands over mouth, shouting) KIDS, IF YOU'RE OUT THERE WATCHING YOUR MAIN MAN J1D RIGHT NOW, DON'T LISTEN TO THE CAPTAIN!

I mean seriously dude, why try and spoil a good thing? I didn't bring drugs to LVW, they were there when I arrived! Me and some of the fans were even smoking together before the last event. It was a most awesome feeling of bonding and brotherly love, and THAT'S what marijuana and shrooms and the marijuana gum that I get with my green card when I'm in Cali...has done for me! I'm not saying little kids should be doing it, but I would definitely suggest they try it when they're older! Like maybe 13 or something.

J1D isn't about me, J1D isn't about you; it's not even about Las Vegas or Pro Wrestling. J1D is a way of life that's gonna change the PLANET, BRAH! One city at a time. I've been scopin' out this wave for mad long, and the rip tide's about right to let me in and shred to the promised land. A-K-A, brah, J1D making society a more tolerant and peaceful place by bringing people together and opening their third eyes. Honestly man, why would you wanna stand in the way of that?

You can say what you want, judge me how you want, and totally throw sand in my face, but the fact is this belt is proof positive that the gnarliest of lifestyles is the one that I'm living right now. And if you don't think marijuana help me along the way, then you just need to go back to your Reefer Madness Director's Cut DVD and watch the damn special features brah!

(takes the title off his shoulders and shakes it at the camera) Where I go, this belt follows. Where I go, my fans are there and they've got my back. We're all smokin' the same doob, walking the same path, hangin' ten on the same breakline. J1D is TOTALLY haggard brah, and everybody knows it! You're just the underwater Jack Magnet trying to prevent me from passage, and I won't have any of it. You are definitely NOT bummin' this party out!

After I pin you, I'm peacin', ridin' out into the sunset, surfing the oceanic perimeter, and I'm taking my people with me! Once that happens, you and some other buttmunches can fight over the belt. But not this time brah, not THIS party. The belt may not be on the line, but my vibe with these most awesome Las Vegans sure is.

And J1D brah, like always, SHALL NOT DISAPPOINT!


04-28-09, 02:24 AM
::Richter is sitting in a suit with his feet up on the table, on the table is a case with a million dollars inside.::

“THE CAPTAIN” DAVID RICHTER: Mister Dude, you've forced my hand, I hate to grandstand, but a message has to be sent. I'm asking all fans of your fans to bring their stash to The Battle Continues and in exchange for crisp one hundred dollar bills, we will destroy all the pot in huge bonfire outside before the show. We are going to send a message to people all over the world that we, the fans of LVW, do not condone the lifestyle of Mister Dude to a television audience worldwide.

And, I am asking all of my fans, young and old alike to come and show their support. There will be several bands and refreshments will be served and we will show the whole world that you don't need drugs to get high to be high on life.

Mister Dude, if you can behave yourself and promise not to cause a physical altercation until our match later that night, you are invited to attend and maybe you'll see first hand the error of your ways.


04-28-09, 09:23 PM
The scene is a street corner on the Strip. Cowboy Jimmy Donovan is standing by wearing a button-down shirt, cowboy hat, cowboy boots... and an athletic supporter.

JD: Well, I'll be. At the big battle royale, I didn't done do what I said I was gonna do. Since I didn't win the LVW World Championship, well, things a' been goin' a little south fer me, an' not the good kinda south either. Turns out Mandalay Bay was only sponsorin' me because they thought it was a lock that I was gonna be Champion again. So when I didn't win, well, they stripped me of mah sponsorship.

Of course, that wouldn'ta been a problem if I didn't sell all mah pants cuz them tights was the only things I was allowed to wear. So that's why I'm out here on the Las Vegas streets in nothin' but an athletic supporter. I ain't allowed in no casinos with no pants. None of the classy brothels will let me in without pants, and the skeezy ones... well, I already got gonherrea once this month. I ain't fixin' on gettin' it again.

So, now, I gotsta start from scratch and take on a few tough hombres in this here Eeeelimination Series to get mah title back. And when I win this match and get the winner's purse, I'll be able to buy me some more pants. YEE-HAW!

So Seven-Ten Hudgins, Nate Dakota, Super Spade, hear this before the LVPD comes around and busts me for indecent exposure. You guys may be 'rasslin' fer yer names, but y'all ain't as desperate as I am. I'm hungry... no, literally, I ain't eaten since the buffet before the last event. So while y'all are lookin' t'build yer reputations, I'm lookin' to get back on may feet, both in the ring an' in life.

So y'all better watch yer behinds, because I'm goin' all in for this one. I...

Red and blue lights flash and a siren blares.

JD: Well, y'all get it. Well, it's been good talkin' to y'all. See ya if I can get anyone t'post mah bail!

The cops get out and put Jimmy in cuffs as the scene goes to the LVW logo.

05-03-09, 04:53 PM
(SPANIARD sighs aloud as we fade in. His mask is in that a creased way that shows us he is sad and sorry.)

SPANIARD: I apologize for not giving you all I have dis week. It was... wrestling school exam week for de SPANIARD... and much to your surprise, he needed to pass dis class to make sure he can move on and teach other Spaniards the craft of... awrestling. Please... accept my deepest apologies.

(SPANIARD bows out gracefully.)


The Great Eye
05-06-09, 05:41 PM
RP for this match here.

The Great Eye
05-06-09, 05:42 PM
Rp for this match here.

The Great Eye
05-06-09, 05:42 PM
Rp for this match here.

The Great Eye
05-06-09, 05:43 PM
Rp for this match here.

05-07-09, 10:09 PM
"For The Little Ones We Have Bumper Lanes And Ball Ramps To Help The Young Bowlers Build Confidence And Have An Enjoyable Experience"

Bumper Bowling: is available for beginners. This is ideal if you have younger bowlers, bumpers prevent gutter-balls that can often discourage young bowlers.
Pricing for bumper bowling:

*Shoe Rental $2.00 Per Pair At All Times
*$3.50 Per Game Per Person
*Every Tuesday Bumper Bowling
*Shoes $1.00 -*$2.00 Per Game Per Person!
*9am - 10pm!

(Camera pans around slowly in the packed bowling alley)

LANE 28: Party of six children, mostly eight year olds. Parents stand back clapping the the children on, waiting on cake for the birthday boy Ryan.

LANE 29: Vacant.

LANE 30: Teenagers around the age of fourteen, trying to bowl but at the same time do their best to be boyfriend/girlfriend. Three guys, three girls.

(CUEUP: Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix)

(FADEIN: To Seven-Ten Hudgins walking into the bowling alley rolling his bags in. He is wearing black dress pants, and an official LVW polo shirt with the writing Seven-Ten on the back. Stopping in the middle of the entrance, camera zooms in as he takes the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and places it behind his ear. Then puts his cop glasses over his head and looks around)

SEVEN TEN: Mother of god.

(Seven Ten places his hands around his waist looking around slowly as he begins to fall in a flash back. Camera is fading between his face and watching little kids bowl)

CHRIS SCHENKEL: Who in the world is going to stop Walter Ray Williams Jr? By far, the greatest shooter in the world where ever you go..........

(Seven Ten daydreaming gets interrupted by the old lady running the counter)


(Stunned Seven Ten walks up to the counter)

SEVEN TEN: Ah, yes. I would love a lane. And please give me a lane with a mild oil pattern.

COUNTER LADY: Lane six. Excuse me for a minute.

(Counter Lady grabs the microphone and announces a Happy Birthday)

COUNTER LADY: On lane twenty eight we would like to wish a very happy eighth birthday to RRRYYYAAANNN!!!

(A disgruntled Seven Ten starring at the counter lady is startled by the reaction of birthday boy Ryan as he turns around to see a bunch of adults jumping for joy and prancing around for the kids. He looks over at the teenager couples on lane thirty not caring at all about bowling but rather caring about kissing and getting to second base. His eyes get distance and big, then turns back around to the counter)

SEVEN TEN: Forget lane six my dear. I'll go ahead and take lane twenty nine.

COUNTER LADY: Twenty nine it is. Need shoes?

SEVEN TEN: Oh no. I bring my own weapons.

(Camera follows behind Seven Ten to lane twenty nine. He approaches his lane as both lanes left and right watch him make his entrance)

(CUEUP: Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth)

(Quick video shots of Seven Ten bowling strikes)

BIRTHDAY BOY RYAN: WOW, he is awesome!

(Quick video shot of Seven Ten ordering a pitcher of beer for himself then a shot of him bowling a strike)

PARENT ON LANE 28: Who does this guy think he is?

(Quick video shot of Seven Ten drinking beer, bowling a strike, then walking over to birthday boy Ryan stealing his birthday crown and placing it over his own head)


(Quick video shot Seven Ten drinking out of the pitcher, then another rolled strike. Teenagers on lane thirty could careless about the sport of bowling. Seven Ten begins to dance over to their lane, two stepping and snapping his fingers. Getting their attention he places one leg up on the ball return and begins starring at the teenagers with a thrust in and out with his waist)

MALE TEENAGER: This dude is crazy.

(Camera pans over to a parent on lane twenty eight)

MALE PARENT: I have to stop this right away.

(Another video shot of Seven Ten bowling another strike, another game. Parent approaches him finally)

MALE PARENT: Who do you think you are? This is a family establishment and what your doing is not allowed here. Especially in front of my son.

(Seven Ten then places the unlit cigarette from behind his head in his mouth. He slowly sits down and speaks with the parent)

SEVEN TEN: Do you know that Walter Ray holds forty five career titles in the PBA? Do you know I like to throw a straight shot at the pocket on and over the second arrow? No you don't. You know what else sir? Something that really really irritates the most besides Walter Ray. The LVW title is not in my trophy case.

(Seven Ten then sits forward in the seat and places both hands over his head looking down)

SEVEN TEN: Cowboys are considered the ideal american figure to the public but not in my world of bowling. You can't show up packing a colt forty five revolver or a double barrel shotgun. Bill Bellmoth, just a mere two fingered bowler which doesn't count in my world. It doesn't. Now, dad if you excuse me, I must rest my arm after putting on a bowling display in front of your family. Was there something you wanted to tell me?

MALE PARENT: Uhhhhhhmmmm, no. Just wanted to say great bowling!!

(Male parent reunites quickly with the rest of the parents as Seven Ten packs his balls up. As he is walking out he looks over to all the parents of the kids on lane twenty eight and looks over to the teenagers on lane thirty)

SEVEN TEN: I hated my father.......and I hate Walter Ray.

(Seven Ten fades off as the parents look confused and disgusted. But one of the teenagers on lane thirty dig with what he says)



05-14-09, 03:36 AM
::Aaron Roddick is in the living room, intensely watching Viking porn featuring Olvir Arsvinnar when “The Captain” David Richter enters the room::

RICHTER: Whoa. Studying footage of Olvir for me for my match?

RODDICK: ::startled, jumps up:: Jesus Christ, let me know when you enter the room for pete sake.

RICHTER: I still don't understand how studying his porn will help me find his weaknesses for our match at Snake Eyes.

RODDICK: Being a great porn incorporates a lot of what makes up a great wrestler, endurance, strength, working on your look, and shaping yourself into the overall total package.

RICHTER: The man has been successful, I'll give him that. He has been a star in two professions. Although I don't know how he can be such a star with such a small member between his legs, he isn't even normal size.

RODDICK: It is all about knowing... wait, what the hell do you mean he is small?

RICHTER: Bro, he is only like a foot long. That is freaking embarrassing. I was bigger than that before I was thirteen.

RODDICK: I don't know if you've noticed in all the locker rooms we've been in but that isn't below normal.

RICHTER: Really? Well, I've always been kind of shy. Okay, fine, he is normal length.

RODDICK: …. no...

RICHTER: Lets forget that for a second. How can Olvir be serious about wrestling if spends half his time doing porn and the other half doing wrestling? When you are splitting your time, you aren't giving 100% to either.

RODDICK: He wants to be a man of the world.

RICHTER: Let him be a man of the world, I want to be LVW World Heavyweight Champion so I have to win the Strip Championship and defend it three times to get my shot at J1D. Where in the blue blazes is that Olvir's dedication? Who busts their behind more than I do week in and week out?

RODDICK: Nobody is ever going to argue that you don't work hard. Hell, sometimes you even come in overtrained to the point where you start to burn yourself out.

RICHTER: I'm going to teach short dick a lesson, I'm going to win that damn bracelet and then I'm going to reach in and to pull Olvir's head out of his behind and next time he is going to take out match up more serious.

::Richter lifts up his fist and Roddick fist bumps him::


05-15-09, 09:10 PM
(We open up with a long, glamorous shot of the Las Vegas strip in all of its bright, multi-colored glory. The camera tracks in as it catches a cab pulling up to the curb. Stepping out is LVW employee IGGY DORKJANKER, who awkwardly hands the driver a twenty dollar bill.)

Cab Driver
The fare's twenty-two bucks.

Iggy Dorkjanker
Thanks, man. Keep the change.

Cab Driver

(The cab speeds off before Dorkjanker can get both feet set on the pavement, sending the light-weight talent representative tumbling to the asphalt. He's left groaning in pain while lying on his back on the unforgiving sidewalk, where various strip visitors walk over him as if he were just part of the scenery.)



(Boisterous tell-tale laughter brings Iggy to, and he comes to his feet, dusting himself off as his eyes find the massive DRAGON SHIP parked just up the road.)

Iggy Dorkjanker

(The talent rep jogs up to the plank lowered down to the sidewalk just as a massive, axe-toting VIKING comes bounding down to his level, booming with thunderous laughter. His wild eyes find the smaller Dorkjanker and the smile on his face nearly widens ear to ear.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
IGNATIUS THE SCRAWNY!! A most NOBLE sight to see your meager hide on this DEBAUCHEROUS mission!



Iggy Dorkjanker
Dang, Olvir, you don't know how hard it was to track you down. The guys at Valhalla said you were taking the day off for some sort of special training. So what's up? Where are we, anyway?

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! See for YOURSELF, puny Yanker of Dorks!

(For the first time, Iggy takes a look at the large marquee hanging over the building that the crazed Viking has landed his ship. It reads, "THE HONEYPOT: Live Nude Girls Inside!" The color in the LVW talent rep's face leaves for a moment then comes back all at once in a full-out blush.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Wha... HUH?!


Iggy Dorkjanker
You came to a STRIP CLUB?! I mean... I guess that's not surprising that you'd come here, but I don't see in any way how a visit here could prepare you for the challenge that awaits you at LVW's upcoming Snake Eyes event.

Olvir Arsvinnar
OF COURSE you cannot see, puny Dork-Yanker! You do not share the INFINITE and ALL-SEEING VISION of the Great Olvir!

Obviously, you know well of the VICTORY that awaits me at the glorious gladitorial event, named for the RED GLOWING EYES of the WORLD SERPENT, JORMUNGANDR!! When that night comes, the GREAT OLVIR shall CONQUER the foe that stands in his way, and proclaim himself the Las Vegas Wrestling Champion of STRIPPING!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
...stripping? Wait, Olvir, I think you're confused...

Olvir Arsvinnar
Nay, YOU are the one who is confused, simple-minded Ignatius! Though I was ENRAGED to have missed my chance to proclaim myself the champion of the ENTIRE KNOWN WORLD, this bountiful opportunity INTRIGUES me in the ways only a fine, scrumptious ARSE on a supple young lass would!

COME, Dork-Yanker! We shall see more inside!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh, I think I left my ID at home, so--ULP~!!

(Iggy's protests are cut short as Olvir's MASSIVE hand takes a handful of his shirt and the Viking drags him into the gentlemen's club.)

(Inside is what you'd imagine your typical strip club looks like: dim lighting and loud techno music. And boobs. Round, large, bouncy, fake boobs everywhere the eye can see. The towering Olvir enters this scene with a proud smirk upon his face as his eyes scan the room and the talent on stage. A red-faced Iggy appears up beside him, also looking at everything around him, but without the Viking's confidence.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Feast your eyes upon this BEAUTIFUL spectacle!

(Iggy stands agape of a stacked blonde doing the splits while dangling upside down on a brass pole. Olvir, evidently bothered by his lack of an answer, grabs his head in his small hands and SQUEEZES until his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets!)

Olvir Arsvinnar

Iggy Dorkjanker

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Arsvinnar releases the smaller man's head, the size of a small melon in his giant hands. The LVW talent rep wavers back and forth on his feet for a moment as he tries to get the blood flowing to his brain again.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Such a NOBLE art these fine maidens have perfected! WATCH how they contort themselves in such ways that they may easily HYPNOTIZE the untrained eye!

To think that I am on the verge of being CHAMPION of all this! PROUDLY, I would bear the title to represent these fine MAIDENS who, without FEAR or REGRET, expose their blessed forms as a sign of their INDEPENDENT WILL!! These proud women SCREAM for the MIGHTY LOINS that await them!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Olvir, thanks for putting the door guy through the wall and getting me in, but I think you've got the wrong idea about the Strip Championship...

Olvir Arsvinnar
Let us savor a CLOSER LOOK, Dork-Yanker! Perhaps it will put FINE HAIRS on your chest! HA HA HA HA!!

(With protest pretty much out of the picture, Iggy is led up to the stage, where the two get a front row seat of the club's main attraction, consisting of a lovely trio of fine proportions. The lecherous Norseman obviously likes what he sees.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
MOST GRACIOUS WENCHES!! Your FLAWLESS FORMS fill the Great Olvir with a sensation of UNYIELDING PLEASURE!! It would be an HONOR to serve under the grace of such BOUNTIFUL SIRENS!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Olvir, you're not listening to me...

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH! What is the USE of listening at a time like this! You should be WATCHING, puny Ignatius!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, believe me, I am watching everything, and I like what I see, but... I don't quite think that this is what LVW had in mind when they formed the Strip Championship. On top of that, I fail to see how this prepares you in your match against "The Captain" David Richter.

Olvir Arsvinnar
HMPH!! Then what DID the Gods of Las Vegas have in mind for such a noble title?!

Iggy Dorkjanker

(A tap on his shoulder catches his attention, and he turns around only to find his nose inches away from a tight set of cleavage. He looks up and into the face of the scantily-clad entertainer that has approached him, and recognizes the face.)

Hey, stud... you interested in a little personal time in the back?

Iggy Dorkjanker
Pixie?! I didn't know you worked here.

Huh? Oh, you mistook me for my sister...

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, sorry Trixie.

No, I'm Dixie.

Iggy Dorkjanker
DIXIE?! How many of you are there??!

(Thoughtfully, the triplet of Olvir's feature porn actresses looks up.)

Dixie the Dancer
You know, I can't really recall correctly. There's a lot, and I do know that. So what do you say, Big Boy? You and me in the back?

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh man... that'd be, uh... that'd be AWESOME. But, well... I kinda forgot my wallet at home, so I'm a tad strapped for cash...

(Getting the picture, Dixie rolls her eyes and is about to leave. Iggy sees his opportunity for a lapdance he'll never forget slipping through his fingers and quickly chases her down.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Whoa whoa, wait a second! Just because I don't have cash on hand doesn't mean I have ways of paying for your, uh... "service."

Dixie the Dancer
Well, buddy, that's too bad, because I'm only interested in cash. But just out of curiosity, what do you have to offer?

(A smile forms on Iggy's face and, in a rare moment, he straightens himself up with an unusual air of confidence.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well... I just happen to be the inside man for a certain VIP citizen of Las Vegas! Perhaps you've heard the name... OLVIR ARSVINNAR?

(Her eyes pop open in immediate recognition.)

Dixie the Dancer
Oh man, you mean THE Olvir?! My sisters talk about him all the time, but I've never actually had the chance to MEET the legendary Butt-Dominator in the flesh! Is it true what they say then? Is he really RIDICULOUSLY hung?

(The talent rep scoffs a bit.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well... some might brag that it isn't anything special, but... you've seen the videos yourself. Olvir's got the package every woman wants.

Dixie the Dancer
Dang... I'd leave this hellhole in an INSTANT to be in one of his films! Pixie and Trixie always told me there was no way to get me in... but you can help me out?

Iggy Dorkjanker
Help you? Baby, I can introduce him to you right now, if you'd like!

Dixie the Dancer
Kid, I promise you... I will f*ck you in the back in ways you never thought imaginable if you me get a job at Valhalla Studios.

(Iggy's smile suddenly disappears when he realizes what's at stake.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
FF... FFF...

Dixie the Dancer
Yeah, you heard me right.

Iggy Dorkjanker
...uh... oh man, this is AWESOME!! One sec, let me get him real quick!

Hey, OLVIR!!

(Iggy turns back to the stage, only to find his host surprisingly missing.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
WHAT? Where did he go now?!

(The talent rep briefly scans the room to fruitless results, until POMPOUS LAUGHTER directs his attention to the stage.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(There amid the finest dancers the Honey Pot has to offer is OLVIR ARSVINNAR, standing in the very middle of the stage as naked women dance seductively around him. Olvir himself breaks down into a groove in ways that make one wonder if he isn't actually internet sensation TechnoViking.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
COME, lusty wenches!! The GREAT OLVIR will give you a REAL POLE to DANCE ON!! HA HA HA HA!!!

(Caught up in the moment, Olvir makes the one deadly error that no man should make in a strip club, and grabs a handful of one woman's ass. She immediately YELPS in surprise and tries to free herself from his grip, but his ironclad fingers CLENCH her supple buttocks without mercy! The bouncer on duty, seeing what's up, steps onto the stage and grabs the towering Viking by the shoulder.)

Hey pal, we got a "no touching" rule here...

Olvir Arsvinnar
As do I! HOO-HAA!!

(Without warning, Olvir SEIZES the bouncer's hand and FLINGS HIM EFFORTLESSLY over his shoulder!! CRASSSH!! He collides with the mirror on the wall behind the DJ booth, breaking it into thousands of glittering pieces! The act sends the girls into a PANIC, and at once they scatter while the patrons clear the building. Seeing trouble brewing, Iggy jumps onto the stage to stop him.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Olvir, have you gone crazy?! You can't--

Olvir Arsvinnar

(WHAM!! Reacting more by instinct than logic, Olvir BURIES HIS FIST into the face of poor Iggy Dorkjanker, who hits the stage like a ton of bricks. From seemingly nowhere, Olvir draws his MIGHTY BATTLE AXE and gets a wild look in his eyes.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! RUN AWAY from you CHAMPION if you must, bountiful maidens! The Great Olvir LOVES a good chase!!


(Olvir LUNGES off the stage and into a pile of heavyset bouncers who have come in to break up the tumult...)

(...we cut outside as the panic suddenly spills out onto the streets. Women clad in only thongs come screaming out the front doors and running further down the Las Vegas strip in random directions, until finally, the doors come bursting off their HINGES as the lifeless bodies of a pair of ill-fated club bouncers come hurtling out onto the sidewalk. Stepping out onto the streets of Las Vegas, axe clenched in one hand and a bouquet of bikini tops in the other, emerges "The Butt-Dominator" Olvir Arsvinnar with a proud grin stretched upon his face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! Odin has blessed me with VICTORY once again! LOOK NOW, people of Las Vegas, upon the CONQUEROR of the STRIP CLUB!!

(With another THUNDEROUS PEAL OF GLORIOUS LAUGHTER, the Great Olvir HOISTS his trophy into the air... to practically no response from the passers by on the strip. Suddenly coming out from the destroyed doors of the strip club is a dazed and bruised-faced Iggy Dorkjanker. Iggy shakes the pain out of his face and comes to the wrathful Viking's side.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Dangit, Olvir... that was my face you hit in there!

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! A TRUE VIKING would LAUGH BOISTEROUSLY to a simple blow to the face! It is time for you to BUCK UP, man!

Iggy Dorkjanker
I told you, Olvir, I'm trying, but you live a vigorous lifestyle, and I can't keep up!

And I keep trying to tell you, you're not fighting to become the champion of the strip club!

(For the first time since his rampage began, Olvir hesitates.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
What is THIS you speak of?! The Great Olvir was informed he would fight for the Las Vegas Wrestling Strip Championship!

Iggy Dorkjanker
That's right, but they weren't talking about strippers. It's a reference to the Las Vegas Strip... I mean, what we're standing on now.

Olvir Arsvinnar
So... I'm not going to be the champion of the strippers?

Iggy Dorkjanker
Not quite.

(A new emotion fills the Great Olvir's mind: rage.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
WHAT INSOLENCE!! The Great Olvir's ASPIRATIONS have just been SHATTERED!! WHAT, I ask, does my GREATNESS need with a measley piece of ROAD!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, think of it this way, Olvir... you're still sort of the champion of the strip clubs in town. Along with that, you're the champion of every hotel, resort, casino, and attraction this road has to offer.

(Put this way, the Great Olvir seems intrigued.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Yes... YES!! You are MOST WISE, if not FEEBLE, meager Ignatius! In conquering the STRIP we stand on, I will take my first step in my ultimate goal of conquering THE ENTIRE WORLD!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
A feat that's not beyond impossible, I might add. Two successful defenses with the Strip Title, and you've got a shot at the LVW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP. Three wins, and you decide the stips.

Olvir Arsvinnar
WELL THEN!! That is comforting to know! All that stands in my way then is a mere MAN... a so-called CAPTAIN of his own vessel!

I suppose I should treat him with RESPECT, since he is a sea-farer, and as such, MUST know of the great accomplishments in nautical travel achieved by the Vikings! Though he stands in my way to RULE this brilliant kingdom of lights, I shall smite him HONORABLY, so that he might retain his PRIDE!!

But out of curiosity, what did he say about my acclaimed GREATNESS!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, long story short, he doesn't think you dedicate yourself enough to kicking ass...

...and that you have a tiny d*ck.



Olvir Arsvinnar

(SSSMMMAASSSSHHH!!! With rage that cannot be described in words, Olvir brings down the mighty battle axe down upon the concrete sidewalk, nearly CLEAVING IT IN TWO and burying the blade of his weapon almost down to the hilt!)

Olvir Arsvinnar

Iggy Dorkjanker
Whoa, buddy... looks like you're amped and ready to go for Snake Eyes after all.

(The talent rep suddenly notices someone else emerging from the cleared out strip club... that being a perplexed Dixie.)

Iggy Dorkjanker

(Iggy takes her by the arm and leads her into the presence of the furious Viking. She's blown away by the very sight of him.)

Dixie the Dancer
Oh man, I'm just blown away right now! You're even bigger than I imagined!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Check this out, Olvir... I found another one of Pixie's sisters! She wants a part in one of her films. Think you can help her out?

(Olvir, for the moment, puts his anger in check as he sees the curvacious woman brought before him.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
A sister of the fine maiden PIXIE, you say?! What LUCK!!

(Without warning, Olvir hoists her onto his shoulder.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Might as well not make it a wasted trip. HA HA HA HA!!!

(With his prize in hand, Olvir bounds up the plank of his dragon ship and takes his claim below deck. Iggy looks lost.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
But... BUT... she said she'd... ff... FF...


(In frustration, Iggy kicks the sidewalk and wanders off as the dragon boat begins to rock back and forther. Cut to black.)

05-18-09, 03:03 PM
(CUTTO: J1D in front of the Palm Resorts and Casino, barefoot and shirtless, wearing his LVW Championship Belt around his board shorts. In his hands, he's holding a huge surf board)

J1D: Alright I totally don't mean to rag on you two dudes, but I rendezvous'd with some gnarley crowdspeople today, and instead of talkin about how wicked sick my spinner belt looks, they just told me how bummed they were that you two lazy sloths didn't even cut any promos or nothing! BRAH- do you think you're too good to let the dudes and dudettes of the Vegas strip know your feelings on the match? I hate to be a total dick about this, but if one of you assclowns doesn't cut a promo soon and give the good people what they crave, I'm gonna chew your air time up like some 7-11 burrito grindage...A-K-A, pass out south Indian sativa bud to the crowd while you bros put on borefest 2009 in the ring J1D built! 'Cause the way this dude sees it, the bro-dacious LV-Dub fans could hallucinate and see a better match than what you two buttwipes are preparing to give them. AND THIS DUDE WILL NOT STAND FOR THE DISRESPECTING OF HIS FANS! The fans made me what I am, and if you just got off your lazy fat tarkasses and did promos for them, they might make you into something too!


05-18-09, 08:31 PM
(Camera opens up to a Walter Ray Williams Jr look-alike at the ball return awaiting his shot. Meanwhile 7-10 Hudgins is sitting indian style in his seat oddly with his right arm in the air as he is waving his fingers back and fourth in slow motion)

(PBA ANNOUNCERS - Chris Schenkel & Nelson Burton Jr)

CHRIS SCHENKEL: Yes we are here in the Pavilion at Manhattan Beach and your looking at Walter Ray Williams Jr and he is up now in the tenth frame.

NELSON BURTON JR: Needs two strikes to win the match.

(The fake Walter Ray Williams Jr grabs his ball, assumes the position and goes for his shot. All of the sudden 7-10 Hudgins jumps up out of his seat, sprints over to the fake Walter Ray and tackles him midway on his approach. Ball flies out of the camera shot as both men land one lane over)


(Image appears on TV screen)


NELSON BURTON JR: Well, he has to be disappointed. Did not throw a good shot and ultimately ends up with a very difficult spare.

CHRIS SCHENKEL: Can you imagine that?

(Camera opens back to LIVE action with 7-10 Hudgins getting up and pointing to the crowd)



05-19-09, 11:53 PM
(OPEN ON: A long and very poorly lit alleyway, its borders peppered with the occasional dumpster, gathering of boxes, passed out bum and stray, wandering cat. At first silhouetted, but gradually coming into view as a plume of smoke rises and stretches behind him is Knuckles Malone, but you don't want to call him that, "Knuckles."

He drags off a butt as he yaps.)

Knuckles: The name's Mugsy. Mugsy Malone, sonnyjim and you better start tryin to forget it right the f*ck now. I got a lot of things waiting on you, Dakota, a lot more than you could ever wanna count and I can sure as Shirley Temple's little nanny tastes like french vanilla ice cream and honey with fried chocolate on top guarantee you that you aint never had anything hurt so much as what I got waiting for you.

I know yer name and yer dumb mug and I seen ya wrestle. I seen ya flop around like a greasy little three dollar and thirty-five cent wh*re after two pints of whiskey and half a dozen doses of d*ck. Yer about as intimidating as a freshly raped corpse. I heard the winner's dib is more than twice the losers so I'm gonna have to give ya the high hat here and hurt ya more than the Brown Bomber did Schmeling, see?

I heard ya talk about respect or integrity or smoking penises and how the blood stains on yer shorts resemble the almighty Jesus with a shorter haircut and a rack like Hayworth's. I can smell ya from here, see? You smell like bullsh*t and stale p*ssy. You smell like fear and regret and I got some seersuckin free samples of grief and pain for your dopey little a*s.

Dakota Assington, I hereby place you at number one on Mack's gadamn most wanted. An' I only want ya worthless bindlestiff hide for one thing, see? Now get ready and write it down cos I'm only sayin it to ya once, you aint worth more words an' breath than what I already tossed away on ya here. I wanna set an example of ya. I'm takin a veteran like you, a shiny little do-goodie button at that and I'm gonna break ya up. Sure as Lindberg flew the gaddamned Atlantic, I'm flyin yer a*s up a damn flagpole and whoever the h*ll don't salute can sure as Shirley Temple juggles dildoes and fairydust bet that their a*s just made my hit list.

Call the elephant ears, call yer papa, call the dern federals, there isn't a force on earth saving you from the knuckling yer about to suffer, egg. Blame yer dumb fat mouth and rue the day yer heard the name Mugsy Gadamn Malone.

(A loud CRACK of Malone's knuckles is heard as we begin to FADE OUT. However, we slowly FADE IN once more to catch Malone taking a few steps away from the camera before abruptly stopping and turning to face us)

Knuckles: Oh yeah...Johnny Number 1 Douche, don't ya never traipse up near my shiners again, see? Ya scuff 'em up an' well, you don't want to do that now. You understand.

(A beat. As Malone crooks his head back and forth, loosening up.)

Knuckles: Dakota. Don't ya worry now, when yer poor bruised, battered, bloodied blodjam of an a*s is laid up in the infirm, I'll be there, when this is all said and done, to counsel and content your poor, grieving mother.


06-01-09, 06:14 PM
(Backstage at the House of Blues in Mandalay Bay, LVW talent rep/fanboy-with-a-pass IGGY DORKJANKER has been spent the past thirty-six minutes and forty-three seconds locked in a life and death struggle with the world’s “wrinkliest” one dollar bill and the slot in a vending machine. No doubt, we can draw parallels from this picture to his sex life.)



(Unfortunately for Iggy, since much of the show had been missed due to his one-tracked determination to nab that last Zagnut he’s had his eye on since he showed up for the show earlier in the evening, he isn’t quite expecting what’s about to happen next as he grimaces over George Washington’s crumpled face spewing back at him for the thousandth time.)

Olvir Arsvinnar



(The entire resort casino and hotel QUAKES as the voice louder than a million storming hurricanes ERUPTS from right around the corner! Iggy springs nearly three feet into the air and turns to the nondescript hallway as a pair of fearful stage hands dash by, literally running for their lives.)

(Then, suddenly emerging into the frame is the HUFFING and STEAMING form of the notorious titanic-sized pornstar Viking that’s made WAVES through the worlds of professional wrestling and pornography. Now LOOMING over the pale-faced Iggy Dorkjanker is the MASSIVE FRAME of OLVIR ARSVINNAR!! His eye, blue as the Arctic icecaps, are practically FLAMING with rage!)


Iggy Dorkjanker

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Iggy’s entire pate of hair rushes back as if facing a gale of blowing wind. Without hesitation, Olvir turns to the VENDING MACHINE and grasps it within his mighty hands…)

(In the next shot, we see Dorkjanker SPRINTING around another corner, squealing like a Kindergartner. Moments later, the vending machine comes HURTLING THROUGH THE HAIR, shattering into a THOUSAND PIECES against the wall! The fawned-over Zagnut comes sailing through the air, and, by coincidence, smacks the LVW talent rep in the back of the head as he continues his retreat.)

Iggy Dorkjanker

(The pleas thrown over his shoulder fall on the deaf ears of the maddened Norseman now rounding the corner.)

Olvir Arsvinnar



(The storm bursts its way into the common area backstage. More crew members, taking a load off now that production has ceased, scatter like birds. Olvir steps up to the nearest table.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(He FLIPS IT OVER without effort, sending at least half a dozen snacks scattered across the floor.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Roaring like a beast, he charges shoulder-first into the Coke machine, knocking it over and sending the entire line of Sprite rolling out through the dispenser.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

(Olvir’s raging eyes find the fearful form of Iggy standing with his back plastered to the wall. The Viking stomps over to him and picks him up a foot of the ground by his shirt collar.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
And MARK MY WORDS, Puny Ignatius… when the FOOL has at last been SMOTE BENEATH MY UNYIELDING STRENGTH… I will take his woman upon my shoulder and DEFLOWER HER ARSE!!!

(A moment lingers as the Norseman continues to SNARL in Iggy’s whimpering face, their noses only separated by mere millimeters.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Now… WHO WAS IT?!?

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uhhh… uhhh… I d-dunno, Olvir.

Olvir Arsvinnar

Were you not WATCHING that cowardly act of ROBBERY when it happened?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, uh… w-well, you see, I was a bit, uhm… d-distracted at the time.

(Effortlessly, Olvir TOSSES Iggy aside as if he had the resale value of used toilet tissue and continues angrily stomping down the hallway, punching and breaking everything that so much as looks out of place.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

NOBODY dishonors a Viking and GETS AWAY WITH IT!!!

(SQUISH!! As he departs, Olvir’s massive furry boot stamps down on the last remaining Zagnut left carelessly on the floor. Iggy, dusting himself off as he gets to his feet, grimaces over the fate of his candy bar. Fade to black as more carnage can be heard going down deeper backstage.)

The Great Eye
06-08-09, 08:46 PM
Rp for this match here.

The Great Eye
06-08-09, 08:46 PM
Rp for this match here.

The Great Eye
06-08-09, 08:46 PM
Main event Rp here.

06-10-09, 04:00 AM
(FADEIN: A luxurious apartment somewhere in Vegas. The Spaniard reclines in his chair. His mask does not leave much to say about his current state of mind but no doubt he is deep in thought. We can tell by...)

SPANIARD: One-two-four-eight...one-two-four-eight...one-two-fo - HOLY MOSES! THA'SS IT!

(CUTTO: LVW backdrop...inside said apartment's master bedroom. Hands in his hips, SPANIARD's chest blossoms out to an erect wall of manly muscle.)

SPANIARD: Allo mi amigos. For I have come across a grave new revelation while in the high, high lofts of my kingdom...I have broken the code. A code that is no question in my mind will reveal a name later...has been cracked! By the one and only Spaniard, of course! Now, the code means...

(ZOOMIN: SPANIARD's blue eyes peering into the souls of those watching.)

SPANIARD: One plus two...plus four...is seven. Plus eight...is fifteen. FIFTEEN! That's the answer. My next opponent shall wrestle like a 15 year old girl.

(SPANIARD looks around curiously and shrugs. He looks at his bed and orders a McSleep Sandwich with a side of snore.)



06-10-09, 05:24 PM
(Fade in, and we’re inside a local Las Vegas fitness center. The camera tracks down a row of standard weight lifting equipment, catching the expressions of various body builders in between reps as they crane their heads toward the sound of LOUD and labored breathing.)







(The camera comes to a stop as it reaches the famed pornography director, TOMMY SALAMI, for once seen wearing gray sweats instead of his typical leisure suit, floral print shirt, and knock-off gold chains. His attention is heavily fixed on the person occupying the bench in front of him. We quickly find the source of the heavy, rhythmic breathing—a towering muscular titan holding a horned helmet, standing, now with his back to the camera.)

Olvir Arsvinnar




Tommy Salami
Come on, Olvir! Just five more reps!

Olvir Arsvinnar

(The camera zooms out, ever so slightly, now revealing the notorious Viking pornstar from the waist up. Surprisingly, his arms are angled out firmly at his sides, in a typical Superman pose. Still, we can hear the Ultimate Warrior-style snarled breathing, and the slight shake of a bar, leaving one to wonder, “What THE HELL is he DOING?”)

Olvir Arsvinnar


(Zoom out a bit further… now we can see the bar. Rather than fitting both ends with weights, we see two of the triplets, now referred to in some circles as “the Ixie Chicks”, sitting on either end. The bar, for that matter, seems to be hovering in air… right around where Olvir’s pelvic region is. Every time he lets out a snarling powerful exhale, the bar raises a few inches, and lowers. Suddenly, it becomes perfectly clear just what MUSCLE he’s exercising.)


Olvir Arsvinnar



(The statuesque brunette doppelgangers drop down from the bar and set it in place, relieving the sweat-drenched Norsemen of his burden. Olvir readjusts his wolf-hide loincloth and turns to bear his masculine greatness to the camera, beaming a HUGE, triumphant grin.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! YET ANOTHER meager weightlifting record broken by the GREAT OLVIR!! And even further proof that MY GREATNESS can carry ANY BURDEN!!

(The third triplet of the two-thirds of like hotness enters the frame, wearing an emerald green bikini to contrast with the ruby red and sapphire blue of her sisters’, and employs the use of a towel to dab the sweat first from Olvir’s forehead, then works her way down to his pectorals.)

Great workout, Olvir! I guess all that PUMPING has left you a little tired, huh?

(Olvir SCOFFS!! An errant fly happening to flutter past his face at that very moment explodes into insect oblivion.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! You DARE to DEFY the GREATNESS that has PLEASED SO MANY WENCHES?! COME, bountiful maidens…

(The mighty, python-sized arms of the notorious Viking pornstar draw in all three stunningly beautiful women.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
You will SEE that my GREATNESS can NEVER TIRE, even under the MIGHTIEST OF BURDENS!! Even after ONE MILLION meager lifts… I am ready to PUMP SOME MORE!! HA HA HA HA!!

Now… shall we try ALL THREE?!?

(The girls begin to rub their hands down Olvir’s chiseled body. Catching on to the action, Tommy Salami briefly pops in front of the camera.)

Tommy Salami
Oh man, he’s at it! Whatever you do, DON’T STOP ROLLING!!

(He zips out behind the camera as the action starts to pick up…)

(…inexplicably, IGGY DORKJANKER steps into the frame and approaches Olvir.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Hey, Olvir… you got a minute?

(COCKBLOCK!! The Great Olvir’s beaming face is BEFOULED with the gruffest of sneers.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! Can it not wait until LATER, puny YANKER of DORKS!! The GREAT OLVIR is a trite BUSY at present!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Yeah, I hate to be a bother… but I figured if I didn’t get this out of the way now, you’d be busy ramming asses for the next four hours. It won’t take long.

Olvir Arsvinnar
HMPH!! TELL ME, puny Ignatius, why your coming to me is SO IMPORTANT that it must PRECEDE this MOST MIGHTY ACT of BUTT DOMINANCE!?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
It has to do with your upcoming match at LVW 4:18. I just wanted to hear your opinions on your opponents.

(The Norseman broods for a moment until one of the triplets tugs lightly at his flowing blonde beard.)

Come on, Olvir… we want to hear what you have to say about your match!

Yeah! It gets us SOOO hot to hear you talk about how much you’re going to destroy them!

(They continue beginning with light, siren voices. Olvir thoughtfully strokes his beard for a moment and nods when a decision is reached.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
VERY WELL!! The Great Olvir, in his ALL-SEEING WISDOM, will SPEAK THE TRUTH of the PUNY, INSIGNIFICANT FOOLS that await DECAPITATION upon the field of BATTLE!!

AND THEN… when the WEAKLINGS are left WHIMPERING and COWERING IN FEAR at the mere SIGHT of my GREAT PRESENCE… they will no doubt cower even MORE, like the meager INSECTS they are, at the sight of my GREATNESS, as I DOMINATE the SUPPLE ARSES of these BOUNTIFUL MAIDENS!! HA HA HA HA!!

(The Viking pornstar pops a squat on the bench as the triplets lounge about his limbs, massaging various stress centers around his neck and joints. Olvir’s attention, however, is directed to the man before him.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
You have come to me NOW, Iggy the Dorkyanker, amid my STRENUOUS and VIGOROUS preparation for the battle that awaits me!

Iggy Dorkjanker
…pumping weights with your JUNK prepares you for battle? You mean to tell me you’re going to beat Aaron Roddick and “The Captain” David Richter with your, uh… “Greatness?”

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! Do not be FOOLISH, meager Dorkyanker! What you have WITNESSED is merely my preparation for the DEBAUCHERY and BUTT DOMINATION that will FOLLOW my glorious battle!

When all of this golden kingdom of Las Vegas witnesses the QUICK, PAINFUL DESTRUCTION of my FOOLISH opponents, COUNTLESS women will FLOCK to the GREAT OLVIR… and my GREATNESS must be READY!! HA HA HA HA!!

(Olvir suddenly spots something unusual.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
IGNATIUS!! You come blessed with the FUZZY PHALLUS of HERALDS!!

Iggy Dorkjanker

(Iggy looks to his junk first, just to make sure it’s not exposed… then realizes Olvir was referring to the mic in his hand. The tacky suit with it is not quite the fanboy get-up we’re used to. He even has a press badge this time.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh right… this. Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.

Olvir Arsvinnar
What is the GOOD NEWS?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
…you know, it works a bit better if I give the bad news first. So here’s the bad news… I got fired earlier today. I’m not longer a LVW talent representative. I guess one of the higher ups finally figured, “Hey, what the hell does a talent rep DO, exactly?” So I got the axe.

Olvir Arsvinnar
MOST UNFORTUNATE, meager Ignatius! Still… a REMARKABLE FEAT to have survived a most BRUTAL AXING!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh… right.

Anyway, the good news is… LVW subsequently rehired me, now as an exclusive reporter. Basically, that means I wear this suit every day, follow you around, and ask you tedious questions so the public keeps up to date on one of the federation’s biggest stars.

Olvir Arsvinnar
AH!! So the NOBLE VALKYRIES saw fit to RETURN YOU as a HERALD!! A most FORTUNATE fast to be GRANTED, noble Ignatius!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Yeah, I can’t complain… but anyway, back to the matter at hand. At LVW 4:18, you’re in a tag match. Standing on the other end of the ring are two men who you have reason to have some grief with: “A-Rod” Aaron Roddick and “The Captain” David Richter, collectively known as The Empire.

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA… in the great many YEARS that the GREAT OLVIR has traveled this globe, he has BEATEN the greatest champions, USURPED the vilest czars, DETHRONED the noblest kings, and DOMINATED more fine ARSES than he can count! But if there is yet but ONE THING I have NOT done… it is to CONQUER an EMPIRE!!

For what seems as though TIMELESS EONS, I have waited for such an opportunity… and now, a pair of the most VILEST KNAVES to ever INSULT my GREATNESS have GIVEN ME that VERY CHANCE!!

(Seething with confident, Olvir throws his head back and lets out UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER!)

Olvir Arsvinnar

It was by mere CHANCE that he ESCAPED humiliating defeat at my MIGHTY HANDS!! No doubt, before our duel, he CURSED my GREATNESS by offering a COWARDLY SACRIFICE to LOKI!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, actually… A-Rod kinda ran in and clocked you with that baseball without his knowledge.

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! The AUDACITY of the knave who calls himself the A-ROD!! First of all, there is only ONE rod…

(He points to his pelvic region.)

Olvir Arsvinnar

But even MORE AUDACIOUS and BLASPHEMOUS… the knave STRIKES the GREAT OLVIR, from the angle where he is BLIND… in the most CRUCIAL MOMENT of his glorious battle with the WEAK CAPTAIN!!

Victory was ROBBED from me, and many POOR FOOLS were justly DECAPITATED in the BLOODLUST that overwhelmed me as I SEARCHED for the COWARD!!

Unfortunately for HIM, he WILL NOT run from me when we are in the NOBLE ARENA and upon the field of BATTLE!! I will bring the COWARDLY ROGUE to YUSTICE… and SINK the PUNY VESSEL of the MEAGER CAPTAIN that DARES disgrace the STRIPPERS of this NOBLE KINGDOM with his FILTH and WEAKNESS!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Olvir, I told you before, the LVW Strip Title is… ah, forget it.

Sounds like you’re ready to get to some serious domination with the Empire, and good luck to you on that. But there’s another factor in this match we haven’t talked about yet, and that’s your tag partner, a one “Knuckles” Malone.

Olvir Arsvinnar
HMPH!! TELL ME of this man of KNUCKLES who will be graced with the HONOR to fight alongside THE GREAT OLVIR in his time of CONQUEST!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, he’s a bit of a new face on the LVW scene, but he’s already made a bit of an impact. Back at Snake Eyes, he made quite a debut by brutally attacking both The Spaniard and Nate Dakota.

Olvir Arsvinnar

Iggy Dorkjanker
How so?

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA!! Naturally, when there are WEAKLINGS that come to DISGRACE the noble arena, one must have the VALOR and COURAGE to SMITE such WEAK FOOLS and retain the HONOR of the battlefield! Such an act shows VIRTUE!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
If you say so. But the question now is, will you be able to co-exist?

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! Such a trifling question! If this Malone of the Knuckles is in ANY WAY as BRILLIANT or NOBLE as the VIKINGS, then he will NO DOUBT not make the FOOLISH attempt to STAND IN MY WAY or IMPEDE THE DESTRUCTION of the FOES that have wronged me!!

I am CONFIDENT, Ignatius, that we will work WELL together… and that spells certain DOOM for the KNAVES of the THE EMPIRE!! Perhaps AFTER our GLORIOUS VICTORY, I will invite this Malone back to my LONGHOUSE to put his KNUCKLES to ANOTHER USE!! HA HA HA HA!!

(Again, his massive arms reach out and draw in the drop-dead gorgeous triplets.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
What say YOU, loyal wenches?! Does that strike your liking?!

Oh OLVIR… I’m so HOT right now!

Why are you still talking when you could be dominating us right now??

Take us, Olvir… TAKE US!!

Olvir Arsvinnar

IGNATIUS!! Make your meager self SCARCE!! My WORK-OUT CONTINUES!!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh boy… right, Olvir. I’ll catch you later.

(Looking a bit flushed, the newly hired LVW reporter dashes out of the scene, likely running to the men’s room to pop out a quick one. Meanwhile, the scantily-clad trio LUNGE upon the boasting Viking. Fade to black as the action begins.)

06-11-09, 03:31 AM
"The following is an excerpt from the LVW Snake Eyes TV Taping, available on DVD next month!"

(FADEIN: Lying on his couch at center ring is the Gentleman of Leisure. He’s sporting a gray hooded sweatshirt and matching sweatpants with sneakers. Leaning his head on one hand, a microphone in the other, he speaks…)

GOL: “Ladies and gentleman, this is…Leisure Time…where life is so easy that…it should be, by all means…illegal. I am, of course, your host…the Gentleman of Leisure, and today I have a very special guest. Please welcome the…LVW Champion, Just One Dude Looking For…um…well, we call him…J1D.” (Crowd POPS!)

(CUEUP: “Down” by 311)

(A clean-shaven but nappy-headed J1D comes out to roaring cheers. He lifts the LVW red and platinum Championship Title, complete with spinner, above his head while squinting his eyes and smiling with an overbite as if to say “Shyyyyaahhhh!!!” Fans are reaching out to touch the belt and J1D is happy to comply, dragging it along their hands, letting them flick the spinner. Following him is a very dapper individual in an expensive suit; he looks like a young Johnny Cochrane. J1D chucks his title under the ropes and slides in after it, picking it up and raising it to the crowd one more time to massive applause)

GOL: “J1D...LVW Champion or….pretender to the throne? (J1D shakes his head as the crowd boos) Not my sentiments…in fact…but those of the number one contender…Born Again. What say you…champ?”

(J1D grabs the mic)

J1D: “Hey, hey, hey, how’s it hangin’ DUUUUDES?! (CROWD: “J1D! J1D! J1D!”) Every day of my life just keeps getting gnarlier and gnarlier, which would make today the GNARLIEST DAY OF MY LIFE! SHYAH! (Looks at GOL) Thanks for allowing me to make your most excellent acquaintance brah, and under better circumstances I might just cancel this whole interview and invite you back to my locker room bungalow for a little toke n’ smoke! Unfortunately, I gotta come out here and do something I didn’t wanna…and that’s talk BUSINESS! (Boos) Shyaaahhhh! Business SUCKS MAN! (Cheers!) Especially when it’s the business of defending your title reign to a bunch of bogus ASSWIPES like Born Again and his attorney! But the Battle Royal’s in the past brah, dead and buried…we surfed that wave and did so BEAUTIFULLY, and now we’re on to bigger, better, and bodaciously dudelier things…like KICKING BORN AGAIN’S PASTY WHITE ASSSS, BRAH!” (Cheers!)

GOL: “All well and good. But the…match will be fought under…the Lord’s Rules. Wouldn’t you say the odds are…stacked against you?”

J1D: “Like a bad game of Jenga, dude! But if Jerry thinks he’s shredded sand on the DUDELY ONE, he most definitely thought wrong! Shyahh dude, I said I’d wrestle him under the Lord’s Rules, but he’s not skating free with some BOGUS BULLCRAP stipulations that his attorney drew up. Hey Magnus Von Brosefsson, do you really think I’ll do some crap where like, you get to face me while my limbs are tied to sandbags, or like…a rabid bobcat gets superglued to my scalp? NOOOOO WAY! (Cheers!) That’s why I went out on the strip and found the best man ‘o law this side of the Palms Resort and Casino! I’m talkin’ about the bro with the mini-fro who smokes a whole lot of J1D’s vegetation growth…none other than QUINCY REGGIE RATLIFF JR!”

RATLIFF: “Yes, hi…is this thing on? Perfect. Your champion, Mr. D, or J1 as I prefer to reference him, has provided me with the in-dubious honor of reviewing any and all title defense contracts offered up by the EL-VEE-DOUBLE-YOU, especially those containing so-called Lord’s Rules stipulations, as I’ve come to understand them. Actually, I have NOT come to understand them, as no such Rules have yet been put forth. So we kindly ask…no, scratch that…we will not-so-kindly sue your asses, should no such rules be presented my client by this time next week.”

J1D: “YEAH BRAH! So Ben Lerner can EAT IT!” (Cheers!)

RATLIFF: “Yes, this is correct. Essentially, Ben Learner can ea-WHAT? ‘Scuse me? Come again? Did you say Ben Lerner?”

J1D: “Shyah brah, Ben Lerner.”

RATLIFF: “Ben Lerner Attorney at Law?”

J1D: “I’m pretty sure, yeah dude. Buttmunch who’s talkin’ smack on me and my people’s title reign.”

RATLIFF: “The ‘hard hitter’ from the commercials? Oh boy…no baby, this is wrong, it’s just all wrong! I didn’t come out here to take on Mr. Ben Lerner. Ben, if you are listening…I am SO SORRY Ben…” (Heavy boos!)

J1D: “WHAAAAT? Duuuude! No dude, NOT COOL! We came out here to stand up to authority…to stick it to the man!”

RATLIFF: “Yeah I said stick it to the man…not stick it to THE MAN. Oh my goodness gracious, Ben Lerner knows every judge in town…my practice could be ruined if he found out I was here (nervously)…umm…uhh…I have uhh…reviewed the legality of your title reign, and have determined that it is, beyond a shadow of a doubt…ILLEGAL! (Crowd boos loud!) Mr. Born Again should be champion…he MUST BE champion! So I’ll just be taking that belt back…” (latches onto the LVW Championship Title in a tug of war with J1D)

J1D: “No brah! You sold me out! You can’t have it!”

GOL: “Oh God…they’re fighting for it.”

(The two men struggle over the belt for a second until J1D pulls it out of his hands, and picks up Ratliff in a full body press. The crowd is cheering big time, but they explode in excitement as J1D runs up to the ring ropes and TOSSES RATLIFF INTO THE FRONT ROW! The crowd erupts in an LVW! chant, as Ratliff gets crowd surfed to the back of the building! J1D picks up the mic)

J1D: “You see that Born Again?! You can hire a bunch of crooked ass lawyers to try and steal you this belt, as many as you want! You can try and force your dumb rules on me! You can pray, not eat meat, refuse a toke of the doobie, and circumsize your weasel all you like…but this building? This place? THIS IS MY CHURCH, BRAH! (Cheers!) In fact, it’s a MEGACHURCH! And just like those tourists who ruin the beaches of Hawaii pretending to shred when they just bought their first boogie board last season, pretending to be professionals and all…YOU DON’T HAVE A PRAYER OF SHREDDING THIS WAVE MAHARASHI! This title? It stays with US!”

(CUEUP: “Down” by 311)

(CROWD: “J1D! J1D! J1D! J1D!”)


06-12-09, 03:07 PM
(FADEIN: J1D leaning back on his red beanbag with the red and platinum LVW Championship Title draped over his waist. His floor is littered with fritos, surfing magazines, casino chips, and wheel barings for his skateboard. He looks at the camera with bloodshot eyes)

J1D: Hey there dudes, come check out the life of a champion! It totally consists of hangin' ten in my sweet digs, chillaxin' with the gnarley fans who made me what I am, and day dreamin' about the surf! Sure, I gotta eat a little foam every now and then, but I'm the type of dude who gets right back out there and TRIES, TRIES AGAIN BRAH!

Unlike Born Again, who doesn't know how to have a good time or chillax...he just gets all aggro on people like a dumbass for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON WHATSOEVER BRO!

Seven Ten is cool with me; I know he likes to bowl. I, too, brah, like to bowl, and maybe we can mozey on down to the lanes and go half in for some grindage while we hit the pins!

Except it's gonna have to be after I ref this match, cause then people might not think I'm being down the middle. And I AM gonna call it down the middle...believe me bro.

If there's one thing I pride myself on other than smokin' bowls with LVW fans and letting them abuse my belt spinner, it's being a pretty fair guy. And as much as an assclown I think Born Again is, I fully intend to enforce the LVW rulebook...which The Floor needs to get to me, cuz dude I have NO CLUE what it says, hahaha, GOTTA BE HONEST!

And bro...if I see Ben Lerner or any potential Born Again minions trying to scuff up the mojo in the ring...I'm gonna be all over them like a 7-11 brainfreeze!!!!

You guys get in the ring, shake hands, or not...whatever...and get down to putting on a show for the coolest fans OF-ALL-TIME! Cuz if you don't, seriously dude?...I'm gonna be p*ssed. And I HATE to be p*ssed cause it's not the Gandhi way...

If you just keep it nice and legal, and Born Again if you apologize...maybe we can all just be friends afterwards and I can add your cell phones to my Broladex and hit you up sometime to scarf down on some megabean burritos at the bodega sometime.


Sorry dudes, didn't mean to aggro there.

Peace everyone, be good, and remember...at the end of the day we're all just one dude looking for adventure, but should by all means be willing to party along the way!