View Full Version : TEAM Super Show I: Andrew Gilkison vs. Ravager vs. Ulysis Solian vs. Danny Boy Vegas

07-02-06, 10:57 PM
Promo Deadline: Wednesday, July 12th, 11:59:59 PM

Several worlds collide in this elimination-style four-way dance. Will the winner be the two-time former A1E Cyber Champion, the artist formerly known as Suicide, the former NAPW World Champion or the flashy big man from Sin City?

07-04-06, 04:58 PM
NAPW superstar Ravager. Waiting at a park bench. He doesn't seem to be noticing the heat. He doesn't pay attention to the stares he gets from people. All he cares about is the person who is rushing over to meet him.

Bryan: I'm sorry, traffic was terrible...

Ravager: I've been waiting half an hour. You ask me to take on a job most would call a "charity case". The only reason I agreed was because you said you had something "exceptional".

Bryan: I do!

He pulls several tapes, as well as some DVD's, out of his backpack.

Bryan: Tapes on all your opponents for the Super Show in Boston!

Ravager: I could have gotten these off the Internet. I could have gone to my usual source...

Bryan: Yeah, but you would have had to wait, what, a week? Two? And the show on the 16th. You have immediate access...

Ravager: You don't need to continue talking. You've said your piece. I'm satisfied. Now leave, and don't call me again.

Bryan wisely does what he's told. Ravager looks over the tapes he's been given.

Ravager: For the past seven months, I've made the NAPW my home. I've had my ups and downs. I've won titles, broken bones, and crushed dreams. Last month, I was given the chance of a lifetime. I was offered a spot in the Tournament of Champions. And I eagerly accepted, only to see another NAPW veteran, the so called NAPW legend D!, win the title.

I don't want to make excuses. I don't want to sit here and complain. But seeing that man walk around with the Champion of Champions belt. Seeing the way people fawn over him. Makes me sick. Funny story. When I won my only NAPW title? It was against D! But people seem to forget that. And apparently that fact is not enough to get me a title shot. Which is fair. But not necessarily right.

Then I heard about the TEAM show in Boston. D! would be defending the title, but there were spots available for guys who wanted... no deserved the chance. I threw my hat in the ring. I didn't care what kind of match. I didn't care who my opponent was. Lucky me, I now have three. Andrew Gilkison. Ulysis Solian. Danny Boy Vegas. I'm going to spend the next few days getting to know you boys as well as possible. Because you all stand in my way of my true goal. The Champion of Champions Title.

I only hope D! still has the belt when I get my shot.

Ravager smirks, and walks away. Fade to black.

07-05-06, 04:10 PM
July 5th, 2006. Calgary, Alberta, Canada. NAPW's flagship show, Tuesday Night Fights, is on the road. And it has just come to a shocking conclusion, as Ravager has just taken out former NAPW champion Rex Caliber. A jubilant Ravager emerges from ringside, and quickle makes his way out of the building.

Ravager: I'm used to being the smallest man in the fight. I'm used to being the sanest man in the fight. But one thing is always the same.

I am the better man in the fight.

Danny Boy Vegas. Power. Size. Hardcore ability.

Ulysis Solian. Mystery Man. All around skills.

Andrew Gilkison. Yet another all around wrestler.

I am in for the fight of my life June 16th. I admit that.

But none of you have ever seen me backed into a corner. I've taken down big men before. I destroyed a man for threatening my family. I will sink to any depths to get a win. Why?

Wrestling is a business. And to get ahead in this business, you have to win. For a while I concerned myself with honor and fairplay. And I started to lose matches. And I was mocked by the other wrestlers. And I was shunted down the card. So I made some changes. Last week I suplexed a referee who made a bad call in my match. Tonight, I dropped the former NAPW champ on his head. Now I'm back in the spotlight. My name is on everyone's lips. And I have the chance to make an impact on an international stage.

To all those who doubted me: be watching June 16th.

To all those who mocked me: grow eyes in the back of your head. You made the wrong man angry.

And to my esteemed opponents: Elimination Is Inevitable. Nothing personal. Just business.

Ravager smirks at the camera and leaves before any NAPW official can chastise him for his actions on this night.

Fade to black.

07-05-06, 05:02 PM
I'm going to let this stack slide because I didn't make the rule explicitly clear and because you're new to the way we do things in TEAM when we don't have an RP limit.

FOr the future, you may not post another promo before any of your opponents have posted one until 48 hours after you posted your previous effort.

07-06-06, 05:08 AM
So this is Ravager, huh. You are a real piece of work, my friend.

Am I supposed to be impressed by you, Ravager? Am I really supposed to fear someone like you?

Sorry, pal, but I am just not very impressed by, or afraid of, a whiny little ***** who brags about how he is doing the basic attention whore stunts that every "good guy who goes bad" type of wrestler does every time they want to rejuvenate their dying careers.

Hell, man. I've been in that same position before. I did the same things. Everyone in this business at one time or another has. But you still have to make the big impact where it counts. You have to get the big wins. You have to get the job done when the stakes are at the highest.

You can attack all the referees all you want. You can do all the run-ins you want. You can piss off the company's World Champion all you want. But sooner or later, you are going to have to back up your actions inside the ring, with the W, and the gold, and get the results.

So you cost the World Champ his match. So what? Anyone can do a run-in and interfere in someone else's match. That is not some great feat to be hanging your hat on like you just walked across the ocean. Every RAW or Smackdown or ECW main event has someone running in and playing a part in the finish, for crying out loud!

If you really want to make a big impact, why don't you be a little more creative in how you deal with your enemies. I don't know. It's just a thought.

And junior... about the referee thing you mentioned. Do you really want to brag about how you suplexed a skinny official because you were frustrated that the match you were in didn't go your way, and you were looking for someone to blame for YOUR FAILURE?

That isn't some great accomplishment, Ravager. That is just throwing a temper tantrum because you didn't get your way. That just means you are a cranky little *****, and that you need a nap.

Thank goodness Andrew ****ing Gilkison is here to put your lights out.

And when you come to, you will have yet another failure to whine and ***** and moan about. Maybe you will be in good enough shape to get our referee up for a suplex, when you blame him for your loss in this match.

The only impact you will be making will be on the canvas, when you are slammed down upon it with the Andybomb. And that is when I will cover you, and get the one two three over you, causing you to be an even bigger laughing stock than you are right now.

And no amount of DVDs you study will be able to stop me from making that happen.

Yeah, Ravager, you will most certainly be in for the fight of your life. And I am not talking about the other two guys in this match with us.

With me alone, you are going to get way more than you are capable of handling.

But I am glad to see this match isn't personal for you though, Ravager. Good to see you realize that you've probably got enough enemies coming after your head, and that you don't want anymore hunting for you.

Like you said Ravager; it's just business.

Unfortunately for you three guys, my business at this show will be very profitable, while yours will hit a bit of a downslide.

I didn't sign up for this show to be outclassed. I came here to fight. I came here to test myself against the best. I came here to become the Champion of Champions. I came here to be at the top of the mountain. I came here to prove myself as the very best.

You all are going to be the proof of that greatness.

I am going to outshine you three in every way possible, and I am going to win.

It is as simple as that.

07-06-06, 04:05 PM
Ravager, simply adressing the camera. He seems humbled.

Wow. Finally put in my place. Thank you Andrew Gilkison. I never realized that all I wanted was attention. I guess it stems back to my relationship with my father. I never got the positve role model that you obviously had growing up, and as a result I lash out at inapproprite times, and have problems dealing with authority, my emotions, ... everything, I guess.

Maybe I need to make some changes. Be more open about my feelings. Show respect to my opponents. Shake hands with the referee before my match. Maybe I should start a church group, or read to inner city kids to help ease my conscience.

It's a good thing you made me realize this now, before our match, Andrew. Hopefully now you'll be less annoyed with me. I mean, I'd have hated to be hit with your Gilkmission, or Gilkieplex Heaven, or, God help me, The Gilknation. Then I'd have to watch you leave in the Gilkmobile as you drive back to the Gilkcave...

Oh who the hell am I trying to kid? You name your every maneuver after yourself, and yet I'm a "piece of work", and "an attention whore"? Gilkison, better men than you have tried to analyse me. Better men than you have tried to beat me. And more often than not, they fail. Cheap shots and run ins, they don't help me win matches. They help me get through the rest of my day without getting bored.

Talent. Drive. Using the rules to my advantage. That's what helps me win. And I win more matches than I lose. You obviously haven't done your research, if you think you can figure me out so easily. Don't try to get in my head, boy. You won't like what you find.

You try and make me look like nothing special. That everyone else has done what I do to get attention. And you know, there really was nothing special about what I did to Rex, or that referee.

But it still got people talking about me. It got you talking about me. If I wasn't a threat, why would you even care? I mean, Solian and Vegas? They both have a lot more experience than I do. They're more well known than I am. They are both huge threats in this match.

But you took the time to trash talk me.

(smirks) Guess I'm doing something right after all.

Worry about your own actions before you try and criticize mine.

And Andrew, despite your thoughts to the contrary, you need to worry about me July 16th. Cause I'm always good for a surprise or two.

Fade to Black.

07-06-06, 10:08 PM
I am *still* NOT impressed, Ravager.

Ooooohhh... look!! He made fun of my names for my finishers!!

You want to pat yourself on the back for that little comeback of yours? Don't. It was funny when Beast did it, but you just make it sound so lame, like everything else that comes out of your mouth.

But when we have this match, you will be able to see a lot more similarities between me and Batman than just what I name my weapons after.

You will also feel the brunt of a human being in peak physical condition, taking out you and two other punks like a supernatural monster who can't be stopped.

And unlike the Dark Knight, I won't need the darkness of night and a fancy costume to make me look scary in the shadows. I will just need to show up and hand out ass whooping after ass whooping like candy to kids on Halloween.

Make no mistake about it, Ravager. You are no more a threat to me than the other two guys in this match. It is just the fact that you are the one that opened your idiot yap first, and said a bunch of stupid ****, that was what got me talking about you.

It doesn't mean you are special. It just means I am actually doing my part to help promote this match, unlike Solian and Vegas.

Get inside your head? I don't think that was what I was doing at all, chief. I think I was just responding to your justifications for acting like a horses ass. First, you said you did all of that to get people talking about you. That right there makes you an attention whore. And when I called you on that, you tried to turn it around and laugh it off as your way of starving off mere boredom.

Who are you trying to kid?

You used to be a big success. The success faded, and now you are trying every desperate attempt possible to keep from sliding down into mediocrity, with clichéd run-ins and sneak attacks and beating up on referees when you lose matches.

It's not anymore complex than that. I don't need to be a psychologist to see that you are a desperate man trying to desperately keep his dying career afloat.

I am not judging you for it either.

I could care less how many referees you beat up and throw around with suplexes, or how many times you attack your good buddy Rex and cost him matches. Do it as long as it makes you feel better about yourself. I really don't give a ****, Ravager.

But it's not going to make me respect you. It isn't going to put my shoulders down on the mat for the one two three. It doesn't matter to me how many water cooler discussions you generate with your actions, because it is not going to give you any kind of edge over me whatsoever inside that ring.

But bring a surprise or two if you feel it will give you that edge. I will just shrug them off like I will with everything else in your arsenal, before I hit you with one of my finishers that I name after myself and then get my hand raised in victory after the match.

I am not worried that much about you, Ravager. On July 16, you are going to find out why.

Promise me you won't cry afterwards, when you find out you suffered another loss.

07-07-06, 07:31 PM
Again I fail to impress Andrew Gilkison. I guess my powers of insult aren't great. And your ability to look at what I say, and point out why I suck for saying everything I say, ... (pauses, he looks frustrated)

Andrew. Can we talk?

Sure, maybe I'm out of my league when it comes to zany humor. But I don't know what you expect out of me. This is wrestling. ... A sport. At least, last time I checked it was. We compete in the ring, brutalise our opponents, either with technical wrestling skill, or underhanded brawling tactics.

And make no mistake Andrew, I can do both. I can posture, and I can fight. It's all a matter of timing. You want me to come out here and "wow" you with something new and original? Guess what, we live in a very un-original world.

Funny you should say "It was funny when Beast did it." NAPW has a "Beast" who likes to mock me as well. Small world.

All I say is, don't judge me for me words today, or yesterday, or tomorrow. Judge me for what I'm going to do in the ring July 16th. That's when my actions matter most. Talk is cheap. But a dragon suplex collapsing your spine like an accordian? That's priceless.

Oh, and Danny Boy? Ulysis? Your lack of attention hurts me. As inane as Gilkison is, at least he's trying. (smirks)

Fade to Black

07-08-06, 08:21 PM
This is funny.

Ravager says stupid ****, brags about doing stupid ****, then gets called on it, and now he wants to backpedal and say "durrrreerrrrrr... seeeeee yyyyooooooouuuuu iiiiinnnnn theeeee riiiiiingg" to me.

I am not surprised he would give up so easily.

You are right about one thing though, Ravager. Talk is cheap. And your talk is so cheap I could buy it with loose change. Nothing you say has a whole lot of worth to anyone. Especially me.

And your actions, or specifically the ones you were bragging about earlier in the week, are equally as worthless.

So will your actions against me in the ring come July 16. I won't need to judge them, because the fans in attendance that night will be the ultimate judge, jury, and executioner for you.

After they see me trash you, and slap you around like the little ***** you are, they will judge you to be "not good enough" after they see that you failed to pin my shoulders down or make me submit.

It will be their cheers that echo throughout the arena, as the referee raises my hand, and you are laying on the mat, trying to recover from the ass kicking you received at my hands.

Maybe while you are in lala land while your shoulders are getting pinned to the mat by me, you can dream about collapsing my spine with your Dragon Suplex. But sadly for you, it will only remain a dream. Just like any plans you had of winning this match.

Nothing but pure fantasy.

When we step into the ring, all the talk will be over. Then, the actions will prove who is right and who is wrong.

I will be right. And you won't be any more wrong than you will be at that moment.

The other two guys are clearly not going to be a factor. It's going to come down to you and me, Ravager. And you will be the last one eliminated.

Deal with it.

07-09-06, 01:46 AM
{Just so you know, I was given permission by Dan (handler of Scott Riktor) to use his character in the following roleplay. Thank you.}

The camera faded in to the inside of the RingRats Academy in Orlando, Florda. It was a wrestling school that trained some of the upcoming wrestlers of the sport. Some well known and popular wrestlers helped started this school such as Scott Riktor and Larry Tact, to name a couple. Seen walking toward one of the wrestling rings inside the school was none other than Scott Riktor himself. Without looking where he was headed, Riktor shuffled through the letters.

Riktor: ”Bills….bills….bills….one of those AOL thirty day free trial beverage coasters…bills…”

Riktor paused for a moment as a strange, yet intriguing, letter appeared in his stack.

Riktor: ”This one is addressed to….Ulysis?”

Scott Riktor looked up toward the ring and saw a dark figure wearing a hooded sweater sitting in the center with its legs crossed, Indian-style. Riktor climbed up the steel steps at one of the corners of the ring and entered through the ropes slowly. He calmly walked over to the figure in the center of the ring and crouched down. With the sealed envelope extended, Scott Riktor laid his eyes upon the figure with friendship.

Riktor: ”Something strange just happened…you received a letter. No return address from what I can gather, but maybe you know who it is…”

The dark figure slowly reached out for the envelope and took it from Scott Riktor’s hands. Riktor nodded his head and proceeded to exit the ring. The figure slid his finger underneath the seal and opened the envelope. He removed the contents from it, which was essentially a bunch of papers stapled together. It looked to be like a letter specifically addressed to one person….Ulysis Solian.

”Dear Ulysis,

It has been quite a long time, hasn’t it? About two year, give or take a few months. I see you’ve been doing alright for yourself, as you are now with Legacy of Champions. It must be good knowing you are amongst your peers and specifically, your friends and loved ones. I hope Scott is doing alright. Seemed ever since he left IWF he has done better for himself, career-wise. How is Celeste? I hope she is doing well and that you two are consummating the marriage on daily basis. Heh.

But that isn’t why I am writing you. This isn’t a social call. This is more business than personal. I’ve heard through the grapevine that you were recently invited back to your old stomping grounds. I know it proved to be difficult when you accepted it considering your past as...well anyway, that’s neither here or there. What matters now is that when you head into this….TEAM….Super Show is it? Yes, when you go to this show and compete, just know that you’re not the guy who you once were that people revered and feared. You’re starting all over from scratch. It’s what you did when you came back to wrestling in Legacy of Champions and that’s exactly what you’re doing here now. No one cares about your past accolades and accomplishments as that ‘other’ person. Sure, the fans chant his name as if he never left….and maybe he hasn’t. I don’t know and more importantly you don’t know.

Anyway, before I continue on with an incoherent tangent, just know that you’re not entering some one-on-one contest. It seems the chips are stacked up against you once again in a very big way on your return. You’ve been thrusted into a four-way elimination match against some rambunctious, yet threatening, individuals. Though they sound like young lions who shoot their mouths off because they are young, wild, and running free, they also have weaknesses that you need to capitalize on and make them realize not to overlook you.

I’ve done some research on your opponents and they seem to have some experienced tacked under their belt. Actually, one of your opponents, Danny Boy Vegas….don’t ask, didn’t show much of a blip on the wrestling radar. I’m sure I’ll obtain more info from him soon, but for now, just don’t underestimate this individual due to lack of knowledge about him.

Moving on, your second opponent out of the three in this match appears to be some young buck named Ravager. Odd name, of course, though I don’t believe I should speak considering the name you used to wrestle under. Sorry, I didn’t mean to take a shot at you for that. My apologies. Anyway, it appears for the short time this individual has been wrestling, he actually has a World Championship and Provicinal Championship credited to him. He is currently a wrestler from New Alberta Pro Wrestling. A very promising and rising promotion, to be quite honest.

Ravager shares something in common with Turk, whom you’ve had the distinctive pleasure of meeting at one time or another….as S of course. They both were, or are in the case of Ravager, a hired gun. Given what I have heard from Ravager recently, it seems he uses the money he obtains from his jobs to buy new shoes. I guess one would have to when one talks with their foot in their mouth all the time. Now this is rich, in regards of Ravager running his mouth. He calls himself, get this, a ‘silent assassin’ and that he lets his ‘actions speak louder than his words’. Unless this kid can part the Red Sea and turn water into wine, I think you should really take his braggadocios words with a grain of salt. Granted…he beat up a referee and attacked the World Champion of NAPW from behind. If you could see me saying this, I’d more than likely be rolling my eyes.

Also, don’t be fooled by his ‘psychology’; it seems he wouldn’t know his id from his ego. I’m sure excrement has psyched out more wrestlers than he has. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. The kid can be quite crafty and wily, so do tread carefully. I’m sure, however, you will not have much of a problem.

Now for your last opponent, I do advise to really take him seriously as he can be the biggest threat to you in this match. Andrew Gilkison is a famed wrestler from the MBE and A1E promotions in Canada. Yes I know more Canadian wrestlers. If we weren’t punished enough with Jean Rabesque now you’re surrounded by more Canucks. Sorry. That slipped out again.

Back to business. Gilkison has a few titles under his belt and has more experience than Danny Boy Vegas and Ravager combined. He does sound confident and will do whatever it takes to win the match. Not to say that just about everybody says this, but that is not the point. He has the toolset to take you and everyone else in this match out. But his ego will cost him dearly, especially with his clichéd words. He did come off sounding a bit like that Ravager guy, but don’t judge him in the same light for that.

Andrew Gilkison will definitely be the one you should focus on. But do not turn your back away from Ravager and Danny Boy Vegas. All I am saying is if you want to win this match, which I’m sure you don’t care if you do or not, he is the guy you’re going to have to go through to do it. Sure, the guy sounds like some high school kid when he ‘debates’ with people of a slightly lower IQ than him….like Ravager….but he will drop you like a bad habit if you just give him that one open opportunity.

I could go on about your opponents but to be honest, you shouldn’t have to worry whether or not they spoke ill-will of you and what they will do to you (yes, more clichéd babble) in the match. Get your ass going and start training and preparing for this match. Because when it’s all said and done, win or lose, you will have to show, and not prove, what it takes to be not just a champion, not just a legend, not just a superstar….but a wrestler.

And with that, the only words I can leave you with is…

‘Nuff said.”

The dark figure, who apparently is now known to be Ulysis Solian rose his hooded head from the letter. He affixed his cold gaze straight ahead of him, still clutching onto the stack of stapled papers. Then, Solian crumbled up the papers and tossed them behind his back. He slowly rose to his feet and then began to stretch. As he started his training, the camera faded to black…

07-09-06, 02:34 PM
We are in Ravager's apartment.

So much I need to do to impress people. Either I talk to much, or I don't say enough. Or my psychology is flawed. Funny, considering all people here seem to be doing is insulting each other and inflating their egos, I thought I was doing just fine. I guess this "young buck" still has a lot to learn about being a jackass. Lucky I have some great people to watch and learn from.

Andrew Gilkison. You've gone on and on about how nothing I say or do impresses you. That's fine. You have no fear. You have an abundance of confidence. You have a lot of skill. Experience. But you have this annoying little quality that bugs me. It just eats away at me every time I think about it. You think that you're just going to brush me aside in our match. You've actually convinced yourself that I'm not a threat. Andrew. All the "Gilkieplexes" in the world aren't going to help you next week. You've looked past me, and you've looked past your other opponents. You have a world of pain awaiting you July 16th.

And now we finally hear from Ulysis Solian. Sort of. That letter presented a rather unflattering view of me. Let me set the record straight. The attack on the referee? The attack on Rex Caliber? Those are hardly the highlights of my career. They were a means to an end. I needed a career kick start, and it worked, cause look where I am now. Roll your eyes all you want, but don't overlook what I've accomplished.

I am a former NAPW Provincial champion. I won it in my very first match. The very first match NAPW ever.

I was the first man to have held both the Provincial and NAPW titles.

I brought Pure Honor Wrestling to NAPW. The short sighted pansies on the booking committee may have kicked me out of the division, but they can't deny who introduced it in the first place.

The first month of NAPW's existence, I wrestled on every show. And my only pinfall loss came from someone hitting me in the head with a chair.

And I was an invitee to the Tournament of Champions.

I'm sure that means very little to you boys. But here's the thing. I'm the rookie in this match. How much did you guys accomplish in the first seven months of your careers?

I'm used to being insulted. I'm used to being underestimated. And that's okay, because it makes my victories so much sweeter.

You may not like my tactics. You may not think much of what I say. But you can't argue with results. Take me lightly, and next Sunday night will be the longest night of you careers.

07-10-06, 02:16 AM
Wow. I am deeply flattered by Scott Riktor's letter. Proclaiming me to be the biggest threat in this match? Well, when the man is right, he is right. I am the biggest threat in this match, and July 16th is where I will prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt, by winning the match.

Is that my ego making me say these things? Maybe it is. Or maybe I am just confident in my abilities to beat ANYONE in this business. No matter how good they are, or what they accomplished in the past.

That brings me to you again, Ravager.

You want to think I am looking past you. Son, I don't know how else to ask this, but um... are you slow in the head? I said this match was going to come down to you and me. Out of all the people in this match, you will be the one to give me the toughest fight because it seems you are the one that want's it as bad as I do.

I mean... where is Danny Boy at? It's obvious he doesn't care whether or not he wins this match, because he would've said something about it by now. And Ulysis doesn't seem to have his head anywhere except up his ass at the moment. He is just now getting set to train for the match, for godsake. After a letter from someone not even in the match telling that he should!

Yeah. I can sure tell he will have his head in the game!

But you are showing signs that this match means something to you. That means you will bring the passion and the heart to give me a hell of a fight. But that doesn't mean you are going to win the match.

That is because I am going to win it.

Does my confidence eat away at you? Are you not getting enough respect from me? Awwwwww!! Poor baby!!

What did you expect me to do, Ravager? Verbally suck your cock as you bragged about how you had to beat up referees and resort to run-ins in order to pump life back into your slumping career?

Sorry, pal. But that stuff just wasn't going to get me singing your praises. I don't have respect for people who can't get their business done in the ring anymore and have to resort to chicken **** tactics and bulling around skinny referees in order to get people to talk about them again.

That kind of stuff is below me nowadays. I once fell into a slump, and I dealt with it the same way you did. But in the long run, it failed me. Only by recapturing what made me great in the first place was I able to break out of that slump.

You are talking about what you used to do in the ring. This is a "what have you done for me lately" business, Ravager. And being ranked number nine on the NAPW top ten probably is a good indicator that you haven't accomplished jack **** where it actually counts in a long, long time.

Past accomplishments are not going to beat me, Ravager. You have to be really ****ing great to beat me right now, because I am way better than I ever was during my first seven months in the business. Whereas your first seven months was clearly the peak of your career, I got bigger and better things in store for me in the future. That is because I am not a flash in the pan like you, Ravager. I am like fine wine. I just get better and better with age.

My Gilkieplexes are going to be more than enough to deal with the likes of you, Ravager. As is the Andybomb, or the Gilkmission. Either way, once I hit one of my finishers on you, it is lights out for you.

It's gonna happen, whether you want to believe it, or not.

07-10-06, 02:47 PM
Grande Prairie, Alberta. The day before NAPW's Tuesday Night Fights. Ravager is in a hotel room, as he is on yet another road trip for the up and coming promotion. There is a knock at the door.

Ravager: Who is it?

Voice: (muffled) It's Derek. I got the stuff you asked for. Let me in.

Ravager opens the door, slowly, but upon recognition let's Derek in.

Ravager: Took you long enough.

Derek: Never been here before. I got lost.

Ravager: It's not a big town. Now quit making excuses. Did you get what I needed?

Derek places a parcel on the table.

Derek: Is there any reason you needed me to get these things for you? There's nothing exotic or illegal here.

Ravager: True. But with my schedual the last few days, it was easier to have you pick things up for me.

Derek: Can I ask what you need this stuff for?

Ravager: A variety of projects. Some of this is going to be plunder for a hardcore match I have tomorrow night. There are a few things I'm using for a job I have to do later this week. And I figured, as long as you were shopping for me, why not get me some road maps for Boston. I'm going to be there next week.

Derek: Oh, right, that show you keep talking about...

Ravager glares. Pulls out some cash, and tosses it at Derek.

Ravager: Run along.

Derek: What, you can talk so much when you're alone with a camera in front of you.

Ravager: Match psychology and inane conversation are two different things. Well, except when dealing with Gilkison, it seems...

Derek: You still smarting over losing Tiffany?

Ravager: Irrelevant. Tiffany was my manager. Besides. I didn't lose her. I let her go. It was a sacrifice I made to better us both. The only thing I lost that ever affected me was the NAPW title. Having that title taken from me, when I wasn't even pinned, started the downward spiral I'm finally getting out of.

Derek: Was it worth it? I mean, the enemies you've made lately...

Ravager: (pointing at the door) Out.

Derek: I'm just saying, your career stalled when you were on your own. When you finally found someone to stand by your side, you became NAPW champ...

Ravager: For a month. Then nothing. For both our sakes I fired her. And I don't regret a thing. Sacrifices have to be made to get to the top. I'm going into foreign territory against three men who could care less about my past. Three men who want the same thing I do. To be the best in this business. I don't plan leaving the Fleet Center without a victory.

Derek: You're talking about sacrifice? Solian wrestles without an eye!

Ravager: Which was taken from him. I can't imagine his loss. I respect him for carrying on so admirably. But he made no sacrifice. I willingly gave things up that I cared about to become a better wrestler. Solian had his eye taken from him, and became better despite that. If given the chance, I'm sure he'd like his eye back. Me? I'm not losing sleep over anything I've given up.

Derek: Well. Good luck then.

Ravager: I'll be in touch.

Derek leaves. Ravager goes to his window and watches as storm clouds approach from the west.

Storm's coming boys. Ready to blast through and destroy everything in it's path. Hope you're prepared. Because nothing's going to be left standing once I'm through with you.

Fade to black.

07-10-06, 07:36 PM
The camera faded into an AV room with the lights off. What was illuminating the room was a television showing various videos and clips of Andrew Gilkison, Ravager, and Danny Boy Vegas in action and talking. The camera panned slowly to the right from the television and showed a navy blue couch, to which its color could only have been made out from the television’s luminance.

Shown sitting on this couch was a man who wore a hooded sweatshirt. Part of his face could slightly be made out from underneath the hood that covered it. He slowly took a sip from a tin cup that was in his hand as he carefully watched the television screen.

Just then, a knock was heard on the door and as it opened, the light from outside the room shone brightly on the individual relaxing comfortably on the couch. He was finally revealed to be none other than The Prodigal Son of Wrestling himself…Ulysis Solian. The person who had opened the door tossed a letter right into the lap of Solian.

? ”Letter for you, Ulysis. There’s no return address on it so I couldn’t start to tell you who it is. Well, I’ll leave you to your studies.”

The door to the AV room was still left open, which help provide enough light for Ulysis Solian to read the contents of said envelope. He ripped one end of the envelope and blew into it. Solian pulled a small stack of papers folded together and unfolded them. The Prodigal Son then began to read the letter that was sent by someone who apparently was an “admirer”…


What’s happening, Ulysis? I heard you were back to wrestling and started to check some of your stuff out in Legacy of Champions. Man, talk about a rut! Damn, when you finally got rid of that fool and that sad-looking mask, you sure hit rock bottom! Though the Grizzly Adams look works for you!

Sorry man. I didn’t mean to bust your chops or anything, it’s just that with what I have been hearing about Scott Riktor trying to get you to become…you know who again, it really grabs my goat. You’re the Prodigal Son of Wrestling baby! No man can touch you! I really wish you’d snap out of this funk you’re in. Also, you really need to open that damn mouth of yours and lay some truth to these people because quite honestly, the silence treatment you’re giving to fool just isn’t working.

So anyway, someone through the grapevine told me you were in some sort of match for some sort of super, mega, ultra, hyper, fantastic, stupendous, out-of-this-world wrestling event called TEAM and I said to myself, ‘Wow…what a group of depressing and sad individuals!’.

But of course I’m not talking about you, baby!

I was watching what’s happening with the match you’re in so far and I think it f***ing sucks how they just tossed you into a match with a bunch of nobodies! I mean seriously, it’s like they decided to run try-outs for new wrestlers at a high school! I’ve never seen you knee-deep in that much p***y since…okay, sorry again. I know you’re with Mystique and all, but hey man, when you’ve got it…flaunt it!

How about that Ravager fella? Man, that kid cracks me up! He seriously believes that him letting go of some two-bit whore is more of a sacrifice than you losing an eye, let alone a kidney and your sanity!

Okay, that was a low-blow, man. Sorry.

Anyhoo, this kid decides to go homo and suddenly he’s a martyr for all men everywhere! Running around and bragging that he’s done more in his first seven months of his wrestling career than everyone else. I mean, seriously, how f***ing pathetic is that!? ‘But I won teh NAPW World and Provincinal titles! I was an invitee to the Tournament of Champions! I sacrificed some poonani so I can be a better wrestler!’

Pfft! Simply pathetic. S**t man! When this kid can go around and claim holding five World Heavyweight Titles, eight titles in all, from various promotions like you did at one time, then he has a right to speak! Sounds like a bunch of those jackasses you left awhile back bragging about s**t like people are supposed to be impressed about.

Remember that Christian Sands dumbass? The one that kept running around screaming, ‘I went to a 60 minute-plus draw Jean Rabesque, the most boring Canadian in the world!’? I didn’t see your ass going around yelling, ‘I actually beat Jean Rabesque in under thirty minutes and didn’t even break a sweat! Did I mention I beat him cleanly!’ But of course, no one cared about you as….well, you know….and that fed, IWF. Sounds to me that not many care about you now.

Point is, you need to drop this Ravager fool like a bad habit. I mean, seriously; between beating up referees and waving the rainbow flag, where does this kid find the time to actually wrestle? Sure, he may have some skill; the kid was a former World Heavyweight champion. But let’s be really serious here: the kid couldn’t hold a Jesus candle to you even if he pulled the rosary out of his ass.

Oh and speaking of that missing eye of yours….did you get my number for that specialist? Cool.

So about this Andrew Glick…Gimp…Jizz…Gilkison….yeah that’s it….Gilkison. Talk about an idiot with issues not even he could understand. By the way, how’s the inside of your ass? Okay, okay…I’m just playing! Chill.

How f***ing cliché can one get! ‘I’m gonna win! I’m gonna be victorious! Look at me! I can rant on and on incoherently about how great I am and how you’re not!’ I wanted to choke on my own tongue to drown out the sound of his inane babble.

And what the hell is with people naming moves after themselves? Andybomb? Gilkieplex? Gilkmission? What is a Gilkmission anyway? Is that where he bear hugs you and talks your ear off about how f***ing great he is? Yeah, I’d tap out just so he’d stop yapping! I mean seriously! What idiot names wrestling moves after themselves…

Damnit! I did it again, didn’t I? Sorry man! But then again, why should I be sorry? You dropped that Suicide f**k a long time ago and it’s about time too! The guy was the laughing stock of the entire wrestling sport! No one respected him and sure as hell wouldn’t give him the time of day. But you, The Prodigal Son of Wrestling, will have your day once again and show these wannabe hacks in TEAM who the real future of wrestling is.

Future? You’ve only been the prime example of what wrestling is all about for some many years! But that’s the price of being overlooked and underestimated. You’re starting to show who the real force in wrestling truly is over at Legacy of Wrestling and I know they’re taking notice. Now that you’re going back to the area where Sui…actually you got your start, it’s time to have them regret ever disrespecting you. And they'll want you to save them...but you can't save them. Hell, you can't even save yourself!

No I will not apologize! You deserve it! Shave the beard, cut your damn hair, and grow some balls! Stop letting people walk all over your ass and be the sadistic, rutheless, relentless wrestler you have always been! And when you can be that man, the man you truly are, no one can touch you!

Go into that match at The Fleet Center and show them that the next time they run one of these little TEAM shows, that they don’t just toss you into some clusterf**k matches and give you someone of actual credibility. Because so far, with the way these kids are running their mouths and yet have nothing to show for it in terms of success in their wrestling careers…you really have nothing to worry about concerning this match.

Get the job done, take the trash out, and I’ll see your ass at No Turning Back.


After he read the letter, Ulysis Solian crumbled it up between his hands and tossed it to his side. With the video continuing to play, The Prodigal Son turned his attention back to business as the camera faded to black…

07-11-06, 03:25 PM
We see Ravager in his hotel room, typing feverishly on his laptop. He finally finishes what he's typing. He then gets up and goes to his phone.

Ravager: Hello?... Yes, that's right, room 217. ... No, nothing's the matter. I just wanted to know, does the hotel have a printer here? Would it be possible to email a file for you to print out for me? ... Great. Thank you.

Ravager writes down an email address. He then goes to his computer.

Cut to a few minutes later. Ravager returns to his room, with the document he just printed. A brief pause, then there is a knock at the door. Ravager opens it, and allows in NAPW interviewer, Josh Reynolds.

Josh: You asked to see me? This is new.

Ravager: I needed an impartial opinion. And you always seem to be hanging around, so I thought I'd put you to use for once.

Ravager hands him the paper.

Ravager: It's a letter I intend to send. I just wanted to hear it read aloud.

Josh: (confused) Okay.

Josh reads the letter.

Josh: Ulysis.

This seems to be the only way to communicate with you. How are you? Brooding away in a dark room studying your opponents? Yeah, I do a lot of that too. I guess people like us aren't adept at social niceties. But I'm kind of concerned. I mean, the people who write to you seem to know a lot about the men you are to face, yet you don't seem to react much to it. Are these scouting reports from friends? Enemies? Do you truly respect these opinions?

Because I'd really hate to dissappoint you. These people seem to think I'm some sort of loudmouth, back-stabbing clown. And that couldn't be further from the truth. Now, not everything I've done in my career has been honorable, but who can say they've had an examplary clean career? Maybe Ricky Steamboat, but none of us will be facing him any time soon.

I'm just worried Ulysis. Worried that you're going to write me off based on a few comments from people who have only caught brief glmpses of my matches. I see you're watching tapes, so that makes me feel a bit better. I'm sure you notice that size difference hasn't always been the advantage my opponent thought it would be. I hope you notice that, like everyone in this match claims, I too can wrestle in any style. I hope you notice how often I win. People talk about me being on a losing streak. Well for me, losing one match is a streak. I bounce back from anything, I am not at a loss when backed into a corner. In short Ulysis...

I am not the joke your "scouts" think I am. Please, do more research before you walk into Boston with a false sense of security. Gilkison seems to be a competant opponent, despite his mental deficiencies. Danny Boy Vegas. ... I hear he's big. Maybe he can wrestle? Who knows? All I can say is if you think you know all there is to know about me, you're in for a big surprise.



Josh stops reading.

Josh: It's ... business-like.

Ravager: I try to show a little class. Now be a good man and make sure it gets sent out with NAPW's mail bag.

Hands Josh an envelope, with an address written on it.

Josh: Do you think this will even get to him before the match happens?

Ravager: Probably not. But at least, after he's humiliated on Sunday, I can say I tried to warn him. If he wants to listen to the opinions of men who've never faced me, that's his own damn fault.

Josh shakes his head a little, but leaves the room. Ravager goes back to his laptop. He puts a DVD in, and watches a match of Gilkison from A1.

Fade to Black.

07-12-06, 06:05 PM
[Unida. You Wish. Coping With the Urban Coyote.] (http://www.sendspace.com/file/y2urdh)*

July 2nd

a smooth bassline. relaxing. wind whips through the hair. and then…

Danny Boy Vegas lifted his face upwards, adjusting his large sunglasses on his nose. He was a brawny man, dressed in a white leather jacket with tassels hanging down from the arms and blue jeans. His long hair was like a cloud of streamers dancing back from his scalp, the chestnut colored fuzz extending down the side of his face and coating his chin and above his lip. The red convertible streaked across the desert, a firey blur.

Anna glanced over at him. She was a tall, leggy blonde, just the way he liked 'em. She was a bit too fiesty for his taste, really, but she did a good job. He'd never thought a girl that good-looking girl like her might actually be smart; it was a bit of prejudice, he realized, but that didn't stop him from thinking it. A denim miniskirt and a black SIN Wrestling tanktop hugged her form lovingly. She was too good-looking for her native Canada. Danny smiled a bit.

"I need to piss," Anna said. Danny's smile was gone.


"I need to piss, Danny," Anna repeated. "Number one. Urination."

"That's enough!" Danny howled. He swerved a bit and got himself back on the road. "What in the godd**n is wrong with you, woman!?"

Anna snorted and folded her arms under breasts, perking up an eyebrow. It would have been cute if she hadn't just revealed her big bathroom secret. "I'm sorry for having a bladder, Danny Boy, but—"

"It's not that at all," Danny said. "Just say something like 'I need to go to the bathroom,' alright?"

"Okay," Anna said. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Danny nodded. "Thank yo—"

"To piss."


is gonna survive…
and her thing…
is always alive…
despite on the edge…
well, it'll make you cry…

"So turn in somewhere," Anna told him. "I'm not holding this in forever, Danny."

Danny groaned. "We're in the godd**n desert, Anna," he explained; he hadn't thought he'd need to, but apparently those beautiful eyes of hers had missed it.

"Turn in somewhere!" Anna cried.

"You can go squat in the desert," Danny offered.

"Shut up, Danny," Anna said. "Just shut the f**k up."

"Anna, there isn't anywhere to—"

"Turn into a godd**n gas station!"

Danny slammed his fist on the steering wheel. "WHERE!?" he bellowed. The car was going crazy over the road now. "TELL ME WHERE THE GODD**N GAS STATION IS!"

Anna blinked at him. She sniffed. "Find it."

It was a beautiful day out today. Not too humid. Blazing hot, but that just made driving faster an even more attractive option.


it's never ending…
and never surrendering…
it's never ending…
and never surrendering…

guitars now, but they just make it sound that much more dreamy.

July 3rd

the bass comes back. you invite it. it keeps you steady, keeps you whole. keeps you flowing on.

Danny stepped back and turned on his heel, leaping over the low partition onto the grass. It was dark out, but this guy didn't seem to mind. The parking lot of this bar was just a breeding ground for angry drunks and now Danny had a hotheaded one on his hands.

"Chill out, man," Danny cautioned as he rose to his feet again. The man was a hulking creature, 300 pounds of sweating drunkard, and he brought his hands up to try and hit Danny again. "Chill the—f**k!" Danny Boy managed to knock the punch aside and drive his knuckles into the man's ribs. The drunk man stumbled backwards, blinking. Danny looked up, seeing Anna standing off to the side, watching the altercation anxiously.

"Come on, woman!" he howled, bounding towards the convertible. "Run!" Anna glanced back at the reeling drunk man before quickly deciding to take Danny's advice, heading full-tilt towards the car. Danny reached the driver's side and leapt inside, adjusting himself quickly before slamming the key into the ignition. Anna slipped into her seat and slammed the door shut. Throwing the car into reverse wildly, he backed out and then squirreled out of the parking lot, leaving a shouting redneck in their wake.

They drove in silence through the city for a long while. Danny drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel to fill up the space. Irritation was putting what he was feeling right now mildly. Anna gripped her skirt and glanced over at Danny frequently. She knew it was coming. It would be here any minute now. She just had to wait for it. Danny always—

"GODDAMMIT!" he roared, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel. "What in God's name are you doing!?"

"Danny, don't yell at me," Anna snarled defensively. "I don't need your attitude."

"My attitude!?" Danny snapped. "My attitude? F**k you, you slut. What's the deal with you getting this guy on my case!?"

"I. Don't. Need. Your. Attitude, Danny."

Danny tilted his head upwards, exasperated.

"Goddammit, Anna, just shut your mouth. You're a godd**n idiot, do you know that?"

is gonna roll…
and her thing…
out of control…
and shame…
on the underdog…
and who's to blame…
about the other day…

Anna made a disgusted sound and turned away, looking out the side of the car. Danny shook his head. They drove for a bit before anyone spoke again.

"What did you tell that guy, anyway?" Danny asked.

"What guy?" Anna replied blandly.

"The f**kin'… you know!" Danny sighed. "JAAAWWWJUH Jerry. Whatever that big f**ker's name was."

"Oh, the fighter guy?"


Anna shrugged. "I told him I'd do 'im if he'd knock some teeth out of your mouth."

Danny glared at her. He almost hit a stop sign. "You shut your mouth when you're talking to me."

it's never ending…
and never surrendering…
it's never ending…
and never surrendering…

guitars blast on now. vocals give a deep howl to turn everything on.

July 4th. 9:00 AM

guitars fade. bass remains. smooth.

Anna tossed the eggs into the trash just as Danny stepped into the hotel room's kitchen. Danny watched the burnt husks with mouth agape. He brushed some hair out of his face, clenching his teeth.

"What is wrong with you?" Danny growled. Anna whirled around, eyes wide. "What… can you do nothing correctly besides tell people what to do?"

Anna planted her fists on her hips. "What the hell are you talking about, Danny?"

"Look at these muscles, girl," Danny said, flexing them for her as if she'd never seen them before; late nights, when the mood was right, she had obsessed over them. The mood hadn't been right for a few days, though, and the reason was four letters, beginning and ending with an A. "I am f**king ripped. I'm Danny Boy Vegas."

"Thanks for telling me," Anna quipped.

"I'm the greatest wrestler that has come into the scene in the last ten years," Danny said, continuing uninterrupted. Anna stared at him blankly, obviously bored with his rhetoric. "I'm the best big man to lace up the boots in more. I kick ass for a living, but I can still cook some f**king eggs, goddammit!"

Anna looked at him for a while longer. "And your point?"

Danny threw up his hands. "Shut up!"

is gonna survive…
and nothing…
always alive…
despite on the edge…
well it'll make you cry…
and who's to blame…
about the other day…

"So I'm not a good cook, Danny!" Anna cried. She set down the frying pan, starting after him; he had turned to walk away from this intellectual disaster area. "So what?"

"They're EGGS!" Danny shouted, walking to the couch. "Eggs, Anna. It's not brain surgery. It's not lobotomy."

"Brain surgery and lobotomy are the same thing, Danny."

"SHUT. UP." Danny threw himself down on the couch.

"You make the eggs, then," Anna said. "Make the damn eggs if you're gonna cry about it."

"Go hang yourself!" Danny howled at her, picking up the remote and launching it. She danced out of the way, keeping on the balls of her feet in case Danny decided to throw something else. "You've just failed the life expectancy test!"

"The life expectancy test?" Anna asked, raising her eyebrows. "What the f**k are you talk—"

"It's one simple question, Anna," Danny said. "'How do you fry some godd**n eggs!?'"

Anna snarled at him. "Your breakfast is in the trash, Danny."

"F**k you, Anna. F**k you very much."

it's never ending…
and never surrendering…
it's never ending…
and never surrendering…

guitars paint a dreamscape. swim in the pool of ethereality. lose your mind in it. watch it drift away. you don't care at all.

July 4th. 9:00 PM

Fireworks. It's Independence Day, of course, so the fireworks were lighting up the sky. Crackling bursts painted the midnight blue backdrop any number of fluorescent pinks, blues, yellows, greens, and reds. There was a faint cheering somewhere down below. Danny was up on the balcony of his hotel, shirtless and lounging in a chair. He had a beer in hand.

Anna was sitting on his lap with a beer in hand as well, cheek nestled against his shoulder, their bodies pressed together. Danny brought a hand up, combing his fingers through her hair. She opened her eyes, glancing out at the fireworks. She looked back up at him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Danny said.

her end…
something new…
and nothing…
all but you…
and the life you want to live…
and the life you want to live…

"I love you."

Anna blinked at him. He arched an eyebrow at her.


"I said it, Anna, and I'm probably not going to say it again."

Anna's face split in a broad, flustered grin. "Goddammit, Danny," she breathed, incredulous. "God-f**king-dammit."

Danny smiled at her.

it's all right…
it's all right…
it's all right…
it's all right…

guitars blast in. everything is heavy. jolts you back to consciousness just enough so that you can see again before dragging you back in. vocals control the ride.

July 12th

"I have kept you glorified gay oil pornstars waiting for a reason," Danny Boy growled. He shifted a sparkling belt on his shoulders and adjusted his huge sunglasses. He was standing outside on a rooftop. It was a sunny day, light blue sky behind him, not a cloud up in the heavens. Dressed all in white like he was, Danny looked like a godd**n angel. An angel of wrestling. Now ain't that the balls.

"The reason is pretty simple," he continued. He smirked. "Because I could. Because I knew that while I didn't talk, you'd be waiting on me. While I kept quiet, you'd speculate. You'd argue amongst yourselves. You'd get the marks, the interviewers, the hardcore fans to ask questions. I knew that Danny Boy would keep the forums abuzz, the magazines with stories, the tabloid pages full. And I knew that when I finally did speak, it would blow everything all to hell."

Danny started to pace back and forth, hiking the belt back up over his shoulder. "I signed up for this TEAM Super Show because of what it was. They said it was super. They said that I could make a name for myself, a real big name, I could get the the Word of Danny out to all the people who haven't heard of SIN Wrestling. They said that it'd be a good chance for me to unleash the potential. So I said 'Alright, man, I'll sign on the dotted line.' I said 'Book me in a match.' I signed up for this voluntarily, but you know what? I had no idea what I was getting into."

Danny stopped, rubbing his jaw. He turned and faced the camera. "When I had a look at the card, I said 'S**t, Ravager? Andrew Gilkinson? Ulysis Solian? This is not good.'" Danny paused.

"Three motherf**king nobodies that I have to contend with. Three motherf**king nobodies that no one cares about, that no one has ever cared about, that won't get me back on the horse in any way, shape, or form. Not good at all."

Danny snarled. "See, getting a win over these idiots is not enough here. They've given me a challenge. Not only did they not have the presence of mind to book me in the main event, but they book me in a four-way against three guys who have no idea what it means to wrestle. They gave me a challenge because for me to make my name here, I have to decimate these guys. I have to rip them limb from limb and throw their bones to the dogs. I have to win in such a fashion that there will be no question on who owned the ring that night."

"These guys are great at s**t-talking, but s**t-talking never won you matches. These guys are great at the prelude, but when it comes to the real deal, they are gonna fail. They have spent this whole time s**t-talking. I have spent none of it s**t-talking. I come here now not to talk about my opponents. This match is not about my opponents. This match is about me and nobody but."

Danny lifted the belt off his shoulder so the camera can catch it better. "See, this belt was the last belt that SIN Wrestling ever gave out: the Lust championship. And I won it, one-night tournament style, on the last pay-per-view that SIN Wrestling ever held. I beat a bunch of guys that you've probably never heard of, primarily because you're all stuck down in Bumf**kville, USA, home of the talentless. This belt signifies what Danny Boy Vegas has accomplished and will continue to accomplish."

Danny settled the belt back on its shoulder-perch. "I have dealt with a lot of f**kwits in the past, but it's alright. I have dealt with a lot of idiots, but it's alright. I've a dealt with a lot of no-talent, low-rent, half-assed bastards who couldn't tell you Wichita from Worchester, but it's alright. 'Cause you know, when I roll, I roll. When I say it's time to go, it's time to go, and nothing survives me. You will find yourself flat on your back, looking up at the ceiling and wondering why you thought you could go toe-to-toe with Danny Boy. The cycle is never ending and, no matter how much Danny Boy fights it, it's never surrendering; stupidity will always be around and I will always have to put it down. But as long as I come out on top, I don't care in the least."

Danny shook his head. "I am the Ace of Spades, the High Roller, the World Controller, the Alpha, the Omega, the Sony and the Sega, the beginning, end, middle, and all six sequels, the pre and postludes, the Las Vegas Sensation, the One Danny Nation, and you—all three of you—are just jackasses who managed to lace up their boots and stumble your way into the ring. You have no chance in hell.

"You are imitators of greatness. You surround yourself with what you haven't earned, with what you could never earn. You have no ability, so you get what you can, you try and drive down the stock price so that you can buy in. You try to be famous, but you can't. You try to be great, but you fall short.

"When it comes right down to it, I am living the life you want to live. And it's quite alright."

Danny's smirk becomes the last image.

instruments meld together to make a ship. launch us across those oceans of dreams. the ship rises out of the water…




* - Click to download the song.

07-12-06, 08:13 PM
The camera faded in to the inside of RingRats Academy in Orlando, Florida, over by the training gym. Several young men and women were shown lifting weights and stretching their bodies; preparing themselves for today’s lessons. The young students of wrestling were talking amongst themselves as they sometimes shifted their eyes toward something in the oft-corner of the gym.

As more and more students started to slow down their training and paid more attention to the going-ons of that one little corner of the gym, the camera shifted its attention toward that same spot. Shown in the corner were two men; one stood against a wall with their arms folded across their chest, the other was jump roping with his back away from the first man.

The man who stood in the corner was a short, Hispanic man dressed in an Armani suit and Ray-Ban sunglasses on his face. To those who were familiar with the World Wrestling League (WWL) and National Wrestling League (NWL), he was known as Emanuel Gonzago. An announcer for both the WWL & NWL, as well as a former wrestler himself, he stared intently at the other man who continued to jump rope. Then, out of nowhere, the silence was broken.

Gonzago: “Escuche, Ulysis…I know this was a sudden surprise visit from me…but Scott called me last week about you and your troubles…”

Upon saying his name, the man who was jumping rope at a feverous pace was The Prodigal Son of Wrestling, the man formally known as Suicide himself…Ulysis Solian. He continued with his exercise while Gonzago, who happened to be his uncle, continued with his one-sided conversation.

Gonzago: ”…and he thought maybe if I were to talk to you that maybe you’d finally open up and get what it is off your chest. I know Celeste has left you and the only one you’ve been in contact with as of late has been Scott, but you have to get your mind focused on what lies ahead. For a man who has just come back eight months after being laid out from a car accident about two years prior to that…you’re taking too much to handle.

You’ve got Legacy of Champions, which I’m hearing they want you gone, and now you’ve got this TEAM event that apparently…you’re training for. Nevertheless, sobrino, maybe you should let these people know at TEAM that you’re in over your head and that you want out. Then, we can go into LoC offices and talk to Black Tom Williams about letting you out of your contract…”

Upon saying “contract”, Ulysis Solian let out a soft chuckle to himself. Emanuel Gonzago was certainly not amused.

Gonzago: ”Fine, take it as a joke, but I am tell you Ulysis, if you continue the way you are headed, you are only setting yourself up to fail. Anyway, when I came in here, Scott gave me a couple of letters addressed to you. Apparently you’ve got a few admirers from what I have heard.”

Emanuel Gonzago took out one envelope, which looked to be as if was already opened.

Gonzago: ”It seems this first one was from one of your opponents…Ravager. Want me to read it to you?”

Ulysis Solian did not respond.

Gonzago: ”Okay, I guess I’ll take that as a yes….oh mi Dios….”


Five minutes had passed to the point after Emanuel Gonzago had finished reading the letter. Ulysis Solian was still jumping away with that rope he had in his possession.

Gonzago: ”Well, at least the kid was…cordial. Kind of weird the envelope was already opened…no, I don’t believe Scott opened your mail. Anyway, on to the second letter you received today…”

Emanuel pulled the envelope out from inside his Armani jacket and opened it. He unfolded the papers that were inside the envelope and gazed upon it.

Gonzago: ”From what Scott has told me, it seems this is the third time you’ve received a letter from some unknown individual. ¿Usted listo? Bueno…

‘Dear Ulysis,

It seems the time is almost upon you. No, not just this TEAM event you RSVPed but also for you to finally resolve a few things that have been troubling you these past few years.

I hope you do realize that this is not going to be easy. Then again, you have never had it easy and I do apologize for that. But it doesn’t help matters when many in this world perceive you as a nobody; someone who isn’t worth noticing. But you know as well as I do that it’s never going to change. You must remain diligent in your quest to follow your destiny. And right now, your destiny is to find yourself. The only way you are going to do that, however, is to conquer the demons that are contained within you. Maybe it is time you let those demons out and expend them until you have made peace with yourself.

I am hoping this match will do just that, but not even I can predict the future. Unfortunately, it seems, in this match that the TEAM officials set you up to fail in, you are facing three Amazing Kreskins. They each have predicted victory and how easy it will be to walk all over a nobody like yourself. Though they fight amongst yourselves, you have remained level-headed throughout this whole process and for that I am grateful.'

You know, sobrino, this is starting to sound a bit too strange for me. Do you want me to continue?”

Of course, Emanuel Gonzago was not to receive any response from his nephew as Ulysis Solian continued on with jumping rope. Gonzago had let out a sigh of frustration but looked as if he was going to continue on reading the cryptic letter.

Gonzago: “Alright…

‘But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t silence these “critics” if you will. Don’t try to go into this match and prove your worth because you have nothing to prove; you’ve already shown what you are capable of inside the ring. Your three opponents seem to want to prove so desperately why they are better than you and instead come off as a bunch of unlearned, juvenile delinquents.

If I may be permitted to do so, for instance, let’s take one Danny Boy Vegas. Apparently this young man’s balls are bigger than his brains and unfortunately for him, that can only get him so far in life, let alone in wrestling. I would talk about what he is representing, SIN Wrestling to be exact, but the place has been defunct since February, so it is not worth mentioning. He believes you are a nobody because he has no knowledge of you whatsoever. It is to be expected considering the fact that none of you, in any shape, way or form, in this match has had the pleasure of running around in the same circles of this sport. But, it’s kind of hard to take someone like one Danny Boy Vegas serious when all he is good at is running his mouth. But don’t let that deter you away from taking him seriously.

The same can be said about the other two opponents; that they both run their mouths without any consideration or respect for their opponents but are a threat to you in this match.

Ravager, whom I’m sure has done something elementary, but considerate, as in sending you a letter. He belittles you while boasting about accolades that have no bearing on a match such as this. Ravager does this, however, because he fears you. He fears the unknown. He fears something he can not grasp. And when someone does not understand…they scoff and dismiss it and then they are forced to live in denial. That is what Ravager has done; he has denied you…continuously. He is so blind to the lie and that is why you must open his eyes. Ravager will soon learn that the little NAPW bubble he has lived in for all of his career is about to burst.

Last, but not least in any sense of the word, we have one Andrew Gilkison who is probably the favorite to win this match. Again, this is an issue of known and unknown because Gilkison is a known threat in wrestling. He has faced some of the best and that makes him lethal. Unfortunately for Mr. Gilkison, claiming to be dangerous and being dangerous are on two different planes of existence. Throwing a barrage of threats of bodily harm at both yourself and the others in this match has him feeling confident in his victory. I am sure he will continue to berate you and look down upon you, no matter how true or untrue, in this case untrue, his words may be.

Do not do the same.

You are better than that. You are disciplined and groomed for this sport. You know how to respect your opponents and show that you have what it takes to be a success, even if they don’t think you are.’”

Emanuel Gonzago paused for a brief moment as Ulysis Solian finally stopped jumping rope. He turned around and stared at his uncle intently from underneath his hood. As Ulysis dropped the rope from his hands, he silently walked away from Emanuel. Gonzago continued to look at Solian until he had left the RingRats Academy. Then, Emanuel continued reading the rest of the letter…

Gonzago: ”’Before I end this, I want to leave you this; please take care of yourself in this match….actually, not just this match….but with everything you do in your life. No one wants to see you win this match and maybe that will be the driving force to help you win. But if you do want to win, please do it for yourself and not because you believe it will make amends with your past. Only by wrestling for you shall the healing begin. If you force it, you are doomed to fail.

Danny Boy Vegas….Ravager….Andrew Gilkison….they do not know what it is like to completely fail and it is why when they do ultimately fail….they will not be prepared for it. They aren’t prepared for you and what they are to face in Boston. But you have trained hard and diligently to make sure that when you lose, it is because the better man has won. These men are already talking about taking shortcuts and what is necessary to defeat you. Make sure you’re one step ahead of them like you always are. I just hope this will be the right step in the direction to help make amends with yourself. You know I am always there with you. Listen to no one; let no one persuade you. You are your own worst enemy….but you are your own greatest ally. Good luck, Ulysis…


Ulysis Solian ’...”

Emanuel Gonzago had a stunned look on his face as he moved his eyes from off the letter and to the exit door of the RingRats Academy.

Gonzago: ”Mi Dios….I hope you find yourself soon, sobrino, because I think you’ve all but lost it…”

And with that, the camera faded to black…

07-12-06, 09:05 PM
Ravager in his car. He is focused on his driving, but not enough to stop him from talking.

At last Danny Boy. You finally show up!

And the suspense was hardly worth it. Granted, the riveting "Will Anna get to a bathroom in time?" saga nearly made up for your pedestrian ranting near the end of your little "video". But alas, it didn't make me care. You're big? Well, good for you. The Alpha and Omega? You're not the first wrestler I've faced to call himself that. And you won't be the first wrestler I beat who called himself that.

Why did you really wait until now to start talking **** Danny? Did you think you would rest on your laurels? Are you that unimpressed with all of us? Or did you suddenly realize, Hey, these guys are going to steal the show Sunday night. I better do something, or people are just going to look at me and say " Why is the ring crew guy in there with the real wrestlers?"

You see Danny, I haven't been talking all week because I like the sound of my own voice. ... Well, that's not the only reason. You see, I want to make an impression. So does Gilkison. So does Solian. People who make impressions get title shots. Bigger cuts of the gate. Main event matches at Pay Per Views. Noteriety. Check that, well deserved noteriety. Eventually, they become legends. I liked the thought of that. Which is why I made my presence felt. Gilkison responded with his pathetic yapping, Solian read some letters. What did you do? You try to sweep in and steal the show from under us. And I can tell you now, that **** ain't happening. I was ready to carry your ass through the match this Sunday. But now I'm going to pound it instead. I'm sure you're going to be big in this industry. But it won't be at my expence.

Solian. I know failure. Sadly, I've known it well. And I hate it. In fact, I despise it. There is only one way I can prepare for failure. And that's to succeed at all costs. Your letter writing campaign hasn't prepared you in the least for the devastation I can dish out. I don't know you Solian. And I don't fear the unknown. I've never been in the ring with you. And I can't truly respect an opponent I've never fought. I only have mercy for people I respect. So prepare for a world of hurt Sunday.

And Gilkison. (chuckles) Oh Andrew. I got under your skin so early. And then you tried to get under mine. Nice try. Better luck with a different opponent, becuase you'll have no luck with me.

I said it before, and I'll say it again. This Sunday. Ulysis. Danny Boy. Gilkison. Elimination. Is. Inevitable.

Ravager smirks.

Nothing personal. Just business.

We cut to a shot of Ravager's car heading down the highway.

Fade to Black.

07-12-06, 09:39 PM
So Danny Boy Vegas finally graces us with his presence. Wow. Lucky us.

First off, you might want to keep your personal life away from the cameras, so the viewers at home will be spared the absolute boredom that is you and your girlfriend.

Seriously man, it was very difficult for me to keep myself from changing the channel because your little road trip was going on and on and it seemed like it was never going to ****ing end. I almost missed your promo because you already bored the **** out of me with that needless and irrelevant candid moment you unleashed upon us.

So maybe you should just get to the point faster next time, alright. And besides, do you really think it is such a good idea to show everyone what a stupid ass piece of trailer park trash you are? Do you really want the public to get that impression of you? Do you actually want that image out there for everyone to see? It is just something for you to think about before you decide to put that cure for insomnia that is your life in front of a television camera ever again.

But what the hell anyways, it’s not like your actual promo was anymore interesting.

Let’s see. You think I am a complete and utter nobody. Well of course you do. You have never watched A1E before, and that likely means you have never watched a single match of MBE either. In short, you are completely ignorant of what I bring to the table inside that ring.

But don’t worry, Danny. I am going to show you exactly what it is I am made of. And then you will kick yourself for your own stupidity when this “nobody” hands you an ass whooping the likes you have never seen before. You will pay for making the mistake of coming into a match with Andrew Gilkison underestimating him because you didn’t even do any research whatsoever on your opponent.

The same will be true of Ulysis as well, should he listen to the advice of people just as ignorant as you are about me and my abilities and my past successes.

In a short seven year career, I have won many championships and have had classic matches against some of the best in the business, both in two separate federations. If that isn’t enough for any of you to take me serious as a threat, I don’t really care. The way I see it... your stupidity is my gain

I didn’t come here to get into a pissing contest over who is successful and who is not. I really don’t give a flying **** what any of you accomplished in your respective federations, because past successes won’t get the job done in the squared circle anymore than running your mouth will.

So Danny, how about you spare me another round of your million different catchphrases, because you and your Lust Championship and your trashy whore don’t mean **** to me.

As for you Ulysis, I’d suggest using E-Mail to keep in contact with your friends who have more to say about the match you are involved in than you actually got to say about it. Honestly, man, it’s 2006. Modern technology is faster than just putting a piece of paper in an envelope and shoving it into a mail box. You really should try to get with the times we are living in now. You will thank me later, trust me.

And Ravager, it’s nice to see you’ve given up trying to talk trash to me directly. We both know you had nothing intelligent to say to me, so it’s good that you dropped that notion. Just keep watching those DVDs of my matches on them. Get all the research in that you can. Do whatever makes you believe you can beat me. At least you got more knowledge about me than either of these two other fools we are facing.

But it won’t change the fact that I am going to win this match. As soon as we get rid of the riffraff, it will come down to you and me, and then you will find out that watching me on your laptop is nothing compared to being in the ring against me.

When you are looking up at the lights, you will know just how good I am. Bottom line.