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  1. #1
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    Aggression 75 Battle Royal

    Go crazy go nuts, the two survivors face off for the right to main event Wrestleverse and go for the EPW World Title. Deadline is October 28th at 11:59 EST.

    Pete-edit:

    To make my life (and probably everyone else's) easier, here's the list of competitors:

    Cameron Cruise
    Eli Flair
    Rocko Daymon
    Olvir Arsvinnar
    Magnus Destructo
    Shawn Hart
    Jack Harmen
    Tony Davis
    James "Judgement" Haughton
    Malcolm Joseph-Jones
    Christian Light
    Aaron Jones
    Otaku
    "The Dragon" Karl Brown
    Last edited by User Poets; 10-17-13 at 08:44 AM. Reason: Because Pete is lazy and doesn't want to have to switch between two threads.

  2. #2
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    Re: Aggression 75 Battle Royal

    (FADEIN: Tony Davis, wearing blue collegiate wrestling gear with ear guard, stands in front of an EPW flag. He sneers.)

    TONY DAVIS: I, am a parasite.

    (Davis sniffs. He shakes his head from side to side.)

    TONY DAVIS: For the last ten years, every job I've gotten in the wrestling business was allowed to occur because Jack Harmen was by my side. From FWO to CSWA to PRIME to even HERE, in EPW, I'm given employment BECAUSE of who I know. Nepotism at it's finest.

    (Davis blinks rapidly.)

    TONY DAVIS: When an American child reaches 14, by average they have seen at least 10,000 murders on television.

    (Davis shakes his head, clearing the cobwebs. He smacks the side of his ear guard.)

    TONY DAVIS: And I have LONG suffered for the sins of my brother. I have been labeled as a JOKE, and I guess my disinterest lead to that self ful-filling prophecy. Plus my little sold self titled debut album in 1997 which made Brian Austin Green Mozart.

    (Davis blinks repeatedly.)

    TONY DAVIS:
    An early version of the trombone was called a sackbut.

    (Davis squints, and widens his eyes.)

    TONY DAVIS: But in Philadelphia, I get my chance to finally outshine some of the greatest athletes in this sport. From my psychotic brother in law to the living skeletor legend of Eli Flair, to the returning flyest man alive, Shawn Jessica Hart.

    (Davis smiles, and rings his hands together.)

    TONY DAVIS: And I can't WAIT to show the world just WHAT the original Degenerate has. What the 1988 Olympic hopeful has to show the world. Because when I'm motivated, I can wrap you like a pretzel, and take chomp just for fun.

    What can I say? Jack's kinda rubbed off on me.

    (Davis smiles.)

    TONY DAVIS: And I think Jack and I have the same goal. I think he's gonna underestimate me. Which means Team VIAGRA can band together, and eliminate EVERYONE, until JACK feels he's got the EASY way into Wrestleverse.

    (Davis laughs.)

    TONY DAVIS: Going through ME. Which Jack, might I remind you, we've had some EPIC wars. Remember back in 2001 when I put you on the shelf for four months? Remember when I ASSAULTED front office personal in an effort to DESTROY the our HOME? You're Lunatic schtick was stolen STRAIGHT from my playbook. YOU'RE WELCOME.

    (Davis blinks rapidly.)

    TONY DAVIS: The side effects of typical anti-psychotic medication include dry mouth, constipation, and restlessness.


    (Davis sneers, and pounds his forehead.)

    TONY DAVIS: Restless. That's exactly what I've become. Restless... waiting in the wings for my opportunity. At Aggression 75? I get my chance to TAKE it.

    (Tony laughs.)

    TONY DAVIS: And maybe I'll get to eliminate Aaron Jones for kicks on my way to Wrestleverse. That guy is just hilarious. He just keeps TRYING.

    Maybe he'll survive, somehow beat me, and main event Wrestleverse?

    (Davis walks off, laughing.)

    TONY DAVIS: Sorry, I can't keep going. Come back to me later!

    (FADEOUT.)
    NFW World / LoC Legacy Champion Jack Harmen, Tony Davis, & Mary-Lynn Mayweather
    The Pop Culture Phenoms (The D, Klein w/ Elise Ares)
    NFW | Defiance | LoC | nbW

  3. #3
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    Re: Aggression 75 Battle Royal

    "Ask and I shall receive."

    (Fadein, Cameron Cruise in a grey, cursive-fonted-EPW Aggression backdrop, dressed in a blue shirt, black sports coat and matching blue Anarchy-style shades.)

    CRUISE: It's been a long time coming, and to get the revenge that I need...to get back what I want...what I DESERVE...

    I get to take on about 15 other men in a Battle Royal at Aggression 75 for the OPPORTUNITY...to get that chance.

    Now, I know what you're all thinkin'... if this wasn't Empire Pro Wrestling, the best this industry has to offer in the business of professional wrestling, this might sound like a bad Miley Cyrus-sex-tape in the making.

    In fact, word has it that it's a bad MUSE tape in the making, but that's all that it is that I know of, just heresay, you might wanna ask Castor about that later.

    But for now...let's keep to the subject at hand, shall we??

    The Battle Royal.

    I've been in quite a number of these over the course of my career...but only in the one coming EPW Aggression 75 can you find THE Eli Flair...Rocko Daymon...Jack Harmen and Tony Davis....Christian Light....Aaron Jones and the Dragons, Otaku and Karl Brown.

    Christian Light, lord knows...what I've heard and seen about you has only been on video tape. Not that I don't give a damn about you as a competitor, but to be honest...

    I'm just that busy.

    Rocko....boy-oh-boy...that's a face I never thought I'd see again, but that's okay. We've had our battles before and I'm sure we'll have afew more before we're done. He knows what to expect from me, and likewise what I can expect from him.

    Aaron Jones. Ya know, people have bagged on this man ALMOST more than people bagged on Mark Sanchez. A sad state of affairs, but the fact is that it's unfair but true. Aaron Jones has been seen as a non-factor by some and even a pre-judged victory by others...a "BYE-WEEK", if you will. But he's no pushover folks, Aaron has the fight in him to make people look twice.

    The problem with that for me, is that I can't afford to take that chance.

    I can't afford to be lackadaisical, or sloppy, in this match, I just can't. Fortunately for you Aaron, should we cross paths in this match, it won't be personal.

    (Cruise takes his shades off a second)

    Then we got guys like...Tony Davis and Jack Harmen.

    One of the two men in this match that faired better than I in the World Tournament last year.

    Coincidently won by my "New Boss", Castor.

    You guys are already competing earlier in the night, but that's where I have issue, fellas.

    See...Jack you've done better elsewhere in this business and good on you for it, pats on the back are a dime-a-dozen where you live, I'm sure.

    I can't seem to remember just how it is you got back IN to this company, how you managed to gain another paycheck from Dan Ryan. I mean...didn't I beat Tony and consequently fire your ass??

    It's fine though. Adversity is an asshole, but so am I.

    The rest of you are gonna remember that soon enough, and THAT...is a Reality Check you just...won't like.

    FADEOUT
    Cameron Cruise: EPW's First and Only Grand Slam Winner

    Erik Mateo: Former LVW Hardcore Champion

    ____________________
    San Francisco Giants
    Indianapolis Colts
    Fresno State Bulldogs

  4. #4
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    Prim and Proper

    (FADEIN: A cluttered, sloppy office. It's not dirty, just intensely lived in - lived in, intensely, for short periods of time. Three file cabinets are overstuffed with paperwork, and a computer is running at what sounds like overtime.

    The faint sounds of "Wolf Moon" by Type-O-Negative can be heard somewhere in the background.

    In a high - backed, duct-tape repaired office desk chair, is the Manager of Champions herself, Ivy McGinnis. She sits perpendicular to the camera's view, writing something out of view. Finally, after a good fifteen seconds of awkward silence, she turns to face the camera.)

    McGINNIS: Oh, hi there Empire Pro Wrestling, I didn't see you there.

    (Exaggerated wink. It's a TV spot, after all.)

    I can't tell you how excited we are - we, being Team Extreme, myself and Eli Flair - to have the opportunity to earn a shot at the EPW World Championship at Wrestleverse.

    Wrestleverse, of course, is the pinnacle of the EPW year; to headline that event is something you can't buy, steal, live vicariously through, or relate to. You have to just do it.

    (Ivy picked up a piece of paper from the desk and unfolded it, adjusting her glasses in the process.)

    To that end, I have a prepared statement from the King of Extreme himself, if you'll indulge me?

    (She cleared her throat.)

    'I am pleased to have earned the opportunity to wrestle at a seminal event such as the seventy - fifth edition of Aggression, in order to earn a shot at the Empire Pro Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship. With the fine quality of opponent involved, I know this will be a difficult match to make it through to the end, and the looming spectre of a qualifying match at the end of it all is daunting, to say the least.'

    'While I appreciate and respect the talents and efforts of the other athletes in this battle royal, the fact remains that none of them have the will to win that I do. None of them have the drive, the desire, or the tunnel vision to focus on one end goal with nothing external affecting it. Rocko Daymon wants to redeem his name by becoming the EPW World Champion one more time, but he's clouded by redemption. Cameron Cruise wants to be the World Champion for more than a beer - filled, stumbling drunk pissing session; he's clouded by trying to cling to relevancy.'

    'The rest of the sheet can't hold a candle to what I can do, and they can't match my drive.'

    'I don't want it to sound like I'm telling the rest of the EPW that they suck; quite the contrary this is an embedded, entrenched and talented roster.'

    'I'm simply above them right now.'

    'Am I that effin' good? No. But I'm that effin' driven. And every single opponent that shows up for this match will be a victim; even the other winner.'

    'Except Aaron Jones. I want to see him succeed. And if I don't make it to the finish line, I want him to do so and shock the world.'

    'I have Aaron Jones' back. The rest of you are in serious trouble.'

    (Ivy looked up from the paper.)

    I'd say that's pretty succinct, yes? I should be honest, I rewrote a bunch of that. As the entire wrestling world knows -

    - because as much as Eli Flair is overlooked as a force of nature in this sport, everyone knows his name -


    - Eli dropped out of school. He's not very well educated in the formal sense of the word, so for things like prepared statements he looks to me, his management, his best friend who went to MIT, to polish his words. But don't let the polish affect the intensity of his message.

    We didn't come to this company for a feel - good nostalgia tour. We came to this company to own it, like we've owned every other company that we've come to. Sometimes it comes as naturally as spitting in poor little brian's face, sometimes it's difficult and requires an hour with the Ultratitle champion. But we always make our mark.

    Now, I'm sure a lot of you idiots will come outta the woodwork and tell us that Eli's old, washed up, past his prime, and bla bla blah. Keep it up.

    Cause it doesn't make him look bad when Eli Flair, the old, washed up, past his prime, sad remnant of a wrestler drops everyone from the ring, even the guy who, quote, wins along with him. Because that only lasts until 76.

    Don't feel bad, Empire guys... some'a the best wrestlers in the world turned out to have no way to counter what Eli can do in the ring.

    It's not political... it's inevitable.

    (She got up and left the room past the cameraman. The camera stayed focused on her spot for a second or two, then it moved in to look at the prepared statement from Eli Flair.

    The statement read thus: )
    Empire Pro Wrestling
    You're all going to fall.
    I will become EPW World Champion
    at Wrestleverse.
    Fuck you, and fuck your mothers.
    -Eli Flair



    (The camera focused on it for a few seconds, and FADEOUT.)
    Last edited by User Poets; 10-20-13 at 01:26 PM.
    "Every generation needs a revolution." - Magnetic Poetry (original)

  5. #5
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    Re: Prim and Proper

    (FADEIN: Jack Harmen on a street corner holding a newspaper. He looks like he's out of the Newsies.)

    Jack Harmen: Extra extra! Read all about it! Eli Flair is a confirmed necropheliac!

    (Harmen holds up a newspaper to a passing couple. It has Eli's picture on it.)

    Jack Harmen: Sir or madam, would you let this man fuck your deceased mother?

    (Harmen is promptly punched in the face. The couple walks off.)

    Jack Harmen: I'll take that as a no!

    (FADEOUT.)
    NFW World / LoC Legacy Champion Jack Harmen, Tony Davis, & Mary-Lynn Mayweather
    The Pop Culture Phenoms (The D, Klein w/ Elise Ares)
    NFW | Defiance | LoC | nbW

  6. #6
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    Re: Prim and Proper

    (Fadein, Cameron Cruise in front of a similar backdrop, dressed however in a white sport coat and black shirt and slacks with matching Anarchy shades. Let's not make any assumptions though, Miami Vice wasn't his favorite show on Television, he leaves that category for the likes of Shawn Hart and Jack Harmen to debate. Not Cruise's taste in television programming, but the show itself.)

    CRUISE: Statements and laments. That's the Em-Oh apparently, these days.

    Tony Davis likes to speak for Jack and likewise for Ivy on Eli.

    It's true, no one has any social graces anymore. I can't speak directly to people without them going through a Pee-Are or a piece of paper, and then they won't have the courtesy of looking me in the eye afterward.

    Nevertheless, I still make waves.

    Ivy, I'm happy that Team Extreme still has you at the front line, there's nothing like going through the agent of a talent that SHOULDN'T need someone to pass notes like you're in Study Hall, when even the most remote monsters that step in the squared circle can at least pound their chest and grunt before looking up and cursing at the sky at invisible airplanes.

    Hell, even "The Avengers" had Hulk, the silent hero steal the film-line quote at the end.

    "Puny God."

    Not exactly different in this case, is it??

    "Me legend. You loser. Ooh-gah-boo-gah."

    (quoting)

    "'While I appreciate and respect the talents and efforts of the other athletes in this battle royal, the fact remains that none of them have the will to win that I do. None of them have the drive, the desire, or the tunnel vision to focus on one end goal with nothing external affecting it."

    (Cruise shrugs)

    Bitch, do you even WATCH Empire Pro Television??

    You and Eli didn't come for a nostalgia-tour, but the same sad truth comes with where ever you DO go.

    You want one more run.

    Wonderful, just admit as much and be done with it, because everyone else can see it as such.

    I mean, hasn't Eli retired about twelve times now? Mind you, I'm trying to be sarcastic on the number, but then again, I never did pay attention to that either.

    Bring on Lucky thirteen.

    I'm in this to be World Champion, and you think it's just because I want to cling to RELEVANCY??

    There's a pot and kettle lying around here somewhere, but I'll let you find it, since Eli has you doing the rest of his chores for him too.

    What's an extra five minutes to your day??

    Then again, maybe we'll find out at Aggression 76, what it is.

    Either way is a REALITY CHECK, that you just...won't like.

    FADEOUT
    Cameron Cruise: EPW's First and Only Grand Slam Winner

    Erik Mateo: Former LVW Hardcore Champion

    ____________________
    San Francisco Giants
    Indianapolis Colts
    Fresno State Bulldogs

  7. #7
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    (We fade in on a basic shot of the locker room in the gym that's become a fixture of Aaron Jones' videos. Jones himself, having just flipped on the camera, takes a few steps back and faces it)

    Aaron Jones: Here we go. This is going to be my first real attempt at video editing, so I hope you'll all give me some leeway.

    (The shot fades into one at mat-level next to the training ring. The camera is just far enough away from the ropes that a blue crash mat is visible outside the ring. Because of the camera angle and the lack of focus on faraway action, we can't really make out much that's happening in the ring until the two people in it suddenly get closer. A second or two later, Jones is launched over the top rope and onto the crash mat by an unidentified person in the ring to a burst of loud, good-natured laughter from several others. Jones, unfazed thanks to his soft landing, quickly pops back up and looks into the camera)

    Jones: 0 for 1!

    (Jones heads off-camera to the side of the ring as the image fades back into the locker room)

    Jones: I've sure had the opportunity to be part of some interesting matches since I've become an active competitor in EPW. Tag matches, triple threats, steel cage matches, even that seven-man, every-man-for-himself hardcore match for the Television Title.

    I guess a battle royal is the next logical step. And if I'm going to be ready to take that step, I need to make sure I don't trip over my own feet in the process.

    Thus all the throwing.

    (There's a quick set of three cuts, each showing Jones getting tossed over the top rope onto the crash mat; then the focus shifts back to the locker room)

    Jones: I expect I'm going to be seen as a bit of an easy target in this one. And not for cynical reasons, necessarily. Fact is, all the other entrants are bigger than I am -- some decidedly so -- and I've seen enough of these things to know how spectacularly someone of my size and stature can get launched to oblivion.

    So I needed a strategy. If I can't stop them from seizing every opportunity to chuck me out of there, I figure I'd best learn how to hang on.

    On the one hand, I don't have a whole lot of weight to keep off the ground, so that helps. But I also don't have the raw power of a Cameron Cruise or an Eli Flair or a Malcolm Joseph-Jones, which makes things somewhat more challenging.

    Thus all the falling.

    (There's another four quick jump cuts of Jones being thrown over the top onto the crash mat. After the last one, he's a little slower to get up than he was the first time, but he still quickly pops back up for more)

    Jones: 0 for 8!

    (The camera fades back to the locker room)

    Jones: It's repetitive, it wears on you pretty quickly, and you fail a lot at first. But it's rare to find a type of training specifically tailored for a type of match, so it's nice to be able to try something new.

    And besides, this kind of match actually plays to one of my strengths. I can't pass up that opportunity.

    I'm not about to go on a foe-tossing charge in this thing. Neither am I likely to escape notice for very long.

    But almost every battle royal I've ever seen -- at least the ones with sizable line-ups, like the one at Aggression 75 has -- has, in the end, been a matter of survival.

    (Another handful of jump cuts, another few shots of Jones getting chucked over the top rope onto the crash mat. He almost manages to hang on one of the times, but his grip gives out before he can get out of trouble. Then we fade back to the locker room)

    Jones: And I'd like to think surviving has been one of my greater accomplishments so far.

    It hasn't won me any matches, but it's kept me stepping into the ring every time EPW sets it up again.

    And I'd like to think it's helped turn a few heads, if nothing else. Four of the other entrants in the battle royal have spoken up so far, and two of them have actually had nice things to say about me.

    There sure wasn't any of that talk back when I first decided I wanted to wrestle.

    Not that I really blame anyone for doubting the minimally-trained son of a referee who'd spent the last couple of years doing the dirty work of an egomaniacal, hypocritical sociopath. The onus was on me to change their minds, and I think I have, even if only a little bit.

    (Another series of jump cuts depicts Jones showing a little more success, but he's still not able to pull himself back in the ring. He actually manages to cling to the ropes in the last shot, but he's only able to hang there, and the guy who threw him over is able to easily knock him off. Back to the locker room)

    Jones: Now, at Aggression 75, I have the chance to change a lot of minds, and quickly at that.

    Two matches, and I'm in the main event at Wrestleverse, challenging for the EPW World Heavyweight Title.

    I'm not looking to get ahead of myself here. Out of everyone in this battle royal, I probably have more reasons than anyone to doubt the happy scenario I just presented.

    But all oddsmaking aside, it is an incredible opportunity, especially for someone in my position.

    And even if I don't tend to succeed, I do not believe in passing up opportunities.

    It's a tough line-up, no doubt. And even if it's only two matches from here to Wrestleverse, those two matches are still a long way to go.

    Am I ready to go that distance? We won't know until Aggression 75, I guess.

    But that distance is laid out in front of me, and I do not intend to step off that path.

    There are a million ways I might be forced off of it, but I have no intention to deviate.

    Maybe -- just maybe -- I'll surprise everyone.

    Having lasted this long, I've already done it once.

    (Another series of jump cuts shows Jones being thrown over the top onto the crash mat. But in the very last one, he manages to hang onto the top rope, swing his legs onto the apron and roll back into the ring. Some cheering from individuals around the ring ensues as Jones gets back to his feet)

    Jones: Piece of cake!

    (A few laughs from the other folks in the gym, and Jones goes back over to the other person in the ring as we fade to black)
    God, that old signature was getting annoying.

  8. #8
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    Re: Aggression 75 Battle Royal

    But I have yet another greater problem to face at Aggression 75. A far more difficult challenge but one I relish far more.

    [Haughton’s wandering eyes and gesturing hands returned once more to centre]

    The Battle Royal.

    [I’d advise you all to go look here, to see the start of this little piece of showmanship but to recap, Haughton’s in a dark room, sitting at a table with a single white light shining from above. He has a hammer held in his right hand, and so far has been chatting for the most part about his up and coming three-way dance with Light and MJ2. That is until now.]

    Since I was a kid I've loved this sport, and like many of the other wrestlers in this promotion I grew up watching wrestling on T.V. I loved all of it, and my favourite match, the one I loved more than any other was the Battle Royal. See I've always had penchant for drama. You might have been able to tell. And the Battle Royal brings it by the bucket load. An entire roster going toe to toe with each other, the surprise appearances, and the crazy do or die ways that some wrestlers manage to stop themselves from getting eliminated.

    But its more than that, it gives the opportunity for one good man to rise through the ranks. A man with enough heart, enough spirit to keep fighting when no other can. To put his body to the limit and survive. The battle royal levels the playing field and pitches rookies against legends.

    And in this Battle royal I get a shot at taking down any man who would wreck this company by cheating his way to the top. See I plan to sweep through this entire roster in the ring. Good or bad, I’m going to knock you over that top rope. As I’ve said before now, to make a change I’m going to have to reach the top and as far as I see it Castor strife has set up a great big ladder for me to climb.

    At the rumble I’m going to put my all into being that one good man who has the strength to prevail, and make it to the end. And if I don’t manage to make it through the scores of wrestlers I’ll be fighting, I’m going to make sure I dispatch some swift judgement on a select few before they can eliminate me.

    No matter what though I can guarantee one thing, when I’m put in that ring with both some of the greatest and worst specimens the wrestling world has to offer, they all should be watching their backs because...

    [The hammer rises above the table ready to strike]

    Judgement

    [one]

    Is

    [two]

    Coming.

    [Three]

    [Lights out.]
    Handling:

    Jerimiah Rainwood- DEFIANCE

    James "Judgement" Haughton- EPW

  9. #9
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    The Best

    (CUE UP: "In Illusions of Order" by Red Sparowes.)

    (We fade into the Philadelphia arena's visitor center, which has been set up in the weeks leading up to the big event to host a special exhibit documenting the decade-long existence of Empire Pro Wrestling, spanning from Aggression 1 to the upcoming Aggression 75. It's after hours, as indicated by many of the lights being off, but ROCKO DAYMON emerges from the silence of the shadows, stoically walking through a trip down memory lane.)

    Rocko Daymon
    Hard to believe that Empire Pro has made it to its seventy-fifth installment of Aggression. And even harder to believe that I'd still be around to see such a landmark occasion.

    I'm proud to say I'm one of very few involved in this show who was there at the Verizon Center in the nation's capital for Aggression 1. Of course, it was called the MCI Center back then. So much has happened over the years since then, and so much has changed.

    And yet... some things are still the same.

    (His eyes find a publicity poster advertisement displayed on a frame and hung on the wall. It's promoting Aggression 3, which took place a little less than ten years ago in that very building. The focal point of poster shows the graphic of the two men who would meet in the main event: ROCKO DAYMON and MAELSTROM.)

    Rocko Daymon
    I haven't forgotten the last time an unstoppable juggernaut came to this company... but while Maelstrom may be the biggest Never-Was in EPW's great history, I find myself here nearly a decade later, with the next evolution of monster professional wrestler set upon the Empire.

    And still, history repeated itself at Aggression 74, when I fell to that monster.

    (Daymon moves along through the exhibit, coming along a line of card-board cut-outs that display a chronological history of the Empire Pro World Heavyweight Championship, starting with the inaugural champ, CHRISTIAN SANDS. Rocko narrows his eyes on the cardboard likeness of Sands, bearing his natural smirk and the belt over his shoulder. He hasn't forgotten how the events that transpired in the main event of Aggression 3 denied his own chances at being the first to touch EPW's esteemed title.)

    Rocko Daymon
    Despite all these years of mustering forth all of this drive and passion and commitment toward excellence... I keep falling short, like I was nothing more than another body to add to the pile.

    Some would probably suggest that it's a clear sign that I'm simply not at that "level" of talent and competitiveness, or whatever... but it's still disappointing, all the same. When some outsider strides into this place and drops me like any other curtain-jerker and walks out of there like it was just another day in the office... it doesn't sit well with me.

    (He advances further down the line by a few years, pausing ever briefly on the cut-out of "Triple X" Sean Stevens, before stopping again at his own brief reign as champion, remembering that at one time, he was the Usurper to the King.)

    Rocko Daymon
    I'm the man they call "the Undying", and a former World Heavyweight Champion... and with those kind of credentials, I should live up to certain standards of greatness each and every time I step through those ropes. If I inevitably have to go down, at the very least, I'm going to make the man that pins me put up the fight of his life.

    (He keeps moving on down the line, moving on from his own cardboard likeness from years past and the legacy that went with it. He leaves that time behind, like ancient history.)

    Rocko Daymon
    But... that didn't happen at Aggression 74. The fans didn't get to see "the Undying" icon they had grown to know over the years. Perhaps that says something about the King of Extreme's almost superhuman ability to dominate any opponent in front of him. Or maybe my mind simply wasn't in the right place, after just having crossed paths with my ex-wife just a few minutes prior to that match, and becoming distressed with seeing her in the state she's in.

    (He shakes his head, wiping it from memory.)

    Rocko Daymon
    In any affect, I can't overlook the fact that the fault here is my own. I should have been more focused... and I should have been more prepared for what I was up against. I made a mistake against a man who makes you pay for mistakes in spades. And because of that, a former champion of the greatest professional wrestling company on the planet was made to look like a green-faced journeyman wrestler looking to eat the mat for the paycheck.

    But sometimes, you gotta fail in order to make yourself better. Such has been the case for every other time I've come up short in the past. My small failures only inspire me to make greater successes.

    (He stops again at the cardboard cut-out of The First, in his most modern attire. We're back up at present day.)

    Rocko Daymon
    And that's what I'm hoping to achieve in the battle royal at Aggression 75. I'm motivated more than ever, to win back my title...

    ...and to ensure that what happened back in Indianapolis will never happen again.

    (He walks over to a large-scale poster of the Aggression logo, stylized in a chrome finish with the number 75 radiating off to the side in gold. He steps in front of it to use it as a backdrop and redirects his attention to the camera.)

    Rocko Daymon
    No doubt about it... I'm walking into the greatest challenge of my career. Empire Pro has never boasted a greater roster in all of its existence than it does today, and every man involved in this match is fighting for the same thing I've been grinding my way toward the better part of the past year -- a chance at the EPW World Championship. We all have our respective reasons and motivations for working toward achieving that goal, but ultimately, only two men will find the way to rise above the rest of that locker room and move on to Aggression 76.

    And with a match of this scale, I know it won't come down to who is the most talented, or who is the most driven, or who has more at stake... but simply, who can best hold his ground and survive the storm of bodies and brutality.

    Some are working hard to prepare for that feat... and others are already confident that they can pull it off without too much stress on their end. I'm doing my best to try and cover both ends. I have a knack at thriving in these kind of situations, but still... it pays to be prepared for whatever may come.

    Because this isn't some petty match where only pride is on the line; this is about the GOLD... and every person stepping into that ring is consciously standing in the way to my mission to retake the title. Up until now, I haven't had sufficient reason to take off the gloves and properly unleash my gift of rage. But walking into a monumental event like Aggression 75, there's no better time to make it happen than now.

    It's time to show this federation what ten years of professional wrestling excellence really stands for.

    It's time to show the people what a true former champion fights like.

    With all due respect to everybody else involved... I plain refuse to let anybody succeed in this match if they don't represent this federation's standard of excellence. Only the BEST will move on to challenge the title. And know right now, I plan to go out there and be the very best I've ever been in my fifteen-year long career.

    Better than the man that refused to tap out at Aggression 3.

    Better than the man who won the World Heavyweight Title at Black Dawn 2008.

    And better than the man that fell once again at Aggression 74.

    Every set-back and loss I've suffered over my life has led me to this point, to be the man that I am. Whether or not that makes me "the best" in all of Empire Pro remains to be seen... and that will all be determined once this battle royal finally takes place. But even though it's been a number of years since I've carried the belt, every person walking into that ring had better expect to overcome the same level of passion and competitiveness that any champion would put forward in any effort to defend his title.

    I'm going to fight as though I were the best... because to get to that next level, you have to be BETTER than the best.

    For no other reason than this is the BEST federation on the damn planet, and anything less would be considered an insult to the decade of pain, pride, and perseverance that was sacrificed for us all to be here at this moment in time.

    So come on and BRING IT, if you think you have what it takes... because the legend of Rocko Daymon, and EPW's reign at the top, aren't going to die any time soon!

    (Fade to black.)

  10. #10
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    Puny Cameron

    (FADEIN: A large, well - kept house in Warwick, New York. It's decorated to the nines for Halloween: candlebras lining the entranceway, decals on the windows, one of those motion - sensor witches just off to the side of the front door, pretty much JUST far enough away so that it doesn't go off every time you walk in the door.

    Moving farther into the house, to the immediate left is a spacious living room with pictures framed and hanging all over the place; the centerpiece hanging over a fireplace, an original painting by Joey James, possibly the greatest alternative artist of this decade, if not this century. To the right is a posh, modern dining room with a tablecloth on the table and some very nice china in a cabinet.

    This house is home to two cats: leaving nice thing out would be silly.

    Moving along, we get to a random door with a keypad for a lock. This door leads to 'Fire Water Studios' which is where Valerian's Garden records all their albums and the band's infinitely talented keyboard player, Nine, has worked as a producer for countless indie bands.

    How cutting edge is the studio? Steve Albini himself relocated here for two weeks this past summer whne Electrical Audio had some work done.

    Farther in is the oversized kitchen. There's a package on the island that contains the sinks and dishwasher to the right, and a King of Extreme sitting at the table lacing up his boots to the left.

    The cameraperson zoomed in on the package - it's addressed to Aaron Jones, c/o Empire Pro Wrestling with the address pixelated. We don't want fans upon fans to show up and sack the place, after all.)

    "It's a camera."

    (The video went from the package back to Eli Flair, his boots tied, sitting at the table.)

    ELI FLAIR: It's a camera in there. I saw Aaron Jones' last promo and his camera was a little cheap, it kept falling over. So I went out 'n got 'em a new digital camera and tripod. Same brand so they fit together 'n all that shit, so he can cut a promo without the technical difficulties.

    Why am I helpin' out the kid? He's got potential, combined with nobody believin' that he can do it. I've always enjoyed stickin' it to the status quo, and I've got faith that Aaron Jones can do somethin' amazing at Aggression.

    Maybe... not quite as amazin' as what I intend t'do, but at the end'a the day Aaron Jones needs to succeed or fail in the ring'a his own accord, just like the rest've us.

    Which, of course, is the funny thing about Cameron Cruise. And Jack Harmen, for that matter.

    Think about it.

    I took ten seconds to write down something insulting every wrestler involved in the battle royal, and McGinnis took the piss outta every one'a you by ad - libbin' five minutes'a promo with less than thirty words' guide.

    Harmen bit, and it was a typical hilarious Harmen bit. Cameron Cruise bit, and it was also a typical Cameron Cruise bit.

    ...

    That ain't a compliment.

    (From off camera, a young girl of about ten years old entered the frame. This would be Eli Flair's daughter, Mariella Jade.)

    MJ FLAIR: Daddy, when are you going to the post office?

    ELI: In a few minutes, honey.

    MJ: Can I come?

    ELI: Sure.

    MJ: And afterward, can we go to Vintage Vinyl?

    (Eli laughed.)

    ELI: I see what you did there. Sure, sweetie, we can go to Vintage Vinyl.

    (MJ left the room, going out the back door to the large and open backyard.)

    ELI: Let me get this straight, Cameron.

    You're gonna be there at the end'a this Battle Royal, and you're gonna win the title shot... because you deserve it?

    You were the World Champion for less time than it takes to play a standard music video, and you're treatin' that shit like you were fuckin' Bruno.

    I've been sayin' it for years, but even Carl Brigsby and Wesley Paige, up in the CSWA, held the tag team belts at one point. The point, Cameron, is that a belt doesn't mean shit if the man holdin' the belt doesn't mean shit.

    Are you irrelevant?

    Yes. Yes you are.

    Y'see, Cameron - the belt in this business, refers to the man who can make it mean something. Have you ever made it mean something?

    No, you haven't. In fairness, you didn't get a chance to, since you lost the belt back to poor little brian about five minutes after you won. But ever since then, you haven't really done anything to win it back, have you?

    You asked McGinnis if she and I watch this company's program. Yes, we do. Mainly because we both wanted to see what Stevens did to redefine what it means to be a champion, and then we saw your cup'a coffee.

    I know you think that holding the belt means you matter, Cameron... but five minutes without a go-home moment means fuck all to this industry. But of course, that have you the impetus to say that you deserve to be World Champion. You deserve to have your rematch against poor little brian.

    Therein lies the reason why you'll never be a great wrestler.

    The fact'a the matter is, Cameron - you don't deserve shit. You don't deserve to walk through the door of the locker room, you don't deserve to enter an arena through the entrance ramp, and you certainly don't deserve t'step between the ropes.

    Have you earned the right to do so? That's another question, but it's one I've never seen you actually address. As a former World Champion...

    (To wit, Eli rolled his eyes.)

    ... then yes, you have earned a rematch.

    But 'deserve'?

    Like everything else in your career, Cameron, you don't want to work for anything. You want everything handed to you on a silver platter because you deserve it.

    You've earned a rematch with poor little brian because you held the title for approximately as long as a top forty hit, then why didn't you take it?

    It's the same thing you've done your entire career, Cameron - a career I've been around for its entire space'a time. Why didn't you tell Danno that you wanted your rematch, and you wanted it right damn now?

    'Because I'm Cameron Cruise, and I shouldn't have to ask for the things I want, I should be given them with apologies that it took so long.'

    Do I deserve a World Title shot? Hell no. That's why I'm gonna walk into the battle royal at Aggression 75 and walk out of Aggression 76 with one secured.

    I'm going to earn it.

    It's what I've done for almost twenty years now, Cameron... through the top'a the card t'the bottom'a the card and through six hundred and fifty three separate instances of retirement.

    Why have I come back? Why do I keep coming back?

    One more run?

    The fuck does that even mean?

    I came back because I want to. The stupid idea of 'Well, once you retire you can't come back!' is one of narrow, unenlightened bullshit. In my opinion, if you can still do what you do and do it well, who's t'tell you that y'can't? T'date, I haven't seen a single sign that I'm past my expiration date.

    Pot, kettle, black, Cameron? It's interesting that you'd use my own phrase against me.

    Interesting, not surprising.

    After all, you've always taken your best ideas from other places.

    Puny god.

    Is it any wonder that the class'a people who thinks Cameron Cruise deserves the EPW World Title has a population of one? I don't know the last time you and your career even approached reality, much less got close enough t'check it.

    Maybe you should start praying again.

    (With that, Eli Flair got up and walked out the back door of the house, and we FADEOUT)
    "Every generation needs a revolution." - Magnetic Poetry (original)

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    Transformations

    FADE IN:

    The instrumental track of "Cherry Lips" by Garbage plays.

    CLOSE ON: A jade cigarette holder resting between the middle and index fingers of a silken-gloved hand as a flame ignites the Lucky Strike cigarette held within.

    CUT TO: A pair of moist, pouty lips as a similarly-gloved hand applies a shade of blood red lipstick to them. After the mouth's border shines crimson, the lips leave a kiss for the camera.

    CUT TO: Glowing green eyes, surrounded by lashes of seemingly infinite length and deep shadowy make-up.

    CUT TO: A wider shot of what must be the woman in question; her body seated atop a tall, black bar stool and her body turned in such a way that her face remains mostly unseen, but resting at just the right angle to reveal an impossibly sinuous figure sheathed by a tweed swing dress by Veronica Beard or some such swanky designer.

    After taking a short, somewhat dainty puff from her cigarette, the music quiets and the woman speaks in a soft, sultry tone.


    WOMAN: "Every so often...in this topsy-turvy, crazy-brazy business of show, some faded star will reemerge into the public consciousness with a comeback hit. A song, a guest spot, a summer blockbuster--SOMETHING that shoots out from the ether and SCREAMS-"

    She takes inhales once more, then lets the smoke out slowly. **PUFF PUFF**

    WOMAN: "I'm still here, baby. I'm still relevant.... Like Travolta's turn in Pulp Fiction...or Britney bringin' a l'il insanity to Idol."

    She giggles to herself.

    WOMAN: "Now, I don't know what it is...because *this* boy was rollin' 'round that canvas every day of the week and TWICE on Sundays for more promotions than any average 'rasslin fan could even name, but for some reason...in the Empire Pro Wrestling side of the showbiz spectrum, this is the spot the SHAWN JESSICA HART has always been found in..."

    She pauses for a beat and runs a hand through her flowing blonde locks and on down her neck and shoulder.

    WOMAN: "Despite the titles, the tales of triumph and tragedy that have made his torrid career in sports and entertainment what it is, ol' SJH always seems to be on the comeback trail here.

    Always reappearing. Reinventing. Re-imagining himself to appease the masses that make this place their perfect diversion after a long day's work, their appointment television, the spectacle with which they find their escape from the begrudgery of a 9-to-5 life.

    But beyond all'a that, he did so to appease himself. To let his freak flag wave and know that he was doing all of it in his own way."

    *PUFF* *PUFF*

    WOMAN: "But like the old saying goes, anything worth doing...is worth doing WELL...

    **PUFF**

    WOMAN: "...And well, let's just say that old S-Jess has one more skeleton in that closet. One that's just ITCHIN' to COME OUT and say...."

    She takes a deep breath.

    WOMAN: "Hellooooooooo, nnnnndaddiooo...."

    She chuckles wryly to herself once again.

    WOMAN: "So on an anniversary of sorts, the seventy-fifth edition of AGGRESSION, S-Jess is gonna BARE ALL and get a l'il bit aggressive with a merry band of foes, some new...some old, but NONE of which are going to be prepared for what the one-time PHENOM is gonna hit 'em with.

    Be it Rocko Daymon, a guy he's tangled with and come out on both ends of the battle. Cute Cammy Cruise...

    ...Giggle...

    WOMAN: "...who has been both a brother-in-arms and a bitter rival. Or Eli Flair, Otaku, Karl Brown...any of the others, who may or may not have met the Shawnster in passing, but always remained firmly implanted on his radar as potential stumbling blocks on the runway to what he thought his legacy, his IMAGE... was or should be.

    She shakes her head.

    WOMAN: "Always tryin' to keep up with the Joneses, that guy...

    Or was it the Janes all along?"

    **PUFF PUFF**

    WOMAN: "Either way, the time has come for that candle in his heart to shine a light on those hidden parts. For the TITLE. For TRANSFORMATION. And for the TRUTH...hiding deeeeeep doooown inside."

    She removes the cigarette holder from her mouth and takes a slow, deep breath.

    WOMAN: "Wrestleverse.....here we come, baby!"

    FADE OUT.
    Ernie: "Aaand in the bathroom just now I thought of the promo that could have won it for me."
    Me: "Really?! Cuz it was.."the sh#t?" ziiiiiiiing!
    Ernie: "Lol. It was!"

    Brevity is the soul of wit.

  12. #12
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    Re: Transformations

    “Heh…heh heh…you’re all gonna hurt.”

    (FADE TO: Malcolm Joseph-Jones, arms crossed before a bright purple curtain. He seems, if you can believe it, even bigger than usual…a white button down shirt with sleeves rolled up is bursting at the seams; he completes his ensemble with electric purple suspenders, dark dress pants, incredibly stylish and not-at-all-hipsterish browline glasses, and his immaculate Van Dyke.

    Another man stands behind him, stage left, arms also crossed. He is significantly shorter in stature, though with Malcolm’s immense size he is likely average sized; an African American gentleman with a black on black on black suit and a black-and-purple striped tie, close-cropped hair, and white-rimmed glasses.)


    MJ2: “A big ol’ part of me thinks the promo part of this match is pointless. All I gotta do is FLEX, and the reasons for why I’m going to make the finals of this Battle Royal are gonna be obvious to the world.

    My advisor tells me you need to hear more. So I’ll spell it out for you.

    At least five of you are old as fuck, and your time as top dogs of this or ANY company are well into your past. And the thing that’s just so depressing about the whole thing is that y’all don’t even REALIZE you’re old dogs who can’t learn new tricks. You’re late-thirties-to-forties types who think you can hang with dudes in the prime of their lives, and you’re living in a dream world. Eli, Rocko, Shawn, Jack, Christian, I’m talking to you. You got all the talk, you got all the Encyclopedia Brittanica of bullshit in your past that you think is gonna be relevant at Aggression 75 in 2013 when you’re entering the ring with the arthritis in your knees and the hip replacements and the boring-as-hell BAGGAGE y’all bring with you, and I’m ready and able to snap all your brittle-ass ancient-history bones into flinders. I will put ALL y’all Old Yellers down if I have to.

    Two of y’all, I just intrinsically hate, and I will do everything in my God-given power to make sure y’all don’t make it out of this match on top. Aaron Jones…you even TOUCH me, and you’re out. Cameron Cruise…you know for a fact your win was bullshit, and you’ve been so afraid of my wrath that you’ve steered clear of EPW television for MONTHS. I should ask YOU – bitch, do you watch the show? I swear to God, one more line about Reality Checks that we just…won’t…like, and I’m going to take my size 13 electric purple boot and shove it so far up your rectum you’ll swear you swallowed an eggplant.

    At least four more of you are WAY the hell out of your depth, and y’all would be doing your careers a big ol’ favor by eliminating yourselves right away. Who the fuck is Olvir Arsvinnar? Magnus Destructo? I don’t care what sort of memorial run this is, what sort of run-of-nostalgic-hope run you think this is, if you get in my way, you’re going to get hurt. Badly. And Tony and Otaku – we all know what you are. Second fiddles in your own damn tag teams. Y’all got no hope of taking me out.

    Haughton won’t be able to avoid the inevitable in the triple threat match. Which leaves the one man where I don’t know what to say…Karl Brown.

    Karl Brown.

    You show, maybe I’ll see you at Aggression 76. You half-ass this shit, I don’t think I gotta spell it out for you.

    It’s inevitable, fellas. I’m winning the triple threat. I’m getting to the finals of the battle royal. Next chance I have at the TV title, I’m gonna murderdeath Rezin to take it.

    The chance I get at the World Title, I’m takin’ that too.

    And after Wrestleverse?

    You’re gonna see what the Era of Greatness is really all about – yours truly, draped in all the gold, covered in all the glory, showing the world why I’m THE man in EPW.

    And what it truly means to achieve greatness by any…means…necessary.”

    (Malcolm fist bumps the man standing behind him as they both walk off-screen.

    FTB)
    ---
    Henry Keyes, DEFIANCE

  13. #13
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    Time Out

    (FADEIN: Static.

    Burst static. Half a second, then a black screen.)

    "You're everything that's right with professional wrestling, Malcolm...

    "...and everything that's wrong with it."

    (CUTTO: An extreme close up on Eli Flair's head, his hair in his face - and his shoulders, showing a sleeveless black T-shirt. His surroundings are currently indecipherable.)

    ELI FLAIR: You're talented, kid. You're confident in your ability and you've got it in spades. I predict World Championships in your future, here or elsewhere.

    But you're very young... and you're very... very... stupid.

    (Static - cut.)

    MALCOLM JOSEPH-JONES: At least five of you are old as fuck, and your time as top dogs of this or ANY company are well into your past. And the thing that's just so depressing about the whole thing is that y'all don't even REALIZE you're old dogs who can't learn new tricks. You're late-thirties-to-forties types who think you can hang with dudes in the prime of their lives, and you're living in a dream world.

    (Static - cut.)

    FLAIR: Says who?

    Are you, a rookie, in the best position to decide that? Are you, a wet behind the ears greenhorn so goddamned smart that you can determine who's still got it and who doesn't?

    Keep up that line'a thinking, and while you're standin' in the ring, flexin' with your thumb up your ass, a bunch'a old men'll dump you over the top and leave you sittin' on the floor, wondering what happened.

    (He pushed his hair out of his face and the camera pulled back a bit - Eli is sitting in the control room of he and his wife's basement recording studio.)

    Truth be told, Jones, I agree with you - to a point. This is a young man's sport and anyone who's here t'get a paycheck based on who they used'ta be should get the fuck outta the way in favor'a the future.

    But who's to decide when it's time? D'you look at a man's age and make a judgment call, sight unseen?

    (He laughed.)

    The only reason I've made any comebacks t'this sport is because I can still go. Cameron Cruise likes to say that I just wanted one more run, whatever the fuck that means. Well, there's a lotta wrestlers sittin' at home who want one more run without the physical ability t'do so... the ones that decide t'step back into the ring regardless are the ones who embarass themselves.

    You want my spot, my notoriety, Jones? It ain't my job t'step aside and say 'Here ya go, slugger, I worked my ass off for nineteen years t'get to this point, but you're a young kid who knows how ta flex, so let me just give all this to you.' No, Jonesey... like all'a us 'old men' did, you're gonna have t'take it for yourself.

    Can you?

    I think we both know the answer t'that... though we've come t'different conclusions. The irony is that if you dump my ass over the top, sure, it might be a sign that the tank's finally empty. But when I dump yours... what's your excuse?

    You ain't the only one, though. Apparently, judgment is coming.

    (Smirks)

    James Haughton, you say you're a long time wrestling fan, but you're here t'take down anyone who'd cheat their way t'the top.

    Off subject, why haven't you taken down poor little brian yet?

    But there's only two rules in a Battle Royal, Jimmy. There's things you can do, and things you can't do.


    There ain't nothing I can't do.

    Rocko Daymon can attest t'that.

    Was that a low blow, Rocko? Apologies.

    Kind of, I don't really mean it.

    We'll figure this out one'a these days, Rocko... we've clashed twice so far since we both showed up at Unleashed: you won a four way match and I won a three way.

    I won by pinning you. You won by pinning Aaron. Does that make me better than you? Of course not. If I'm one'a the two men standing at the end of the battle royal and you're not, does that make me better than you? Of course not.

    We'll find a way t'balance the books at some point, Rocko. Who knows, maybe it'll be you'n me at Aggression 76 for the fourth spot?

    Wouldn't that be a hoot? You've got the wrestler'a today, Castor Strife, against the wrestler'a tomorrow, Impulse, against a skinny, pasty due just lucky to be there, in poor little brian. Only makes sense that the last spot should go t'one'a the old men that Jones thinks is past his prime.

    Of course, we'd have to be the final two athletes in the Battle Royal.

    But I ain't worried.

    The rest'a the field? They're a different story.

    (FADEOUT)
    "Every generation needs a revolution." - Magnetic Poetry (original)

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    Re: Time Out

    (We fade in on the same ring in the same gym we saw a few promos ago. The camera is set up at almost exactly the same angle, but you could swear that the picture and sound are both clearer than they were the last time. A crash mat is still set up outside the ring, and two figures are still visible in the ring. One -- who we can safely reason is Aaron Jones, based on his size -- stands with his back against the ropes. The other, who is unrecognizable, gets a running start and clotheslines Jones over the top rope, sending him onto the crash mat. Jones quickly pops back up to his feet, shakes off the cobwebs and hops back into the ring. We then fade -- again, much clearer! What's up with that? -- to the locker room, where Jones stands in front of the camera)

    Aaron Jones: You can't tell, but the other guy is wearing a pad on his arm, so I'm not getting nailed in the chest over and over again -- just learning how to save myself if I fall out of the ring backward.

    So this is, for all intents and purposes, Phase 2 of my battle royal training. I'm looking at all the ways somebody might try to chuck me out of this match so I can be prepared.

    I've watched enough tapes to know that there are about 1,000 ways that can happen, and the only thing that seems to save a given competitor from falling victim to one or the other is size -- which isn't an area in which I have a lot to work with.

    So I'm going for versatility. Versatility is key to survival in this kind of every-man-for-himself environment, or so I'm told, and survival is my No. 1 goal at Aggression 75.

    (We have a few jump cuts showing Jones getting clotheslined over the top and tumbling to the floor before cutting back to the locker room. And just look at that camera angle -- it's barely even jostled, so matter how substantial the impact!)

    Jones: Still, I can't be spending 24 hours a day until Aggression 75 getting thrown out of rings in various and sundry ways. So I'm also doing my best to understand what my competition is going to look like in there.

    With a chaotic match like a battle royal, I don't know for sure that it will help, but I can't imagine a scenario in which it will hurt.

    I'm no master ring psychologist, so I'm not going to lay out everybody's motivations or anything like that. My goal is survival, so I figured I'd start by determining attitudes toward me, specifically.

    On one hand, there are the guys who've actually had positive things to say about me.

    Cameron Cruise doesn't seem bent on my destruction, which is nice. I don't expect any favors, but thanks for not taking that old "You've got no chance in this match, why don't you just give up?" tack, Cameron.

    Eli Flair deserves a mention, too. Well, a mention and a demonstration.

    (Another few jump cuts show another few failed attempts by Jones at avoiding over-the-top-rope elimination)

    Jones: The camera looks great, so thanks for it.

    I hope you'll not be offended if I don't use any of its advanced features for a little while here; they take some time to figure out, and I've got other goals at the moment. But not having to start over when the camera tips over is a big time-saver.

    Of course, the sentiment that you've got my back is appreciated, too; I don't expect any help in there, but I'll sure not turn it down.

    After that, there are the guys in the middle.

    Some I've had the chance to watch lately, like Jack Harmen. Some I mainly know by reputation, like Shawn Hart. And besides Eli Flair, one I've actually gotten in the ring with: James "Judgment" Haughton, whose work I'm now intimately familiar with.

    But the folks I'll be keeping the closest eye on are the ones who clearly intend to target me.

    (Another few clothesline-over-the-top jump cuts are added in)

    Jones: Tony Davis seems likely to take a shot as soon as he gets the chance.

    But that list, I think it's safe to say, starts with Malcolm Joseph-Jones.

    Malcolm, I know you've never been fond of me. I'm fortunate in that, as I had hoped, your ambition was such that you didn't decide to target me after we were eliminated from the tournament. I'm not sure if that's a thankable action, but if it is, thanks.

    This is going to be your first chance to take out some of that frustration on me, and I don't expect you to resist that temptation.

    I'm not going to say I invite it. But I'm also not going to try to convince you otherwise.

    You know me, Malcolm. I'm not one to pick fights. I'm not one to throw out challenges. I'm not one to cause trouble.

    But I'm also not one to back down.

    You get a shot at me in this thing, I expect you to take it. But don't expect any different from me.

    After all, I've spent the entirety of my short career looking for a shot.

    I get one at Aggression 75, you'd best not believe for a second that I won't take it.

    I don't mean that as a threat against you, or against anyone else in this match. Threats aren't my thing, either.

    I just want to make sure you all know why I'm in this match -- and that I don't intend to be an easy target.

    The odds might be against me winning, but if you want me out of this thing, I intend to make it a challenge.

    (A jump cut back to the ring shows Jones being clotheslined over the top, but managing to land on the apron and pull himself back into the ring to a moderate level of cheers from the unseen folks watching around the ring. A second or two later, we cut to black)
    God, that old signature was getting annoying.

  15. #15
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    Letters to My Compatriots (But mos'ly Eli!) :)~

    FADE IN:

    A laptop screen bordered and adorned with decals of stars, rainbows and one featuring the smiling mug of former Alaska senator Mike Gravel enclosed in a bright, pink heart. On the screen itself, an email is being composed.

    TO: Battle Royale Buddiez ([e-mail address list REDACTED])
    FROM: SJH, PhD. ([e-mail address REDACTED])
    SUBJECT: What's the dealio with Eli Flair? I'm pretty sure I saw him trying to score some... [Extra long subject REDACTED]

    And in the message field, a blinking cursor.

    CUT TO: The keyboard, above which a pair of hands with extra-glittery, yellow nail polish crack their nuckles, then begin to type.

    CUT TO: The screen; as the keyboard clatters and the text begins to appear, a woman narrates the message as it is composed.


    WOMAN: "Dearest bros..."

    RETURN. RETURN. RETURN. New paragraph.

    WOMAN: "What upsy's? It's been a super long time since I've seen any of you, eh? Well, except for Eli Flair. I'm watching you on an FWO tape right now!"

    CUT TO: The keyboard, where the hands stop typing momentarily, tap rhythmically off to the side, then resume their keypad clattering.

    WOMAN: "And I have GOT to say, seeing you then...in all your most glooooorious glory, slappin' Jon "Don't Call Me Coco...or Cookie..." Crisp around, slappin' straps 'round your waist like I slap the tasty taste buds from the collective mouths of whoever's responsible for casting Ben Affleck over yours truly to take on the Man of Steel...the thing that I CAN'T HELP but wonder is what in the blue blazes of HELL has happened to that hairline?!"

    CLOSE ON: The blinking cursor.

    WOMAN: "I mean, as much as MJ2's crack about most of us being thirty or fortysomethings rubbed me the wrong way as a fan of the forty and FABULOUS crowd, well... let's just say *some* of us are doin' our DAMNDEST to look the part."

    The woman giggles.

    WOMAN: "And by some of us, I mean you Eli. Nnnnnnnnot to say now that this makes some kind of statement on how much you've got left in the tank or what kind of challenge you'll pose to the rest of us in the all-or-nothin', anythin' goes environment of a Battle Royale, but c'mon... you seriously think the suits are gonna let a guy who looks like YOU hold the title?

    L-O-L'z. Isn't it silly that I type out slang words? Like honestly, what's the point?"

    CUT TO: The keyboard, where the right hand stops to scratch the left, then quickly returns to the email in progress.

    WOMAN: "Listen, I'm not gonna beat a dead horse with the age thing. Others have already gone there...and they'll continue to do so. Especially when you're expending so much effort to let them know their wrong.

    "I can still go," he says. "I worked my ass off for nineteen years," he feels COMPELLED to say. Struck a nerve, have they?

    CUT TO: The screen.

    WOMAN: "I mean, let it go Joe! Don't sink to their level! I know... right now, all we've got is this debate club bullsh[FCC]t, the so-called verbal jousting that inevitably crops up before each and every match we participate in that you could copy, paste and put before any other match in our career, because NOTHING really ever changes in this backward sport. But in the end, none of it matters.

    They can be faux humble like Aaron Jones. They can say all the same obvious stuff that you'd expect them to say like Cameron Cruise. They can be utter F[FCC]CKHEADS like MJ2 or a filibustering fools like Rocko Daymon...but it doesn't make any difference.

    What matters is A)Can you capture people's imagination enough to keep getting shots and B)Can you take those shots and WIN the damn thing?!

    I dunno about you, bub...but that's what I plan on doing. I'm not worried about proving to any of you that I can still go. I've undergone so many....erm....changes lately that I couldn't say with any degree of certainty what exactly will happen when I'm in there.

    But I'll tell you this much, I'm NOT goin' down to a guy with hair like the Cryptkeeper. And I've got to say... that strap restin' 'round this beautifully crafted waist of mine would be something to see.

    So when that bell rings, and we're all goin' toe-to-toe, you can bet your bottom dollar that THIS girl's gonna be ridin' on top, for the sake of fashionable accessories if nothing else! The PHENOM has left the building!

    That's a good ending, right? I never know how to wrap these things up...especially over email. I'd honestly prefer to just cut to some boobs or an episode of Perfect Strangers while I make my escape.

    Maybe that's something you should start thinking about, Eli. ESCAPE.

    LOVE always...

    S-Jess."

    CUT TO: The glistening yellow nails clattering out a post-script.

    WOMAN: "P.S.: I've got some things to say to the rest of you, but at the moment...I've got visions of Eli's hands all over me dancing in my head...which is disturbing and sexy all at once. So maybe try a little harder next time and I can turn my attention to something less balding? Lemme know! xoxo"
    Ernie: "Aaand in the bathroom just now I thought of the promo that could have won it for me."
    Me: "Really?! Cuz it was.."the sh#t?" ziiiiiiiing!
    Ernie: "Lol. It was!"

    Brevity is the soul of wit.

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