Russian Roulette - Simply Beautiful vs. Cameron Cruise vs. Mystery Opponent
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
A SECRET LOCATION<o
></o>
3:42 A.M.<o></o>
<o> </o>
Reggie Lancaster was pissed.<o></o>
<o> </o>
He wasn’t surprised, however. In the twenty odd years he had spent serving his nation as a member of its Central Intelligence Agency, having his ass woken up and dragged into work at two in the morning was practically protocol. Needless to say, when he got the call from Simmons, he nearly ripped him a new asshole over the phone.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“This better be good, Simmons,” he grumbled as he entered the control room, still wearing his bathrobe.<o></o>
<o> </o>
The pale, younger man seemed to lose several shades of color as his superior gruffly approached him. The reports he had been getting in overseas had already caused the aide to wane significantly.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“I’m sorry to wake you, sir,” Simmons said for the sixth or seventh time. “But General Howard told me it was a matter of utmost importance.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> tore the papers from his hands and took his seat at the helm of the large bustling control room. You really couldn’t tell it was so early by the way everybody was moving about, but the senior intelligence officer hardly cared at this point. He glanced only briefly at the reports before tossing them aside.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“Just give me the abridged version, Simmons,” he said. His secretary, Ross, flanked his other side and handed him a mug of steaming coffee. He promptly thanked her, took a sip, and looked to his aide. “Another Taliban convoy? Satellite pick up something unusual out there in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Iraq</st1lace></st1:country-region>?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“Wrong side of the globe, sir,” Simmons responded quietly. “It’s an unidentified object moving east across the Pacific.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> could feel the muscles in his face tense up ever so slightly. “Pull it up.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The left-most screen on the far wall revealed the anomaly of question on the neon-lined map of the globe… a tiny blip off the coast of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Japan</st1lace></st1:country-region> that seemed to be moving at an unusual pace. For a moment, the room went quiet as all eyes fell upon the drifting object.<o></o>
<o> </o>
The senior intelligence official sneered. “What is it? A boat?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“To slow to be a boat, but too fast and direct to be simply drifting,” Simmons pointed out. “Satellite photos suggest that whatever it is, it’s bipedal.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“You’re telling me that it’s swimming?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
Simmons swallowed hard. Something about this seemed too unusual to be true, but… there was living proof, staring back at their faces. “We don’t quite know yet, sir. Whatever it is, it’s living—possibly bipedal—and making a bee-line toward the west American coastline.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The muscles in the older man’s face tensed again. “Zoom.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The middle section of the world map faded, revealing a blow-up of the area roughly around 147 degrees latitude and 33 degrees longitude. The object was marked by a square blip, which snailed its way bit by bit away from the Japanese coastline.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“So what we’re dealing with is an unidentified swimming object that’s exiting foreign waters,” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> said gruffly. “We don’t quite know what it is, or whether or not it’s alive. So what’s the cause for concern?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
Simmons seemed to go white. Apparently, that was the question he didn’t want to be asked. Still, he cleared his throat, gave some directions to Miranda who worked at the digital archiving station, and turned to his superior officer, speaking the following just above a whisper: “What you’re about to see is <st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Osaka</st1lace></st1:city> as of three hours ago.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The blow-up quickly cut to what looked like news footage taken from a camera crew. A petite Japanese woman stood before the camera speaking in a foreign language. Behind her was a scene of absolute catastrophe. Buildings were burning. The streets were littered. People were running amok, screaming in fear.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“God Almighty,” the older man managed to choke out. “This thing in the ocean did all that? What the **** is it… Godzilla?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The footage moved into the b-roll, showing doorways blown open and windows broken into. There were other things, too, that unsettled the normally traditional mind of Reggie Lancaster: Grooves in concrete that couldn’t have been made by normal flesh and bone.<o></o>
<o> </o>
An awe-struck fear replaced his irritation, and suddenly, he wished more than ever that he hadn’t got out of bed.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“Has anybody been on the horn with the people in charge over there?” he inquired.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“We’ve maintained contact, sir,” Simmons reported. “But their reports are infrequent and convoluted. Nobody can give us a clear explanation on what hit them. Whatever it was, it was fast, loud, and huge. It was said that it carried off those that couldn’t escape it in time.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“Any casualties?”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“None reported,” said the aide, which made things even more strange. “It just came and blew the entire city apart, and left as quick as it came. Eye-witnesses keep referring to it as a ‘Dai-Chinpoko’.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“What the hell is a ‘Dai Chin Pocko?” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> demanded, his fist slamming down on the desk before him. “It’s like they’re speaking some other kind of language! Get me a damn translator!”<o></o>
<o> </o>
The senior intelligence official pushed himself to his feet and went for the door, continuing to give orders. “Keep your eye on whatever the hell that thing is. If it maintains course, it could prove to be a threat to our national security. If that one thing does all that to a city out in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Japan</st1lace></st1:country-region>, then I sure as hell don’t want it over here.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
“What will I tell General Howard?” Simmons called after him.<o></o>
<o> </o>
“You call up that tubby piece of **** and tell him to get his fat ass over here, pronto,” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> barked over his shoulder. “Consider the Terror Threat: Yellow, in the meantime. That alone should tighten his sphincter enough to drag is sorry hide down here.”<o></o>
<o> </o>
Hastily, the senior intelligence officer of the CIA pushed open the doors leading out of the control room, Ross clacking at his heels. His day was getting worse by the minute.<o></o>
></o>3:42 A.M.<o
></o><o
> </o>Reggie Lancaster was pissed.<o
></o><o
> </o>He wasn’t surprised, however. In the twenty odd years he had spent serving his nation as a member of its Central Intelligence Agency, having his ass woken up and dragged into work at two in the morning was practically protocol. Needless to say, when he got the call from Simmons, he nearly ripped him a new asshole over the phone.<o
></o><o
> </o>“This better be good, Simmons,” he grumbled as he entered the control room, still wearing his bathrobe.<o
></o><o
> </o>The pale, younger man seemed to lose several shades of color as his superior gruffly approached him. The reports he had been getting in overseas had already caused the aide to wane significantly.<o
></o><o
> </o>“I’m sorry to wake you, sir,” Simmons said for the sixth or seventh time. “But General Howard told me it was a matter of utmost importance.”<o
></o><o
> </o><st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> tore the papers from his hands and took his seat at the helm of the large bustling control room. You really couldn’t tell it was so early by the way everybody was moving about, but the senior intelligence officer hardly cared at this point. He glanced only briefly at the reports before tossing them aside.<o></o><o
> </o>“Just give me the abridged version, Simmons,” he said. His secretary, Ross, flanked his other side and handed him a mug of steaming coffee. He promptly thanked her, took a sip, and looked to his aide. “Another Taliban convoy? Satellite pick up something unusual out there in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Iraq</st1lace></st1:country-region>?”<o></o><o
> </o>“Wrong side of the globe, sir,” Simmons responded quietly. “It’s an unidentified object moving east across the Pacific.”<o
></o><o
> </o><st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> could feel the muscles in his face tense up ever so slightly. “Pull it up.”<o></o><o
> </o>The left-most screen on the far wall revealed the anomaly of question on the neon-lined map of the globe… a tiny blip off the coast of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Japan</st1lace></st1:country-region> that seemed to be moving at an unusual pace. For a moment, the room went quiet as all eyes fell upon the drifting object.<o></o><o
> </o>The senior intelligence official sneered. “What is it? A boat?”<o
></o><o
> </o>“To slow to be a boat, but too fast and direct to be simply drifting,” Simmons pointed out. “Satellite photos suggest that whatever it is, it’s bipedal.”<o
></o><o
> </o>“You’re telling me that it’s swimming?”<o
></o><o
> </o>Simmons swallowed hard. Something about this seemed too unusual to be true, but… there was living proof, staring back at their faces. “We don’t quite know yet, sir. Whatever it is, it’s living—possibly bipedal—and making a bee-line toward the west American coastline.”<o
></o><o
> </o>The muscles in the older man’s face tensed again. “Zoom.”<o
></o><o
> </o>The middle section of the world map faded, revealing a blow-up of the area roughly around 147 degrees latitude and 33 degrees longitude. The object was marked by a square blip, which snailed its way bit by bit away from the Japanese coastline.<o
></o><o
> </o>“So what we’re dealing with is an unidentified swimming object that’s exiting foreign waters,” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> said gruffly. “We don’t quite know what it is, or whether or not it’s alive. So what’s the cause for concern?”<o></o><o
> </o>Simmons seemed to go white. Apparently, that was the question he didn’t want to be asked. Still, he cleared his throat, gave some directions to Miranda who worked at the digital archiving station, and turned to his superior officer, speaking the following just above a whisper: “What you’re about to see is <st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Osaka</st1lace></st1:city> as of three hours ago.”<o></o><o
> </o>The blow-up quickly cut to what looked like news footage taken from a camera crew. A petite Japanese woman stood before the camera speaking in a foreign language. Behind her was a scene of absolute catastrophe. Buildings were burning. The streets were littered. People were running amok, screaming in fear.<o
></o><o
> </o>“God Almighty,” the older man managed to choke out. “This thing in the ocean did all that? What the **** is it… Godzilla?”<o
></o><o
> </o>The footage moved into the b-roll, showing doorways blown open and windows broken into. There were other things, too, that unsettled the normally traditional mind of Reggie Lancaster: Grooves in concrete that couldn’t have been made by normal flesh and bone.<o
></o><o
> </o>An awe-struck fear replaced his irritation, and suddenly, he wished more than ever that he hadn’t got out of bed.<o
></o><o
> </o>“Has anybody been on the horn with the people in charge over there?” he inquired.<o
></o><o
> </o>“We’ve maintained contact, sir,” Simmons reported. “But their reports are infrequent and convoluted. Nobody can give us a clear explanation on what hit them. Whatever it was, it was fast, loud, and huge. It was said that it carried off those that couldn’t escape it in time.”<o
></o><o
> </o>“Any casualties?”<o
></o><o
> </o>“None reported,” said the aide, which made things even more strange. “It just came and blew the entire city apart, and left as quick as it came. Eye-witnesses keep referring to it as a ‘Dai-Chinpoko’.”<o
></o><o
> </o>“What the hell is a ‘Dai Chin Pocko?” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> demanded, his fist slamming down on the desk before him. “It’s like they’re speaking some other kind of language! Get me a damn translator!”<o></o><o
> </o>The senior intelligence official pushed himself to his feet and went for the door, continuing to give orders. “Keep your eye on whatever the hell that thing is. If it maintains course, it could prove to be a threat to our national security. If that one thing does all that to a city out in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Japan</st1lace></st1:country-region>, then I sure as hell don’t want it over here.”<o></o><o
> </o>“What will I tell General Howard?” Simmons called after him.<o
></o><o
> </o>“You call up that tubby piece of **** and tell him to get his fat ass over here, pronto,” <st1:city w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Lancaster</st1lace></st1:city> barked over his shoulder. “Consider the Terror Threat: Yellow, in the meantime. That alone should tighten his sphincter enough to drag is sorry hide down here.”<o></o><o
> </o>Hastily, the senior intelligence officer of the CIA pushed open the doors leading out of the control room, Ross clacking at his heels. His day was getting worse by the minute.<o
></o>Bruno N' Beauty
League Member
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2006
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“OK, so...what just happened?”
<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comfficeffice" /><o> </o>
Fade in. Mike Castagnoli, friend and trainer of brand new EPW superstar Simply Beautiful, is running down a hotel hallway clutching a videotape.
<o> </o>
MC: Oh man, oh man, I gotta tell him! SB! SB!
<o> </o>
He keeps running, sweat dripping down his brow as he burns it all the way down the long hall in near-record time. He gets to SB’s room – Room One-Twelve, of course – and knocks three times as per SB’s rules. Hey, he could be in there nailin’ Miss Universe, and if those pictures get on some asshole’s MySpace it could ruin her career.
<o> </o>
SB: Who is it?
<o> </o>
MC: Mike. Open up, I gotta show you something.
<o> </o>
SB: It’s two in the morning. Can’t this wait? And where the hell is your key?
<o> </o>
MC: I’m telling you, that girl with the nipple tassels took it from our room last night!
<o> </o>
SB: Darla? She wouldn’t do that man. No way.
<o> </o>
MC: Look, whatever! Just open the door.
<o> </o>
SB opens the door, and his bandanna-ed head pops out.
<o> </o>
SB: (nodding up) What’s the tape? You bought porn dude? I’m not comfortable watching porn at the same time as you.
<o> </o>
MC: It’s not porn. (pushes the door in as SB backs up) It’s a promo from Empire Pro Wrestling.
<o> </o>
SB: You just woke me up at two AM so I could watch Cameron Cruise verbally masturbate?
<o> </o>
MC: No, because first of all it’s not Cruises. It’s the “mystery guy.”
<o> </o>
SB: Oh boy, here we go. What is it, one of those videos where the guy has a shadow on his face and a voice changer?
<o> </o>
MC: No, not quite. In fact I don’t think he even appeared in the entire video.
<o> </o>
SB: So how do you know it’s him? It could have been anybody. It could have been that Sean Stevens guy, he cuts promos on everyone.
<o> </o>
MC: No, it’s not Sean Stevens either. Unless he’s in the CIA.
<o> </o>
SB: What’s the CIA got to do with professional wrestling?
<o> </o>
MC: Absolutely nothing.
<o> </o>
SB: So why even bring that up?
<o> </o>
MC: Because the video has CIA agents in it.
<o> </o>
SB: Um…this may end up being on VH1’s Dumbest Celebrity Quotes list, but…am I wrestling General Michael V. Hayden at Russian Roulette 2007?
<o> </o>
MC: No. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t double as a professional wrestler.
<o> </o>
SB: Thank God. My taxes aren’t in order.
<o> </o>
MC: The CIA could give a **** about your taxes, you’re thinking of the FBI.
<o> </o>
SB: Wait, I’m wrestling Robert Mueller?
<o> </o>
MC: No, but since when do you know so much about the government?
<o> </o>
SB: The TV’s broken and I’ve been watching C-Span all night trying to fall asleep.
<o> </o>
MC: Of course. Well, anyway, back to the tape. Ready to watch it?
<o> </o>
SB: No, I don’t really want to.
<o> </o>
MC: Come on, you have to! EPW wants you to turn some stuff in for this week, too.
<o> </o>
SB: I’m getting airtime already? I told you they’d love me here, and you were all like “let’s go to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comffice:smarttags" /><st1:City w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Stamford</st1lace></st1:City>”. Jackass.
<o> </o>
MC: Would you just shut up and watch the video?
<o> </o>
SB: Alright, but we gotta go to A&W later. You ever just crave a chili dog real bad out of the blue? I mean, I’m sittin’ down and listening to Senator from <st1:State w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Hawaii</st1lace></st1:State> talk about that really bad drought they’ve been havin’, and BAM! It was like a punch in the face tellin’ me to go buy a chili dog!
<o> </o>
MC: I’ll just put the tape in.
<o></o>
<o>========================================================= </o>
<o></o>
Cut to a close-up on SB’s face.
<o> </o>
SB: What the **** was that?
<o> </o>
Back to normal view.
<o> </o>
SB: Was that Kenneth Branagh playin’ the fake CIA guy?
<o> </o>
MC: It looked like him, didn’t it?
<o> </o>
SB: Yeah...
<o> </o>
SB starts to think…and suddenly, a light bulb goes off!
<o> </o>
SB: HOLY ****! Do you know what we have here Mikey? This is a scene from that Cloverfield movie! Put that **** on YouTube, we’re gonna be rich!
<o> </o>
SB runs over to the kitchen to turn his laptop on.
<o> </o>
MC: Come on, I really don’t think that EPW would have that kind of-
<o> </o>
SB: What company is makin’ that hunk a’ junk? We’ll call up the competition and show ‘em this! (roots around the Phonebook) Do you know the number for Dreamworks Studios offhand?
<o> </o>
MC: No, and it doesn’t matter because that isn’t that One-Eighteen-Oh-eight movie. So calm down.
<o> </o>
SB: But KENNETH BRANAGH is in it.
<o> </o>
MC: He’s not even in that movie, and I really don’t think that a distinguished actor with a fondess of Shakespeare is in an EPW wrestler’s promotional video.
<o> </o>
SB: So then, what is it?
<o> </o>
MC: Some guy’s attempt at humor.
<o> </o>
SB: What, like saying he’s real big and could level an entire city?
<o> </o>
MC: Yes, that’s the general idea.
<o> </o>
SB: But that wouldn’t be funny at all! Now, if he was really tiny after all this monster-movie mumbo jumbo, that’d be hilarious. Because, ya know, he’d be standin’ there and all tiny. It’s funny, laugh ya asshole.
<o> </o>
MC: (stone-faced) No, that’d make him look stupid.
<o> </o>
SB: No, it’d be funny. Because that’s irony.
<o> </o>
MC: That isn’t irony, that’s a swerve.
<o> </o>
SB: Same difference – so, it’s some really short guy that likes to spend a lot of money hiring actors and setting up stages for his promos.
<o> </o>
MC: Maybe it was Cameron Cruise PRETENDING to be the mystery guy!
<o> </o>
SB: What sense would that make?
<o> </o>
MC: Well, it is Cameron Cruise.
<o> </o>
SB: That point aside, I really don’t think he’d shell out the kind of dough necessary to get Kenneth Branagh.
<o> </o>
MC: Last time I’m gonna tell you this – Kenneth Branagh is not in this video.
<o> </o>
SB: So then what are we talking about?
<o> </o>
MC: Trying to figure out who this mystery guy is!
<o> </o>
SB: Who the **** cares!?! All I’m gonna do is the same thing I do everytime – kick ass and make a name for myself. Dan Ryan could send Ernie Ladd’s freakin’ ghost after me and I’d make that son of a ***** tapout.
<o> </o>
MC: So you’re not worried about who this guy is? This promo doesn’t give us any indication, and we’re not going to be able to game plan.
<o> </o>
SB: I already have a game plan; use <st1lace w:st="on">Cam</st1lace> as a human shield for as long as possible and then make said mystery opponent tap out.
<o> </o>
MC: Alright, if you’re confident than I’m confident. I’m going to sleep, but my alarm is set for 9 am. We need to get up early, get to your press conference at 10, and get to the promo stage for 11. If we’re late, you get fined.
<o> </o>
SB: Bastards.
<o> </o>
MC: You all set for tomorrow?
<o> </o>
SB: Peachy. Goodnight.
<o> </o>
MC: Goodnight. (walks into the adjoining room)
<o> </o>
SB: (to himself) I’m sooo callin’ JJ Abrams.
<o> </o>
Fade out.
<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
fficeffice" /><o> </o>Fade in. Mike Castagnoli, friend and trainer of brand new EPW superstar Simply Beautiful, is running down a hotel hallway clutching a videotape.
<o
> </o>MC: Oh man, oh man, I gotta tell him! SB! SB!
<o
> </o>He keeps running, sweat dripping down his brow as he burns it all the way down the long hall in near-record time. He gets to SB’s room – Room One-Twelve, of course – and knocks three times as per SB’s rules. Hey, he could be in there nailin’ Miss Universe, and if those pictures get on some asshole’s MySpace it could ruin her career.
<o
> </o>SB: Who is it?
<o
> </o>MC: Mike. Open up, I gotta show you something.
<o
> </o>SB: It’s two in the morning. Can’t this wait? And where the hell is your key?
<o
> </o>MC: I’m telling you, that girl with the nipple tassels took it from our room last night!
<o
> </o>SB: Darla? She wouldn’t do that man. No way.
<o
> </o>MC: Look, whatever! Just open the door.
<o
> </o>SB opens the door, and his bandanna-ed head pops out.
<o
> </o>SB: (nodding up) What’s the tape? You bought porn dude? I’m not comfortable watching porn at the same time as you.
<o
> </o>MC: It’s not porn. (pushes the door in as SB backs up) It’s a promo from Empire Pro Wrestling.
<o
> </o>SB: You just woke me up at two AM so I could watch Cameron Cruise verbally masturbate?
<o
> </o>MC: No, because first of all it’s not Cruises. It’s the “mystery guy.”
<o
> </o>SB: Oh boy, here we go. What is it, one of those videos where the guy has a shadow on his face and a voice changer?
<o
> </o>MC: No, not quite. In fact I don’t think he even appeared in the entire video.
<o
> </o>SB: So how do you know it’s him? It could have been anybody. It could have been that Sean Stevens guy, he cuts promos on everyone.
<o
> </o>MC: No, it’s not Sean Stevens either. Unless he’s in the CIA.
<o
> </o>SB: What’s the CIA got to do with professional wrestling?
<o
> </o>MC: Absolutely nothing.
<o
> </o>SB: So why even bring that up?
<o
> </o>MC: Because the video has CIA agents in it.
<o
> </o>SB: Um…this may end up being on VH1’s Dumbest Celebrity Quotes list, but…am I wrestling General Michael V. Hayden at Russian Roulette 2007?
<o
> </o>MC: No. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t double as a professional wrestler.
<o
> </o>SB: Thank God. My taxes aren’t in order.
<o
> </o>MC: The CIA could give a **** about your taxes, you’re thinking of the FBI.
<o
> </o>SB: Wait, I’m wrestling Robert Mueller?
<o
> </o>MC: No, but since when do you know so much about the government?
<o
> </o>SB: The TV’s broken and I’ve been watching C-Span all night trying to fall asleep.
<o
> </o>MC: Of course. Well, anyway, back to the tape. Ready to watch it?
<o
> </o>SB: No, I don’t really want to.
<o
> </o>MC: Come on, you have to! EPW wants you to turn some stuff in for this week, too.
<o
> </o>SB: I’m getting airtime already? I told you they’d love me here, and you were all like “let’s go to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com
ffice:smarttags" /><st1:City w:st="on"><st1lace w:st="on">Stamford</st1lace></st1:City>”. Jackass.<o
> </o>MC: Would you just shut up and watch the video?
<o
> </o>SB: Alright, but we gotta go to A&W later. You ever just crave a chili dog real bad out of the blue? I mean, I’m sittin’ down and listening to Senator from <st1:State w:st="on"><st1
lace w:st="on">Hawaii</st1lace></st1:State> talk about that really bad drought they’ve been havin’, and BAM! It was like a punch in the face tellin’ me to go buy a chili dog!<o
> </o>MC: I’ll just put the tape in.
<o
></o> <o
>========================================================= </o><o
></o> Cut to a close-up on SB’s face.
<o
> </o>SB: What the **** was that?
<o
> </o>Back to normal view.
<o
> </o>SB: Was that Kenneth Branagh playin’ the fake CIA guy?
<o
> </o>MC: It looked like him, didn’t it?
<o
> </o>SB: Yeah...
<o
> </o>SB starts to think…and suddenly, a light bulb goes off!
<o
> </o>SB: HOLY ****! Do you know what we have here Mikey? This is a scene from that Cloverfield movie! Put that **** on YouTube, we’re gonna be rich!
<o
> </o>SB runs over to the kitchen to turn his laptop on.
<o
> </o>MC: Come on, I really don’t think that EPW would have that kind of-
<o
> </o>SB: What company is makin’ that hunk a’ junk? We’ll call up the competition and show ‘em this! (roots around the Phonebook) Do you know the number for Dreamworks Studios offhand?
<o
> </o>MC: No, and it doesn’t matter because that isn’t that One-Eighteen-Oh-eight movie. So calm down.
<o
> </o>SB: But KENNETH BRANAGH is in it.
<o
> </o>MC: He’s not even in that movie, and I really don’t think that a distinguished actor with a fondess of Shakespeare is in an EPW wrestler’s promotional video.
<o
> </o>SB: So then, what is it?
<o
> </o>MC: Some guy’s attempt at humor.
<o
> </o>SB: What, like saying he’s real big and could level an entire city?
<o
> </o>MC: Yes, that’s the general idea.
<o
> </o>SB: But that wouldn’t be funny at all! Now, if he was really tiny after all this monster-movie mumbo jumbo, that’d be hilarious. Because, ya know, he’d be standin’ there and all tiny. It’s funny, laugh ya asshole.
<o
> </o>MC: (stone-faced) No, that’d make him look stupid.
<o
> </o>SB: No, it’d be funny. Because that’s irony.
<o
> </o>MC: That isn’t irony, that’s a swerve.
<o
> </o>SB: Same difference – so, it’s some really short guy that likes to spend a lot of money hiring actors and setting up stages for his promos.
<o
> </o>MC: Maybe it was Cameron Cruise PRETENDING to be the mystery guy!
<o
> </o>SB: What sense would that make?
<o
> </o>MC: Well, it is Cameron Cruise.
<o
> </o>SB: That point aside, I really don’t think he’d shell out the kind of dough necessary to get Kenneth Branagh.
<o
> </o>MC: Last time I’m gonna tell you this – Kenneth Branagh is not in this video.
<o
> </o>SB: So then what are we talking about?
<o
> </o>MC: Trying to figure out who this mystery guy is!
<o
> </o>SB: Who the **** cares!?! All I’m gonna do is the same thing I do everytime – kick ass and make a name for myself. Dan Ryan could send Ernie Ladd’s freakin’ ghost after me and I’d make that son of a ***** tapout.
<o
> </o>MC: So you’re not worried about who this guy is? This promo doesn’t give us any indication, and we’re not going to be able to game plan.
<o
> </o>SB: I already have a game plan; use <st1
lace w:st="on">Cam</st1lace> as a human shield for as long as possible and then make said mystery opponent tap out.<o
> </o>MC: Alright, if you’re confident than I’m confident. I’m going to sleep, but my alarm is set for 9 am. We need to get up early, get to your press conference at 10, and get to the promo stage for 11. If we’re late, you get fined.
<o
> </o>SB: Bastards.
<o
> </o>MC: You all set for tomorrow?
<o
> </o>SB: Peachy. Goodnight.
<o
> </o>MC: Goodnight. (walks into the adjoining room)
<o
> </o>SB: (to himself) I’m sooo callin’ JJ Abrams.
<o
> </o>Fade out.
Bruno N' Beauty
League Member
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2006
- Messages
- 161
- Points
- 0
Fade in. It’s Simply Beautiful, the Sexiest Man in Wrestling! He stands in front of an EPW banner, looking absolutely magnificent. The hot new SB shades (available now at EPW’s website!); the Italian Flag Bandanna; and of course, one of SB’s famous T-shirts. This one’s an American Flag with SB’s face in place of the stars.
SB: At long last, I’ve made arrived in Empire Pro Wrestling. After nearly a year of showing crowds the world over that I’m every bit the superstar I claim to be, Dan Ryan finally took notice and hired a man that could take the national exposure this place offers and turn himself into a mega-star. I can see it now – trading cards! Action figures! FatHead posters in every little boy’s and girl’s bedroom! It’s not some far-fetched dream. It’s a reality!
I’m not gonna be like a lot of newbies are and in come in demanding title shots and main event status. That’s not how I operate. All I ask for is the opportunity to put on a show that everyone in the audience will remember till the day they die was the best match they ever saw in their lives. EVERY show. Every match. That’s my commitment to excellence. I do that, and I know the titles will come. After all – how do you deny a man with an undefeated streak like the one I’ll have? (smiles)
But enough about that. I’ve got a match at the Pay Per View – some of you may have heard about it, Russian Roulette. That’s right ladies and gents, SB will be there live and in color. Remember not to adjust your TV sets – I actually am that brilliant. I’ll be in the ring with two men. One, I know very well. The other, well, he’s a mystery. That’s cool with me, I’ve never really HAD to know who’s ass I was set to kick.
You hear that, mystery man? I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re big, small, fat, skinny, strong, weak – it doesn’t matter. The end result will be your shoulders pinned and my arms raised. You think you’re impressin’ anybody with your silence? It makes you look like a coward, brotha. I been thinkin’ of all the ways to kick your ass for my debut, but there’s somebody else who I think deserves it even more.
Cameron Cruise. Our path’s have met before. Twice, to be exact. You still haven’t won. And you still never will. Any match with me and you in it is a win for my side and a loss for yours. Hey, don’t take it too hard chief – maybe next time somebody’ll team us up and I can show you what it’s like to win an SB match. But I don’t want to mislead you. I’d probably kick you right in the teeth the second the match was over. It’s not even that I don’t like you. It’s just fun beatin’ down on ya.
It also doesn’t hurt that Triple Threat matches are my semi-speciality. Fact is, I’ve never lost one. Anywhere. Ever.
Of course, I haven’t been involved in one in about 5 years, but that’s not really the point. It’s like riding a bicycle I suppose, except not feminine. If ridin’ a bicycle were anything like fighting almost to death, than it would be exactly the same. So I should be fine.
There’s a lot big names and big matches on this show. Personally, I can’t wait for the World Championship main event.
But if you want to see a great wrestler do what he does best with no strings attached.
SB spreads his arms and points to himself.
SB: Look no further – I am the elite, and it’s only a matter of time until the whole world recognizes it.
Fade out.
SB: At long last, I’ve made arrived in Empire Pro Wrestling. After nearly a year of showing crowds the world over that I’m every bit the superstar I claim to be, Dan Ryan finally took notice and hired a man that could take the national exposure this place offers and turn himself into a mega-star. I can see it now – trading cards! Action figures! FatHead posters in every little boy’s and girl’s bedroom! It’s not some far-fetched dream. It’s a reality!
I’m not gonna be like a lot of newbies are and in come in demanding title shots and main event status. That’s not how I operate. All I ask for is the opportunity to put on a show that everyone in the audience will remember till the day they die was the best match they ever saw in their lives. EVERY show. Every match. That’s my commitment to excellence. I do that, and I know the titles will come. After all – how do you deny a man with an undefeated streak like the one I’ll have? (smiles)
But enough about that. I’ve got a match at the Pay Per View – some of you may have heard about it, Russian Roulette. That’s right ladies and gents, SB will be there live and in color. Remember not to adjust your TV sets – I actually am that brilliant. I’ll be in the ring with two men. One, I know very well. The other, well, he’s a mystery. That’s cool with me, I’ve never really HAD to know who’s ass I was set to kick.
You hear that, mystery man? I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re big, small, fat, skinny, strong, weak – it doesn’t matter. The end result will be your shoulders pinned and my arms raised. You think you’re impressin’ anybody with your silence? It makes you look like a coward, brotha. I been thinkin’ of all the ways to kick your ass for my debut, but there’s somebody else who I think deserves it even more.
Cameron Cruise. Our path’s have met before. Twice, to be exact. You still haven’t won. And you still never will. Any match with me and you in it is a win for my side and a loss for yours. Hey, don’t take it too hard chief – maybe next time somebody’ll team us up and I can show you what it’s like to win an SB match. But I don’t want to mislead you. I’d probably kick you right in the teeth the second the match was over. It’s not even that I don’t like you. It’s just fun beatin’ down on ya.
It also doesn’t hurt that Triple Threat matches are my semi-speciality. Fact is, I’ve never lost one. Anywhere. Ever.
Of course, I haven’t been involved in one in about 5 years, but that’s not really the point. It’s like riding a bicycle I suppose, except not feminine. If ridin’ a bicycle were anything like fighting almost to death, than it would be exactly the same. So I should be fine.
There’s a lot big names and big matches on this show. Personally, I can’t wait for the World Championship main event.
But if you want to see a great wrestler do what he does best with no strings attached.
SB spreads his arms and points to himself.
SB: Look no further – I am the elite, and it’s only a matter of time until the whole world recognizes it.
Fade out.