MAIN EVENT: File & Jack n' Hoff (c) v Dogs of War & Hart (c)

[TheOriginalSE]

All RP for the MAIN EVENT six man match between PETER FILE, JACK N HOFF (c) and DOGS OF WAR, SHAWN HART (c) at RAUCOUS should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

*THERE IS A TWO RP PER COMPETITOR LIMIT.
- The teams of Jack n' Hoff and Dogs of War are considered "1 competitor." Therefore, they are limited to 2 RPs total each, not four (2 per each member).



The RP deadline is 11:59pm PST on SUNDAY, April 4, 2010. Angles should be sent to neweraofwrestling@gmail.com ..

 

[ShawnHartXXX]

Quick Shot of AWESOMENESS

FADE IN:

The Club - 2 A.M.

Kicking back amidst the fake go-go dancers, faux patrons, and muzak of the makeshift club scene is New Era Heavyweight Champion SHAWN JESSICA HART, PhD. Sitting alone at a table, the sweet gyrations of his private dancer's supple booty in his face are visible as the camera closes on his smiling mug. Upon reaching its destination, SJH looks into it and speaks.

SJH: "Praise the maker for the invention of the female form!"

He gives that ass a quick tap.

SJH: "YO - Pro Wrestling's SJH here, and as I sit amongst my fellow creatures of the night, taking in the sounds... and the sights..."

He glances up at the posterior that sways before him.

SJH: "...I can't help but reflect upon the chain of events that led to me being here; gettin' in on the WFW:NE merger, setting the place ablaze, and surviving the subsequent divorce to emerge as the NEW New Era CHAMP, reclaiming my former title in grand fashion, adding to my ever-growing stash of GOLD and cementing my status as the HOTTEST thing in the industry! I mean WOW.... talk about a roller coaster ride, huh?"

Hart chuckles to himself, then reaches into his pocket, retrieves a dollar (Yep.. ONE dollar) and places it into the thong strap moving before his eyes.

SJH: "But as with every other roller coaster, each high is followed by a series of turns and twists and sudden drops before you reach the end of the line. This week, that 360 whirly-twirl comes in the form of a 6-man tag-team MAIN EVENT; Yours truly and the Dogs of War versus JACK, HOFF, and the creepiest of man-harlots, the contemptible PETER FILE!"

SJH shakes his head quite disgustedly.

SJH: "A lesser man might fold under the constant pressure of such a gauntlet. HELL, I just went through a veritable who's who of Empire Pro Wrestling, New Era, and NGEN stars in a barrage of matches at the Sin City Showdown, and now... only DAYS LATER, I've got this and other bouts to contend with. I mean, my workrate is SICK! But ya know what?!"

He stares inquisitively into the camera.

SJH: "Well.... DO YOU?"

Shawn chuckles at himself before trudging forward.

SJH: "Heh, honestly... I wouldn't have it any other way! Cuz carrying the straps that I carry mark my sweet, succulent ass as the bee's knees, the BEST of the BEST in this business, and so long as I hold 'em, I intend to go out there each and EVERY NIGHT and prove to the masses that I DESERVE those labels! Call it a mockery, call it an OUTRAGE, I call it the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter is that despite the constant roadblocks on my path to glory, the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister will always come out on top!

So Peter File, Jack N Hoff, hit me with your best shots! Cuz I am rubber, you are GLUE, and every bit of bullsh(FCC)t you toss at me is gonna bounce off me and B(FCC)TCHSLAP YOU!"

He grins.

SJH: "See you in the ring, boys. The PHENOM has left the building!"

FADE OUT.

 

[TrevorCane]

(The camera cuts in just as a rolled up towel is raised in the air and snapped down. SNAP! Almost immediately after we hear a yell.)

“GOD DAMMIT, JACK!”

(The camera pulls back as we see Jack standing over a couch. Lying, face down in the cushion, Hoff raises his hand and swats at the air. The living room is a complete mess! There are champaigne bottles, beer bottles, water bottles, so many bottles! The New ERA World Heavyweight tag team titles are stretched out across the glass coffee table. Jack rolls up the towel, preparing to strike again.)

“You do that one more time and I am going to get off this couch and whoop your ass into next Tuesday.”

“See You Next Tuesday!”

(Flick of the wrist. Snap. Grunt. Jack goes tumbling over the coffee table and lands on his ass.)

“Ow!”

“That’s what you get! Jesus, what time is it?”

(Jack looks at his imaginary watch.)

“Half passed a monkey’s ass and quarter to his balls.”

(Hoff glares at his partner and wipes his face.)

“What day is it?”

(Jack shrugs and grabs one of the belts off the table.)

“Who cares! It’s Jack n’ Hoff are World Tag Team Champs Day EVERYDAY!”

(Hoff rolls his eyes, a small smile as he hears those words.)

“Does have a good ring to it, huh?”

“Damn straight it does!”

(Hoff sits up and looks at his phone.)

“Aw sh*t.”

(Jack cocks his head.)

“What?”

“I forgot, we have a match tomorrow.”

“Oh sh*t, you’re right.”

(Jack reaches around under a blanket on the floor and grabs a bottle of Dos Equis.)

“But who cares! We’re Jack n’ Hoff, World Tag Team Champs!”

(He pops open the top and begins chugging.)

“This is kinda important, Jack. We have Shawn Hart and the Dogs of War to worry about.”

(Jack holds up a finger telling Hoff to wait while he finishes the bottle. He burps and wipes the excess from his lip.)

“Yea, but we’re Jac…”

“Oh God, stop.”

“Ok, ok. It’s not like we’ve missed much anyway. Hart looks like he’s been too busy giving money to transsexuals.”

(Hoff shakes out the mental image.)

“And the Dogs of War are off somewhere marking their territory. Must be mating season, must be in heat.”

(Hoff rolls his eyes again.)

“All I’m saying is that we haven’t lost any ground or anything.”

“Jack, we’ve spent the last how many weeks celebrating?”

“Three? Or four? I can’t remember. After that cruise with the midget strippers I lost track.”

“Exactly. We need to shower, get dressed, and get over to the gym for some last minute cramming.”

“Uh, Hoff.”

(Jack stands.)

“Our partner in this match is Peter File, so can you ixnay on the ower-shay and the amming-cray, please?"

(Hoff shoots Jack a look of disgust.)

“Dude, shutup. C’mon let’s go. I’ll wash your hard to reach places first.”

“OH MY GO--.”

(The camera fades.)