Welcome to FWrestling.com!

You've come to the longest running fantasy wrestling website. Since 1994, we've been hosting top quality fantasy wrestling and e-wrestling content.

BattleBRAWL Rumble

JLevinson

Diva Tree
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
707
Points
0
Age
43
Time's Up

(OORP: Thanks for letting me slide this one in, Sean. These 18 hour days are f'n killing me. Oh well. Granted, this isn't the best, but at least I slid another one in. :))

(FADEIN to the dark basement we've seen before. Empty bottles of Jolt, Monster, and Rockstar lie all over the floor. Harold A. Lumbourgh sits at his computer, typing away. His shirt hasn't been clean in days, and his hair sticks in a thousand different directions at once. Finally, he spins around, and the dark circles under his eyes are visible.)

HAL: "Time's about up, isn't it, boys. We've all had our say. We've all inserted our intellectual property into this... synaptic mess.

"I've heard what you've all said. But above all, one man's ignorance stood tall.

"Mr. Daymon... you, my friend, have just made an enemy for life.

"I may not win the Rumble, Mr. Daymon. I may not even finish in the Top 5. But I will do one thing, Mr. Daymon. I will make sure you don't walk out of that ring the winner.

"I've heard ignorant men, Mr. Daymon, but you take the cake. You cast dispersions among all others, rifling through your 'smart' words... picking people apart as if you were any different.

"Oh, I've read the Internet, Mr. Daymon. I know all about your type. You sit back and you always let everyone else talk first. Then you talk about how you're special... about how you're no mid-carder... you're no one-gimmick pony.

"Truth is, Rocko... you're a disgrace to the sport. A disagrace to NEW. A disgrace to yourself.

"I might just be another computer nerd, Rocko, but at least I know my role. I don't pretend to be something I'm not.

"How can you, a man with NOTHING to show for himself after what, six years... call someone ELSE a midcarder? Where do you even get off USING the term?

"Like the young crackers with their brute force algorithms, you're just firing blanks, my friend. You don't truly understand the system. You talk a good game, but in the end, you're just another nobody in another endless sea of nobodies.

"At least Mr. Hart, with his University of... Come Get Some... plays the part. At least he doesn't pretend to be above it.

"But you, Rocko... you will pay the price for your ignorance. Enough of your memory leaks and badly hacked together Monte Carlo algorithms... for you, the time for Ctrl + Alt + Delete draws near.

"Of course, the rest of you... to some extent, I've enjoyed your inane, mindless ramblings. I have so rarely heard people speak so much about so little. From Mr. Hart's psychotic ramblings to Copycat's heavily choreographed and continuously homoerotic yet slightly amusing promos... and Copycat, the so-called Smartest Player in the Game would surely understand that there's a difference between accusing a man of being homosexual for listening to Queen and pointing out that he has somehow managed to top the level of homoeroticism already available in professional wrestling. Someday, perhaps, if you ask me nicely, I'll explain it to you so even your befuddled mind can understand it.

"In fact, it seems to me that I am... sadly.. as always... surrounded by imbeciles. Every one of you claimed to be special and different, and yet only one can win. How is it possible you could be so... delusional? So far removed from reality?

"Is this truly a game of intellectual weaklings and egomaniacs?

"Well the time has come and the tide has turned... unlike the rest of you mental midgets, I won't list anyone I've beaten, even as I represent the very league all of you have failed to represent in even the most simple, beneficial way... because, of course, you know you're just big fish in a little pond.

"But the synapses are firing... the neural networks are being assembled... new frameworks are being completed even as we speak...

"Long gone are the days of sequential programming and server-side scripting...

"... now is the time for those of us who have cut our teeth on object-oriented programming to rise above, using asynchronous XML and JavaScript as we tear you mindless hulks into nothingness...

"... your mucles don't impress me. Your minds certainly leave quite a bit to be desired.

"HAL has come to NEW, gentlemen... and there is no going back.

"Moore's Law will consume you all."

(FADEOUT.)
 

RStrawsma

Strawbot
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
1,512
Points
36
Age
40
Location
Indiana
(Mid-evening, day of BattleBRAWL. The fans line up around the block, waiting eagerly with tickets in hand. As the camera makes a pass, they all lean in and cheer with indescribable energy, holding up t-shirts and posters representing all their favorites.)

(The camera comes to the wrestler's entrance, where a pair of rent-a-cops stand flanking the double doors into the arena. Nearby, a small gathering of fans waits in constant vigil for a glimpse of NEW's finest.)

(The din of the crowd suddenly fades to silence as a new sound takes its place. It's music. "Sleeping Giant" by Mastodon takes up the audio as Daymon appears. The group of fans immediately goes active in mute ceremony. Daymon, wearing jeans and a black hoodie that bears the letter "D" in bold red coloring, smiles warmly and takes a step toward them.)

(His smile immediately turns into a grimace, and his eyes drift down. We cut to a high angle shot of Daymon lifting his shoe to see a spent condom smashed into the treads.)

(Brow furrowed, Daymon turns off his iPod, and we can hear the nearby fans continuing to cheer, calling his name and asking him over. Before he does, he wipes his foot across the asphalt to remove what's on the bottom of his shoe.)

Daymon
You know, it's almost as if fate is trying to tell me something.

Like... "Look out, Rocko! You're being haunted by jackoffs!"

And yeah, I guess when I see the sort of **** that floods the airwaves, I guess I really AM surrounded by the results of several burst condoms.

Well, that's New York for ya...

(With his shoe cleared, the smile returns as he approaches the crowd and they press forward to contact him. He shakes hands, signs autograph, and poses for pictures. At one point, he looks directly into the camera and smirks as he juts a thumb into a sign that reads "DAYMON - NEXT NEW WORLD CHAMPION!" After a moment of doing his bit for the fans, he enters the arena.)

(Inside, Daymon wipes his brow and sighs.)

Daymon
Damn... amazing how they keep on coming back. I was almost convinced that all that bull**** I've heard in the past day might've been true, but when I see fans like that, I remember that I am making an impact in this federation.

Some, anyway... not as much as the magnitude 8.0 earthquake that awaits this federation when I become its World Champion.

But you know, I somewhat expected that last promo would have gained a bit more of a response. Some spiteful words, perhaps... maybe even a few good points to offer a rebuttal. Instead, I've seen only a HANDFUL of promos since my day in Central Park. Not many good ones, either.

(Daymon makes his way down the hallway toward the locker room.)

Daymon
So I've heard back from Solian, Hart, and Mr. Entertainment... and even Cameron dropped in a quick wonder. And yet I'm left wondering, where in the hell did the other 15 participants go? Did they drop off the face of the earth?

Or could it be, perhaps, that the moment they saw I was interested in winning this match, they all simulatenously wet themselves, and now feel there's no point in trying to defeat a man who is hard set to take home the win.

But I guess I should hand it two the three who had the courage to step up and talk back to me. Well... "courage" is a word I'd apply to one of those cases. For Hart and Entertainment, I'd guess it was more of an act of stupidity.

But you're not stupid, are ya, Ulysis? Or should I say, Suicide? Better be careful what you call yourself these days; Mr. Entertainment thinks he's getting paid per joke he makes about multiple aliases.

But Stephen Forrester is nothing more than a fool, but even I know you're a step above that. And a part of me respects you, being at a point in your career that I hope to one day reach myself. The day where I can just walk into a match like this and act like my **** doesn't stink, and not need to back up my attitude with any hard evidence.

Instead... you just want to call your opponent out on being "cookie-cutter".

(Daymon reaches the locker room and steps inside. He drops his bag on the bench and turns to face the camera.)[/B]

Daymon
Wow, Ulysis... you went ahead and did it. You just went and identified yourself as even more cookie-cutter than I originally thought you were, by doing the typical "you're cookie-cutter for calling me cookie-cutter" insult.

Although, I suppose that saying that would just further go to show that I myself am just as cookie-cutter, in that I'm the typical wrestler that calls his opponents cookie-cutter, who call you out as a cuttie-cooker, and who cooks the cuts, and cuts the cookies, and--OH **** IT!!

You know, rather than give myself an aneurism by trying to argue this, I'm just going to settle with the fact that about every wrestler out there is a gimmick in some light. Kinda like how every movie you see today is just a bunch of clichés that have built off of other clichés.

Though sometimes you have people like Ulysis that lack and and all imagination necessary to be at all interesting.

Seriously... watching that promo really made me suspect that he had a copy of "Insulting Your Wrestling Opponent For Dummies" kept somewhere off camera.

Just to be sure, I went out and bought a copy, and did a little research...

(Daymon unzips his bag and pulls out a large text in bright yellow binding. The title is just as he described it. He flips it open and finds a page.)

Daymon
Ah, here we are... "Chapter 7: Insults. The following is a great list of common insults you may use against your opponent. Feel free to add your own twist to some of these remarks to maintain the guise of an original gimmick."

Here's a few I found in your promo, Ulysis...

No. 26... "Call your opponent generic. Such things will annoy him by referring to him as "unoriginal", "cliché", or even "cookie-cutter."

Well, I guess we all know where that comes from. That is a very original insult, now that I think about it, Ulysis. In fact, I can't even count how many times I've heard people call me generic over the years. But eh, we've already touched on this...

Here's another one:

No. 137... "If your opponent lacks a long list of titles to his record, make mention of it. This is a great way to publicize the fact that he can't take the extra step to make a legitimate accomplishment."

And, maybe that's a valid point to bring up, Ulysis. What titles HAVE I won recently? Where ARE all the accomplishments a guy who "shoots from the hip" like me should have to back up his words?

Well, even if I HAD give you a long list of belts and trophies from a variety of obscure federations, I'm sure your response would have been a scoff, followed with, "Titles don't mean anything in the ring! It's all about HOW YOU WRESTLE!" I figured, rather than have to suffer through THAT clichéd line for what would have been the hundredth time in my career, I'd simply leave out the subject of my past dealings and focus on the present.

Cause, you know... NOW is what really matters, am I right?

(He flashes the camera a confident smile.)

Daymon
But now that you ask, Ulysis... yeah, I guess I have to ask the same questions to myself. What titles have I won? Well, even I'll admit that there haven't been many in the six years since I last held onto a "World" title. You'd think in that time, for a guy like me to say what I'm saying, there'd be something to show for it. Alas, there is nothing.

What can I say that you wouldn't otherwise write off as an excuse? I've had highs and lows in my career... even times where I've considered leaving the business behind altogether. But I stuck with it. And as a result, in the past couple years, I've exceeded beyond levels that even puts the legends of my day to shame.

I can openly say that I am at the peak of my career, and I intend to go even further. How will I manage that?

Well, let's see... it just so happens that here in NEW, I'm in a Battle Rumble against 19 other incompetent athletes, and if I win, I get a shot at the World Title. Right after BattleBRAWL, if fly over to Hawaii to catch EUWC's Ultra Brawl, where I'm booked in a six-man main event with the World Title on the line.

So, provided things go my way in the next week, it looks like I'd be well on my way to having those belts you're asking about.

But even if it came out like that, Ulysis, it still wouldn't matter. What does it mean to be a champion when you tear away all the fancy ego-boosters like "icon of the federation" and "represents the best the fed has to offer". A champion, in truth, is nothing more than a man with a strap of leather and gold to add to his name. It doesn't REALLY mean he's the best... he merely happened to be the last guy carrying that belt around, and came into posession of it.

I guess you can say I'm not in this match to see myself as a champion in future months... but rather, I'd just like to point out in the future that I outlasted 19 of NEW's finest.

But enough about that... I just found another thing on this list that you used in your promo...

(Daymon clears his throat and goes back to reading.)

Daymon
No. 2,341 and a half... "If you have more experience than your opponent, be sure to refer to him as 'kid', and refer to yourself as representing an 'old-school' method of professional wrestling that existed before your opponent ever entered the ring. This is a sure-fire method to get under the skin of almost any opponent, as it is an insult to their age and experience."

Oh, that one's my favorite. I just love hearing tough guys play this card in their promos...

Here I am, pushing thirty, married, two kids, eight years of experience under my belt... and still, everywhere I go, there's always some older **** that creams in his pants every time he calls someone else "kid."

You know, Ulysis, I suppose I should be sorry that I wasn't born eight or nine years earlier, so I could have enjoyed the great experiences of your hey-day, back when you guys were out defining what it REALLY means to a "professional wrestler"...

(Daymon's eyes suddenly go mockingly wide and he holds himself in a more brutish stance with his legs squat and seperate, arms held out at his sides with his fists noticably clenched.)

Daymon
"Yeah, man, you can't understand the vibe back then, man! Back before you had hairs on your dick, I was a PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER!! You couldn't understand how great a feeling it is to fall from the top rope through a table outside and dislocate your arm in front of an audience of 40 people in a rural Midwestern high school gymnasium! Those were the REAL times, man! And WHO CARES if half that audience was a troupe of special ed. kids and they clapped and cheered to everything--THOSE KIDS ARE TROOPERS, man!!"

(Daymon ends his mockery and shakes his head.)

Daymon
No, Ulysis... obviously I couldn't know that feeling.

I guess you can say I was just raised wrestling on coming out to a packed arena once a week, having my name announced over the PA and hearing my music play, and watching every one of those fans come to their feet and cheer my name.

Call me spoiled, I guess... but in this industry, you're one of those people, or you're just entertaining a bunch of hicks fighting a bunch of fat guys in ugly spandex in the local youth center.

And there's a REASON why I'm not one of the latter kind.

It's a shame, however, that you should lump me with guys like Christian Sands, Adam Benjamin, and Steve Johnson. Talented athletes in their own respects, maybe... but you'd be a fool to think I'm part of that breed.

I was around for a while when I first noticed guys like Benjamin and Sands poking their heads into the game. And if you look now, they're dropping like flies after a few short years. Sands... nobody's even heard of that guy since his "career-making win" over Jean Rabesque back when nobody cared. He hung on Lindsay Troy's asshole for a little while after that, then just walked away. Couldn't cut it, I guess...

Meanwhile, Benjamin and Johnson are quickly burning out. All you have to do is look at the past year for these guys to know they won't last much longer. It's a weak breed of professional wrestler... they come out strong and everybody looks at them with potential. But they end up being more like David Carr than Ben Roethlisberger... never living up to all the hype. So they just give up and walk away, because they didn't have the heart to bust their ass and make it to the top.

Can't say the same about me, though. While the three of them fade away into the void of professional wrestling history, I'm poised to make my mark. I won't fade away like them... in fact, I'll only go beyond them to prove that I can outlast even the ones you consider my contemporaries.

But I guess I can say that there is ONE thing I hold in common with them. You see, while you have a penchant for referring to us as "dem obnoxious kids", we've always gone around referring to your type as "the old cranky guys".

You know... your type...

(He flashes the camera a wink, knowing somewhere out there in the world, "DreamMaker" Daniel Wight might overhear that line on the TV in the other room someday and die of a sudden head explosion.)

Daymon
The grizzled veteran, on par with Rabesque, and Ryan, and Windham. The guy who just goes from fed to fed, and you never see him smile. Why? Because he's pissed off over the fact that he's surrounded by inferior talent. And yet he has a BONER for always being the one to "take out the trash", as they put it.

That's the only reason they bother sticking around this sport. They've already won more titles than anybody can count. They've won all the tournaments and awards imaginable. And they've always got ten, maybe even twenty plus years under their belt. They just walk from match to match and act like they've seen everyone and everything. And whether they win or lose, they walk out and say, "Well, that was pointless..."

Cause why should ANY match be worth it? They've already been at the top of the game in the peaks of their careers. They've become everything and anything every bright-eyed kid off the street dreams of. Everybody bows down and puts their nose half an inch away from their ****, and they take in a big, healthy lung full. Then when these "old guys" look them in the eye and ask, "So, how was it?", these people just smile and say, "That was better than sex..."

And yet everywhere they go, they do nothing but act bored and unimpressed... as though the very life of professional wrestling has been sucked out of them. It's kinda like seeing hair metal legends... old guys who can still cut it when they need to, but they're never really able to live with the times...

And I don't care what ANYBODY says, Vince Neil stopped being cool the moment "Nevermind" went on the shelves...

So why do they even bother sticking around? Well, according to Solian, it's "to make people lose, GRRRR!!" That's one hell of a life goal, Ulysis... but hey, whatever floats your boat.

In truth, we may never know what the "old guys" want, or why they still stick around. Maybe, quoting Shawshanke Redemption, they're simply institutionalized. Maybe this is the only place they can go and feel like a REAL PART of a society. But outside of the ring, maybe they're just nobody.

Whatever, the reason, I, for one, am HAPPY to have you "old guys" around everywhere I go. Why? Well, I can never get enough of your "kids" and "whippersnappers" and occassional "hooligans". And you guys tell the best stories in some of your promos, about how the best moment of your life was when you survived a two-hour iron man match in a cell, when you grabbed the TX7FW World Title from the top of the cage and fell through both of your opponent and the ladder, breaking your back and feeling intense pain until the EMTs pumped you full of so much morphine in the back of the ambulance that you passed out. That was the highlight of your life...

(Daymon is silent for a moment. Eyes searching the air, as though he were somehow trying to understand how any of this could be passed off as glorious.)

Daymon
...hm... very inspiring.

The highlight for me will be kinda the same... them, lying in the middle ring, crying in pain and tending a broken back, later pissing their pants in the back of an ambulance. Only that belt will be in my hands, and I will be standing tall over you.

Personally speaking though, I fear the day when I become one of you. I mean, what FUN do you guys take in this sport? All you guys do is pop up for a promo, grimace, compete once, maybe twice a month, pull of half a dozen moves, win or lose, and go home like it didn't even matter. I would HATE the day I woke up and realized I lost the passion for this sport!

I guess I'll just have to enjoy the times I'm living in now... as this meager "punk kid" with an ego problem. It sure as **** is more enjoyable than what you guys must go through on a daily basis. It feels good knowing I can brag about beating the federation's Television Champion and some mid-carder back in the locker room will **** himself out of fear.

You guys though? It's like nothing even matters. Wins, losses... it's all just a distraction from you and your goal to get ahold of that complimentary cheesecake in the lounge backstage. It's that general apathy I just can't understand sometimes...

You lose a match...

"I didn't even want to win. He got lucky."

You lose a title...

"I didn't even want that title. I was going to drop it anyway."

Your car got towed...

"I didn't even want that car. I wanted to walk home, like a MAN, through THREE FEET OF SNOW!! BOOYAH!"

(Flashes another confident grin, although this time more in awe than jokingly.)

Daymon
But I gotta hand it to you... the "I don't want to win" line, that's a classic. Not even something you'd find in this...

I mean, few can admire the genius of that statement. But I can already see it's beauty. After BattleBRAWL, you'll be standing with the other nineteen losers who all thought they'd go into this and walk out backing up everything they said. Then you can turn around and point your finger at them and said, "HA!! I was RIGHT, ****bags! I said I didn't want to win and I didn't, but you all wanted to, and now you look like DOUCHEBAGS!! HAHAHAHAHA!!"

Or, on the other hand, you might get lucky and find yourself as the winner--which would probably happen when John Doe comes into the ring, forgets that he tied his shoes together, trips over his own dumbass self, and inadvertantly knocks me out of the ring when I'm not looking. In that case, you can point at the nineteen of us again and say, "HA!! Fooled you all! I said I didn't want to win, but I did anyway, and you all look like DOUCHEBAGS!! HAHAHAHAHA!!"

Great plan... and maybe even a hack like YOU, Ulysis Solian, can walk away from this looking like a badass, win or lose. But that doesn't negate the truth. You can't keep up with the new talent, and that pisses you off. So because that particular FACT can't find its way to slip out of your crawl, guys like you walk around and "not care" about anything, just maintain that badassness you so desperately crave every night to make yourself believe you're a vital part to something greater.

That's your excuse...

(Daymon holds his hands out in front of him as though he's said the following line a million times over the course of his career...)

Daymon
But a real man needs no excuses. He just goes out there and does his job, and he's happy with the result.

In the end, I guess that's what seperates us. In spite of your years of experience over mine and what you boast as your phenomenal talent, I'll beat you just because I have the heart to win, and you don't.

(Daymon tosses the Dummies book back into his back and zips it up.)

Daymon
I don't buy the bull****, Solian. Maybe years ago, but not today, and not at BattleBRAWL.

That's a little factoid that Stephen Forrester should be familiar with...

Yeah, I suppose I'll switch gears at this point, considering I'd rather not wish Ulysis to fall asleep in the middle of my promo and end up snoozing through the match--I want a challenge, after all, and he's the only thing that comes close, from what I've seen thus far.

But for the record, Ulysis... no, I never really favored PWI. When I was a kid, I was jacking it to pictures of your mom.










...oh yeah, I went there.

(Daymon nods with a proud smile on his face. You could almost imagine him high-fiving himself.)

Daymon
Normally I don't lower myself to childish remarks, but I figured it was a step above your level of humor.

Seriously, do you think I haven't been hearing the "Rocko's Modern Life" gag since the day I walked into the ring for the first time years ago? Please don't tell me your talent is as cutting edge and original as your insults. I'd hate to have to win this match without having some guy trying to "crush dreams", or whatever **** it is that gets you off.

So let's talk about Steph-O... let's talk about Mister Entertainment.

Err, wait a second... we realized a few weeks ago that "Mr. Entertainment" is nothing but construed, flashy bull**** that distracts an audience from the real person underneath. A coke addict by the look of things... or maybe an idiot sevant who escaped from the local music hospital and wandered into an arena one day, and it just so HAPPENED that his unique talent was professional wrestling.

I say this because even though I BEAT the guy in the middle of the ring, he still sticks to the same bull**** he was pulling a couple weeks ago.

It was nearly deja vu for me... right down to the "Crocko" remarks. I almost thought I was watching a repeat promo from before, but then I realized that even after pinning your shoulders in the ring, you still think you're the cat's meow.

I sat there watching with my jaw dropped, wondering, "My GOD, am I really seeing this? Is it morally ethical to beat the **** out of a mentally handicapped person twice?

(Daymon shrugs, because sometimes understanding inferior talents can be quite a confusing and burdensome task.)

Daymon
You know, as I understood it, JOHN DOE was the resident amnesiac. But your case, I think, outdoes even him.

I'm not going to deny you put up one hell of an effort back on Raucous. In fact, that had to have been one of the best challenges I've gone head to head with in a long time. Had a hell of a struggle going over you. Had to actually go beyond my own limitations. And because of you, I walked away a little bit wiser, and a little bit stronger, with the pride on my shoulders.

So, good job, Steph-O. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow.

But if you think you can sit here and feed me the same load of **** you did a couple weeks ago and assume you can walk all over me this time around, you've got another thing coming. And, sad to say, you'll probably turn out in this match like you turned out last week: the guy who put up one hell of an effort, but couldn't muster anything more than that.

Like I told you before, Stephen... the "Mr. Entertainment" facade is just a load of bull**** you use to keep your face even after you've been humbled. I probably shouldn't have even been surprised to see that you practically deny being beaten.

It just goes to show how weak you are, Stephen. You can't even admit a simple loss. You can't admit the fact that another man proved himself better. So you just turn around and pretend it doesn't exist. The way of a coward...

(He tsk-tsks quietly with a slow shake of his head.)

Daymon
NOT the way of a professional wrestler.

The professional wrestler gets ratings by kicking ass and winning matches... the way that made this fed what it is. Not walking around on camera and acting like a jackoff and ultimately choking in the ring every time you meet a REAL challenge.

You couldn't know what it's like to get ratings without having to throw in a joke or two. And yet you want to be the World Champion? ****, Steph-O...

But that's all you are, unfortunately... a joke, and a punch line. And that's all you'll be remembered for. But I, on the other hand, will be remembered as the man who could go above that level and take the prize.

So I'll tell you what... maybe if you hide the corner and cry like a little girl--a position I'm sure you're all too familiar with--there might be the remote chance that I'll look over while I'm busy clubbing people with John Doe's limp body. And when it finally gets to the point that you piss yourself from fear and throw YOURSELF over the ropes to escape another humiliation at my hands, you can go home and brag about being the best again, and go on to call me a "whiner".

And the both of us can be happy after that. I'll go on to become NEW's World Champion, and you can rest easy in your self-constructed world that in your deepest, darkest dream, you can be better than me.

But right now, even though you call yourself "Mr. Entertainment", I find the subject of you anything but.

I guess the REAL meat and potatoes of this match lies in Shawn Hart.

And you know what? I could just take everything I said about Entertainment and repeat it for him, cause it's the same damn situation.

Let me just remind you of where you stand, Shawn... many months after having WALKED OUT OF THE INDUSTRY because you couldn't hack it with the rest of us... and everybody had such high expectations for you when you came back, but alas, you haven't done JACK to warrant your place in this match. You're here by reputation only, and even THAT left you with the worst possible entry number.

And yet you come out and say you DESERVE that title.

(Daymon chuckles.)

Daymon
Shawn, the only thing you deserve is another humbling at my hands.

You can talk bold all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that only a month ago, I laid you out in the middle of the ring like the sack of broken and bruised **** you are.

If you really want to delude yourself into thinking this is finally YOUR BIG COMEBACK, just remember that Rocko Daymon not only HAS your number, but also your address, post office box, e-mail, and first-born child.

There is no way IN HELL you're stepping over me in this match. Not after I BUSTED MY ASS laying out hacks like you, and Entertainment, and Marx over the past few months leading to this moment. MY moment, the one I've been waiting and working for... since before I even stepped into this federation.

You might have the same opportunity, but I'll be damned if I allow you to TAKE it.

But enough about you, Shawn... everybody who caught the match where I turned you into paste in the middle of the ring knows that against me, your garbage. I'm not even going to waste another word on you.

Last person I'll touch on is Cameron Cruise...

(Daymon smiles warmly and waves to the camera.)

Daymon
Hey, Cam! How are ya? Funny how the two of us are fighting in a match like this. Funny also how you've all but ignored me thus far, though you didn't fail to trash all the insignificant has-beens that have been flapping their gums over this week.

I look back on our last match, over the Chad Dupree Memorial Cup in TEAM. Although, I guess you couldn't call it a match, unless that's when you just come down to the ring ready to fight, stand akwardly for a moment as your ally attacks the ref, and make the humiliating walk back up the rampway with nothing but a loss as a result of DQ that you had absolutely nothing to do with.

Sorry that had to happen, Cam. That was my one moment to compete in Chad's honor, and we never got the chance to butt heads.

But I guess I'll get my opportunity to fight you for Chad's honor in this kind of match. Seems like he's been on your mind lately, after a few of Solian's comments. And I'll be damned if I didn't know you weren't just as motivated to take that title as myself.

But unfortunately for you, Cam... you're walking out of that ring as another eliminated statistic. Maybe not by my hands, but you'll be leaving that ring disappointed, believe me.

Why is that? Well, I'll be honest. You have a lot of focus going into this match, knowing to direct your words at what will likely be your toughest challenges. You back up this focus with two things that never failed you: undying confidence (which sometimes borderline arrogance), and a legitimate motivation. That, and you're one of NEW's most respected and talented athletes. All signs would indicate that you're the favored man to walk out of this with the win.

But you made the fatal mistake, Cameron... when you chose to forget that I was in this match.

Not that I blame you. Maybe it's because I take a few hours to say my piece, and it puts people to sleep... maybe it's just because I don't use flashy catch phrases and make a witty joke at the end of every sentence. In fact, I think back to my match against Jonathan Marx, when he practically had any idea of who he was going against. Because of his ignorance, he got his ass handed to him.

And because you ignore me, Cameron, you'll fall the same way.

Not saying you won't do well in this match... and in fact, I'd be honored if it ended up just being you and me, fighting for that final spot. I'm practically preparing myself for that moment.

But in your head, you're too busy thinking about the guys that don't matter. You're not visualizing the moment when it will be Cruise and Daymon in that ring. And when that time comes, and you're not prepared for it, how will you react when I'm staring right back at you in the ring?

You'll come to remember that moment in the future... when you see the look in my eyes as we cross paths in the ring. You'll remember it as the moment you saw the truth, that I was going to be the man to rise to the top, and nothing that put itself in my way would be left intact.

And win or lose this rumble, Cameron, that is EXACTLY what I intend to accomplish!

(Daymon turns to his bag and opens it, pulling out his wrestling gear.)

Daymon
So, here's how it will be, NEW...

I haven't been here as long as some of you.

I don't have as many fans as some of you.

And maybe nobody's thrilled over the fact that in the time it takes to watch one of my promos, you could probably do a day's worth of grocery shopping. Twice, if you're quick on your feet.

But none of you can deny that in the months since my arrival, I have done things that many so-called "legends" in this federation have failed to do through the bulk of their careers. And all without picking up a single strap of gold. But you know what? I could keep on going and just duck around accepting title shots... continue earning a rep as the man that ignored fame to challenge and conquer all competitors, new and old.

But the glimmer of that NEW World Title has caught my eye, and suddenly I remember how long it's been since I've had anything to brag over...

And is it wrong to stroke a bit of the ol' ego?

(Daymon holds out his right hand for the camera.)

Daymon
Here's the way I see it: this hand you see here has spent the past twenty-four months smacking the **** out of every man, whether it be a rookie or a veteran, a technical master or a hardcore suicide-machine. Over all that time, I've callussed and bruised these knuckles through all the punishment and pulverization.

These fingers need a vacation, and in my honest opinion, I'll stroke whatever the **** I feel like! I've earned the RIGHT to stroke this ego, because NONE OF YOU have proven to me that you stand above my level!

Because I get results... I go out there and back up my word with my actions. Haven't failed at that task yet, NEW, and I don't see how I will any time soon.

BattleBRAWL is tonight... and while you may not see me as a winner at the end of the match, you will DEFINITELY see a TRUE professional wrestler in action!

You guys can feel free to start dreaming about next year...

(Daymon smiles to the camera and gives it a final nod before turning to the bench and going through his things. The camera fades to black.)
 

AUMedina

New member
Joined
Jan 3, 2004
Messages
390
Points
0
Location
New York
Real Cute...

The camera fades in to a locker room inside Madison Square Garden. Sat against the lockers on a bench was none other than The Prodigal Son of Wrestling himself, Ulysis Solian. With a clove dangled from his lips, he just stared straight ahead, oblivious to the camera that was pointed at him.

Solian: ”Real cute…

Real f***ing cute…

And predictable of course…

How did I know when I shoot my mouth and speak nothing but the truth, that I would ruffle the feathers of a bunch of chickens***s?

You have Cameron Cruise, who ignores me, then when I step to him like a man with my words, rather than come from behind with a chair like the ***** he is, he finally finds his set of balls.

No one talked about Chad Dupree, man, so don’t use that as a crutch to make yourself feel so damn manly.

I snapped Rob Sampson’s neck. Whatever. Guy was outclassed and out of his league. Same thing happened with Tsunami. Put him through a table head first and where is he? Nowhere in sight.

Bailed? Hardly. They wanted me out. After seeing me destroy Sampson like you destroy a blow-up doll, they had their fill of me…or Suicide, rather. Hey, you hate Suicide? Me too. Congrats. We both have something in common. Last I heard, Suicide is tied up in some car wreckage. Where exactly is it? I couldn’t tell you nor do I even care.

A reality check. Heh. The only reality you showed me is how 95% of the wrestlers in this sport can’t step to me like a f***ing man. You’re like all the rest Cruise. You’re a nobody that no one cares about. The only ones that care about you are those who buy into your hype.

I have no hype. I have nothing. But I made a whole lot of something out of that nothing.

And you’re right; I don’t give a **** about you. Doesn’t mean I can’t noticed you have some sort of skill. Unfortunately it’s not enough to get your through this battle royal let alone in any kind of match with me. But you keep running your mouth, only to not back it up as usual.

Me? I can back it up and more. I have titles to prove it. I’ve defeated top names to prove it. But in this type of match, none of that s*** matters.

You finally have a chance to prove your manhood. I’ve always proven mine every time I get in that ring. You? You need help from chairs and wrestlers who are way past their prime. Maybe even some **** of a slut you hang around with. She probably has more of a set than you.

Yeah, real hard work in swinging a steel chair. Every backyard buffoon does it to impress their high school fans. I’m sure you got a few underage girls wetting their panties over that.

Oh and then there’s Rocko Daymon. For a guy who has a whole lot to say, he really did say nothing.

You can mock me and act like a hypocrite, which I knew from the beginning you would do, but in the end, does it take away the fact that you’re nothing compared to me?

You can put in all the words you want into my mouth and all I’m going to do is spit out the truth more and more. And what will you do in return? Start the whole cycle all over again with another two hour spiel about how I suck and you rule.

Great, kid. Real great.

How you got ‘I don’t care if I win’ to ‘I don’t expect to win.’, I’ll never know. It must be one of those common rookie mistakes your kind seems to make after years in this sport. You only want to see what you want to.

I guess this hack who already holds one title in one promotion just can’t cut it with the likes of you.

By the way, I didn’t know you were in to necrophilia, Rocko. Then again, considering how limp you are in your matches, it wouldn’t surprise me that it would take someone dead to get you up again.

And finally, I guess that “truck driver vernacular” got the best of you that you decided to throw some my way.

I’m touched.

But it’s like I said, when I speak, everyone pays attention. And when I spew the truth, people’s feelings get hurt, so much that they have to dedicate hours on end of inane babbling to get their point across, only that they never had a point and never seem to get it across.

Look, it doesn’t really matter what you think of me because in the end, we’re all gonna beat the holy hell out of each other for the amusement of the entire wrestling world. Someone’s gonna win, the rest are gonna lose.

Again, and I will state this over and over again until some of you idiots get it, I do not expect to win. To go into a match like this thinking you’re going to win is only going to bring disappointment. It’s why I don’t expect anything and most of the time, end up winning matches and titles. Because anything can truly happen. And that’s what it is great about our sport.

But I’m sure I haven’t heard the last from Cameron, Rocko, and the rest. They will continue to berate me because I spoke the real truth about them and how lame their careers have been so far.

You know though, even though I don’t expect to win, wouldn’t it be a f***ing hoot the one guy no one expects to come out of this alive, i.e. me, ends up with that World Title shot?

If that happens…

…I feel real sorry for New ERA of Wrestling.

But that’s just a pipe dream…

…or is it?”

Ulysis Solian turned to the camera and stared into it as it faded to black.
 

Jason Payne

New member
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
373
Points
0
Age
46
Location
Great Mills, Maryland
Fade In on Jason Payne standing in front of a New Era logo. He is wearing his trademarked black sunglasses, and his hair down over his shoulders. His arms are folded across his massive chest as he looks into the camera. It has been awhile since NEW has seen the Dog of War in such a state. As Payne speaks, it's in a soft growl, heard by all.

Payne - "I want to take this time to make a few things absolutely clear. It doesn't matter if you have been in New Era for a long time, or are just coming in for the opporotunity that this match is giving. It doesn't matter if you've held championships too numerous to mention. It doesn't matter that whether you've been in New Era, or your own league, how much praise has been heaped upon your name. It also doesn't matter if you have taken the time to promote yourself for this match, or whether you have stood by the sidelines."

"I'm going to to tell you guys straight up, with no hiding behind a gimmick, to tell you all man to man, just what I think. And you know something, you're all going to hang on my every word, and not because I think that I have an importance that ranks higher than the rest of you combined. No not at all. The reason I say this is because out of everyone in this Rumble, I am the most unpredictable. I'm the one that no one can prepare for, and therefore the one that everyone has quietly ignored."

"Oh don't get me wrong. I realize that I have been mentioned here and there by a few people. A few smart people who realize that I'm the most dangerous man in this thing. And you know, spare me the common response of how I'm just inflating my own self worth without being able to back it up. To tell you guys the truth, I'm very disappointed in each and every one of you. None of you have broken out from the pack and established yourself as the person to beat in this thing. No, far from it I say. And why do I say this? Well, for a number of reasons."

"Look at my face. Take a look at my *******ed face..."

The camera zooms in on Payne's face as Payne takes off the sunglasses. His dark eyes are burning with a barely containable anger.

Payne - "I'm not going to be like the rest of you, and come out here, and go down a list of people in this Rumble, cutting a long and boring promo that has the people out thier viewing this fall asleep in thier chairs. People come out here and talk about how thier not 'cookiee cutter' wrestlers and how they make thier own mark, yet they fall back into the most simple of habits and methods, proving that almost every particpant here is a victim of the bigger dick syndrome. Everyone wants to have to bigger dick here, but that fact is, none of you here quite have the tool to get the job done. Oh don't get me wrong, you hype a good game, but when it comes down to it, you have an average, wrinkly, flacid penis like the rest of us. You just won't admit it."

"Look at this face. Take a good long look..."

payne.gif


"I'm not here to win a popularity contest. I'm not here to put asses in the seats. I'm not here to make anyone elses dreams come true. I'm here because after toiling in this business for as long as I have, it's time. It's time that Jason Payne reaches up, and grabs that brass ring, and takes his place at the top of this business, and it all starts at the BattleBrawl. Last year, I should have won it. I had it won, but then some cross dressing Paris Hilton wannebe and his punk rocker Ellen Degeneres munching girlfriend got in my way. Needless to say, that won't happen again. If for one second, any of you think that you're dealing with the old Jason Payne, then you are sadly mistaken. If you think for a moment that I won't hurt Krist Blue, or break Mercedes Devon in half, then you're wrong. If you think I'll simply stop at getting the pinfall victory, or that I'm just going to play it nice and clean, then you're dead ****ing wrong people."

"Open your eyes and take a good look. All the talking is over. All this masturbating to yourself in the mirror is at an end. At the end of the day, only one person in this BattleBrawl is going to satnd tall, and it won't matter if you dressed up like a gay cowboy and went through the whole roster putting them down. It won't matter that you got high on crack and thought that you made your car fly. It won't matter how much brooding angst you have seething off your body. It won't matter how unholy you think you are. It's not even going to matter how much I talk, or how angry I appear. Now that being said, that doesn't mean I see myself as not winning. Far from it. I do see myself winning. However, unlike the other participants in this Rumble, I fully realize that I am not invincible, nor infallible. However, that being said, let me remind you all of something. Something that you aren't going to like."


The screen fades to black. Cue Up 'I'm Alive' by Disturbed. As the intro plays, several shotspreviously seen in Jason Payne promos are seen. They consists mostly of Payneville, the desolate and barren hometown of Jason Payne. Several of the old buildings are seen. Hollowed out and broken down buildings that no longer serve a purpose. During the sequence of worn out facades, the last one seen is that of a newly rebuilt Basham-Schultz Wrestling Academy. As David Dramain starts up his trademarked growling vocals, CUT TO a shot from last years BattleBRAWL where MWG eliminates Jason Payne and Cameron Cruise.

Lyric - "Never again will I be dishonored"

Cut to several scenes shown in rapid succession of the Payne/MWG fued, with MWG gyrating over the fallen Payne.

Lyric - "And never again will I be reminded"

Cut to a scene of the 'new' Jason Payne in a Versace gown at the top of the ramp blowing kisses to the public.

Lyric - "Of living within the world of the jaded"

Cut to a shot of Chaos pummeling Payne in the corner.

Lyric - "They kill inspiration"

Cut to a shot of a bloodied Payne pulling himself up from out of the corner of the ring.

Lyric - It's my obligation"

Cut to a shot of the bloodied Payne making his way up the ramp slowly, his head hanging low. As the next verse ends, this image fades out.

Lyric - "To never again, allow this to happen"

Cut in from the black screen, a rapid sequence of the faces of each of the particpants of the BattleBRAWL; ALISTER HAYZE, CAMERON CRUISE, JOHN DOE, STEVE JOHNSON, TREVOR CANE, CHRIS McMILLAN, HAL, MR. ENTERTAINMENT, DAYMON, OZEKI, JR WHITE, TOMMY O'HAGAN, STEVEN SHANE, JOEY MELTON, COPYCAT, LUSCIOUS, ULYSIS SOLIAN, MWG, and SHAWN HART.

Lyric - "Where do I begin? The choices are endless"

Cut to a shot of Cameron Cruise and Jason Payne trading punches at last years BattleBRAWL.

Lyric - "Denying the sin"

Cut to a shot of Payne kidnapping Krist Blue and taking her up the ramp during MWG/Mr. Entertainment's match.

Lyric - "My art, my redemption"

Cut to Payne standing on the second turnbuckle, his right fist raised in the air prior to a match.

Lyric - "I carry the torch of my fathers before me"

The previous shot cuts into a close-up shot of the N.E.W. World title slung over the shoulder of the current champion. As the song goes into the chorus, it's not the main chorus from the song, but rather the reprised chorus that occures near the end of the song that is slightly softer, and less driven with guitars and drums than the main chorus.

Lyric - "The thing I treasure most in life cannot be taken away"

Cut to a shot of Jason Payne and Marcus Marcus LaRoque staring each other down face to face. Marcus with a 'Take No ****' look on his face and Payne with a 'I'm Gonna Rip Your ****ing Head Off' look on his.

Lyric - "There will never be a reason why I will surrender to your advice"

Cut a shot of Payne looking up and arching an eyebrow at someone out of shot, then cutting to a shot of Payne putting Derecho through a flaming table.

Lyric - "To change myself, I'd rather die"

Cut to a shot of Payne wrestling with staples in his head as the result of his car accident two years ago..

Lyric - "Though they will not understand"

Cut to a shot of Payne pulling Carlee Marx and Brandon Jacobs out of the ring.

Lyric - "I won't make the greatest sacrifice"

Cut to Payne putting Jay through the Payne Killer from the T.V. tournament matches right after the last BattleBRAWL.

Lyric - "You can't predict where the outcome lies"

Cu to a shot of Payne from an ol promo where he looks out across the landscape of Payneville.

Lyric - "You'll never take me alive"

Cut to a shot of Payne leveling MWG with a steel chair.

Lyric - "I'm alive"

Cut to a shot of Payne leveling Cameron Cruise with a steel chair.

Lyric - "I'm alive"

Cut to a shot of Payne driving the tank over DREDD's limo.

Lyric - "I'm alive"

Cut to a shot of Jason Payne at the top of the ramp, looking down towards the ring, his eyes focused on the job that lays ahead of him. On this shot, we FADE TO BLACK.
 

About FWrestling

FWrestling.com was founded in 1994 to promote a community of fantasy wrestling fans and leagues. Since then, we've hosted dozens of leagues and special events, and thousands of users. Come join and prove you're "Even Better Than The Real Thing."

Add Your League

If you want to help grow the community of fantasy wrestling creators, consider hosting your league here on FW. You gain access to message boards, Discord, your own web space and the ability to post pages here on FW. To discuss, message "Chad" here on FW Central.

What Is FW?

Take a look at some old articles that are still relevant regarding what fantasy wrestling is and where it came from.
  • Link: "What is FW?"
  • Top