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View Full Version : McMillan/Promo vs. Pariah/Cruise



jediPREZ
11-20-03, 05:10 AM
Stipulation: B.Y.O.B.

Mr Main Event
11-22-03, 12:21 AM
The time was finally right.

He had lain dormant for too long.

He could return now.

Certainly he had contemplated returning several times before now, but the timing had been all wrong.

He had been weak.

Now he was strong again; both in body and mind.

Now he could share his pain.

May God have mercy on all their souls… because he will not.

---------------

(Fade in on the confines of a room filled with just enough light to let the viewer see that someone sits there alone on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest. The hood of a black jacket covers his face, obscuring it from view. The man begins to speak in a gravelly, yet strangely hypnotic voice.)

P: Throughout the annals of time, the strong have preyed on the weak. When our ancestors first picked up a wooden club and killed, the cycle of brute strength taking precedence over intelligence and ingenuity began. However, the archaic notion of only the strong will survive is slowly dying, whereas the ideology of “work smart, not hard” has flourished. The body can only take so much, but the mind is truly resilient. The wisest among us have exploited that knowledge to the fullest. I count myself among that number.

(The man pulls himself to his feet and pushes the hood of his jacket back to reveal a face as yet unfamiliar to NFW. His hair is shaved close to his head and he has both of his ears and left eyebrow pierced. His most striking feature are his green eyes, which stare intently into the camera.)

P: In my twenty-something years on this planet, I’ve had only myself to depend upon, so the irony of my NFW debut taking place in a tag match is not lost on me. That being said, allow me to make it clear to everyone here that I am an island unto myself. I do not now, nor do I ever, desire for anyone here in NFW to attempt to help me. My reasons? Those will have to wait for another time. What matters now is that I have been given a stage upon which to perform my art. My art… is pain; my canvas… the bodies and minds of my opponents.

I have been informed that we are allowed to bring any weapons we desire to the ring. I need only one. The most dangerous weapon of them all: my mind. Any man can bring a baseball bat to the ring and pound his opponent into submission; I prefer to take my opponents apart psychologically. I have no interest in sportsmanship or the well-being of my opponents. I don’t even care about my partner… nay, even myself… so why would I care about them? If they punch me, I’ll destroy their hand… if they kick me, I’ll break their leg… if they try to intimidate me, I’ll break their spirit.

(The man begins to walk across the room as the camera follows.)

P: Cameron Cruise… you have been chosen to be my partner, but know now that I care for you no more than I do our opponents. Don’t get in my way and our temporary team will flourish. I am not a man you want as your enemy. Cross me and I will inflict just as much pain on you as I do our opponents. Make no mistake… I do care about winning the match, but only on my terms.

(The stranger opens the door and speaks once more.)

P: All of my life, I have been treated as an outcast… a pariah if you will... so that is the name I have adopted for myself. Exactly who I am… what I am… will be revealed in the weeks and months to come. I promise you, NFW, that you have never encountered someone like me before. I am the ghost in the shell and I will rage against the machine. Complacency is a dangerous sin and one you must all atone for. NFW, I am Pariah... and you will all feel my pain…

(Fade to black.)

TSiegel
11-22-03, 09:40 PM
"Boy, I'm sure glad I didn't have to worry about stereotypes for the rest of the season."

(Fadein on Cruise, who, dressed warmly, walks out to the back patio of his house. Using a wheel barrow, he moves towards a neatly stacked row of chopped wood. Setting the barrow down, he moves towards the wood...)

CC: For all the people in the lockerroom who said that I was a chump, all the people who thought that I was just a stepping stone, and especially all the critics who thought that I wouldn't amount to a thing this season....

Bite me.

Yeah, there might have been something to do with Troy showin' up, and yeah, it took me six weeks to do it, but in the end...it was *ME*, who pinned Promo, and *ME* who walked out with the ten points....and *ME*...who proved everyone wrong.

I told you Promo, NEVER....tell me what you can and can't do, because when it's all said and done, the points won't come by word of mouth, but by action and consequence.

Ya see Promo, I'm a believer sometimes in fate.

You verbally tore down *EVERYTHING* that each athlete in that lockerroom represents, by opposing the Ring of Honor. Therefore, for saying that....call it spiritual...call it...hell, in your case a *MIRACLE*, but in any case--YOU LOST.

Bring the pain was it? I dare you. Because if you couldn't do it the first time, then I guarantee you....this guy they got replacing Stanley?

(Throws a few pieces of wood on the barrel)

From what I hear....won't give a damn about the condition either *ONE* of us will be in during or after the match ANYWAY.

Now, Pariah was it?

(Removes a glove to scratch his head, putting it back on)

You're right, can't say that I've heard of you.

I have, however, heard of your TYPE.

You don't feel pain, you do feel pain, pain is temporary....blah, blah, blah. What the point is I'm saying is that I really don't care about whether or not you feel pain, or that you're not a sport about this or that.

I do however, give a damn about winning the match, so that I can assure you will be one of the few things we might at all agree on, if nothing else.

Do I have any intention of crossing you? Nope, not a chance. However, if you look back at past tapes....whereever it seems you get them....look back this season to when I tagged with Joey Melton. The tape pretty much says it all.

You wanna win so bad? Then we get through this victorious and you can go back to your dark corners, closets, or whereever it is you choose to be. You say I haven't seen anything like you? Trust me, I have and it's nothing at all new to me.

I really don't care if we're drinkin' buddies or acquaintences Pariah, honestly I don't.

Because in *THIS* league....only one thing really matters at the end....

(Cruise finishes stacking the wood and grabs the wheel barrel once again)

....and it sure as hell in my mind, won't be *YOU*.

(Cruise wheels back towards the house.)

Fade.

TSiegel
11-22-03, 09:54 PM
OORP: Ring of honor=Code of Honor

Sorry.

TSiegel
11-25-03, 08:58 PM
"Wow....I'm impressed."
(Cruise dressed in black pants, shirt, and leather jacket, and shades, is pacing slowly back and forth across an NFW-sketched backdrop.)

CRUISE: From two guys....well....actually three in this case, but that's beside the point, that are suppose to be the best, you both really haven't been up to par lately? Now, again, my curiousity in wanting to know why aside, it all comes down to this:

Chris McMillan....I have wrestled you before, and yes, both times you did win....but not without my putting up a fight. The fact that I'm pointing out to you man, is that you've BEEN to the top before.

You've led the conference before albeit, reasonably sole posession, now look at you.

(Cruise, holding out his right hand, makes a "thumbs down" sign)

Almost....well, hopefully given a good shot at it....in the same area as *ME*.

Now, we both know where it is I'm at in the conference let alone the league. 'Nuff said.

Promo, on the other hand....

(Cruise has a look of disappointment on his face.)

You oughta know better. I told ya I wasn't anyone to overlook or pass off as a pushover, and it costed you. Troy came down to ringside on her own accord, abeit due to something you to have goin' on in A1E....and you felt it necessary to not do something you, me, Hornet, Matthews, Manson, Southern, the boogie man, and lord-knows-who-else-in-the-lockerroom knows better than to NOT do: CONCENTRATE on the MATCH , nothing else. As far as after the match, I really don't care what you do you, whether it's change to leave, sign autographs, bake cookies for Troy....which I'm sure will go over huge for her....I really DON'T care.

But seeing as you failed to do anything remotely CLOSE to what you said you were going to do last week....

(Cruise folds his arms over his chest as the camera closes up on him.)

As a Former WORLD CHAMPION....I would think it to behoove you to do at least a LITTLE better this week.

I've been sayin' it all season if not all YEAR, gentlemen, but I'll say it one last time for the two of you. Pariah, seein' as we gots' ta' cooperate this week, I suppose it won't hurt if you listen in as well.

It's the season of the Comeback...kid. You've all done it before, most notably the two of you, Promo and McMillan, in expecting me to just let you step over me, on the way to the top.

Not anymore. You want a reason to believe it? Fine.

(Cruise takes off his shades, still in the close up)

Show up.

I'll GIVE YOU a reason.

(Fadeout.)

Mr Main Event
11-26-03, 05:42 PM
The message had begun, but it was far finished. He knew that stating his intentions was but a minute part of the plan, but important all the same. The battle that was starting... was merely the precursor to war.

---------------

(Fade in on the same dark room we’ve seen before. Pariah sits on the floor, his back against the wall as a flickering television plays the latest Cameron Cruise promo. As the promo ends, the television flicks off and the room is engulfed in darkness until a single lightbulb illuminates, giving off a minimal amount of light.)

P: Where are they? Where are the opponents I heard so much about but have yet to see? Perhaps they are afraid… afraid of what they cannot control… afraid of the enigma that is me. But we’ll never know unless they show their faces and unfortunately they don’t seem to be in any rush to do so.

Unfortunate, but acceptable.

I don’t need to interact with them to find the motivation to want to beat them. Once I set eyes upon them in the ring, that will be all the motivation I need. When I spoke my first words here, I made my mission clear. I must share my pain… I must make all who come in contact with me feel it… experience it… live it. My pain is my guiding force… it drives my path… but all others will only be guided to an inevitable end. Whether that end is just a loss in a match or the end of a career is of no importance to me.

(Pariah traces a single finger down the concrete wall.)

P: The way things look, my own partner could give me more competition than our opponents seem to be capable of. Well, Cameron, I’m not sure if congratulations are in order yet or not, but thus far I find our competition lacking. All the same, I’d rather not be stuck in a team situation. Relying on others has only proven to be a hindrance in the past. It would be wise for you to not make that same mistake.

I hope you find it in yourselves to make an appearance. I have so much to show you… and to prove to everyone. McMillan and Promo… my pain must be shared. It won’t be denied. It can’t be denied. Truthfully, whether you choose to speak or not if of little consequence to me because the match will tell the true story… and there is no happy ending in sight for you.

(Pariah looks into the camera.)

P: As we walk the path of life, we must all make choices. Those choices define us and our character. What does say it about the opposition when they choose to remain hidden? Furthermore, what does it say about when the lines of communication seem to have an air of forced kinship? We will get the job done… of that I have no doubt… but then what? Only time will tell.

Farewell…

(Fade to black.)

TSiegel
11-26-03, 08:14 PM
"Amazing, simply amazing"

(We fadein as Cameron Cruise is seen relaxing in his Cherry, 1969 Mustang with the door open, in the parking lot of the local Gym in Jacksonville, NC. He smiles as a glint flashes across the lenses of his "Anarchy"-styled shades. )

CC: Pariah, I do believe that with all you've just said in your last comments you've not only managed to NOT say anything different from your first promo, but while doing so, have made anyone else who's seen it pretty much DUMBER than they were before it.

As far as congratulating me....I'm not shaking your hand yet, code or not, only in part because I haven't stepped in the ring yet. Once I have, and what I hope will happen HAS happened, then I might give it consideration.

But until then, I'm not assuming the least bit of ANYTHING until I've heard my name and yours announced as winners of the match. Only after that's done, happened and over with, will I ease of abit and shake your hand.

But ya know somethin'?

(Cruise snaps his fingers, as if realization has occured but instead in Sarcasm.)

Somethin' tells me that I won't be done with you after this week. Not that I give a damn about it, but something tells me that we might meet again after this week.

If we gots ta' then so be it. I'm gonna be ready then too, but the question in for that time and this week for you is really the obvious one.

Will you be?

Of course, everyone must feel your pain.

From what I've gathered thus far you have quite abit of it to dish out.

But so do I.

Don't think for a minute that I haven't forgotten about you two, McMillan and Promo, either.

Chris, as I'm sure you've gathered from what I said before....I've been waitin' OH SO LONG for us to meet, that being the obvious. Things will change. That I guarantee.

Now, speaking of guarantees (Cruise clears his throat appropriatly, but more so in sarcasm), Promo.

For someone who pretty much said that of pain to me last week....I just can't quite figure out why all of a sudden YOU are so quiet?

I mean, really....you wanted to quote unquote, "Bring The Pain"....and I called your bluff, and in essence.... BURST YOUR BUBBLE.

I hate to break it to you Promo.....but this time it's not gonna just be your ego, as was last week, but your apparent infident confidence as well.

(Cruise smiles before producing some car keys )

I'll betcha that just pisses you off that I could very well be right doesn't it? I mean, I proved you wrong once before, so there isn't any necessary doubt that you had before is there?

(Cruise inserts the keys and starts the car, revving up the Mustang. )

Because that's just a REALITY CHECK....that you just....won't like.

(Cruise turns, facing his head forward and hits the accelerator, speeding off. Fadeout )

Promo
11-27-03, 05:42 PM
This board has already ate 2 attempts to RP today.

Brian

Promo
11-27-03, 06:00 PM
:: FADEIN to an empty stairwell in an unknown arena. The camera sits at the bottom of a flight of stairs looking up and we see Promo sitting at the top of them. He's holding his trademark Singpore Cane and has his mask pulled up just far enough to finish drinking a beer. ::

PROMO: Welcome to round number two, Cameron. I want say that you were lucky, or you were the recipient of some fluke win at my debut, because hell, let's face it, you're a tremendous talent, or else you wouldn't be here.

That's as much of a compliment that you'll be getting from me.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Now then, on to the matters at hand. It's come to my understanding that some of the boys in the lockerroom sort of labeled me the "underachiever" of the night at my debut. That's fine, because they fail to understand the motivation that makes my world go round.

In other words, they can go **** themselves.

You see, when I signed my little contract with NFW, I knew coming in that my chances at winning the illustrious Ultratitle were about the same as me winning the damned lottery. So, I'll say it one more time, that's not why I'm here.

I'm here because this place has some of the best damned talent in this sport. I'm talking about the likes of Shane Southern, Hornet, Armando Montezuma, Shizaki, Ryan, Marx, and the list goes on and on.

That's why I'm here. To experience the competition firsthand. I want to know whether or not this is the best place to be and if it is, then next season I'll make a run at the Ultratitle. For now, it's all fun and games.

Cameron Cruise, you think you're on a roll now. You got one up on me and took home the victory. We won't discuss how much of a help that ***** Troy was though, will we?

No, because the plain and simple fact of the matter is that I lost.

Nothing else needs to be said about it.

Which brings me to this week. A match geared a little bit more to my tastes. You see, this week, when I'm stuck in a tag-match with Chris McMillan against Cameron Cruise and Pariah, I can bring anything that I want to to the ring. I can bring a bag of thumbtacks. I can bring my Singapore Cane. I can bring barbed wire baseball bats. It doesn't matter. It's all legal.........for one night only.

That's right. Cruise, Pariah, for one night, I get to make the two of you bleed like you've never done so before. I get to hear the screams as you dig the thumbtacks out of your skin. And most of all, I get to hear your ribs crack when I take a swing with a Louisville Slugger.

It's going to be a bloodbath, and I wouldn't have it any other way. And if McMillan thinks that he wants some of me, that's fine too. There's plenty of me to go around.

NFW, this week, I set the records straight. You can take your Ultratitle and do with it as you wish, but just know that for this one night, you've given me free reign to bring the pain down on some people.

And I won't be held responsible if there's two or three empty roster spots when I'm through.

Get ready Cameron, because the pain is coming for you.

:: FADEOUT as Promo tosses his empty beer can down the stairs and hits the camera lens. ::

Mr Main Event
11-28-03, 05:11 PM
”If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: if the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
We'd jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.” – Macbeth, 1.7

---------------

(Pariah sits alone, as usual. His face is blank, but his eyes betray the fact that a myriad of thoughts are running through his mind. Without so much as acknowleding the camera, he begins to speak.)

P: Cruise, I find it ironic that you of all people accuse me of merely repeating myself. Only a fool would find himself unable to see the difference in one promo to the next, but as I find myself stuck with you for the duration I will ignore your aimless rambling and instead focus on something else you said. You mentioned the Code of Honor and that you would not be shaking my hand yet. Have I ever offered it to you? Cooperation is necessary for our survival this week, and I shall abide by that, but do not mistake me for yet another sheep amongst the flock because you will soon come to find that my wool is as black as my heart.

(Pariah shifts his body and runs his hand over his stubbled head before continuing.)

P: It seems the opposition has finally found its voice. With all the speed of a turtle poking his head out from his shell, Promo has at last shown himself to be ready to enter the ring against Cruise and myself. Preparation alone shall not win the day however and though his cavalier attitude is admirable it seems that I have been dismissed as nothing more than an afterthought and that is the biggest mistake he can possibly make.

You speak of blood, Promo, and an almost vampiric palor masks your features. The sight of your opponent’s blood can be quite a thing to behold but what if were to be your blood that’s on my hands? Would you still be so smug? Would you still be having fun and playing games? I think not. A reliance on weapons alone does not impress me. As I’ve said before, anyone can swing a bat or a chair and injure their opponent. I am as capable of it as you, your partner, or even my own partner.

You have overlooked the cruelest weapon that God bestowed upon us. Our minds… our thoughts… our imaginations. Although I’m sure we use our minds in ways not intended, it is nonetheless a common practice and one that can be of great benefit. Mindless mayhem and destruction can never lead to success. There must be a plan in place… proper motivation… and the will to succeed. I possess all three of these things and I believe in my ability to put them all to proper use.

No, Promo… you aren’t the only with free reign… and you’ll soon come to know my pain. For you see, I have promised myself that each and every person I come in contact with will feel my pain. You are no different; you are not exempt from that promise. You want to bring pain. So do I… and so I shall. Furthering your agenda is of no interest to me. I care only about my own. Unfortunately for you, my convictions are much stronger than yours.

(Fade to black.)

Promo
11-28-03, 10:06 PM
:: FADEIN to Promo who is standing in front of a computer generated backdrop featuring the likeness of him and the NFW logo. ::

PROMO: Pariah, don't think for one minute that you are the forgotten entity in our match. You think that I worry about spilling my own blood? You think that my blood pouring out will cause me to turn tail and run?

I laugh at the notion. The very thought that I would fear anything that you could think of doing to me in that ring is a real laugh riot.

You see, I'm not known for my outstanding technical expertise. I'm not going to take you down with a lot of high flying flippy things. What I'm going to do is punish you with a relentless offense.

I'm going to use chairs, cables, ring pads, the ropes, and you never know what else. Hell, maybe you can dig out some of my old stuff and see how a guy called Rat and I, we tore down a motherf<censored> Burger King. Hell that guy gave me everything that he had and in the end, I was a bloody mess.

But you know something else? I was a winner. That's right Pariah, I was a winner in that match and when I walked out of that Burger King, I was the damn UXW champion. A belt that I never lost.

That's not here and now though, is it Pariah? I know, that you'll come on and be clouded in your little mystery, and you'll talk about how that's nothing compared to something that you did before.

That's fine.

You know why?

Because I don't give a ****.

That's right. I said I don't give a **** about what you've done, who you are, what you're gonna do to me, or anything else. I've stated my objectives here in NFW. Have you, mystery man?

Game time is about to begin and when it does, you'll find out that Promo doesn't play your little boy games.

You're about to step into a man's ring, and when this man is through with you, you can take your little mystery wrapped inside an enigma and stick it straight up your ass.

Bring your mind. But before you do, I lay the challenge down to you:

If you think that's all you'll need in this match, then don't even bother picking up a weapon.

Prove it to me, prove it to the world that your mind is all that you need.

In the end, you'll be laying at the hands of Promo.

Guarandamnteed.

:: FADEOUT as Promo takes his thumb and pull it across his throat. ::

Mr Main Event
11-29-03, 12:43 AM
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." – Frank Herbert’s Dune

---------------

(NFW cameras find Pariah roaming the halls of the Paul Tsongas Arena. His wandering is meanderful, with no clear purpose in mind. He merely seems to be… observing.)

P: People such as Promo never fail to live up to my expectations of them. If I had wanted to see just another cookie cutter promo, I could have re-watched one of my partner’s efforts. I expected more from someone who claims to be my superior and yet… I found myself wanting.

You’re wrong about so many things, Promo, that I have begun to question whether or not you have ever been right about something. I do not seek to inspire fear in my opponents because fear more often than not results in flight. Perhaps you’re familiar with the concept of fight or flight? Preservation of oneself is always the first instinct that you must strive to suppress until your opponent realizes that it’s too late for them to get away. That you are not wise enough to even want to flee is merely to my benefit.

(Pariah pauses in front of a dressing room.)

P: Perhaps your hardcore tendencies have begun to take a toll on your short-term memory. That can be the only fathomable reason that you would challenge me to not bring a single weapon to the match when I’ve already stated that was my very intention from the beginning. A word to the wise: too many shots to the head can be harmful to your career.

As for my mysterious intentions, they’ll be made known soon enough. And my past, as illustrious as it may or may not be, will remain my past. I have no need to wave my accomplishments around to try and prove a point. My point is rather simple: you will feel my pain. Does that sink into your thick Promethean skull? I certainly hope so because I cannot possibly state it any more plainly.

I’ve dealt with your kind before, Promo, and I’ve never been impressed. You fancy yourself a man in a boy’s world but this is one so-called boy that does not play games. If you want me to prove to you that I am all that I have claimed to be, you’ll get your wish very soon. But the result won’t be as you have foreseen. You are the seer of false visions and the teller of lies… and the truth must be known.

It shall be you who will be laying at my feet… and as you look up with the last bit of effort you can muster… it will be my face that looks down upon you. Embrace the truth, Promo, for soon it shall be all you have left.

(Fade to black.)

Promo
11-29-03, 01:55 AM
:: FADEIN to a cold, dark warehouse setting. The only light shines above an empty wrestling ring where we see Promo leaning against the ring ropes, motioning the camera man forward. ::

PROMO: Pariah, perhaps in your conceited attempts at a mind game, you misunderstood me.

You see, my challenge as you put it, wasn't for you to not bring any weapons down to the ring. No, because I have no doubts that there will be more than enough there for everyone of us to use.

No, what my challenge to you was, or is, to not use any of those nice little weapons laying around at ringside. You see, while you talk a good game, and you've laid the groundwork for whatever little mysteries you might want to lay out for the future, I know that the urge to pick up a chair and hit someone with it will be there.

I know that when McMillan or myself have you tied up and you see an opportunity to bust a frying pan over our heads, you'll think about it.

Whether or not you choose to act upon those thoughts remain to be seen, Pariah, but I have my doubts.

I know that a man is always a man, but when he's confronted with a do or die situations, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, he'll do whatever it takes.

So, there's the challenge for you, big man, you made the statement that you don't need 'em, then don't use 'em.

Plain and simple.

As for who you may be, or what you may be planning, I don't give a damn. I'm not here in NFW because Pariah's here. I'm not in this match because Pariah's in it. I'm here because that's what the boss says.

And in order for me to earn my check, that means that I've got to kick your ass from one end of the arena to the other. And I'm not object or unqualified to do so.

Play your games, Pariah, and I'll play mine. In the end, you'll learn that it's not about winning or losing, (pauses) It's all about the PROMO!

:: FADEOUT ::

TSiegel
11-29-03, 05:10 PM
"Ever the Mindless Hyprocrite aren't you Promo?"
(Cruise slowly paces back and forth across an NFW-pencil-sketched backdrop.)

CC: You say that you're not here for the Ultratitle because to challenge from the bottom halfway through the season is impossible. So impossible, that you'd rather try to cause Chaos and Disorder for the rest of this season, and wait for the next before REALLY putting forth the effort and competing?

Hate to tell you Promo, but that's been done before. In case you didn't know, that guy said the same thing but instead of flourishing, he achieved other honors.

(Cruise names 'reasons' on his fingers...)

He got injured courtesy of Jean Rabesque.....deported back to England....and in the process, FIRED.

The replacement? Your's truly's own partner, Pariah.

Now, tell me this Promo....what makes you any different than him? As a matter of fact, even though it makes you look stupider than your decision to overlook me last week, I'm gonna g'head and let ya keep doin' this.

That way, the sooner YOU get fired, the sooner we'll be able to get someone in here who actually BELIEVES in himself.

No, Promo, not enough to just bust some heads, but to also try at something worth risking PERMANENT INJURY for.

Ya see, I don't care what everyone SAYS their here for.

I really don't.

Because the only reason that matters most to ME, is the Ultratitle. I don't care about hurting people, even if some of 'em are my friends. When it's all said and done, we're all here for the same reason.

I told ya before, Promo, you don't want the Ultratitle? Good, then get the **** outta here, and quit wasting the rest of the roster's time. I'm sure I speak for the rest of the league when I say that I'd rather compete against someone who wants this *AS* bad, as I do, if not more.

You sitting here and renouncing your faith in yourself into at least *TRYING* to compete makes me sick. If you wanna go beat some heads into a wall, go join the UFC, or the K-1 organizations and challenge them. I'm sure they'll be more than willing to accommodate you, even if you think it's about the PROMO instead of the PERFORMANCE.

This week is "B.Y.O.B." for NFW.

Which means that you can bring anything you want and dress however you want for your match.

Yet Promo wants to fight the fact and challenge my partner and I to NOT ....use the weapons we bring? Promo, I don't want to get this wrong or anything...but wouldn't that be the POINT of the match? To beat up your opponents with whatever it is you have with you?

(Cruise smacks his forehead in sarcasm)

What am I saying? Of course, this is PROMO we're talking about. The same guy who became a champion walking out of BURGER KING!!!

What's wrong Promo? McDonald's not good enough for ya?

(Camera closes up on Cruise, who's now smile has turned into something of sincerity.)

You oughta know better than to just show for EXPERIENCE reasons. I'm here for the long haul Promo, not to see if I like it or not. I knew that BEFORE I walked in the door.

You however....don't seem to be able to decide that yet. That the case, your ride on the road to NFW Ultratitle is officially OVER .

Here's where you get OFF .

Fade.

Mister Dread
11-30-03, 03:16 PM
::FADEIN on the rickety, sagging ring at the Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy, the dim and unsavory haunt of “The Wolf” Chris McMillan. McMillan sits perched on the top turnbuckle, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and a tattered ‘Dogs of War’ t-shirt. McMillan seems resigned, his usually sharp voice somewhat muted::

THE WOLF: It’s been a long time since someone beat me clean, in the middle of the ring. Like I told Shane Southern, I was convinced of my own invincibility. And what happened to that? Not only was I beaten clean, but beaten three times in a row. I’m not quite sure how to take that. In two cases, it was my own fallibility. But against Jason Payne … I never should have lost that match. Yet Payne dug down deep, and found that fistfull of guts that I must have missed while I was stomping the hell out of him. That one set me back a little, put me off my guard a little.

THE WOLF: And so I’ve sat back, content to let the three of you squabble like kids on the playground while I licked my more-than-physical wounds. I must say that amongst the three of you you’ve managed to deconstruct each other’s character quite nicely. You haven’t really left much for me to do. Pariah and Cameron Cruise, you spend so much time making fun of each other that you seem to have neglected one of the most important things of all … how the two of you are going to work to win this thing. Now, since I’ve been hiding away feeling sorry for myself, Promo and I haven’t made a single damn step towards forming a cohesive team. So here we stand, the four of us … heading into a matchup that requires strategy, teamwork, and an elusive combination of finesse and force. None of us are properly prepared. We head into a team effort as four completely separate entities. Well, so be it. It’s a little late in the game to change what we are, but it’s still too early to see what we will be. The best we can do is … well, the best we can do.

THE WOLF: You know, Cruise, it’s really too bad that the two of us aren’t teaming up in this thing. We work well together, as the world has seen. Still, I’ve been looking forward to facing you again. No matter what you might believe, I never thought you were a pushover. We all have slumps sometimes. When you’re at your worst is not when I take your measure, Cruise.

::McMillan hops down off the turnbuckle and walks slowly around the ring, touching all the turnbuckles in turn::

THE WOLF: You’re right, Cruise, when you talk about comebacks. God knows I’ve made my share of them. I’m the eternal underdog, after all. Hindered by my size, total lack of charm, and crippling body odor. And still I fight. Still, I overcome. Yes, Cameron, a comeback is possible for you. Not only that, but I think it likely. However, I’m not willing to let it be at my expense. No, Cameron, I don’t expect you to let me walk over you. It’s not a question of letting me do it. It’s just a matter of dealing with it when it happens.

THE WOLF: Now, Pariah … I sort of feel sorry for you. For all your talk about Promo’s limited mental faculties, you seem to be coming up a bit short yourself. You’re talking about coming empty-handed to a match that revolves around using whatever you can to mash your opponent into a finely-ground patch of quasi-human goo. That’s real bright. The only weapon you’ll need is your mind, right? Well, while you’re busy slamming your brain into me, I’ll while away the minutes by hitting you in the face with a cinderblock. While you’re using the overwhelming might of your MIND to bludgeon me, I’ll be smashing your skull with an entrenching tool. It’s difficult to use your mind when it’s leaking onto the mat, wouldn’t you say? You bring your brain, and I’ll bring a garden trowel, and we’ll just see who’s smarter. I may feel your pain, Pariah, but the pain YOU’RE going to feel will be wholly your own. Consider it a gift. You can add it to your collection.

::McMillan stalks to the center of the ring::

THE WOLF: Now, that’s not to say that I think you’re a total idiot, Pariah. You did say something I like, something I admire. “If they punch me, I’ll destroy their hand. If they kick me, I’ll break their leg. If they try to intimidate me, I’ll break their spirit.” That’s a great line, Pariah, but one that doesn’t apply when you face me. Just about anyone here will tell you that. My body has been broken more than once. Hell, my body is ALWAYS broken. Better men than you, and worse men as well, have done their best to shatter my bones. They’ve done it. They’ve tried their hardest to shred my tendons, and they’ve been hugely successful. They’ve done everything in their power to destroy the fibers of my muscles, and they’ve done an exceptional job. They’ve even managed to warp my mind, and destroy my perception of reality for a while. But I always fought back. I always struggled against the odds. Because nobody, anywhere, ever, managed to break my spirit. I’m looking forward to the effort, though. And more than that, I’m looking forward to the moment when realization hits you. The moment when the truth of my words comes clear. What will happen at that moment? Will fear wrap it’s silky coils around your bowels and squeeze? Or does despair settle into the pit of your stomach, a cold, hard little ball of hopelessness? Or maybe it will be resolve, a swooping and triumphant determination to make me eat my words … in any case, none of it will do you any good. That’s the emotion that will finally strike a chord inside you … futility. Futility, because that’s what all your words and any action you might take will lead to. You’re the catalyst for your own defeat. All I have to do is let it happen. You’re not afraid. You’re not intimidated. You’re also not good enough.

THE WOLF: Cameron Cruise might think he’s good enough. Cameron Cruise may think that he’s on the comeback trail, on the brink of his glorious redemption for a pair of losses to the Wolf. But he’s getting himself all worked up for nothing. I have no doubt that Cruise will overcome this wrestling wasteland he’s been dwelling in, but it won’t happen in the ring with me. You’re no pushover, Cruise. But down you’ll go nevertheless, and you won’t be getting up any time soon. I’ll make sure of it. One thing that we definitely agree on … this is all about the Ultratitle. I made a fuss about defining myself through competition, but I’ve all but given up on that. If I’m forced to define myself by events such as those that transpired between myself and Jason Payne, well .. I shudder even to consider it. No, the only thing left is that big-ass trophy and the fruit that comes with it. The ability to throw up a gigantic middle-finger to the world and say “See? I told you so, assholes.” That’s what we strive for. Let these other turds grumble through their mouthfuls of man meat about only being in it for the thrill, or to share their pain, or whatever lame-ass rationale they use to gird themselves against their own shortcomings and failures. No, We know the score, Cruise. And I think you know what I am capable of doing to achieve my goal.

::McMillan begins to pace again, gesturing expansively::

THE WOLF: Promo … you’re the one I need to address more than any other. I think it’s too late for the two of us to reach any substantial understanding, and I sure as hell don’t think we’re going to form the bond that a successful tag team needs to win. I suppose the best we’re gonna be able to do is agree not to step on each other’s toes. I don’t have any real hopes of going into this with a cohesive team, but I can say with absolute certainty that I don’t want to fight a three-on-one battle, nor am I really looking forward to taking Cruise and Pariah on alone. Could I do it? Maybe. Anything can happen in the world of professional wrestling, after all. But do I want to do it? Hell no. I don’t have a problem with you, Promo. Don’t know you, never heard of you, and I don’t really care. But let’s at least agree that we’ll hit Cruise and Pariah instead of hitting each other. Sound fair?

THE WOLF: I’m not coming into this match dragging along any false pretenses. I understand what a formidable weapon the human mind can be. I also know that every inch of my body, and every fiber of my being is a weapon. But I will never underestimate the brutal efficiency of hitting someone in the groin with a shovel, either. I’m not going to come out to the ring and try to prove my intellectual superiority. I’m not going to come to the ring and dazzle you with my technical prowess or thrill you with a scintillating aerial assault. What I am going to do is come down to the ring and secure myself some points. Nothing more, nothing less. Gentlemen, have an enjoyable day.

::FADE TO BLACK::

TSiegel
12-01-03, 06:33 PM
(Fadein, a local park picnic table, Jacksonville, NC. Cruise, dressed in black pants, shirt, and a heavy zipper-pocket-leather Jacket is turning Burger-patties on a grill.)

CRUISE: Wow....and here I thought I was gonna set things up and get my Portable TV out for a break in the schedule, relax abit.

Looks like I might have to alter plans again won't I?

Ya see Chris, I know how depression feels. I know what it's like to go out time and time again and say the things I do, and not be able to get the job done. I do so very much.

Heck, I bet another friend of mine in a BOILER ROOM match took him to hell and still couldn't get it done, in the process just about guaranteeing the very opposite. But I'm afraid that you just don't know what it's like having losing three straight, to my SIX, tie or not. It's feeling is actually alot better than if you WIN the first six.

It changes things...things like your attitude about yourself, your self-confidence, the way you do things....

(Cruise checks a couple burgers as he talks, continuing to prep his meal...)

One thing that DOESN'T change however, is your ability to detect technicalities.

Like for instance, you seem to think I actually GIVE A DAMN about Pariah, when merely, I'm deadset on doing whatever it takes to win my match.

I may not like Pariah and he in turn, may not like me....

(Cruise looks up a second from the grill.)

But I'm at least willing to sacrifice that fact to get the job done. Whether it's to throw my partner out to the floor give him a breather, or drive an elbow through your back to break up a pin, I don't care.

You're right though, I'm sure otherwise, we would be great as a tag team. But in this case, seein' as it's gettin' down to the wire....I could give a care less.

But again, I do feel it in my soul....that this is perhaps the beginning of one of the greatest comebacks in the NFW this season. However, I also DISAGREE about you thinking I'm not going to stay with it anytime soon. No one wants a three-on-one battle, this is true....but who's to say it will even get that far?

Ya see Chris, while Pariah and I've have already agreed on something that you've yet to accomplish with your OWN partner, who seem's to not really give a rat's you-know-what about helping YOU out.

Why is that?

Because unlike Pariah and I, for you it might as well BE a three-on-one match because after hearing Promo waste his breath for about a month.....it's all he cares about.

Not the Ultratitle or anything else.

Actually Chris....I do have a little sympathy for you, man. You tryingn to turn things around in a tag match with a man that doesn't really give a damn about you, but would rather bash YOUR head in than to let you get the pin.

The same man, coincidently, is also proud of the fact that he had to walk out of a BURGER KING ESTABLISHMENT to become a champion.

Now tell me Chris, if I took my wife's neice to a Burger King restaurant, and got her some type of Happy Meal with a small toy....would she be as proud with it than Promo with a title?

Probably.

(Cruise finishes cooking on the grill and produced from a bag, some ketchup, cheese, and other items for his meal, sitting down.)

You wanna bash my partner's head in with a Cinderblock or a shovel, Chris? Be my guest, I won't stop you there.

However, I'm gonna have to give you a Reality Check on that one, pal. It won't be during the match, but afterwards when you let loose. As I said, I won't stop you then, that I assure you.

Why?

Because I'm going to be too busy CELEBRATING MY VICTORY, to care less.

That, my friend, is something you DEFINATELY won't like.

(Cruise begins dressing his burger and takes a huge bite, winking in the process. Fadeout.)

Mister Dread
12-04-03, 11:26 AM
::FADEIN on the NFW banner backstage. “The Wolf” Chris McMillan stands there, attired as usual in jeans, harness boots, and an old ‘Testicular Fortitude’ t-shirt. McMillan fidgets with the tape on his wrists for a moment before looking up into the camera::

THE WOLF: I’ve watched your spots, Cruise, and you’re wrong. I realize that you don’t give a damn about Pariah beyond what he can do for or to you in the ring. But regardless of how we all feel about each other, and no matter how well you and Pariah or Promo and I can function as a team, I’ll still do what I always do. I’ll still bring everything I’ve got. I’ll still devastate anyone who stands against me, be it my opponents or my “partner”. I’ll go over, under, around, or through you if I have to. I must admit some admiration for your abilities and tenacity, Cruise, but I don’t feel sorry in the least because of it when I’m kicking your ass, as you and everybody else around here has already seen.

::McMillan begins to pace slowly, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead::

THE WOLF: And as far as you and Pariah having come to an understanding of sorts … well, it’s true that Promo and I haven’t made that sort of breakthrough yet. But like I said, if I have to I’ll take you both on by myself. All three of you, if that’s what it comes down to. That’s certainly not the path I want to take. If my hand is forced into that course of action, I shudder to even consider what I’ll be forced to do to make certain that I’m the one that walks away. See, Cruise, I’m a man of many talents. Everyone has seen me make some insane jumps without regard to ANYONE’s safety. People are starting to realize that I can go hold-for-hold with the best pure wrestlers in the business. I can shoot-fight, and I command an arsenal of strikes, holds, and kicks that would make Steel Viper proud. But something that I don’t think I’ve made apparent yet, something that I think the NFW has yet to fully appreciate is the brutal efficiency and lack of remorse in which I take refuge when faced with this sort of match. I do not hesitate. I do not reconsider. I do not care what happens to someone else in this sort of match. The only thing on my mind is taking care of myself, and bringing home the win in the process.

THE WOLF: There are a lot of things weighing heavily on my mind right now. You and Pariah. Promo. My crippling Jason Payne two weeks ago. And certainly in the foreground, Shane Southern. I’m not going to waste your time addressing Shane right now. I’ve got words for him, but now’s not the time. Let it suffice to say that I am at this moment an emotional wreck. And as sick as it may sound, there’s nothing more cathartic than working out your anger, pain, sorrow, and frustration on yielding human flesh. I honestly like you, Cruise, and I admire your talent. But given the chance, I’ll still take some therapeutic release at the cost of a little of your blood. Am I a dark and brooding pain-obsessed psycho archetype like Pariah? No, I don’t pretend to rejoice in the misery of others. I don’t seek out opportunities to … “share my pain” with anyone. Sometimes, however, I’m not given a choice.

THE WOLF: And speaking of Pariah … I’m sort of looking forward to stepping into the ring with you. I want to see if you’re just another blowhard, another of the self-important but ultimately useless walking rectums that I’ve had to face over the years. I haven’t been able to make up my mind yet. However, I’d love to see if you can back up your words with action. It won’t be much fun if you can’t. I hope I won’t be disappointed. I hope you’re not just another living stereotype. Give me something to sink my teeth into, Pariah. Something real. So far you've failed horribly. So far, all you shown me is the same tired old rhetoric that's been spewn forth from every quasi-goth and Manson clone for the last ten years.

::McMillan slows his pacing, finally coming to rest and turning towards the camera as we come in close::

THE WOLF: And Promo. My erstwhile partner. I’ve been doing some checking up on you, and imagine my surprise when I happened across this year’s FWI 250. Nice job on scoring so highly. I myself didn’t do nearly as well. Guess that makes me a loser, huh? But keep this in mind, son. If you cross me, I’ll make you feel it. I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to contend with Cruise and Promo by myself, and I really don’t want to have you working against me. If that’s the case, though, you’ll make your amends for it. Oh, it won’t be in the ring, or in front of the camera. It’ll be when you’re walking to your car. When you’re checking in to your hotel. When you’re getting on the plane. Please don’t make me do something I’ll consider thinking about the possibility of regretting. Just be on my side in this. I hope we’re clear.

THE WOLF: You know, it's this sort of garbage match that have made people forget what wrestling is all about over the last decade or so. I've worked hard to try and rekindle the spark that is actual wrestling. I think, however, that I myself am going to have to forget what wrestling is all about, at least for one night. Once in a great while, there's nothing more satisfying, nothing that completes a being so well as the cold hickory grip of a sledgehammer. On that rare occasion, there's nothing more musical to the ear than the sickening thud of that sledgehammer rebounding off some unfortunate's ugly skull. Rest easy, folks. We're almost there.

::FADE TO BLACK::