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Jupiter Jones

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League Member
Aug 8, 2007
I'm going to be upfront about the fact that I've joined DEF before and have not had a successful run (I dropped out of the MoW). I plan on changing that this time around. Hopefully you guys will give me another shot in this angle fed format. This is a new creation and I've already got some character progress and possibly storylines in mind. I don't want to give everything away, but I can definitely discuss a bit.


Handler Information

Name: Biron
Preferred Method of Handling: RP, Angle, Hybrid
Best Way to Contact: AIM (MFIC Biron) or PM
EW Experience: 10+ / NFW, ACW, Defiance (albeit unsuccessfully)
How Did You Find Defiance? Justin

Writing Sample
This is from a RP Fed, obviously. If anybody wants to see segments and/or matches I’ve written let me know.

(CUTTO: Don Det, Laos; A modest bungalow shaded by palm trees on the bank of the Mekong River. CUTTO: The inside of said bungalow, where an assumably au naturel LANE CASH, his private area covered by a white, bath towel-sized sheet, is lying face up on a cushioned, bamboo massage table. A young Laotian woman - she could be eighteen, she could be thirty - is rubbing down Lane’s thighs. To his left and right, the BEAUTIFUL BLONDES, just barely covered by their sheets, are also getting worked on by similarly aged Laotian women. HIGH-ANGLE CUTTO: LANE reaches above his shoulder, fishes a cigarette from an open pack of Pall Malls, which are next to his Ray-Ban Cats 5000 shades, and clamps it between pressed lips.)

CASH: “C’mon, Suke. (sparks cigarette, sits up) Either that knot in my right thigh’s goin’ or you are. One word to Chow Puxe (her eyes go wide) and you’re doin’ Bamboo Shows on the Mekong for dirty-dicked pirates. (raises eyebrows) PRO BONO.”

(As SUKE starts doing double-time on that thigh, a content LANE lies back down and takes a few charges off his Pall Mall Long.)

CASH: “A little incentive can go a long way. Somethin’ that the EN-EFF-DUB finally realized after weeks of watchin’ Lane Cash sleepwalkin’ through the competition. Whether it’s the threat of your vaginal tract bein’ transformed into a cactus via bamboo slivers or, say, a World Title shot, uppin’ the ante is never a bad idea. No doubt the brass saw their CASH COW sleepin’ standin’ up during the last few Grand Prix events. That a once-in-a-lifetime Athletic Marvel was startin’ to lose interest and FAST. That, even though they’d run out their nice, little dog and pony show, I was still mailin’ it in. (shrugs) They desperately needed to get this Money Train back on the tracks. They had Emergency Meeting after Emergency Meeting. They even rehired that hot artsy broad. (smirks) Then, like a mystical Slingshot Dropkick from YOURS TRULY, the one’s where time seems to slow down, where the only reasonable explanation for my hang time is that I briefly went into ORBIT, it hit them in smack dab in their blowholes. Lob a World Title shot right into his WHEELHOUSE. Mission Accomplished, Board of Directors. Amsterdam just became the HOTTEST TICKET in town. President Edward Mayfield himself is gonna have to scalp tickets to get in. That’s why Lane Cash is the Greatest Show on Earth.”

(LANE nods, takes a drag from his cigarette, and exhales through his nostrils.)

CASH: (holds up hand) “Rook, bro, before you break another desk lamp and cry yourself to sleep, let me explain. That title you have is nothin’ to sneeze at. If it was mine, I would treat it like a newborn baby - cradle it in my arms, sing a lullaby or two, and then brain the first dickhat that looked at me wrong with it. The thing is … (pauses to eyeball Suke) my time is precious. I’ve got shit to do. So everything comes down to WORK versus REWARD. A shot at your title just doesn’t make the grade, man. The common folk would show up in droves to see you and me. And, hey, I’d gladly let you hitch your JALOPY to my MINT-CONDITION ‘69 Firebird. You could strap on your Dexter’s Laboratory backpack and come sit in the back of the bus with the Big Kids. Oh man, you’d be excited. (takes a puff, exhales) Except, sooner or later, you’d ask one too many questions. You’d tug on my shirt one too many times. And that’s when I bash your dome into the bus window, open up the back hatch, and send you packin’ with nothin’, but a Hit the Road, Black! (chuckles) As I was sayin’, you and that title are not the problem, man. It’s the fact that I’d have to go through and merc the greatest FAILURES and VIRGINS that wrestlin’ has to offer to take it from you. And considering most of these punks shoulda been flushed, I was lookin’ at losin’ at least a half-hour that’s not comin’ back.”

(LANE snuffs his Pall Mall out on the side of the bamboo table.)

CASH: “Except now, the Big Belt has been put into play and King Cash has become INVESTED. This is what they needed. There’s only one man that can turn the Red Light District into a GHOST TOWN and that’s Mr. Saturday Night Ride (thumbs chest) himself. I’m the Money Shot as far as EN-EFF-DUB goes. That’s why they damn near HANDED me this World Title shot with a BOW ON IT. Nobody wants to see De Mayo, or Jack Harmen, or that ground-huggin’ Alex Austin. They want to see Lane Cash blowin’ chumps up like a Heat-Seeking Missile and that’s exactly what they’re gonna see. Look at that stip. (smirks) I do better slingshot work than Dennis the f(bleep!)in’ Menace. Hey, I’m not sayin’ these idiots can’t fly. I’m sayin’ that there’s nobody else in the WORLD with my HOPS. The rest of these clowns are millin’ around like a herd of antelope, just happy to be eatin’ up some green. (gestures money sign) I’m like a Bengal Tiger - except eight or nine times more rare - and I’m settin’ these fools up for the kill. (rubs hands together) We're not even on the same LEVEL. That’s what happens when you’re fightin’ over nickels and dimes at your feet. You never even think to look up and see the HUNDREDS flyin’ over your heads. (big smirk) That World Title shot is mine by Divine Right of KINGS. Remember, peasants, CASH IS KING!”

(The shot FTB as LANE rolls over onto his stomach.)

Wrestler(s) Information

Ring Name: Jupiter Jones
Height: 7’1”
Weight: 405 lbs.

Hailing From: Harlem (Manhattan), New York

Alignment: Face

Gimmick: Gentle-ish Giant w/ a meanstreak in certain situations. Besides his family, Jones is not a terribly trusting person. Former Hoops Star that burned down bridges in basketball.

Wrestling Style: Powerhouse, Surprisingly Athletic

Three Weaknesses:
1. Inexperienced
2. Stamina / Long Matches

Three Strengths:
1. Unmatched Power (blended w/ decent athleticism)
2. Young (No nagging injuries)
3. Experience (Learns every week)


Eight Regular Moves:

1. Headbutt
2. Open-handed Chop
3. Forearm Shots
4. Short-arm Clothesline
5. Fallaway Slam / Sidewalk Slam
6. Flying Shoulder Tackle
7. Full Nelson Slam
8. Military Press Buster

2-5 Trademark Moves

1. Running/Jumping Knee Strike
2. Toss Powerbomb (into buckles or wherever)
3. Bear Hug -> Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex

Finishing Move:

1. Throwdown (Chokeslam)


Active member
Staff member
Feb 4, 2005
Looks pretty solid to me also. Yes.


League Member
Apr 12, 2008
I don't know about the name... I used to read this series of books called The Three Investigators, and in those "Jupiter Jones" was a really smart fat kid.


League Member
Aug 8, 2007
"Jupiter" is a nickname, but I can definitely change that last name if it's going to be primarily associated with a really smart fat kid - not the first impression I'm looking for w/ this guy. :cool:


Jan 11, 2013
The Land of Cheese
You're in, but I'm late to the part as usual.

Keep the name. Because who reads books and shit? (right, right?) Jupiter Jones sounds awesome.

Also. Based on the size, it's like Diablo, if it made any fucking sense (big guy who does big guy stuff).
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