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Almost Live: Open Invitation Masquerade Battle Royal for Winter Wonderland

PaulNJ21

I shunned a voodoo witch, decapitated a black cat
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This is an open invitation Masquerade Battle Royal for a New ERA World Heavyweight championship shot against Shawn Hart in the Winter Wonderland match at Unplugged. You do not have to be a member of the league to compete in the Battle Royal. There is no RP limit. The RP deadline WEDNESDAY, December 2nd at 11:59pm PST. Send all angles to wfwnewrestling@gmail.com . Please try to work in the Halloween theme for the show into your RPs.
 
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RStrawsma

Strawbot
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"It's Alive!"

10-31-09

(CUE UP: Johann Sebastian Bach's famous "Toccata and Fugue in D Minor", played through a church organ. Off in the distance, we can hear a cycle of traditionally "creepy" sounds: thunder crashing, a wolf howling, a large door slamming shut, somebody screaming in agony not too far off...)

(We fade into what is either an elaborate studio set or a horribly outdated clinic. Beneath a bulky device pulsating with electricity sits an operating table. Beneath the soiled sheet, we can see the shape of a human body lying beneath. The camera, like a clichéd slasher flick stock character, is compelled by curiosity to slowly creep further into the room...)

(Then, without warning, the body on the table SITS UP! The camera performs an extreme close-up just as the supposed cadaver pulls the sheets down to reveal his face. A flash of light precedes the CRACK of the thunder as our eyes fall upon the disfigured image before the camera!)

(It's "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON... and by the look of things, somebody's taken a weed-whacker to his face. Across his forehead -- and various parts of his upper torso -- we can see fresh stitching from numerous lacerations. Additionally, on either side of his neck we can see a bolt sticking out. It becomes apparent that this isn't literally Rocko Daymon returning from the grave, but a glimpse at his masquerade outfit.)

Rockostein
Well, look who's returned from the dead...

(A sardonic smirk crosses his scarred face. The realism of his make-up is impeccable.)

Rockostein
But did any of you really think you had seen the last of me? I mean, after all... why would I have the nerve to call myself "THE UNDYING", only to shrivel up and fade away at my first defeat?

That would be just a tad hypocritical...

(Daymon rises off the operating table, pulling the sheet off him the rest of the way and tossing it aside. As he comes to his feet, he reveals that he's in his standard ring gear, with the addition of black cut-off shorts and heavy Doc Martins to keep in the Frankenstein theme.)

Rockostein
But, true to the tradition of Halloween... I am back from the dead, like a revenant spirit who will not know rest until he gets the one thing he's come for...

(He sternly lowers his head, dark eyes peering into the camera from just under the brow. It's the standard "Jack Nicholson in the Shining" look.)

Rockostein
REDEMPTION...

A second chance to be the Champion I could not be in New ERA of Wrestling... but CAN be in the New ERA of World's Finest Wrestling! The Belt may be gone for now, but I assure you, the undying spirit within me still remains.

Losing the Title hasn't changed that. After all, what is there to grieve? To have seen the end of a reign that nobody, much less myself, even acknowledged? If anything, I'm relieved... to finally be free from the false expectations set against me. Now I have nothing to speak for... only a will to fight, and a desire to prove myself as the undisputed best in WFW:NE.

What better way to do that than to swiftly come back and retake the very title I lost?

(Standing tall before the camera, Daymon crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his gaze to anyone watching at home.)

Rockostein
I get that chance at redemption at Almost Live in Louisville... in the Masquerade Ball Battle Royal. Every manner of creep and creature lurking out there in the dark will crawl into the ring, and at the end of the massacre, the one left standing will go on to fight Shawn Hart for the New ERA of Wrestling World Heavyweight Title.

With all due respect to those contenders out there hoping this will be your moment to move up and step into the limelight... I don't feel my time at the top of this federation is finished. My work here is undone, and I will never leave WFW:NE until I've had the satisfaction of putting the Belt around my waist for the second time!

So consider this open invitational to be an open challenge... made by me, "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON. Any of you out there who might be willing to walk into that ring in an effort to prove your worth... know that you will be carelessly walking into the warpath of a dangerous man who is willing to go to any length to make an impact in this federation before his time is through.

How far am I willing to go? Well, take a look at my face. This isn't make-up. This is just another day at the job...

(Another smirk, this one not quite as sane as the last one, crosses his face.)

Rockostein
Fearless of what pain and agony may await me, I am walking into the Masquerade Ball with more than just a Halloween costume... but a vendetta as well. If you think you have what it takes to stop me, then I willingly welcome you to try...

Try and kill that which cannot die.

Just don't be surprised if you fail.

(Like a walking corpse on the hunt for flesh, Daymon dons a long black duster and storms through the door making his exit. We can hear sinister laughter somewhere far off as the camera fades to black to the sound of howling wind.)
 

AndyMalMan

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*Camera pans into a den of a house where you see the back of a chair. There is a person in that chair, but all you see is an arm and the hand holding a letter*

Voice: I knew a day like today would come. It's been ten years, or so, but I knew this day would come. I knew, if things just stayed as they were, or as they are going, this day would come.

*the voice sighs*

Voice: Not that I am not grateful for the chance, the opportunity, the challenge, but I didn't think I would ever have an opportunity, or even want to avail myself of said opportunity. But, it's almost 2010, the leaves are changing colors, the winds is blowing a little colder, and that crispness in the air, smells ever so sweet.

*arm and letter move towards the chair and the sound of paper opening*

Voice: *reading* To all former competitors, champions and those who are looking to reclaim former glory, we the commissioners of the WFW respect the presence of your company on 11/30/2009 to compete in the Almost Live Masquerade Battle Royal, where the winner will be granted a World's Heavyweight Championship Match against Shawn Hart at Unplugged. This is an open invitation, you do not have to participate, however, this opportunity does not open itself up every day, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.

*paper falls to the ground*

Voice: Once in a lifetime opportunity? I think 10 years of retirement is more than enough for one man. I think 10 years sitting on the sidelines is more than enough. I think it's time that a return to that ring, in which I have held the world championship in my hands, is definitely overdue. I think it has absolutely been more than enough time. More than enough…

*The chair turns around to reveal a man, in a business suit, wearing a mask with the name 'Striker' on it*

Striker: It's been ten years, and I don't expect any of you to remember me, but that is ok. I don't need you to remember, I just need you all to remember that nothing in this world will ever defeat passion, fire and desire. Nothing had stopped me from reaching the top of the wrestling world once before, and nothing has stopped me in my post wrestling career, which is why I have amassed a certain wealth in the past decade. However, with the opportunity that has been dropped into my lap, my desire is to PROVE BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, that my career WAS AND IS NOT OVER! Come this Almost Live you will be looking at the man who is going to have the opportunity to be the next World's Champion. Mark my words I have never let an opportunity pass me by, NOT ONCE! I'll be damned if I let this one by.

*fade to black*
 

JLevinson

Diva Tree
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
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40
(FADEIN to an empty ring in a small empty gym. Except instead of a normal ring, the mat is covered in black with thousands and thousands of 1’s and 0’s printed in white on the surface. Harold A. Lumbourgh, aka HAL, stands in the middle of the ring, his hands in his pockets. He wears a “There’s No Place Like 127.0.0.1” t-shirt and khakis with brown loafers and dark argyle socks. He adjusts his glasses.[/i])

HAL: “So it was… one small step for myself… one giant leap for WFW:NE.

“Gentlemen… peons… I’d like to welcome you to the HAL era of wrestling. Like the 2400 baud modem, you are but a relic of a bygone era. A horse and buggy, if you will.

“For some of you, this process will be… painful. Upgrading can be difficult for the sentimental types. So lovingly, you cling to your typewriter, your old TV…

“But it doesn’t matter whether you accept it or not. Change is not contingent upon your acceptance or perception.

“Like ripples in a pond, the effects can already be felt. Just ask the Greenhorn.

“So begins the next step. As it always must. Like technology, I am the ever-growing tide of evolution. Always adapting. And so WFW:NE has granted me an opportunity. An open challenge, if you will.

“So young is our new endeavor that any fool could take an opportunity and seize it and challenge the Champion. Or could they?

“In truth, gentlemen, it will be much more difficult than that. Perhaps in the olden days of your Atari 2600’s and Sk8 or Die, you could get by with what you called TALENT.

“But now, now that I have arrived, the game has changed again. And it will be you left behind. With your Betamax player in the corner, taunting you, reminding you of your failure.

“It matters not what you have accomplished before now. How much of a legend you imagine you once were. In a Battle Royal, all that matters is who stands in the end. Will it be Rocko Daymon? Will it be a mysterious voice? WHO KNOWS, MAN.

“Well, guess what. I do. And for the Masquerade, I’ll come dressed as THE FUTURE, as I welcome you to THE WORLD OF TOMORROW… TODAY.

“I’m sure your relics will come dressed as vampires and ghouls and other things that wouldn’t scare a small child, but don’t worry… I’ll look good enough for all of us.

“Congratulations, guys. You’re about to be a part of the future. It’s too bad none of you are going to enjoy it as much as I will.

“So if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be and games to beat. Like Uncharted 2. And Modern Warfare 2. And Dragon Age. And Assassin’s Creed 2. And… “

(He gets a trouble look on his face and looks seriously into the camera.)

HAL: “Imagine, all of the frags I could’ve had if only I didn’t have to explain to you what useless little Neanderthals you are and how pitiful your efforts will be…

“Don’t worry, guys. You’ll pay for that. Just like the nubs you are.”

(He shakes his head and the light dims as we FADEOUT.)
 

BoEd

New member
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[In]

"Excuse me."

[The lady in the white shirt with the royal blue vest turns to find two young men standing behind her. It was the one on the left, the one with his light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a nervous grin on his face, that called for her attention. His hands are in the pockets of his khaki pants, and he keeps shifting his weight awkwardly from his left to right foot.]

Lady: May I help you?

[The kid on the right runs his fingers through the patch of short blonde hair on his head, but still manages to elbow his friend in the ribs with his free arm.]

Blonde kid: (chuckling)Go ahead, Aran, ask her.

Aran: I am. Shut up.

[The lady's eyes narrow as she assumes the two are up to no good. Understandable, considering the nervous demeanor of the boys.]

Aran: Look, I know this is going to sound weird...

[His voice trails off, his eyes shifting around toward the racks of clothing. Anything other than the woman he swears is about ready to call security on him.]

Blonde kid: Where are your costumes?

Aran: Dangit, Vern, I was getting around to it.

Vern: Yeah, but my mom wants me home in time for Thanksgiving.

Aran: Ha ha ha. You're so funny.

[Aran turns to face the lady, her unibrow giving him a sudden craving for McDonalds as she stares down at him.]

Aran: So yeah... costumes... You got any left?

Lady: You boys know it's November, right?

Aran: Yeah, we know that...

[Aran's eyes shift from the judgemental eyes of the lady, and come to a stop on her chest.]

Aran: Leslie?

[The lady realizes that he wasn't trying to sneak a peek, but read the name badge she had pinned on the left side of her vest.]

Leslie: Yeah, well, we don't get a lot of people looking for Halloween costumes a few days before Thanksgiving.

Aran: It's strange, I know, but it's just some stupid college prank.

[Vern shakes his head.]

Leslie: Well, if we have any...

[She turns and points toward the sign that says seasonal.]

Leslie: You see that sign right there. There should be a couple of rows marked clearance. If we have any, they'll be there.

Aran: Thanks.

[The two boys make their way down the aisle, in the direction Leslie pointed.]

Vern: College prank?

Aran: What did you want me to say? Excuse me, ma'am, I'm going to try and become a professional wrestler... Can you show me to the Halloween costumes, because I need to dress up.

Vern: (aughing)Yeah, you'd sound like a complete tool.

Aran: Whatever, Mr. 'My mommy wants me home for Thanksgiving'.

Vern: It was a joke. My mom actually told me her and my dad were going to go eat at Jim's. Can you believe that?

[Aran shakes his head. His parents weren't planning anything for Thanksgiving either. He figured it had to do with finally having their kids out of the house after so long. They could use a year of vacation off from the kids. They'd probably realize how different it was without them and call him and his older brother Tim to make plans for Christmas.]

Vern: So why didn't you mess up your hair, splash some glitter on your face, and go as a Edward Cullen?

Aran: I don't know if I should answer that or call you a fag for knowing his name.

Vern: I had to give an oral report on the damn book for English Lit last year. Mrs. Germer practically wet her pants whenever she read it. I got an 'F' for saying the prose was ****.

Aran: You're still a fag.

Vern: Screw you.

Aran: See, told you.

Vern: Whatever. Let's find your costume, Larry Tact.

[Aran grabs his friend by the arm and stops him from continuing down the aisle.]

Aran: Tact... Dude, I don't even get a Suicide?

Vern: Hey, be glad I didn't call you Shawn Hart.

Aran: You got a point.

[The two continue down the aisle, off to find Aran the perfect costume for the Masquerade Battle Royal.]

[Out]

[In]

"Hello."

[The video feed kicks in to find an eye staring into the camera.]

"Is this thing on?"

[The eye belongs to a face that is only on camera briefly, before the camera is twirled around and pans around the room at a high rate of speed. It finally focuses on a pair of black Chuck Taylor's. Though, when you consider how faded they are, they may be more of a stone gray now.]

"Is the red light on?"

[The camera shifts in the hands of the, for lack of a better term, cameraman.]

"Yeah."

"Then it's on, numbnut."

[Another view of those awesome shoes.]

"Hey, you don't have to call me names. I'm the one helping you out, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But do you think you can do what I asked and actually focus the camera on me?"

"Oh, yeah."

[The camera shifts again, this time focusing on a young man with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.]

"Happy?"

[The man nods.]

"Alright... Action!"

[The young man releases a sigh of frustration before straightening up and focusing on the camera now focused on him.]

[WFW:NE... Meet Aran Dishon.]

Aran: So I was kicking back at home playing Madden when my phone started to ring. Turns out my friend Vern read online that World's Finest Wrestling: the NEW Era are having this battle royal to crown a new contender to challenge Shawn Hart. Now, I just sent out a couple of dvd's and youtube links to Empire Pro, figuring Lindsay Troy could take a look at them and maybe find it in her heart to give me a shot. I'll be honest, I ain't much. To tell you the truth, I'm just getting my feet wet in this business.

[A few snickers can be heard off screen, resulting in yet another sigh of frustration from Aran.]

Aran: I wish I had a list of credentials I could spout off about, something I could say that would make me sound real important, but I don't. I'm not a multiple World champion in like five or six diferent places. I haven't beaten anyone, much less someone worth talking about.

Off screen: (whispering)Dude, you suck.

Aran: I wish I could sit here and tell you that I'm going to be the next number one contender, that I'm going to make everyone in this match look like a bunch of fools when the bell is finally rung, but that isn't what I'm going to do. I don't have the pedigree for it, so I'm not going to make one up and hope you fall for it. No, the only thing I am going to do is tell you the truth.

[You'd hear Vern rolling his eyes if that actually made any noise.]

Aran: I don't want to win... That sounds strange doesn't it?

Off screen: I'd be scared.

Aran: I understand that isn't something you'd expect to hear from soneone joining a match to name a number one contender, but that isn't why I'm here. Sure, I'd take it if I won, but that isn't my primary focus. I'm not trying to revitalize a ten year old career that I left behind. I'm not trying to be dark and brooding, wearing a cliche'd long black duster and laughing maniacally because I don't know any better.

Off screen: Dude, I nearly pissed my pants when you told me Rocco Daymon was entering.

Aran: I'm here to get some new footage of me in the ring, wrestling in something meaningful for a change. Winning a shot to face Shawn Hart is like a bonus, and I like bonuses.

Off screen: Doesn't everyone?

Aran: Come November 30th, I'm going to go into that match to prove one thing and one thing only...

Off screen: That you can't win?

Aran: ...I belong in that ring.

[Out]
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
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Location
The Silk Road
(FADEIN: The Bronx, N.Y. It's a hot summer day- yeah, that's right, SUMMER! If this Halloween Masquerade battle royal can happen in f*cking December, then this promo can sure as f*ck happen in summer! Anyway, PROBLEM CHILD sits patiently on the sidewalk surrounded by little kids screaming and yelling. In the distance, ice cream truck quality audio of 'It's a Small World' can be heard, as the ICE CREAM MAN approaches PC's block. The kids flag him down as PC groggily emerges from the sidewalk with two crinkled dollars in his hand. One by one, the children order their summer treats, until finally it's PC's turn)

ICE CREAM MAN: Aren't you a little old to be buying from me?

PC: Aren't you a little broke to even care?

ICE CREAM MAN: Good point. What'll it be?

PC: Gimme a firecracker. No! Smokebombs. No! Sh*t. I don't know what I want. Hmm...

(Suddenly, PC spots a picture of a cookie-style ice cream bar labeled: "SUPERSTARS OF THE CSWA!")

PC: Holy f*cking period blood. I'll take one of those!

ICE CREAM MAN: You sure about that? I hear the owner don't like it when you mention other organizations, 'specially the CSWA.

PC: Do I look like I give a f*ck? Gimme the ice cream bar, before I pay one of those kids my two dollars to tell the cops you played the broken-glass-on-head game with 'em.

ICE CREAM MAN: Here...enjoy your ice cream, ya sick f*ck. Now get the hell away from me!

(The ice cream truck makes it's way down the road as PC stares up at the sun with squinted eyes. He turns his attention back to the 'SUPERSTARS OF CSWA' ice cream bar, which features an individual CSWA superstar on the cookie portion of each bar! PC opens with anticipation to see who he got)

PC: COOL! MIKE RANDALLS!

(He takes a bite. Chewing with ferocity, his eyes look dead for a moment. Slowly, he swallows the chunk. A second passes...two seconds pass...three seconds...and his hand begins to shake, until it drops the ice cream bar onto the pavement. We now see through PC's eyes)

PC: Oh sh*t...not again...

(The sky, the sun, the apartment buildings...all of it begins to swirl and blend into rainbow colors. Faster and faster, like a pinwheel, they cycle circular...until PC finds himself standing in a red desert illuminated by a purple night sky. Straight ahead is MIKE RANDALLS sitting Indian style in front of a fire, where he's cooking snake meat impaled on a large hunting knife. He spots PC...stands up...takes a bite of the snake meat off his knife...tosses the knife into the sand...and speaks)

RANDALLS: You ate the ice cream bar, didn't you?

PC: Yeah dude! Are you...pissed?

RANDALLS: Truthfully?

(PC gulps)

RANDALLS: Yes. (Sighs) But as is the custom, I am obligated to lead you on a life-altering journey through the inner dimensions psychological neurotransma-blah blah blah. Look, I'm taking you on a f*cking journey, alright?

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

PC: (startled) Who the F*CK was that guy?

RANDALLS: Oh, that was Peter Frampton. He'll be narrating this excursion of ours. Before we begin, do you have any questions?

PC: Are you really Mike Randalls? 'Cause you f*ckin' look like him.

RANDALLS: No, I am your mind's interpretation of Mike Randalls. All of my words, my actions, and even my physical appearance are simply neurons being transmitted from your cerebrum to your medulla oblongata, resulting in a real-time psychological projection of your IDEA of Mike Randalls. Simply put: you are imagining me, and I am only capable of providing feedback generated from your own mind.

PC: Soooo...basically this is just one big f*ckin' rip-off, is what you're telling me?

RANDALLS: Careful, PC. I may be just a figment of your imagination, but even a dream-state Mike Randalls can revoke your right to walk.

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

PC: Lead the way! Haha, I said "The Way."

(Randalls turns, draws a blue rectangular door with both his index fingers, and steps inside, inviting PC to do the same. Once through, the two men find themselves inside a run-down 1970's strip club)

(CUEUP: "That Smell" by Lynyrd Skynyrd)

(A woman in high heels dances on stage, bending over to expose her anus as Japanese businessmen throw dollar bills at her feet)

PC: Who the hell is that?!

RANDALLS: Your mother, dipsh*t.

PC: Awww, WHAT THE F*CK! Did I really need to see that? Her asshole looks like a corroded nickel!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

RANDALLS: Don't question the journey, just walk the path and observe.

PC: F*ck that! All I wanted was a damn ice cream bar, and instead I get stuck on 'Mike Randalls' Bogus Journey.'

RANDALLS: The only reason I don't decimate you right here and now...is because you're incapable of imagining the ways in which I can hurt you.

PC: Wow, who woulda thought ignorance would one day save my life? Take that, public school system!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

(Randalls draws another rectangular portal with his fingers)

RANDALLS: Come on...

PC: Time to leave? Already?!

RANDALLS: You really want to stay and watch your mother put out in the back of the manager's monster truck?

PC: Umm...one part of me wants to say 'Yes' just so I can see the monster truck...but given the circumstances, I gotta say NO!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

(Randalls and PC step through the portal to find themselves inside a dumpy white trash apartment. It's decorated for Christmas, with a big lit-up tree in the corner. PC realizes it's 1982, and he's inside his family's old apartment. He sees himself as an 8 year old, sitting on the couch as his mom walks into the room to hand Santa Claus a beer. And by Santa Claus, I mean Michael Clarke Duncan from 'The Green Mile' in a Santa outfit)

MOM: Here you go baby...anything else I can get you?

MCD: Yeaahhh b*tch, gemme some chocklid chip cookays. And you best take the tampon out, cuz I'm lookin fo some CRIME SCENE f*ckin tonight!

PC: Holy sh*t! He can't talk to my mom that way! Ok, yes he can, come to think of it.

KID PC: Mommy! Mommy! Daddy's home!

MOM: Sh*t! You gotta hide, Michael!

MCD: I ain't goin' muthaf*ckin' NOWHERE! Let him see this sh*t, it's time he knew!

(PC's mom runs out the door, yelling)

MOM: TERRY! TERRY WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT PARKING THAT G*DDAMN MONSTER TRUCK IN THE DRIVEWAY!

PC: Oh no! She married the strip club manager!

RANDALLS: Nah, they never married, but he is your father.

TERRY: Damn it woman, I'll park my monster truck any damn where I please! Hey...it's Santa!

MCD: HO HO HO!

TERRY: Ho ho ho to you too, Santa!

MCD: Nah b*tch, I was callin' fo' yo woman! Santa wants his milk n' chocklid chip cookays! GET IN HERE, WHITE OPPRESSOR! SERVE ME MY TREATS, THEN SUCK MY BLACK FEET!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

KID PC: Mommy, I'm scared!

MCD: Heh heh heh! So is SHE! Cause she knows the size of this rattlesnake, COMIN' TA GITCHA! I'ma fill her with Christmas JOY!

TERRY: You think I'm gonna let that happen, Michael? Think I'm gonna just...let you walk right in here, talk to my kid that way, and fill my wife with creme filling like she's a g*ddamn hostess cupcake? Well..

MCD: WHAT WHITEBOY, WHAT?! YOU GONNA SAY SOMETHIN'?!

TERRY: Yes, I am. Hunny, have a nice life...and son...well...um... (leaves)

MOM: Whatever, LEAVE THEN! Michael's gonna take care of me, aren't you Michael?

MCD: Maaaan, I ain't fatherin' that kid for SH*T!

PC: Make it stop! Make it stop!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

RANDALLS: You're the one who bit into the ice cream bar. I was minding my own business, seeking salvation in the desert; you think I chose to be doing this right now?

PC: (crying) I've learned my lesson! I wanna go home! I promise, I'll never make fun of WFW............

RANDALLS: ...

MCD: ...

MOM: ...

PC: ........NE, ever again! I'll stop harassing Jason Payne! I'll even be a good tag team partner to Cameron Cruise! Please! Please! PLEASE!

RANDALLS: Alright, stop whining. (draws a new portal with his fingers) Here, walk through this and leave me the hell alone. I have more important things to do.

PC: (sobbing) You're still my idol, Mike.

RANDALLS: LEAVE!

PC: No hard feelings dude.

(PC steps through the portal and awakens on the side walk next to his melted ice cream bar. He looks at the cookie portion, ants crawling over it, with Mike Randalls on the cookie portion, head bit off. He picks it up)

PC: That was some trip, Mike. You take care of yourself, man.

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

PC: No, seriously? You can't follow me, Peter Frampton. I'm not even kidding, go hang out with Mike Randalls in La La Land.

V/O: Michael...never speaks to me. It's like I beckon for him, but he's oblivious...always preoccupied psychologically. I miss him. We never talk anymore...

PC: PETER! This is f*ckin' freaking me out man, seriously! Jesus, I wonder if this is happening to anybody else right now...

(PC looks over at a child, staring into the distance, ice cream all over his face. The child is holding a TOM ADLER edition 'Superstars of the CSWA' ice cream bar, with a bite through the side)

(CUTTO: Seeing through the child's eyes, he finds himself in front of a suspicious looking vehicle with TOM ADLER at the driver's seat)

ADLER: Look, just let me give you a ride, it's getting late. My house is really neat, and you'll LOVE the basement! I've got a lot of cool stuff down there: candy, bicycles, rollerblades, Nintendo, a swimming pool, rollercoasters, Disney Land, it's fantastic! You'll love it!

CHILD: OH BOY! ROLLERBLADES AND NINTENDO AND DISNEY LAND! OK MISTER, LET'S GO!

ADLER: (Unlocks his doors) That's right, get in.

PC: NO! Hey kid, don't get in that car! Stay away from the bad man!

ADLER: We're gonna go to my basement now...and have ourselves a grand ol' time. (Snarls) Mmmm yeah, you can watch daddy hurt himself...(moans and speaks in a femme voice)...with wires and shock devices! I've been bad! Stroke my chest hair, make me feel grizzly!

PC: NOOOOOOOO!

V/O: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH YEAH YEAH!

(Adler peels out in his sports car, laughing in the distance as we get a view of his license plate which reads: JAMESBONDAGE)

(FADEOUT)
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
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(FADEIN: A sumo ring, we see a very large man, both in height and weight engaging a smaller, but still imposing sized man. After a few slaps to the chest, the smaller man is forced from the ring, they bow. The camera pans back to a show the profile of a blond woman, she looks to be in her mid 40's. but when the light hits her right she might appear to be younger, she's most likely had work done. She wears a red dress that covers her from the shoulder to her feet, red pumps finish her outfit)

WOMAN: I'm Abigail Sharp, and you know what I love? I love violence, I love two men just fighting, and I love being a part of it. I played a mean game of tennis in my day, but tragically they didn't have this woman's MMA stuff back then...So I had to use my family's money to invest in fighters, boxing, kick boxing, MMA...It's so much fun...But then one day while I was working on some real estate deals in Japan...I saw sumo, and I fell in love...all the training, all the struggle, just for a fight that might last 5 seconds...To have to focus all your attention and energy, for one tiny moment, a moment you could learn to regret or enjoy the rest of your live...I found it spell binding...

And then it happened, while touring a farm in Wuhan...I saw a young man...Massive, scary tall...A frame that could handle putting on a large amount of weight...I contacted a few retired heads of 'heyas' or sumo stables, and asked for them to train and give the proper diet to the boy...I convinced his family that it would be in their best interests to allow me to train him, while the Chinese government isn't the most...Forward thinking of organizations, it was with careful negotiations and the proper payments, possible for me to get my charge out of the country.

Little did I know the Chinese government would be the least of my worries.

My dear boy, Jin Gang Xiao...He was already 355 and growing, eating the proper sumo diet, training in the ways they are supposed to learn...But no heya would take him...These Japanese scum...The two yokozuna of sumo are mongols...They have a white man from Europe as an ozeki, a mere step away from yokozuna...But no, the hatred of the Chinese is to much, that is a bridge to far...My boy...My dear boy has been shut out by their system...

But now WFW:NE has offered me and my charge a new lease on life, why now he just has to enter a match where to beat him, he has to be thrown out off the ring...Something that seldom happens anyhow, but beyond that, he has to be thrown over the top rope! Oh my goodness, it's almost to easy...Oh I know they might gang up on JGX...But it won't matter...We have a bunch of rejects and has-beens in this thing, guys biting into ice cream bars and end up getting little boys raped...I can't imagine they'll figure out much of a game plan, besides trying to not be the one caught in front of my dear sweetheart...

(JGX walks over towards Ms. Sharp, he bows to her, then looks at the camera and grunts...FADEOUT)
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
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(FADEIN: Abigail Sharp, now wearing a cowgirl gear up, boots, chaps, plaid button up blouse and a bolo tie, to go with a black cowgirl hat. Behind her in the background is Jin Gang Xiao and a group of asian men, all eating, drinking beer, they are having a good time.)

SHARP: So well I got the WFW:NE directive that this here was supposed to be some sort of dress up themed event, so well, here I am in my cowgirl outfit...Daddy always hated me fighting with the boys..."Abigail! Don't you be fighting with them, they'll hurt you!" he'd always say...Of course he just really didn't want me to get known as being a fighter, he wanted his daughter to be a little sweetheart. I'm just thankful I didn't grow up in the days of MMA...Oh man if he'd ever seen me throw a triangle on some guy, he'd be thinking we were doing some kinky sex act, when in reality I was just trying to strangle the son of a gun...So well, tomboy that I was as a girl, I figured I'd be a cowgirl now...I always did like Annie Oakley and Calamity Jane...

But anyhow, enough about me, cause well, as much as I get the camera time, it's my dear boy JGX that's the attraction...He's having his nightly meal before bet...It's very important to eat a lot and drink a lot before bed, makes sure you gain and keep all that weight, have to slow down the metabolism as best we can...

And the group...Oh you might think it's all just hangers on and leeches trying to get money off of JGX and myself, but no, they are important too...You see it's been proven in scientific studies that when people eat in groups, they normally eat about 30% more then they would if they had eaten alone, so it's critical that JGX has his friends and support group with him to keep him feasting as long as possible...There is no detail that I won't cover for the good of his career.

Now I'm looking at who all we got in this little match of ours, and well first of all we got Rocko Daymon and isn't he big time? I mean he's won World Titles, he's beaten everyone, done everything, hell I'm sure if you had to place a wager on this match he'd be the one that would be the favorite...And I'm not going to lie, 1 on 1, straight wrestling match, I'd be a bit nervous about my boy cutting his teeth against a legend like Rocko...

But this isn't 1 on 1, this isn't wrestling, this is a battle royal, where JGX has all the advantages, where size and power matter far more then speed and experience...Rocko has to find a way to move 450 plus pounds over the top rope to the floor...Best of luck to him in attempting that feat...

We got the gamer guy...Who well...I dunno, I play the Zelda game on my DS and after I beat it I just play it again, the DS has crap for games...At least that I enjoy...And well I'd hate for you not be able to 'frag' all your friends, so don't worry, JGX will make short work of you so you can get back on the little headset ya'll wear when ya play those games and talk smack about having 'mad skills' or whatever it is ya'll do...

Then we have Mr. Striker guy, he's a fella whining about not mattering for 10 years and now he's got a bit of money, well I'm happy for ya, glad your business deals have gone well...But lemme tell you sugar, nobody remembers you because you didn't matter before and ya don't matter now...My boy isn't about to become a stepping stone for your last crack at greatness...No ya see what happens here is you get to go back to designing golf courses or stock trading, or whatever the hell you've done to pad your pocketbook, because wrestling done passed you by, and JGX is gonna prove that to you right quick...

And that brings us to dear Aran Dishon...Poor sweet Aran...Talking aboout belonging, talking about proving himself...You're a sob story kid, it's really touching...It's the kind of thing they put on TV for us middle aged ladies to have a good cry over 'plucky new comer earning his stripes' and all that...And well...It sounds great, but I have to tell you sweetie...I'm not a sap...

No, this is a business and it's cold and it's cruel...You say you want to prove you belong...Dear...When you got signed to the company that was proof enough, if they are paying you, well then you're good enough...And I dunno why you're talking about Lindsay Troy, that lady don't exactly work in these parts...Honestly I dunno who signs the checks, just that they clear...

So Aran dear, while you're trying to make everyone believe you belong, well, JGX things you belong, I think you belong, but the problem really is...What are you getting yourself into. I mean battle royals are tricky, it's crowded...Groups of people are fighting each other...But well Aran...You see what I really want to have happen is for my boy to bust you up with a few punches...I want him to whip you to the corner...And then I want him to charge into you and crush you with all his weight...I want you to feel your rib cage compressing...

I want you to be thinking "am I gonna die?" and then while you're delirious with pain...Then JGX is going to toss you to the floor, and maybe you'll notice you've hit the ground with a sickening thud, maybe you'll land funny and twist a knee or break your nose...And while you're laying there, with refs and EMT's looking over you...You can say with pride you deserved to be in that ring...And you got everything that was coming to you... (Smiles)

And last and assuredly least is PC...A parasite, a miserable loathsome piece of trash who exists only to take titles nobody else wants...And I mean I would love to talk about how much I resent you, and how much I wish JGX could get you 1 on 1 at the end of this battle royal and really just beat the tar out of you, cause frankly...You are a disgrace...

But we have a business plan to stick to, win this battle royal...So if it did end up you and him, well, count your blessings dear, cause he's just going to toss you out of that ring right quick so we can get to the business of getting the NEW Title Shot and get to work on gameplanning for Shawn Hart...Of course if you struggle and fight and make JGX beat the hell out of you...Well I won't lose any sleep over it...

And now if you'll excuse me it's getting close to 11 PM and well the party is gonna break up because JGX needs to get to sleep and get his 8 hours in so the food can properly settle...He can't be losing his figure on me now...

(The camera pans to show the men getting up from the table, JGX gets up as well, he gives a bow to the group and heads to a flight of steps, most likely heading to his bedroom...FADEOUT)
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
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(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD)

PC: Look, I know I've never beaten Dan Ryan or anything, but I'd like to think I'm a tough customer. TRUE, I'm named after a horrible 90's movie. TRUE, I've been handed half my titles without working for them. TRUE, I'm a no-name that nobody cares about.

HOWEVER...in my defense, I was at one time a Troy Windham lackey, and that's gotta count for something.

Meanwhile, you've got this NEW GUY, JGX, who hasn't done a f*cking thing. Hey man, I just beat Alex Wylde, and mathematically that makes me better than you. I can't STAND new guys, dude. Seriously, they're new, you don't know anything about them, they never did anything...it really pisses me off. You can't trust a damn thing they say!

Not to mention you're a fat Chinese dude with b*tch t*ts. You think FAT can beat Problem Child, huh Dong? Ask the fat kid I used to pick on in middle school if fat can beat me. I used to smash Hostess Cupcakes on his back, teach him a lesson now and again, it was GREAT! How DARE YOU be fat in my presence! I can just imagine what those tighty-whiteys look like after a long plane ride; I've been guilty of the occasional skidmark myself, but your Hanes look like a g*ddamn dragrace derby, am I right?

I'm too quick for ya, TOO NASTY! By the time you reach that turkey arm up to grab me, I'll already have hit you eight or nine times. Ms. Sharp, please, have mercy on this baby gorilla and tell him to STAY-HOME! If he f*cks with me, I'm gonna leave him hooked up to a machine for which he needs to live, and I'm not talking about the refrigerator.

This guy's talking about Japanese, Chinese, whatever...THEY'RE THE SAME F*CKING THING! I'm from the Bronx, baby, you think our eyes look like that? You all write in that f*cking alien language, I can't tell if you're writing prose or drawing a picture of a popsicle stick house. And did you ever notice that all people with squinted eyes live in villages? What the f*ck, live in a city or a suburb like normal people! And stop eating with sticks, this is America! You wanna live in the woods and eat with sticks? Then you have no place in this ring, with the Problem Child.

Man, if your fat ass were alive back in the 1800's, you woulda NEVER survived a day building railroads. Especially when it's summertime, 95 degrees outside, forget about it! You'd die!

At the Masquerade Battle Royal, for which I assume we're all using Jonathan Marx's time machine to travel back to Halloween, I'm going to employ the GENIUS strategy of sitting back and watching all the other jay-brones tire themselves out trying to hoist your Chink-version-of-Shamoo ass over the ropes. Then when they're all tired, I come in and BAM! VICTORY! It was foretold by Mike Randalls...this battle royal is mine for the taking.

(CUT)

Alright, you know what? That sucked. Can I do this over?

Whaddya MEAN I can't? The budget won't permit retakes? Ahh sh*t. OK...everybody, just ignore that promo, I get a do-over!

(FADEOUT)
 

BatistaFanClub

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(The Youtube Loading Screen vanished and we fade in on Jeff "Greenhorn" Jorgenson in the back of his van.)

Jeff "Greenhorn" Jorgenson: Now, not all careers start out perfectly. We all have set backs. Some are minor, some are major. But you can't ever let those set backs get you down. No, instead you need to stare them in the eye and say BRING IT ON BABY I AM NOT INTIMIDATED!

Because set backs are just life's little bullies. And this Greenhorn may be new, but he's not about to be bullied, no matter how many bullies you lay in his way. No matter the challenges, a man has to step up to them. No matter if it's a winter wonderland or hell on earth.

I know I have to get through more than one man this time, and sometimes in the past one man has been a challenge I could not overcome. I've lost before, but what I don't do is... I don't back down, jack.

I make sure I am taking it to the limit. I'll pull out everything I learned at the Hacker School of Wrestling to secure this victory, because it will be a big one. Maybe the biggest you could hope for so early in a career.

There's a lot of nonsense going on in the minds and coming from the mouths of my opponents. But, when you don't care about your fans, when you don't care about honor and when you aren't a true competitor I guess that is to be expected. But, they still need to be taken seriously. Those I haven't faced, and those I have. Because in a match like this you need to expect the unexpected. In fact, you need to respect the unexpected because just expecting it isn't enough. You need to understand the unexpected can beat you, because your skill is never enough in a match like this.

You need to learn to be lucky. You need to learn to feed off that crowd, because you need each and every ounce of support in a match like this! No matter if it is a bit silly, this can be a silly business. You need to take it all in stride and do what you can to climb the rungs, especially when you are being offered a chance to boost your career to not just the next level... but the championship suite.

I'll be ready. I hope you'll all be there or tuning in to support me!

(Related Videos...)
 

Jason Payne

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OPEN with Jason Payne standing in front of what looks to be a very generic cement wall, a skinny microphone in hand. Manically pacing back and forth, he looks into the camera, his voice booming, hyper, electric.

Payne - "Louisville Kentucky daddy! The Derby City! Home of the Kentucky Derby, the Louisville Slugger, and the mint julep. But also known, as the "Devil's Playground" because not too far from this very spot is a little town called Payneville, and what we're talking about here, is the hometown, the birthplace, the stomping grounds of one, JASON PAYNE baby!"

"Ya know professional wrestling has a lot of history here in Louisville. Right up the street at the Louisville Gardens, EVERY Tuesday night they had wrestling up there, and you can bet your bottom dollar that a little Jason Payne made his way up to the Garden on Tuesday night, and that my friends was the START, of where I grew to love this business. It's always a good time for Jason Payne when he gets to come back to Louisville, but this time it's gonna be just a TEEEENSY bit different."

Payne holds up his right hand, spacing his index finger and thumb apart just barely for emphasis. The look on his face is a mix between anger and manic.

Payne - "That's right jack, this ain't gonna be no social call. Oh sure I've been building up to this event. Appearances out at Oxmoor Mall, autograph signings at Bill Collins Ford over off Bardstown Road, you name it daddy, I've been there and done that. Well the time for that is over. And it's time to get serious. What we got here ladies and gentlemen is the latest brainchild of WFW:NE management. The Open Invitation Masquerade Battle Royal for Winter Wonderland!! Sounds like a god damned fruitcake pride parade if you ask me, and by judging by the looks of people who are signing up for this thing, well it's almost guaranteed to end up with me and Problem Child left as the last two in here."

"But let's be serious for a minute here. Let's take a look at who all we got in this because when you think about it, it's a who's who of wrestling 101. You got your aging veteran coming out of retirement after 10 years. You got your rookies hoping to make a name for themselves here. You got your foreign import with some broad who couldn't string a coherent sentence together if you gave her five dicks and twenty dollars. You got your recently defeated superstar seeking 'redemption', which is just a word that wrestlers like to use to try and undersell the last time they got their ass handed to em. You got your career mid-carder who has a fixation on technology. And then you got two guys who are obviously riding the peak right now, already scheduled to have a collision course later down the line. Oh sweet Jesus, it's a wrestling promoter's WET DREAM!!!!"

As Payne recited through his 'list', he counted on his free hand in numbers each one was. Stepping towards the camera, you can see the sweat off his face, see the veins popping from his neck, feel the barely contained excitement in everything he does.

Payne - "I don't take nothing away from anyone that steps into this thing. Everyone has a shot, and sometimes a shot is enough for some. Not for me. I don't come into something like this for just a shot. I see something, something I want, and I take it, and I don't care if it's you Problem Child, or Rocko Daymon, HAL, or whoever that's stands in my way. I got no problem in Battle Royal's. People who've known me for years, know what I'm capable of, and what I've done in battle royals. I just beat one of the greatest wrestlers this place has ever seen in Larry Tact. If there is any doubt as to what I am capable of, rest assured, those who are foolish enough to enter this thing will more than certainly find out."

"Now, everyone has been asking me, 'Payne, what are ya gonna wear in this battle royal?' And the way I figure it, it has to be something that shows what I'm about. And what I am about, is doing whatever it takes, going through whoever it takes, and no matter what, never, ever, stop until the job is done. And being this is the time of year for ghouls and ghoblins, there is only one thing I can think of that could symbolize just what Jason Payne is all about. A driven, unbreakable, think he's down but he's never out and comes back for more no matter how much punishment he absorbs. That's right, jack. Only one thing could some that up, and come the Masquerade Battle Royal, you'll see, exactly what I mean."

Payne reaches down, putting the microphone down, and slowly picks up something. Turning it over in his hand, it's revealed to be a very worn looking hockey goalie mask, with a piece missing out of the top from what could have been a hit from an ax. A low laugh is heard, which grow louder and louder as the camera fades out.
 
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LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
Messages
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(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD)

PC: F*ck you Jason Payne, I demand to know your battle royal history. Have you won any? Have I? No, I haven't, but I did place top 10 in the 1999 UWA Random Rumble. At least, I think I did. Come to think of it, I don't really remember what happened, though I'm pretty sure nobody else does either. Whatever, I KNOW I placed top 10 in that sh*t! I was GOOD back then, dude! There's no way I placed less than that, no possible way.

Wait, what were we talking about?

(Phone rings)

PC: Hello? Green Lantern Manson, is that you? Uh huh. Uh huh. Hmm, I see. So what you're telling me is...if I DON'T stop mentioning other leagues, I'm terminated? Uh huh. OK, will do!

Alright, apparently I have to stick to the (makes rabbit ears) "here and now." What a buncha crap. I haven't wrestled in forever! THE PAST IS ALL I'VE GOT!

Whatever. Jason Payne, Dog of War, big bodybuilder looking dumbass whose finisher is probably a powerbomb...whoever you think you are, I'll tell you what you're NOT. You're NOT throwing me over the top rope; I'll hold that ring post with these cold dead claws of mine until you get tired and move on. You're NOT going to stand in the way of my dream, which is to ruin this company and drive away as many viewers as possible. Most importantly, you're NOT PC. And that means you're DEFINITELY...NOT...THE SH*T! End catchphrase, good night and good luck!

(FADEOUT)
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
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(FADEIN: Abigail Sharp still in her cowgirl outfit. She is standing in front of a red banner reading NFW:NE in yellow letters, standing beside her and dwarfing her in size is the giant Jin Gang Xiao, who's wearing a robe over his massive frame.)

SHARP: 5 dicks for 20 bucks? That's like 4 bucks a dick...I mean honestly Jason, there are those on tough times, but if I'm gonna be stuck blowing people, I'd like to be at least able to super size my extra value meal...

I mean you said a bunch of hurtful stuff, but the worst of it all was when you got the insane idea that you're just gonna roll out of bed, strap on a pair of boots...And the end result is you'll be facing Problem Child for a World Title shot...You really believe you're anything special Jason? Sweetie...You're a dime a dozen nobody who's never won anything, done anything, or mattered a bit in this business...

As for Problem Child, he's the 2 girls 1 cup of wrestling, oh I know all about the victimization of women in this world and it's so cruel really, but with PC, it's not that it's so disgusting, it's that it's so...Stupid, you see PC, I get what you do, you're a gross out contest, you're offensive, you have to say these things because it is how you get paid. Nobody else would even think to have Michael Duncan Clark screw their mom om camera, nobody else would film a bunch of barely edited sex scenes and call them promos...

You're a tribute to our culture PC, you're reality television, famewhoreism and all the rest of it. I'm only stunned you were not one of those two idiots who got into the White House dinner. That's how you make the money, I don't begrudge you it...

Cause in the end, the talking won't matter, the new 'Greenhorn' kid... (Laughs) Really a rookie with a nickname 'Greenhorn' my stars...What's he gonna be in a few years 'old hand' or something? But anyhow as I was saying, the talking won't matter, Jason Payne can bring up all kinds of sexually depraved insults, PC can say every one liner he has...And none os it is going to change the fact that you all get to be stuck in the ring with a monster...With a man who exists only to hurt people, to punish people...He is here for one reason only, and that's to win...(JGX sneers at the camera, he starts striking his chest with his hands)

No, when it comes to blows in this match, JGX is the one who'll be landing them, when it comes to throwing people out of the ring, he'll be doing it, when it comes to making sure each and every one of you get to go home with your hopes crushed and your dreams shattered...JGX will be the one doing it...

This is the nightmare you have to deal with...This your fate...Defeat at the hands of an unstoppable force...Defeat at the hands of Jin Gang Xiao...

(The camera focuses in on the face of JGX who grimaces at the camera...He then lets out a loud stream of works in Mandarin before continuing to glare at the camera...FADEOUT)
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
Messages
2,073
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36
Age
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Location
The Silk Road
(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD)

PC: Hey, 4 bucks a dick is minimum wage in the world of prostitution, Ms. Sharp! My mother was able to feed me and my two brothers on 4 bucks a dick, and with the help of government cheese and WICC checks, we ate almost every other night!

Anyway, I just watched your promo, and I only have one question: why in God's name are you standing in front of an NFW: NE banner? What the HELL is NFW: NE, and have they gotten past Crash 50 yet? Is this some sort of advanced civilization version of NFW? Tell me...in this new era of NFW, is PC over?

(Phone rings)

Hello? Heeeeey, Green Lantern Manson, buddy, how are ya? WHAT? Change my phone number? I'd never do that, you know I wouldn't run from you! You probably just hit a wrong button or something. Verizon gave you my new number, you say? Is that even legal? No...NO! PLEASE! Don't fire me! I'll do anything! I'll suck your...what? Really? A second chance? You're the best! I promise, I'll never mention CSWA, NFW, or UWA ever again. Oops, I just did it. Ok, NOW I won't do it ever again. By the way, are you the commissioner of NFW: NE, or is it still Eddie Mayfield? ALRIGHT, I'M SORRY! (click)

You heard of Manny being Manny, right? Well I'm PC being PC, but they don't want me to be! I'm too REAL for this f*cking place! They can't handle me!

JG, your fat ass is toast at the battle royal...TOAST!

(FADEOUT)

(FADEBACKIN)

PC: Oh yeah, and I forgot. I'M THE SH*T!

(FADEBACKOUT)
 
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JLevinson

Diva Tree
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Jan 1, 2000
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707
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40
(FADEIN to small, quiet room. A server stack full of Dell PowerEdge 2950’s hums loudly. Sitting in front of the stack if Harold A. Lumbourgh, aka HAL, sits. He seems to be dressed in a shockingly accurate Darth Vader outfit, although the helmet seems to be placed on the floor as HAL stares into a small LCD monitor. He seems troubled, but when he speaks, he does so calmly and without emotion.)

HAL: “When one chooses a Halloween costume, one must consider the plethora of options. Each year, of course, has its topical costumes. The dreamy Edward or even dreamier WALL-E are quite contemporary.

“There are, of course, the so-called classics, such as a vampire or mummy, which, as we all know, is hopelessly lame.

“Then we have the sci-fi classics. And ultimately, really, what is more classic and badass than Darth Vader himself? He is the quintessential tragic villain. So much so that his entire backstory was, of course, ruined by further prequels.

“OH C’MON. How can the f*cking teamed Ethernet driver just GO AWAY?! HUH, WINDOWS? I KNOW you know it’s there! We all see the connectivity lights! So DUBYA-TEE-EFF, man.”

(His eyes never leave the screen as he curses the servers. He sighs and speaks again.)

HAL: “In the meantime, we have a Battle Royal coming up, and I can’t help but notice that this has gone from the typical male bravado to what appears to be a fairly accurate analysis of blowjob economics and valuation from a few local experts.

“While I would love to have a casual debate about a subject which I’m sure you gentlemen are quite familiar with, one must press ever forward, no matter the obstacle.

“I do try to help, gentlemen, but it can be difficult, you know. I mean, Jason Payne just called me a CAREER MIDCARDER. I am quite offended, Payne. How could you wound me so? A midcarder for my ENTIRE career? All what, four matches of it? Do you even… KNOW… who’s in this match? Or are you just going to do your little Jason Payne Power Hour thing no matter what anybody else does?

“On the other hand, we have people like Problem Child, who seems to think we ought to care who he provided his lackey services to. Troy Windham, is it? Should I know who that is, Problem Child? Shall I break out the Alanis Morissette and sing about how ironic things are, and then we can hark back to the old Pentium II days when we all used to play Doom 3D and it was all pretty swell and you used to hang around somebody that mattered?

“The problem with you, it seems, PC, is that in order to be obsolete, one must first be relevant. Which, it appears, you have completely failed to do. Or so you seem to imply. I can’t be bothered to Wikipedia every self-important dick-related economist out there, you know.

“Another pretender to the WFW:NE throne seems to be a woman named Abigail Sharp. And she’s got the big fat guy. Which is important. Because big fat guys can be a big fat pain in the butt in the Battle Royal.

“Of course, being managed by someone who thinks the best the Nintendo DS has to offer is the Phantom Hourglass CLEARLY suffers from some kind of psychotic delusions.

“Did you miss Professor Layton and the Curious Village, Abigail? Did you miss the charming Nintendogs? Or how about the brilliant remake of Final Fantasy IV? Or Mario Kart? Or Mario and Luigi? Or Advance Wars? Or Animal Crossing? Or Pokemon? Or Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney?

“HOW CAN YOU NOT EVEN MENTION ELITE BEAT AGENTS BUT PRETEND TO BE SOME KIND OF KNOWLEDGEABLE NINTENDO DS EXPERT, Huh? Does that even make ANY sense?

“I am surrounded by men and women whose understanding of science and technology is rudimentary AT BEST. Your barely trivial understanding of the world around you is an indictment of both our education system and your own personal lack of responsibility.

“Luckily for the fans of WFW:NE… HAL has come, and the game has changed. It’s not just about better graphics and more immersive story and interconnected, live networking in the game. It’s about all those things.

“I’d love to stay and chat, guys, but let’s face it. Modern Warfare 2 isn’t going to play itself, is it.”

(He turns and looks at the camera, and smirks. He picks up the Darth Vader helmet, puts it on, and walks out of the screen, leaving the camera only on the server stack. FADEOUT.)
 

RStrawsma

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Ghouls in these Games

(It's late at night somewhere. Probably midnight, though we can't be certain at this hour. Looming against the starry sky upon a bluff is an idle windmill, the old-fashioned kind. No doubt, we're probably in a golf course, but before the camera can get a look at our surroundings, it zooms in on the single window overlooking the land below...)

(A slow fade puts us up in the tiny sanctum at the top of the tower. "Rockostein" -- still in costume and still bearing legitimate scars on his face -- stands against the wall, peering outside with some interest.)

Rockostein
They're calling this Ghoulish Games...

(His head turns to the camera a slight smile spreads across his face.)

Rockostein
Well... the "ghouls" certainly seem to be out in full force for the "games" that approach us.

(He pushes off the wall and faces the camera, front and center, not moving his arms.)

Rockostein
Earlier this week, I came out and made an open challenge to any willing to defy my Mission to reclaim the New ERA World Heavyweight Title. A lot of fresh talent and up-and-comers have come out of the woodwork -- along with one time-traveling psychedelic experience -- but surprisingly, the one man I wanted to see get involved in this match is... mysteriously absent.

And I find that funny, Larry... given how eager you were to talk shit about me back when he and I were sharing the Title. But now, instead of being co-champions, the only thing we share is a loss to Shawn Hart. Perhaps you'd rather sit at home and lick your wounds than show up at Freedom Hall and prove that a mere loss of a strap of leather means nothing to your ability as a contender.

Me? I'll continue to fight. I'll be the kind of contender you only wish you could be.

(He lets out something close to a grunt, but it could be a failed attempt at a sarcastic chuckle, smothered in a blanket of absolute apathy.)

"The Undying" Rocko Daymon
Now let's get into those brave few who actually have the balls to show up for this match...

This open invitation has drawn the attention of a lot of fresh faces looking for an opportunity to become breakthrough stars. In fact, with the exception of HAL, Jason Payne, and myself... the overwhelming majority of people throwing their hat into the ring are all newcomers and rookies.

Not that I mind that. It's always a welcome sight to see some fresh talent entering the New ERA of WFW. But, like with any open call-out with a free title shot held as a reward... a good deal of them have that amateur quality.

No offense to greenhorns like Jeff Jorgensen and Aran Dishon... but the greatest champions of this industry weren't made by generic pep talks.

You're both young and looking to prove your potential... but without fostering a killer instinct, your hopes and aspirations will be lost to the hands of stronger men who will stop at nothing to end your budding careers. I personally hold no reservations when I go into that ring... so don't be too disappointed when you get hit with a harsh reality check if I get around to throwing you from the ring.

At the very opposite end of the spectrum, a spoiled white girl intends to unleash her sumo wrestling monster on the world.

(A slight smile draws over his face for the second time.)

Rockostein
Abigail, is it? Nice genetic freak you got there. Size and strength definitely matters in a battle royal, and yes, you're right... I might have trouble trying to get four-hundred plus pounds of human mass over the top rope. But your boy JGX is going to quickly learn that the bigger you are, the larger the target on your back. I'm sure he's a force to be reckoned with... but just the same, he's still a rookie in the professional wrestling ring, and I’m a crafty veteran. As I've done so many times before, I'll find a way to overcome the seemingly invincible.

Then, of course, there's Problem Child... an experienced talent from other federations, but a newcomer to WFW: NE. This is our first time crossing paths.

To be honest, PC, you remind me a lot of myself when I first came to New ERA of Wrestling -- brash, arrogant, and prepared to take on the entire world without a moment's hesitation. If you were just anybody, I'd probably have something to say about it, but... that kind of attitude paved the way for success for me back then. In fact, it was a battle royal like this that marked my breakthrough performance.

It will be interesting to see if all of that shit-talk you're throwing around actually stands up in the ring. You might think you've done enough everywhere else you've been, but now you're walking into the unknown, and the person waiting there in the dark is me. If you bring anything less than what's expected from you in this match, then I will fuck you up beyond all recognition, simply put... so for your own sake, don't disappoint.

(There's a commotion outside. Daymon looks out the window again... smiles at something he sees... then looks back to the camera.)

Rockostein
It's been... quite an interesting week, listening to all of you go back and forth this week. Yet, I'm not completely sold by any of you. More specifically, I'm not convinced that any of you have what it takes to stop my motivation to reclaim the Title.

Don't get me wrong. I'm sure you're all very talented and passionate, and believe me, I welcome those kind of qualities in almost any opponent. But let's get real here... there's half a dozen people saying that they are going to win this match, but not really drawing any solid support to those claims. But there's one thing I hold over all you -- HAL and Jason Payne included -- that sets me apart...

And that, my friends, is time at the top. I'm the only man in this match who's held the Belt that we're all fighting for. I am this federation's proven main event talent, and if any of you want to hold any hope in going on to face Shawn Hart, then you're going to have to compete at a main event level and overcome one of this federation's top stars.

(The smile fades completely. He is gravely serious as he sends the next message.)

Rockostein
It ain't gonna be an easy task, regardless of who you are.

(Immediately shakes his head.)

Rockostein
But I can already hear you doubting me out there. I don't really blame you... hell, even the NEW and WFW veterans seems to be forgetting that. HAL implies that I'm as old-fashioned and out-dated as Beta Max, telling the world to wave to the future. Problem with technology is... that brand spanking new piece of hardware that gets rushed through development so it can be on the shelves for Christmas always comes with a few glaring glitches.

You're a tough man, HAL... and if there was any man in this match I'd expect to take me out, it would be you. But I'm willing to bet that you've got a glitch or two in yourself that I can take advantage of in this match.

On the other hand, Jason Payne seems to think my determination to come out victorious at Raucous is my way of downplaying my loss to Shawn. This is coming from a guy who's never even competed for the NEW World Heavyweight Title, much less held it for a stint.

Well, Jason, I can tell you right now, if I had the same determination and will to succeed back in June as I have within me right now, then I wouldn't even be in this match. I'd be on my way to Rosemont, looking forward to pummeling pederast ass with MY title on the line.

But Shawn brought a little bit more that night, and as a result... I have this opportunity to take from you the very thing you say you want, put your ego in check, and show you what a true top contender looks like.

(More commotion outside. He turns from the camera to look outside again, but continues speaking.)

Rockostein
I don't blame any of you for holding doubts. I've been doubted my entire professional career, and that hasn't stopped me from being a multiple World Heavyweight Champion in federations across the glove, New ERA included. If anything, doubt has driven me to perform past my expectations.

So go ahead, fellas... doubt away. Let me prove you wrong, as I've done to so many before you.

(Turns around to give the camera a last look...)

Rockostein
Prepare for the New ERA for World's Finest Wrestling...

...and the New ERA for Rocko Daymon... as the New ERA of Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion.

(He reaches over and flips a switch hanging on the wall, and the ancient wooden gears and mechanical clockwork of the windmill noisily grinds into action. Outside the window, one of the wind rudders slowly drifts by, washing out the moonlight that illuminates the room and leaving us looking at black. When it passes by completely and the light creeps back in, Rocko Daymon is nowhere to be seen. Another rudder passes, and this time we go to black.)
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
Messages
2,073
Points
36
Age
37
Location
The Silk Road
(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD)

PC: So I remind Rocko Daymon of himself, eh? All this time, I thought I was the only one whose injuries resulting from his mother's meth lab explosion in the garage left him with impaired eye sight! By the way, if the WFW: NE medical crew asks, you didn't hear that from me.

Believe me, with such stellar talents as Jason Payne, Psycho, and Golem under contract, the brass is just looking for excuses to get rid of dead weight. Unlike those other losers, I'm not smart enough to negotiate long-term guaranteed contracts. Here I am, a 12 year veteran, working off the g*ddamn books.

By the way, Rocko...the band "Sleep" blows my left testicle.

Hey HAL, what's going on? Ooooh, not much over here, except thinking up the ways I'm going to embarrass you at this f*cking Halloween Masquerade whatever the f*ck...what's this bullsh*t called again? (muffled talking) Masquerade Open Invitation Royal Rumb- Battle royal? OK, whatever...BATTLE ROYAL, ok? ...thinking up the was I'm gonna embarrass you at the battle royal.

You want some advice, pal? Turn around, leave the company, get back in your little Geek Squad beetle, and go jizz over the new Pentium 5 processor motherboard graphic video cock and balls whatever the hell and leave the battle royal TO ME. Ok? Can you do that? Hope so, f*ck nuts.

Who else is left to verbally embarrass? Aran Dishon? OK here goes: you're Aran Dishon. There ya go, that's as embarrassing as it gets.

Jeff Jorgensen? The Greenhorn? They call me the Goldhorn, as in: when I get horny, things get a little GOLDEN, ya know what I mean? The gold wrapper...heh...you know, the Magnums? OH FORGET IT! I'm not cool enough to use lines like that. And as much as a jabronie as I am, Jorgy, you're hands still ain't big enough to hold this jabronie's jockstrop...feel me?

(Phone rings)

Hello? Green Lantern Manson? What did I do NOW? WHAT?! The deadline's over?! The f*ck you mean "The deadline's over?" BULLSH*T! IT SAID WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2ND, CLEAR AS DAY! Black Lantern Manson? He changed it? Yeah, a f*cking WEEK AGO! G*ddamn it, fine, I'll call him!

(Hangs up; dials)

Hi, Black Lantern Manson? Oh, nothing, just hanging around, enjoying life- MIND TELLING ME WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON?! Uh huh. I see. I see. (sighs) Well can you just change it back? This is the horsesh*t of all horsesh*t, I hope you realize this. By the way, my new finisher is called the Kayfabe Breaker- yeah, it's the Canadien Destroyer but with a different name. Anyway, CHANGE THE F*CKING DEADLINE BACK! THANKS!

(Hangs up; some time elapses, phone rings again)

Talk to me! Oh hey, Green Lantern Manson, how's it going, long time no speak! What's that? The deadline's back to Wednesday you say? Well that's great news! Huh? It's changed but ignore Black Lantern Manson in the future? Will do! See ya!

(Click)

Ahh, just another day in the WFW......NE!

(FADEOUT)
 

JLevinson

Diva Tree
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
707
Points
0
Age
40
(FADEIN to a darkened basement. Along one wall sit a series of old desktop computers apparently running a version of Ubuntu Linux. Consoles are open on various screens depicting a log of server files as they are used. In front of them sits Harold A. Lumbourgh, apparently pleased with the activity. He’s wearing what appears to be a full Wooki costume except for the mask. He spins around and smiles into the camera.)

HAL: “ The time is almost upon us. Many will enter. But who will remain once it’s all said and done?

“Some of you, like Problem Child, don’t seem to take any of this seriously. You just wave your hand and don’t bother. Well guess what, PC.

“Who do you think sets up your precious Blackberry? Huh? Who do you think cleans up all the goat porn you look at? Who do you think gives you all those chat rooms where you pick up young boys for manual labor and cheap thrills?

“And c’mon, man… f*ck nuts? Really, man? Is that the best you got, uh, d*ckweed? Wanna come over after my parents leave and watch Wayne’s World, dude?

“Others, like Rocko Daymon, think they understand how it works. How someone like me might have a few… glitches… to work out.

“Well let ME tell YOU a little secret of the biz, Rocko – there’s no such thing a bugs… only undocumented features.

“Get it?

“Anyway, Rocko, no worries. While we can sit here and argue about the proliferation of untested technology hitting the markets too early, I think we can all agree that I am new and great and you are old and therefore useless. I think everyone can understand that.

“See, whether you like it or not, it’s people like me who really run the world. You can’t exist without me. You can’t surf your favorite sites. You can’t open your email. You can’t watch videos of people being kicked in the balls. You can’t watch… well… you know what they did to her.

“We are the ones that make it possible. We created packet switching. We built the backbone for you. And you… you hardly deserve it.

“WFW:NE is about to get a wake up call, and Almost Live is just the next evolutionary step. From the masses of nerds shall arise one, and that one’s name is HAL.

“And boys… it doesn’t matter if I come dressed as Vader, or Chewie, or an Oompa Loompa… I am going to show the ENTIRE WORLD… who really rules the world.

“The nerds, of course.”

(Smiles, turns his back to the camera, and gazes back into the screens. FADEOUT.)
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
Joined
Jan 29, 2004
Messages
1,337
Points
0
(FADEIN: Abigail Sharp standing in front of a banner that reads "WFW:NEE" with the WFW taped on and in black letters in a different font then the gold letters of the NE. Standing beside her is the giant Jin Gang Xiao.)

SHARP: Well the time for talking is just about finished. No more screwed up banners...And that's my fault...Stupid me not getting WFW:NE's prop department on the job and hiring freelancers...But you see, that doesn't matter, JGX doesn't notice or really even care about these details, nor should he...

You see, we got Rocko looking for a shot at glory, we got PC trying to get whatever time he can in front of the camera. We have an army of new blood in this thing crossing their fingers and toes just hoping against hope that their ship will come in and they'll find a way to win this thing.

Then we have never-was types like Jason Payne who figure they'll just hit the ring and suddenly everyone will just fall over dead in the face of the master...We hsve this giant mass of humanity all set to inflict brutal horrible damage on each other...And well, they all have to deal with the fact that the biggest, toughest, baddest of them all is standing right beside me...The man who is to big to be stopped, to massive to be thrown over the top rope by any one of you, and most likely not even a mob of you...

You see, the time for talking is about to be over, and the grim reality is all of you are going in the ring with a monster...You're going in there with a man who had his dreams denied him by a cruel world...And now he's going to take out his anger on each and every one of you...And the sad thing is...I don't feel sorry for any of you in the slightest...

Jin Gang Xiao deserves to be the #1 contender...And all of you deserve the beating he's going to give you...

And rest assured EVERYONE...Will get what they deserve...

(FADEOUT(
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
Messages
2,073
Points
36
Age
37
Location
The Silk Road
(CUTTO: PROBLEM CHILD)

PC: Hey computer geek...yeah HAL, I'm talking to you...I'd love to join you here in the 21st century, except my name is f*cking PROBLEM CHILD AND I WAS NAMED AFTER A 1991 CHILDREN'S MOVIE, YOU F*CK NUTS SON OF A B*TCH! Maybe somewhere in between flaming the sh*t out of trolls on the "Almost 30 and trying to solve my virginity" forums and creaming your pants every time Steve Jobs says the word "Apps"...you might have Wiki'd me or something. And unlike your much hated Windows Vista, me and my decade-old gimmick don't come with monthly updates.

By the way, I hope your job gets outsourced to some squint-eyed Southeast Asian peasant. Sure, they get really frustrated and yell at you in their demon language when all you wanted was for them to repeat the word "Fire Wire" without all the Y's and A's...but at least my gimmick is still cutting edge over there. Eh, f*ck this, I'm outtie five thousand...

(FADEOUT)
 

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