Roleplay goes here. 2 RP limit for this round.
Round 1: Sylo vs. The Big Sauce Man (j)
- Thread starter Chad
- Start date
J The Ripper
FWrestling's Reckoning
Static…
Acquiring signal...
Connected…
Sylo stood in front of a camera with an obvious look of frustration. His giant, tattoo covered arms were crossed over his chest as he looked away from the camera. He seemed to be mid rant when the connection established.
“Seriously? Big Sausage, Big Saw, Big Swine, it really doesn’t matter does it? Apparently these ass clowns want me to kill this tournament. They could have stuck me with anyone…ANYONE…and my first round match is a give me? “
Sylo snarled, spit, and turned toward the camera that was broadcasting.
“I’m not wasting my time on this guy. So I’m talking directly to the parasites running this joke. Your tournament ends with me. After I’m done breaking these has beens and never haves I’m going to take the Ultratitle, hold it over a trashcan, and light it on fire. After that I’m going to put the ashes in a nice urn, hold a beautiful service, and let all of you cry over your lost glory. I came here to destroy, I came here to slaughter, and you mock me with this?” Sylo’s solid blue eyes were now almost snake like. A predator. His hair was long and all traces of blue were gone; replaced by jet black. Old and fresh scars clashed on his torso. They were obvious medals of previous wars. Some won, some lost, but always came out alive.
“Sheep…all sheep…flock to me sheep…”
The feed began to break up.
“Sheep”
Static
“Flock to me sheep and I shall slaughter you all,” Sylo’s eyes gleamed with malice.
Signal lost.
End Transmission.
Static...
Acquiring signal...
Connected…
Sylo stood in front of a camera with an obvious look of frustration. His giant, tattoo covered arms were crossed over his chest as he looked away from the camera. He seemed to be mid rant when the connection established.
“Seriously? Big Sausage, Big Saw, Big Swine, it really doesn’t matter does it? Apparently these ass clowns want me to kill this tournament. They could have stuck me with anyone…ANYONE…and my first round match is a give me? “
Sylo snarled, spit, and turned toward the camera that was broadcasting.
“I’m not wasting my time on this guy. So I’m talking directly to the parasites running this joke. Your tournament ends with me. After I’m done breaking these has beens and never haves I’m going to take the Ultratitle, hold it over a trashcan, and light it on fire. After that I’m going to put the ashes in a nice urn, hold a beautiful service, and let all of you cry over your lost glory. I came here to destroy, I came here to slaughter, and you mock me with this?” Sylo’s solid blue eyes were now almost snake like. A predator. His hair was long and all traces of blue were gone; replaced by jet black. Old and fresh scars clashed on his torso. They were obvious medals of previous wars. Some won, some lost, but always came out alive.
“Sheep…all sheep…flock to me sheep…”
The feed began to break up.
“Sheep”
Static
“Flock to me sheep and I shall slaughter you all,” Sylo’s eyes gleamed with malice.
Signal lost.
End Transmission.
Static...