View Full Version : TIN HAT~! Justin Evitable v. Jeffrey Roberts

Yori Yakamo jr
07-04-07, 10:08 PM
Promos go here.

Promo deadine is Monday July 16th at 11:59 PM.

07-13-07, 10:26 AM
Fade in.....

Scene cuts to Jeffrey Roberts, lying on his back with his hands intertwined behind his head. Oddly, we see what appears to be track of some sort beneath him, made of wood with steel railing. Roberts stares directly up, to the sky.

Roberts: "So, I hear they've got me back in matches that actually matter. There was the thrilling prospect of a hardcore match with Canadian Punk, or something. I don't really remember his name. Either way, yeah...I skipped that."

"But a shot at the World Title? Hmm, I suppose that's something worth showing up for. I suppose it was just inevitable that this day would come eventually."

"Speaking of which, there's this guy....his name is Justin. The rest of his name, it's a bit of a pun or a joke or something else intended to be clever. I think he's done something important somewhere, maybe even here. I think that might even make him a star. I doubt this match was his idea. He doesn't seem the sort to enjoy bloodshed, but then again....maybe he does. If that's the case, we could be very good friends he and I."

"On the other hand, his pop diva persona may not blend well with the whole nutso psychopath thing everyone sees in me. What an odd couple we'd make. Still, as matches go this should be fun for all involved. We all know how talented Justin is. Well....you all know. He's just some random martial arts freak to me. Just enough of the arts to appear an expert but not skilled enough to be much more than a poser to anyone with true martial arts training."

"I didn't really go through the martial arts training, Justin - but there are variations out there that I do admire greatly. I'm a fan of sharp pointy things, you know. Anything that cuts really. Anything that draws blood is cool by me and any new and innovative way to implement such tools is a subject of intrigue."

"I don't know how you feel about that, Justin. I'm sure I'll find out, as I'm carving crop circles and geometric designs into the skin on your back. Sounds fun doesn't it? All we need are some chili dogs and a football game and we'll have ourselves a picnic. Maybe a friendship is meant to be after all."

"I've never hung out with someone who had the word 'face' plastered across their ass before."

The shot pulls back and we see finally that Roberts has been lying on the track of a large wooden roller coaster, near the top of the lift hill. Further behind him in the shot, and deeper into the course of the track, we see a roller coaster train speeding through the ride......

Fade out......

Justin Evitable
07-13-07, 12:59 PM
Justin is in the MBE Arena's Presidental Party Suite and Coed Locker Room, hanging out with his friends the inner sextum, mainly Hobo Jesus and a prototype creation from the Thai Hooker Research and Development team, ROBOHOBOJesus.

Justin: Well...its not exactly to my specifications, but I'm sure the kevlar meatball grinders he produces could prove quite useful during a matchup

Riki Yakamo walks in, I guess he's been working with the R&D team instead of getting laid....guess if he couldn't beat 'em, he joined 'em.

Riki: Well we sort of ran into a problem, there may be a kink in the programming but instead he dispenses cardboard boxes and hides in them, we should have this worked out before the match.

Justin: Oh well, if you don't get it done by the end of the week, scrap it and we'll have some spare parts for the Yugo, which reminds me...I wonder where Yori stored that thing.

Thai Hooker Research and Development team cart of ROBOHOBOJesus

Now that my scientific genious has been attended to, there's another matter that I have to fix this week, and that is who rightfuly deserves a shot at the MBE World Heavyweight Championship. The obvious choice to face off for that shot would be me, the only man who has gotten the closest to defeating Doc Silver in a one on one matchup. Though it looks like my opponent is going to be some up and comer with some sort of hot streak coming out of his ass. I'll respect that for the time being there, Jeff, but don't always expect your success to last forever. I'm sure your psychopathic ways are an excuse to get under the skins of most wrestlers, but in reality you're about as dangerous as a child with matches.

Perhaps that is what may have caused the dementia you have suffered with for so long, or maybe not, does it even matter in the long run? not at all. Any fool with a minor education in arts and crafts can learn how to carve with a whittling knife, and its obvious that you intend to start using my body as a decoration piece. I may not exactly be a Jean Claude Van Dam or a Chuck Norris in the arts of the roundhouse, but I have enough skill with it to possibly knock you sane again...and if that happens, then what?

I guess it's almost expected for new opponents to go after my name first, especialy those who tend to see pink elephants when NOT high on qualludes, but I can sleep easy knowing that I don't have some average run of the mill name like Jeff Roberts. I may as well be going up a indy guy by the name of Dan Smith, maybe he'll have some retarded nickname to go behind it like Dan "The Man" or something. Maybe we should both be grateful that we do not suffer from such tragic fate, but at least I don't have to worry about being the closest of the two for it.

Now on to the fact that this is for the chance to meet for the World Heavyweight Championship, I've been waiting a long time for this, I've watched hopeful after hopeful get the opportunity to face off for the opportunity, watching each of them fall, knowing deep down inside that I have what it takes to finaly win it, to be the first beloved individual since Paco the Wetback to achieve such an honor. So this is not only just about me, Jeff, this is about the fans, who I think resemble a bunch of bunny rabbits and chupacabras in your mind. Let's just say you aren't stable enough to represent the people. Hell if you're as unstable as Windows Millenium, we'll see a lot of pissed off people if you even had the chance to face for the World Title.

Safe to say, that regardless of my martial arts training, I have done pretty well in the kicking ass department, because it is not just the strikes and the holds that I can hit you with, but the super sexy counters that will ultimately confuse you even more. If weapons were also involved? well lets just say you're facing off against a guy with quite a history of extreme, so don't get too careless, You may enjoy pain in your own sick and twisted fashion, but I have the training and experience to numb out a majority of it when inflicted upon me, I've got the battle scars and stories that I can share with you, but I'll spare you for the moment, there might be a risk that if I told the story to you, you may actualy end up believing that you were in it. Last thing we need is Jeffery Roberts running around swinging singapore canes and hanging out with the Obsessive Compulsive Street Hookers from Block B of the psych ward.

Speaking of women of the night, if I had Face etched on my crotch, that would cause too much of a distraction to the ladies in the crowd, last thing I need is some super sexy hot teenage girl to throw her panties in the ring, hitting me in the face and blinding me during a matchup, its just not something I can risk, Jeff, and from my standpoint, having Face on my rear is just as dangerous but it only represents the fact that you're going to be staring at it when you watch me climb higher up on the ladder after I attain victory and another chance. I'm sure you feel that you've achieved enough to deserve a chance at the big gold belt, but from what I've seen the world title scene needs a little change of scenary, we've gone from a senile old underhanded poker player, and now we're risking giving the guy I thought I once saw on Dateline on "To Catch a Predator". Here's a little re-enactment.

Riki walks back into the room and carts ROBOHOBOJesus back in with him, Riki is playing the part of Chris Hansen.

Riki: So Jeffery, what were you planning on doing with him tonight?


Justin: Apparently HOBOJesus hungry, but this is definately not the type of person I would like holding MY belt, regardless of the pain I'll have to go through with you, and the amount of pain I'll be inflicting upon you, you're going to finaly come to the realization of a lifetime, that you're just another human with a threshold to reach, and I'll be sure to bring you to that limit and beyond.

camera fades to black

07-13-07, 02:12 PM
Fade in.....

Jeffrey Roberts, sitting on the couch in an Armani suit. His long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail and he's wearing horn-rimmed glasses. There's a pencil over his left ear and a very cool tie with some odd Japanese Sanyo character on it. He has one leg crossed over the other, and not even the masculine version. We're talking the hanging girly version.

Roberts: "Dementia? Is that what I have? This is concerning...Justin. I paid those doctors a lot of money to hear a diagnoses that I was psychotic and sociopathic. Never was the word dementia used. There is the possibility that you don't even know what dementia is, Justin. Yeah, I think I'll go with that."

"There were not heated objects coming out of my ass either but....OH wait....hot streak, I get it. Crafty, Justin. Very crafty indeed."

"So you're all about the show, are you? The fans and all that bull****?"

"You don't think I'm dangerous, and that's cool. Most of the time I'm about as kind a man as you could expect to find. You may be interested to know that my five years away from the business were due to an in-ring incident and an unfortunate incarceration, and I know that I've mentioned that before...as it is a required part of my release. Yeah, I actually did carve into a guy in the ring once....Justin. Thing is, the authorities don't share my love for inflicting pain. So, these things happen."

"So, it may be an excuse - but it's an excuse based in fact. And it's simply who I am, not some silly gimmick - which explains using my actual name and not a made up name which in your case is actually a ripoff of an indy fed. Didn't you use the term indy fed when referring to me, Justin? I forget. Ironic."

"I may be a little more dangerous than that child you mentioned, but if you want to give me a pack of matches that's all fine and dandy. Or you know, I could bring my own. I happen to be aware of how to purchase a few boxes at the store. I'm not banned from the supermarket yet."

"And what's so deep about complexity anyway? The only thing complexity did was muck up a perfectly good ritual killing. You stand there and kick a guy fifteen times, knock him on his ass and then as you walk away he gets up, comes up behind you and slits your throat. You may knock me sane, but I might also make you an amputee. Which one concerns you more? And Justin, it's not like I'm some dub off the street. I do happen to have a skill or two up my sleeve. I'm even thinking of having it tattooed on my ass, just so I can be more like you - you who are the ladies man, the super sexy nitwit with the 1995 name."

"What's fantastically different between you and I is your need to be cool. That's funny to me, and if you know me...I just don't laugh much unless there's blood involved. Trust me, Saw 3 had me in stitches.....but me? I'm just here to have fun, Justin. You're here to be entertaining, I'm here to have a little fun. And to win. After all, who enters a sport without meaning to win? That's where the World Championship comes into the picture. You're an unfortunate victim of circumstance, but you're not a standard bearer - not to me. I've actually got a few years on you in the business there, junior."

"There's really nothing unstable about me at all. In fact, I've embraced who I am. I'm not tortured, and I'm not confused. I hear the voices and I indulge them. I don't philosophize. I am what I was born to be, and I act on it. I'm a damn good professional wrestler who has no concept of the word restraint or of the idea of morality. Kids don't ask for my autograph, Justin. Not after the problem in New Jersey back in 2001. Just think, one of the kids in a wheelchair that you spent a day with just to give him a day of hope may have been made paraplegic by the Jeffrey Roberts Foundation."

"I don't care to represent the people, Justin. I only care to represent me."

"I'd actually love to sit around a fire and share battle stories with you. And I'd love to let you in on how I feel about your super sexy counters and weapons history and that secret is.....that.....I'm fine with it. You just do whatever the hell it is you feel you gotta do. Chances are, we could talk about things and I could show you some things and you'd be puking within fifteen minutes. You've got this Hollywood portrait of 'crazy' in your head and you expect me to act a certain way. But trust me, Justin. People like me? You know...the real nutjobs of the world? You just never know what we're gonna do next. There's no script. It's not imaginary bunnies and robots and drugs. I'm clean as a whistle, Justin."

Roberts shrugs....

"Ah well, you can be educated - just like everyone else."

"Do your worst, your best....whatever. I'm getting really indifferent about it all the more I think about it. My attention starts to drift the more I listen to you ramble on, so I guess I'll just go ah


Roberts pulls the pencil from the side of his head and absent-mindedly begins to scrawl something into his left forearm.......we see the red fluid mixing in with the graphite as the skin breaks.....

Fade out....