View Full Version : MEMPHIS: Tony "The Grin" Gamble vs. Prince Darko

02-12-07, 08:32 AM
PRIME's Jewel in the Crown gets down with one half of NAPW's Royal Foundation.

First round matchup to be held at the Anderson Arena in Bowling Green, OH on Bowling Green State U's campus. No RP limit, RP deadline is Sunday, February 18th at 11:59:59 PM (give or take a second).

02-13-07, 01:22 AM
I'm Fighting Eddie Murphy?

With his eyes closed, the electricity coursing through the neon sign outside of his window humming in his ears, He sits at the edge of the hotel room bed. His hands are resting on his thighs, the coarse fabric of his denim jeans tickle his fingertips as he slowly shifts them back and forth. The bed is still neat, it's tan velour comforter folded nice and neat over the two over stuffed pillows covered in white linen cases, only a few wrinkles crease it where he is sitting. The television is directly across from him and his cell phone is laid out on the small wooden nightstand to the left of the bed. To say that the room feels a little empty would be an understatement, barren would be a better term.

It looks as if he is in a good mood, the way the smile on his face never falters, but it is far from the truth. For the uninformed, you will never see this man without a smile on his face – it's his curse. He was the victim of an in-ring accident if you read his biography, but how much of that story is true has yet to be proven.

Tony Gamble: I guess introductions would be in order.

His hand moves from his thigh and reaches for a remote control that is at his side. He opens his eyes long enough to press the play button, before blinking a few times to adjust to the new light illuminating the once dimly lit abode.

Footage from PRIME's King of Kings begins to play, but not just any footage... It's Angelo Deville's hand slapping against the mat for the third and final time as the referee declares that the match is over.



Clicking the "Pause" button, the video on the screen freezes on the image of Angelo Deville out cold after enduring close to six minutes in Tony Gamble's “Smile for Me” submission finisher. The camera pans back to Gamble, smiling wider than ever.

Tony Gamble: I'll admit, that is more to quench my uncontrollable ego more than anything else. I don't expect you to know who I am, know who my opponent Angelo Deville is, or even acknowledge you know what PRIME is. I honestly don't expect you to be able to see anything that far above you.

Pausing for a moment, his attention turns toward the camera. He leans forward in his chair and clasps his hands together. Resting his chin on his hands, he silently arches an eyebrow slightly while drawing a slow, steady breath into his lungs.

Tony Gamble: I guess you could look at that as me being a bit egotistical, that maybe I'm blinded by my own success, and for the most part you'd be right. I am a bit full of myself.

Breathing out, he settles back in the chair but never breaks eye contact with the camera.

Tony Gamble: But let me be honest when I tell you that I believe every word that I have said. I know all about that Indy promotion out in Alberta you call home, and I know all about that little paperweight title you carry around. I've seen you in the ring, and I'm sorry to say it... but I'm not impressed. I've seen better moves from kids in their backyards on YouTube, but I guess being a Prince from Zamunda you can get away with that kind of crap.

He grits his teeth and shrugs his shoulder. His eyes narrow to sinister slits, ablaze with determination on his face.

Tony Gamble: In my neck of the woods – where only the best of the best come to play – you wouldn't be fit to set up our damn ring; much less stain our mat with your blood. And that's not me being an arrogant prick, that's just the honest truth from someone who has been around this business and has been in that ring with some of the best it has to offer. I'm sure you'll come in here with your chest puffed out, your title draped over your shoulder, and tell me how you've never heard of me. That you'll no-sell everything I've said and pretend New Alberta Pro is one of the top feds ever, but I'll know the truth. The whole World will know the truth, and we'll all sit back, point, and laugh.

He exhales slowly for added drama.

Tony Gamble: Now I'll understand if you come out and tell me that I'm full of ****, that I have no earthly idea what I'm talking about, and that I'm the one who is gong to walk out of the ring a loser. I understand that, because I know you won't let me walk out of this thing without a fight. No one wants to get punked in front of the World, and that's what I've been doing since I first opened my mouth. I've treated you like a nobody, disrespected NAPW, and practically taken a crap on your Television title, eh? So why wouldn't you stand up for yourself... I expect it. I just don't expect my attitude to change. I don't expect you to make me think any more of you, and I don't think you'll ever make me consider you a threat.

Leaning forward in the chair once again, he smirks. His intensity, however, remains unmistakable.

Tony Gamble: I'm already looking past you, Prince. I can sit here and tell you that without worrying about it coming back and biting me in the ass. I'm not worried about it somehow making you madder than the Hulk and vowing to turn green and make me pay for ignoring you. I know you don't have what it takes to beat me, but I'll be sure to humor for the next few days as you fail miserably to convince me otherwise.

Standing and moving in front of the television, he gazes at the still image of Deville out cold on the mat as it flickers back at him. He continues speaking, even though his gaze doesn't meet the camera.

Tony Gamble: Greater men than you have fallen at my feet, Prince. They've laid there on the mat and given up with a smile on their face.

His attention returns to the camera, that sick, sadistic smirk forever present.

Tony Gamble: Will you smile for me too?

Prince Darko
02-13-07, 09:56 PM
The scene opens up with a close up of the left side of the Prince’s face on the right side of the screen.

His eyes open.


Prince Darko: Funny, I laugh at you and your erroneous ways. You’re a ***** turned wrestler. You went your whole life being that frail little boy. You went your life being a smart ass with no spine. Face it, you were a *****.

Now you step in the ring win two belts. Now you’re filled with this sort of encouragement to face the world. But, really, an internet championship. There is no honor in that. That’s like being the break dancing champ and your competition is a group of paraplegics. Now the five star championship. That’s being held by a girl. She must have one serious testosterone imbalance. Or you and everyone that has some type of affiliation with that belt are *****es. Now don’t get me wrong, I have no clue who you lost that “title” to. If it wasn’t her, then that means the person that took it off your hands lost to her, or he lost to another guy. However the chain works. It finishes with her as champ. That means your competition is nothing short of pathetic.

Seriously, you go to sleep thinking your life means something. You were worthless then still are now. You go to a fed with a bunch of feeble bodied wrestlers and now you’re something heroic. You go to a fed and your competition takes damage like an egg shell and now you’re something heroic.

Thing is, the ***** you were then had more honor. That *****, he knew the people around him were all tough, he knew there was no way he would win, but he would pull through.
But, the ***** you turned into now, is a coward with great false sense of security.


You went to prime because you knew, everyone around you would be soft and they wouldn’t be as tough as the kids from school. You deep down inside knew moving to prime would be the best move of your life, because that’s how you love your life. You want it easy. With prime nothing hard about them. A group of paraplegics, bunch of egg shells. You knew what would had happened if you went somewhere…


Somewhere like NAPW.

You talk about NAPW with such negativity, but you and I know. You dream to wrestle for them. But, unlike Prime, NAPW is real competition. It’s real wrestling. Regardless who you are, we all have heard, determination and work for it all. No short cuts.

If I went to prime, I would be a one man army. A one man coups d’etat. A one man revolution. I would walk in and people would drop to my feet, people would cry, because they are in my presence. People would hand themselves over to me.

You come to NAPW and try that. You’ll get publicly humbled.

And you want to talk about wrestling skills. For self proclaimed genius you happen to be to left of the bell curve. I can break my arms, neck, toes, knees, back. Hell, I can have a full body cast and I’ll still out do your whole career. Do you see this.

Camera moves down.
Grabs crotch

Ten folds of what you can do at your prime. My urine comes with talent. My fecelie matter has talent.

Tilts head down.
Messes with mask.
Lips are exposed.
Spits on the floor

Bam, your whole career and then some. I can snort four bricks of crack, devour six bricks of weed, take seven pints of liquid acid then drink four kegs of boom shine. Just before my body OD’s I leave the world with more wrestling skills than you ever had or ever dreamt.

So continue dreaming, nothing wrong with it. But once you begin to perceive it as a reality. That’s when it becomes a problem.


02-14-07, 02:13 AM
Bored Already.

Three words could best describe the inside of an airport terminal when you're already running late: hell on earth. You have idiots mulling around like cattle as you try your best to bob and weave your way through the herd without tipping one of them over onto their backs. Lines upon lines of people with their baggage lying messily around their feet, just waiting for you to stumble upon them and fall flat on your face. You have worthless wastes of time standing behind desks taking tickets or renting cars, despising the fact that you may have a better life than they do; and most of the time it is the truth, so they give you the run around just to humor themselves before they go back to their boring uneventful lives.

It is all just one huge clusterfeck that no one can ever escape unscathed.

Tony Gamble is just glad to be past all of that, as he boards his flight and settles into a not-so-comfortable seat. Watching all of the other passengers struggle to get their carry-ons shoved into the tiny overhead bins makes him tired, but the last thing on his mind right now is sleep. It won't be too long before he's walking into Culture Shock to face off against Nova for the PRIME Universal Championship.

And that, people, is as good as it gets.

Thoughts of just what he intended to do to the champion once the two of them were standing across from each other with the biggest prize in PRIME on the line begin to race through his mind. One of the thoughts stopped short, turned around and looked back at something crouched down in a fetal position with his thumb in his mouth.

It was Prince Darko.

It is as if a light goes off in his head, as he remembers that he also has a match coming up against some pathetic reject from an Indy fed up in Canada. Of course, he forgot the name of the place. But does it really matter, of course not. So let's just move on as an old lady walks up to our permanently felicitous guest of honor for the evening.

Yes, I said felicitous. Stop staring at a Yori Yakamo, Jr. promo and go do a search, jackass.

She stares down at the ticket in her hand, then over at the man with piercing eyes that just seems to be undressing her with his stare. With his finely pressed suit, the black thin tie with a small diamond pendant the size of a dime, and slick backed hair; Tony looks like he just stepped out of an episode of the Sopranos. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, but when he turned to smile at her and she saw the jagged scar running from the end of his lip up to about his ear... She damn near had a coronary.

It didn't take the woman long to stand up and find a flight attendant to help her find another seat. The whole thing just made Tony's grin double in size as he let out a small chuckle. He couldn't wait to hear what everyone will say about the little incident if they hear about it. Probably something stupid, but that's PRIME grade 'A' material in some necks of the woods.

Too bad it's pathetic and outdated.

Tony Gamble: Wow, Prince, I really wasn't expecting that.

Speaking of pathetic.

Tony Gamble: I mean, you actually went out and did research on me. I'm at a loss of words. Though, that may be because you actually have no clue what you're up against. You think checking what titles I've won and lost is going to tell you something about me? Hell, you looked at my bio page from the PRIME website and you think you know who I am... Research, kid, is watching tape of your opponent in the ring, looking for weaknesses and moments where you can sneak in and get the upper hand.

He waves his hand to dismiss the misguided fool, hoping that the Prince would realize he's dealing with the King of F'n! Kings.

Tony Gamble: I expected you to get fired up, to try and break down my insults of you word for truth-filled word. Instead, I got the same rehashed crap you have probably been rehearsing for weeks in front of the mirror. I bet it took you days to figure out how to grab your crotch without getting an erection, considering that's probably the only attention it has received since you left your kingdom of Zamunda. I mean damn, I've seen the movie. The Prince gets a blow job while he bathes in the morning, his pick of the best elephant to ride around the castle, and not to mention all the girls. Your brother must have been a fool to want to go to Queens to find a bride, but then what does that make you for leaving to wrestle in some hole in the wall that people wouldn't know from a urinal.

To say that Tony was not pleased with the Prince's... can you really call that crap a promotional piece? I guess you can't really call it crap, can you. Moving on.

Tony Gamble: I'm sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't stoop down to the puss-filled corns of your level and resort to second grade humor, but I had to try and put it into terms I was sure you'd understand. So forgive me fans of TEAM sponsored events, but sometimes you just have to squat down and talk to children at their level for them to understand they are not ready to play with the big boys.

Yes, Prince, in case you need it spelled out... he's talking about you.

Tony Gamble: I'll admit that I had heard about NAPW before, but I really didn't pay much attention to it before I found out I was scheduled to face you, but then again... I don't look down at my shoes when I step in crap, but I still know it's there. >=)

Damn, that's twice I've brought up silly little potty jokes. BUT HE STARTED IT! And yes, he said >=)

Tony Gamble: You know, Prince, it's sad to sit here and realize that I was kidding myself to think I could get you mad, that I could piss you off and make you step up your game. I should have known better. I should have gone with my gut and just said that I was sorry. But look on the bright side kid, at least you get to go back and home and be around talent more your style... more your speed.

He taps his finger against his head, then pulls it away in a makeshift salute.

Tony Gamble: Nice knowing ya, kid. Better luck next year.

Prince Darko
02-14-07, 08:31 PM
OOCNOTE: "I bet it took you days to figure out how to grab your crotch without getting an erection" Hilarious

As the hand of the lesser length makes his way to the dozen. The longer simultaneously makes it to the half dozen.

These two reactions devise an unforgiving screech.

The Prince obviously alarmed jumps out of instinct. Removing the extraordinarily large white comforter. Coming to rational ends the nuisance and sits to the end of the bed.

Prince Darko Damn, it’s that time again. I enjoyed that slumber. See when I sleep, I use it for meditation. I use it to place myself in a mindset. Focus.

Now, you can come on the screen, get on the airplane, look at the old lady. But you and I both know, we’ll meet in that ring it will be fight. Fight is too sugar coated for this. War, won’t even be blunt enough. It’ll be Darko vs. Gamble. We’ll go down in books as the most vicious, the most brutal, the most graphical bout to ever happen.

You can try to act as if I’m not on your mind, but, you know I’m there. I’ll always be there. I may not have been in your mind prior to this event. Same on this side. But we’ve been in both of our minds. Lurking, disturbing our thought process.

I’ll admit, I have no problem admitting. You’re not the best. Nowhere near, you’re not me. But, you’re good. I took your advice, I watched your matches, but I did more then just watched, I studied. I also did more than just study, I looked into it. That was when I saw just you in a lonely ring surrounded by darkness.

I then saw into you. I saw that little boy that used to be the *****. But, he was happy. He knew the world wouldn’t see him as long as you continued to be in that ring. The ring, wrestling, it brought you respect. You were successful in matches. Because you never faced me.

That little ***** in you was happy, he knew as long as you stayed in PRIME and avoided NAPW competition. You would continue to gain that respect, because PRIME, was just a group of paraplegics, they can’t harm you that bad. So even if you did lose, it wasn’t a great loss. You would still seem heroic.

You can talk as much as you want. Speak about how NAPW is a joke as much as you want. But when we meet in the ring. I won’t be like the other pushovers in the PRIME locker room.

If I do I lose. I hope I lose to a man. Not to a *****. I hope you go through a metamorphosis from now till we meet. If you fail to that, our match will play as an enzyme. Believe me when that match is over, that ***** inside of you will be a man.


02-15-07, 02:05 AM
Just Call Her NAPW!

Tony Gamble had never been much of a morning person. After the last few months though, he was getting a little more used to it. Every morning was a new beginning, and it slowly became less of a chore or burden, and more of a habit. I guess you could call it his routine.

He groans slightly as he rolls over in the bed, one arm stretching up into the air as the other begins to wipe away a bit of the sleep left in his eyes. There was something different about this morning, something unexpected. His attention turns to a slender arm draped across his abdomen. His eyes slowly turn their attention to the young woman in her early twenties lying with her back to him. He reaches over, letting his fingers run through her hair without waking her up.

It must have been quite a night. Being the player that he is, he knew it must not have taken him long to bag one of the hot young waitresses of whatever club he had decided to hit up for complimentary drinks. It’s what he always did. Reaching down, he slowly lifts her arm off of him, carefully placing it at her side as he slides out of bed. Sure he could have opened his eyes to find a camera sitting at the edge of the bed ready to film his next great wrestling promo, but we’re in a dimension called reality… And that crap just doesn’t happen in real life.

He takes a few steps, then reaches behind a camera that was conveniently placed at the foot of the bed and checks to see if it had already stopped recording. With a sloppy smile on his face, Tony takes a glance over his shoulder at yet another woman willing to do whatever it took to sleep with someone famous. A King, I guess you could say.

That is what real men do with cameras by their bed!

His journey through the room was still not over, it had only just begun. With an extra bounce to his step, he walked over to one of the windows, ready to wake up the new notch on his belt and pat himself on the back for another job well done. The room is quickly filled with a brilliant light that made him squint a bit. It did not take him long to close them, or for the pain in his head to start beating against his skull like a tribal drum. He knew there had to be another subtle way to awaken his Sleeping Beauty, but he wasn’t sure how.

That’s when it hit him like a ton of bricks. He made his way back to the side of the bed he was laying in, then sat back down and shook the bed slightly for her to realize that he was awake. Pausing slightly, he notices that she starts to shift a bit. He opens one of the drawers on the nightstand and starts to rifle through some of the random things people have left behind.

Woman: Good morning, lover.

With a smile wider than the Grand Canyon, Tony turns to address the goddess.

Tony Gamble: Hey…eeeeyyyyyy?

Of course, what he finds is not some drop dead gorgeous Victoria Secret model. No, he finds the reason secrets are kept.

Woman: What’s the matter, hun?

He didn’t know where to begin. He could say she had more hair on her upper lip than he’s ever had in his life. He could ask if she was talking to him, considering she had a lazy eye that seemed to be focused on the kitchen. Then again, it could be the patch of grass she may or may not consider her teeth.

Yes, it is bad.

Tony Gamble: I’m sorry, do I know you?

Like a freshly mauled antelope in the jungle, she hobbles closer to him, wraps her tentacles around his neck, and kisses him on the chest softly.

Woman: Of course you do, silly. You were screaming my name pretty much all night.

The thought sent a chill racing down his spine.

Tony Gamble: You must have me confused with someone else.

Woman: We could watch the tape again, but you know what that lead to the last time.

Did she say ‘again’? Somewhere, a guy named Chris is laughing. Or at least, he is now. >=)

Tony Gamble: No, I’m sure that would make things worse.

With a nervous chuckle, Gamble starts to scan the room. His eyes dart back and forth as he frantically looks for something.

Tony Gamble: Am I getting punked? Come on Ashton, I know Danny Ferguson put you up to this.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t a joke. Well, not in that sense anyway. I’m sure someone besides Chris is laughing out loud.

Woman: You really don’t remember, do you?

Tony Gamble: Nor do I want to. Seriously, that tape must be destroyed.

He can tell he offended her, but he just shrugged it off with a lazy shift of his shoulders.

Tony Gamble: Look, I’m sure you’re a nice girl and all, but I don’t sleep with ugly chicks. I don’t know if you slipped a roofy in my drink or what, but I’m sure God just wanted to bless you with at least one good night in your pathetic excuse of a life. But now you got to go.

Woman: What? You’re joking right… I mean last night you told me you loved me.

The sound of vomit filling the back of his throat cut her off, the sound of him swallowing it made her gag as well.

Tony Gamble: I’m sure it was more like the type of love you give a pet... A dog for instance.

She jumps out of bed, the patch of hair running down her back enough to keep him from looking any further down before he turns away.

Woman: I don’t know who in the hell you think you are, but if you think you can just use women like your own personal sperm bank, you’re wrong! We have feelings, jerk! You just-

She was picking up her clothes, following the trail that led out of the room and into the hallway where the undressing had begun the night before. That was all the opportunity Tony needed to slam the door in her face.

So he did.

Now he just has to figure out a way to get rid of the tape. Then it hits him. He runs over and presses a button, then smiles as he presses yet another. With the agility of a ballet dancer, he springs across the room and slips into the bed.


Grainy homemade video footage begins to play on the screen. Tony Gamble sits up in the bed, wiping away a bit of the sleep from his eyes.

Tony Gamble: Wow, nothing like waking up refreshed and ready to go. You know, I sat back and listened to your words yesterday, and it made me realize something that I may have missed the first time you opened your mouth. You really don’t say much do you?

Tony smiles. Tony sneers. Tony winks.

Tony Gamble: Now before you start talking about how it doesn’t matter how much you say but what you say. I want you to take a deep breath and just keep your mouth shut, because I know that. I know that I could come out here and say that I’m going to beat you like your ancestors beat on a drum with the bone they took out of their nose, but I also know that I don’t need to say it more than once.

Tony makes his way to the edge of the bed, letting his legs hang over the edge and rest on the floor.

Tony Gamble: You, on the other hand, keep beating on that dead horse with a damn sledgehammer. Do you realize how many times you have said that PRIME is worthless and full of paraplegics? How about the amount of times you said that I’m a… Well, the word keeps getting bleeped out on the air, but I’m sure it had to do with being a female dog.

Darn FCC!

Tony Gamble: Either way, I just want you to know that my buddy Jim would have already run you, and the clones would be calling in and e-mailing him about how lame you are. So how about you try and come up with something fresh, or just keep your mouth shut for the rest of the week. Because honestly, Prince, you’re killing our hype.

With one final smile, Tony waves goodbye as the footage fades to static.

Of course, that doesn’t last long. Somehow, the image of what appears to be a woman riding a man starts to play in it’s place.

But it’s quickly cut off.

Prince Darko
02-15-07, 04:35 PM
The Prince is found in the second row of the infamous used 02 Tahoe, with a Arizona can in his left and trying to close a sidekick with his right.

He looks directly into the camera with disgusted look

Prince Darko Damn, I've been drunk. I mean DRUNK. But I never took a tranie home. Hell I never took a butter-face home. I kept it strictly at tens and if it was going to be a nine. I would have to get two, making it 18.

But, you went and brought a closet queen home. The hell is wrong with you. You can't say you were drunk, your true feelings come out when you’re drunk.

Can't say you're bored with the vagina, Looks outside the widow cause Eddie Murphy already tried that.

Shoot, you wanna play mind games on yourself. Why don't you get some fat chicks one day and some skinny chicks the other day. This week you eat her out, next week you get strictly anal.

Shoot, Belches and covers his mouth his right hand it can't be alcohol that gets you addicted to dick. It's in the blood. It's in the DNA. That's why you have an attraction to snausages and dum didy didy dum dums.


For the first time in my life, Finally closes the sidekick I'm scared of you. If you're willing to have intercourse with a travesty like that.

What in the world will happen to me?


Closet Queen. An all transvestite pornography