[ToC '08] Round 1 RP thread

CraigM · Oct 16, 2008

The Last Stand

"There are things that we never want to let go of..."

Black turns to light as a white backdrop fills the entire screen with one man sitting on a stool in the middle of it. His head is bowed, eyes burning a hole through the ground, and his posture one not common with this man. Battles had left him cold and in immense pain. His right hand grips his knee painfully before he slowly lifts his head and reveals his true nature.

Dusk

There are people we never want to leave behind. But keep in mind that letting go isn’t the end of the world, it’s the beginning of a new life. As the day turns into night and the nights reveal themselves to be hell in disguise, the thought of leaving has filled my head much more than it usually does. After a gruesome match that leaves my body wrecked for days I think about exiting the ring for good, but as it heals and the pain subsides that drive to compete returns anew. This sport has taken so much from me. The live I've lead has caused me so much grief that I no longer know how much further I can go to compete. Is there a line drawn in my head that I can't mentally or physically cross? What if there's not? Will my body know when to stop?

It's sad when I'm only thirty-one years old and contemplating retirement. Unfortunately, I've been in this ring for far longer than most people in this tournament have been. Half of my life has been spent inside of a ring with no end in sight. The bruises stay longer than they used to. My neck and back scream at me constantly like I'm insane for thinking about getting back inside of there for another match. Each week, I step into a ring and know that a Tyler Rayne or Devin Shakur awaits me. I walk to the backstage area not knowing if Cozen or Desade is going to make my life a living hell. Frankly, it's not the life that one should envy. It's a reason why I laugh when I see a child look up at me and tell me they want to be a wrestler one day.

Pause.

What else do I have to prove? I've stepped inside of that ring and won Tag Team Championships. The first year I competed, I got an award for being the Rookie of the Year. My fame was sky high and I kept on churning with victory after victory, and it didn't matter who I stepped into the ring with; rookie or legend, I brought my game. Soon, it no longer became a matter of I was winning or losing. People stopped looking at the basic stats and started to look at my work. It's what I began to pride myself on. As I stepped from one federation to another, I would get a phone call asking for my services. Four weeks later, more phone calls would start pouring in. They didn't know if it was possible for me to adapt my style and skills to a new country or new talent. Of course I could. Soon, they just knew that I would step inside of that ring and produce unlike any other. I stopped caring about winning and capturing championships and awards. Instead, I cared about being the absolute best inside that ring.

It's funny when you look at people and they tell you that the true measure of a man is the hardware that he wins. So many athletes step into that ring and think that if they've won a championship belt that it makes them legendary. Then, they find out how difficult it is to go from a champion to one of the greats. Two very different plateaus. Many will achieve that first level. It's the nature of working in this business; you will win a championship and then be branded by that giant bulls eye. Few will transcend to that second level. Many don't have what it takes to do so. Sadly, they think it's about your raw, physical talent. Instead, it's about what you have inside of your mind. The mind, you see, does funny things. Intriguing things. It's what separates people from becoming simply great and just good. I've never shied away from a battle and the reason for that was the fact that I knew I would bring my best to the ring. The sheer thrill of putting on a masterpiece would give you that extra little bit you would need to get that victory. Eventually though, it never mattered about those championships. They're just rewards given that are quickly forgotten about.

Pause.

How would my legacy be defined if I left the ring today? Three World Championships from UEF. Countless unforgettable matches. An International Title run in Global. Short time there, but five-star matches with Eryc Morgan. Two Intense Title Runs in PRIME. Jonathon Winters. Devin Shakur. Pierce Lavelle. Colossus IV. The Roulette. Brandon Youngblood. Sonny Silver. Chainz and Easton Hall. The Dual Halo. Tony Gamble. Wade Elliott. Tyler Rayne. Match after match that critics raved were the best of the evening, best of the year. Will I be remembered as a champion? A legend? Or will I just fade away in the night and once in a while be recalled as one hell of a performer?

I come here to TEAM and I haven't had that definable moment. Came second place in the Free For All match. I lead PRIME deep into the Dupree Cup before being eliminated by eventual winners, the A-Team. Finished in the top 16 in the Team Invitational Tournament, taken out my Mike Randalls. Then, in last year's Tournament of Champions, I was the last man eliminated before the last eight men. It seems like I'm always on that cusp to do something amazing in PRIME, and yet I just continue to come up short. I ask myself how many more times I can do that to myself. Put my body through the pain. Not only in PRIME, but wrestling in general. Sixteen years in that ring is nothing to be ashamed of. Knowing I had given it my all. With 2008 coming to an end, it feels like that time.

Pause.

One more time into that ring. One more time to hear that bell. I'll smell that air and feel the pain in my lungs as I'm slammed to the ground. Then, someone I will have to find a way to let it go.

Sixteen years will have passed.

One last time.

And then I'm gone.

Fade. To. Black.

kcloverleaf · Oct 16, 2008

Bringing home the TEAM title

Fade into a shot of Ken Cloverleaf standing in front of a TEAM Tournament of Champions banner. Ken methodically sways back and forth with an arrogant smirk upon his face. Our perfect, outstanding, superstar shakes his head, lets out a slight laugh, and begins to speak into the camera.

KC- Listen to you worthless imbeciles

So far I have wasted my time this week listening to an abundance of hollow speeches, promises and claims from plenty of pathetic dreamers, pretenders and fools.

The TEAM Tournament of Champions is supposed to bring the best and brightest together for a chance to shine in front of the professional wrestling universe.

But I haven’t seen it yet.

You insignificant wastes in this tournament might be recognized as fellow champions and so-called legends - but you’re not in the same stratosphere as Ken Cloverleaf.

You people can talk about how you’re the greatest or the meanest or the most passionate or even the fact that you want to win this tournament more than anybody else. I can’t TELL you how much I heard that LAST empty promise.

But I could care less what you idiots think.

Because you fools have the ability to talk an excellent game.

However, the greatest champions of the world are created under the lights.

True legends - like Ken Cloverleaf - are born inside the middle of the ring.

I’m not going to spout off my highly-acclaimed credentials and I don’t need to over-inflate my already-impeccable accomplishments that I’ve achieved throughout my legendary career.

I’m not going to sit here and tell you how I am greatest technical wrestler the world has ever witnessed.

Because I’m going to prove it to every single one of you wastes in the center of the ring.

*I* am the professional wrestling legend to beat in this pathetic tournament.

You second-rate imbeciles will find out soon enough.

And when all of the smoke clears and the dust settles, Ken Cloverleaf will be the ONLY professional wrestler left standing.

So keep believing your own hype

Keep telling yourself that you’re the greatest.

It won’t mean a damn thing when Ken Cloverleaf is declared the winner of the 2008 TEAM Tournament of Champions.

Fade to black

Fusenshoff · Oct 16, 2008

Fade in to Fusenshoff, sitting on a stool, in front of a TEAM backdrop. The camera pans in to see Fuse in his usual attire. He's wearing a black leather jacket over a wife beater, black jeans and black boots. His hair is matted and his goatee is trimmed closer than usual- the only sign of upkeep in the traditional sense. He's drenched in sweat and his eyes are bloodshot.

Fusenshoff: “Welcome gentlemen, to the 2008 TEAM Tournament of Champions.

“Most of you I know, but some of you I've had to do my homework. According to the promotional etiquette for the first round it's time for introductions to precede confrontation. I am Fusenshoff... and I've yet to find the necessity for a sobriquet. I'm one of thirty-one either current or former champions and one Viking porn star with a sexual superiority complex.

“The format of this first promotional segment requires more badinage than I generally prefer. I’ll leave the verbal fencing for when the time is appropriate.

Fusenshoff takes a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Combing the archives of professional wrestling’s greatest superstars led me to a particularly interesting quote. It’s from a man that’s familiar to TEAM, though we haven’t seen him here in over a year. Back in 2006, he won the TEAM Invitational Tournament. His name… Karl Brown. He had this to say:

“‘Whomever can force their body beyond its own perceived breaking point, convince their muscles to strain again and again and again until their opponents mind and body say enough… those are the ones to fear.’

“It was in a singles match against a former TEAM Championship of Champions title holder. It was just an ordinary match, with nothing but pride on the line. Amidst hours of viewing promo after promo- Ravager vs. Mike Randalls, Arsvinnar, Cruise, Tact and Fusenshoff; Chip Friendly vs. Randalls; Shawn Hart vs. Ulysis Solian; and my matches vs. Cruise, High Flyer, Ravager, and Douglas- finally I find this gem.

“It has enlightened my consciousness to my own personal manifesto.

“It strikes a chord in me so deep, so satiated in everything that means something to me in the ring, and so telling of my tale.

“As a man I’ve met a lot of hardship in life. I’ve spent years grieving over the loss of my sister. Forgiveness isn’t an option when the responsibility of a loved-ones’ life lost at your hands enters your paradigm. The years prior to finding some solace in the ring are a blurred vision of terror and torment.

“Purpose is the only true measurement of fulfillment.

“You see ambition in every wrestler. They’re here for a reason- putting themselves in harm’s way to accomplish the next accolade or bathe in glory as their achievements become legendary. It is motivation consumed by pride and ego. Self gratification the extent of which Ron Jeremy can only dream about. Since before Homer men have triumphed and collapsed to immortalize their name.

“To underestimate the power of ego or the desire of importance is a fool’s folly.

“I’ll reiterate Karl’s insight. It takes a man that’s willing to die in the ring to truly survive his greatest challenge. Preparation and will are the only bedfellows of talent- the three ingredients of accomplishment.

“My fate became intertwined with professional wrestling because I needed purpose. Unable to live and unwilling to die intentionally, I found wrestling in this abyss.

“It has become my purpose; become my reason; become my life.

“There is nothing else except my moments in the ring. The moments I’m given to exonerate my mistakes for the interim.

“I have nothing but this to release the tension of heartache, for as long as I can make it last, with the all-too-real hope that I may be relieved of the misery permanently.

“Until that day comes, I drown my sorrows with ethanol and Advil cocktails. Days of matches are met with sobriety and desire so fierce it’s palpable in my sweat.

“My purpose is to keep getting up until they bury me six feet underground. Let the champions fret about everything else.

Fade out as Fusenshoff stares chillingly into the camera. He drops his head and slumps his shoulders, his knuckles white as he clenches the front of the stool on which he’s perched.

QueenOfTheRing · Oct 16, 2008

(THE JAMES VARGA DISCLAIMER: I AM POSTING THIS FOR O'MAC. But I did give him permission to use LT in this one, since he asked and all.)

“You have got to be f*cking sh*tting me.”

The set-up is simple. A foul-mouthed and controversial man by the name of Tyler Rayne sits quite casually in a comfortable office chair. He plucks a cold glass of just mixed White Russian from a round wooden table and takes a sip. Behind him, mounted upon a plain white wall, is a flat screen TV very similar to the one so lavishly supplied by Holzerman in Rayne’s personal locker room. The whole scene is very reminiscent of Masterpiece Theatre, and if you caught that last promo, you can damn well bet this is bound to be yet another memorable and classic production.

“I was actually just going to leave this alone. Figured the first one would be enough, ya know? But… man. I just couldn’t help myself. Before we get to the real fun part, I pose a very simple question. Doug, what’s the date today?”

Yes, fans, that’s right. Doug the Cameraman is back for round two.

“Uh… the fifteenth? I think.”

“Of?”

“October.”

“So it’s not April?”

“No.”

“Then this tournament isn’t a joke?”

“No?”

“And these schmucks are actually serious with this bullsh*t?”

“Um… yes?”

“I’ll be damned. I would’ve sworn this had to have been some elaborate episode of Punk’d or somethin’. Maybe a Jerry Lewis telethon. Though, in fairness, even the f*cking Down’s kids are brighter than half these blithering ass hats. I just… I can’t even wrap my mind around the concept that these f*cks are legitimate contenders in actual real federations. Like people actually pay these guys to perform. With real money. I’ve… I… I don’t even have the proper words to describe the sort of mind f*ck that is. I can’t even bring myself down to a level of stupidity to understand a concept like that. These guys are supposed to be professionals. I mean… really? This guy? Somebody’s paying this guy to work for them?”

While speaking, Tyler’s free hand has snatched a remote control from the table. Trust us, he’s not letting go of that drink. Alcohol is about the only thing making this tournament tolerable at this point. The TV has flashed to life. There behind Tyler, in all his imbecilic glory, is the still image of one Myles Jake.

“This thing, kid… this is a f*cking gem right here.”

Tyler pushes play on the remote control. Obviously he’s working the DVR to his advantage. Let Myles Jake do the speaking for us.

“F*ck this. F*ck that. F*ck the business. F*ck Varga. F*ck tournaments. I'm the f*cking PRIME 5-Star Champion. Everybody in the f*cking primetime community pays the most f*cking attention to me, because I'm f*cking Tyler Rayne and you can't do any-f*cking-thing about it. There is nothing more annoying than hearing a 28-year old man using the same four-letter word every sentence to make himself look tough. If I were Tyler Rayne, I would try to intimidate with my accomplishments and the pure wrestling skill that obviously got me an invitation to this tournament and the accolades by all my peers."

“Um… that’s what I did, dumbass. Remember the part where I talked about the Dual Halo? Beat sixty dudes in one match? Nine months as 5-Star Champion? All the accomplishments I achieved through my pure wrestling skill. The very same accomplishments that got me invited to this tournament. Yeah. That part? Covered. The accolades, well… Troy Douglas and James Varga have covered that for me. Looks like Dusk might be throwing his hat into the kiss Tyler Rayne’s ass club, too. By the by, d*ck wad… I’m actually a year older than you. If you plan on talking some sh*t, at least bother to do the research. It’s, like… a mouse click away.”

Speaking of clicks, let’s click that remote control and move on to the next clip.

"But clearly I am not Tyler Rayne. No, I am a lot older and clearly a lot more mature. I am not a pimp, instead I am a husband in a struggling marriage and a father of a son that seems to rebel for the sake of frustrating me. For 16 years I thought I would make a better insurance salesman than wrestler and instead of being given titles and accomplishments because of my charisma, I have had to claw and scrap to getting any attention in this God-forsaken business."

“Clearly. So what you’re saying is… you suck at life? The Fates dealt you a bad hand and you don’t have the talent or wherewithal to turn it around? You’ve been struggling in this business for sixteen years and you think you’re going to walk in the ring and hang with me? That’s… that’s about two shades short of delusional. Now all you f*ckers are running about talking about how we’re all equals and all on even ground here. As champions and whatnot. Well… we’re not. Some of us better. And I, MJ, am simply better than you.”

Myles Jake? We’ve had enough. More than, actually. Let’s move on to something even more entertaining. Ladies and gentlemen… James Varga.

“First off let me address Lindsay Troy.”

Tyler Rayne raises a finger to respond… but his mouth drops shut. There just aren’t the right words to address this sort of fallacy. It’s… absolutely mind-boggling.

“I just gotta make sure I heard that correctly.”

“First off let me address Lindsay Troy.”

Yep. You heard. He heard. We all heard it. The Underground Pimp looks down at his flat (though rather muscular and manly) chest. No voluptuous breasts there, poking out of his “5-Star All-Comers” t-shirt. Nope. Nothin’. Let’s hear that again.

“First off let me address Lindsay Troy.”

Rayne hops from his seat. He grabs a small hand mirror from the table and positions it so he can examine his rather unimpressive ass. Kinda flat, really. He stares at his own ass for a long time. Then the mirror pulls away, and he stares at himself. Two things are immediately and terribly obvious.

A) He can still see. Thusly, his corneas have not been seared by the hotness of his own ass.
B) He is very obviously NOT Lindsay Troy

“First off let me address Lindsay Troy.”

“I… I simply do not have words to stress how f*cking retarded you are, Varga. Uh… Uni, would you mind stepping in her for just a second? I just… I need to make sure these f*cktards haven’t made me lose my goram mind.”

For those who are like to do so, please feel free to cheer for The Queen of the Ring, Lindsay Troy, as she hobbles onto the scene. Knee injury and all. The look on her face is slightly less than amused.

“What, Ty?”

“Am I, uh… am I you?”

Sigh.

“No.”

“Do we even look kinda maybe the same? Like… a little?”

Lindsay looks down her own body. Hot. Sexy. Steaming. Just enough curves in all the right places. She looks at his body. Hot. Sexy Steaming. Not really a whole lot of curvage in any places.

“No.”

“Um… have I ever been confused for-”

“No.”

The Queen of the Ring looks down at her watch impatiently.

“Can we hurry this up a bit? I’ve got physical therapy in an hour.”

“Yeah, babe. Just one last thing.”

“First off let me address Lindsay Troy.”

“Could you even begin to explain that?”

“Varga’s a dumbass. And don’t call me babe.”

Exit Lindsay Troy. Stage left. Tyler Rayne cranes his neck to get a better view of that sweet, sweet ass. His mouth hangs slightly agape. He stares.

…
…
…

And stares…

…
…
…

…and keeps staring…

…
…
…

…and-

“Rayne!”

Thanks, Doug. Tyler shakes himself free of the naughty, naughty thoughts undoubtedly running through his mind.

“That, kids… that was the most interesting thing I’ve seen in this tournament all week. That was more captivating than any gods damned thing I’ve heard from a single one of you twats. And hell… I’ve seen that before. Not to like, rub it in or anything. Dusk.”

The Golden Boy takes his seat once more. Back to the camera. Back to the tournament.

“Tyler Lame? Really? Do I even need to justify this with a response? Ravager, you roll out and say… exactly what you said the last time. Exactly what I expected you to say. Same sh*t. Different day. Phoenix, I’m not even actually sure if you’re paying attention to this tournament. Irish. Wow, man. Just… wow. Here I thought MJ and Varga were leading this race of mental ineptitude… and then you step in. Sunshine… do I even need to mention you? Are you even worth mentioning? You barely rate as a footnote in the current status of PRIME, let alone the overall encompassing world of professional wrestling. Holzy, bud… I think it’s cool you’re doing this whole charity event thing. You know, letting the slow bus kids play wrestler for a day. That’s… commendable. Just, uh, next time you decide to do it… let me in on the gag before I agree to participate. Not that I really have a problem with it… just no one bothered to mention I’d be wrestling the mentally handicapped.”

That’s about it, kids. What else is there really left to say? The participants have spoken. Most of them very poorly. But they’ve spoken. And Tyler Rayne has responded. In fashion. All he’s got left to do is drink. It’s all he can do to cope with the stupidity. The painful, agonizing idiocy.

“Jesus f*cking Christ these kids are dumb. I gotta get a new agent.”

And fin.

CuseTroy · Oct 16, 2008

FADE IN...

Second verse, pretty much the same as the first. Troy Douglas, wearing a vintage CSWA FISH FUND t-shirt underneath a black and blue Empire Pro Wrestling baseball jersey, stands in front of the same TEAM Tournament of Champions backdrop we saw him in front of just a couple of days ago. His demeanor is nearly identical, if it differentiates that much from Monday night's interview.

DOUGLAS: Hmm, guess I was wrong about that whole "nobody's going to underestimate me this time" theorem I tossed out there a couple nights ago.

Then again, I was addressing a couple dozen professional wrestlers, and from nine years experience I certainly know that some of us have a tendency to have an IQ smaller than our biceps, and that plenty a rational thought can go by the boards given the innumerable number of swear words surrounding them.

Yeah, that one's for you, Tyler. I know you had an insult or two in there, and you may even have tossed in a truly valid point, but by the time the boys in post-production were done with that one, there were so many bleeps that I thought you were trying to send a secret message in morse code.

Although, I didn't quite know why anyone would try to say that seven ostrich heads supplement good housekeeping, so after a little while it helped to get my hand on the extended director's cut of that one. By the way, Rayne, next time you release a special edition, add in some decent special features, will you?

A commentary track, "making of" photos, even an interview with the lobbyists now trying to get you banned from cable television for that and other rants of yours. I don't know what you needed, but it just lacked that certain ... zing ... don't you think?

You see, Ty, after filtering through all that verbal detritus you spewed out, I got to your point, and it's pretty much the same that everyone in this tournament made.

"I'm great, the rest of you blow, here's all the wonderful things I've done, please feel free to worship at the divine altar that is the Church of Me." Something along those lines, right?

And you know what, Rayne? Out of everyone in this tournament, you might be the one guy who can actually back that kind of crap up. I was in there until the final 10 when you won the Dual Halo, Tyler. I saw what you did, I saw where you were willing to go to get that Golden Ticket, and you did it.

And yeah, last week at PRIME's ReVolution, you tapped me out clean as a sheet in the center of the ring, and I won't make a damn excuse for that. You're one of the greatest wrestlers on the face of Planet Earth today, and there's no shame whatsoever in throwing everything I've got at you and coming up a little bit short.

But, that doesn't mean I have to like it, Tyler. And it doesn't mean I won't fight like hell to give you some payback if and when I get the chance during this tournament.

Which brings me to another guy 'round these parts that we all know and love.

Cameron Cruise, this one's coming across the airwaves directly at you, pal.

You said it straight up, and I'm not going to act like some petulant child by coming out here and denying it. In the past, you've had my number.

But, here's the wonderful thing about the past, Cameron. If you learn from it, if you adapt, if you make yourself better and teach yourself to avoid mistakes, you can overcome your wrongdoings. You're a damn fine wrestler, Cam, one of the best I've ever been inside the ring with, but if you're blind and stupid enough to keep on living in 2004 EPW, then I can rather easily arrange a trip to the end of the road for you.

Hopefully it'll be a little more Norman Rockwell this time around, because I sure as hell wouldn't want to leave you in Edvard Munch's "The Scream" for any length of time.

See, I can make fancy-ass high culture references that only six or seven people actually understand. For I am Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons ... or something like that.

Seriously, despite the fact that I got a pretty sweet tie-in deal with a major motion picture last summer, I'm NEVER going to live down an offhand comment from Mike Neely on what I believe was the third episode of EPW Aggression in recorded history. Almost five years, and half the world knows me as a transforming robot who can't beat Cameron Cruise.

Well, here's the thing, Cam. In the Tournament of Champions, I get the chance to change both of those perspectives. If I get the chance, I'm going to do what I've done to a hell of a lot of other people in my nine years; I'm going to drop you on your head and put you away.

And then, I'm going to make sure that I'm remembered for a hell of a lot more than the butt of Mike Neely's jokes. By the end of this night, win or lose, come hell or high water, I promise each and every one of you watching and each and every one of you that gets in the ring with me that you will NEVER, not for the rest of your life, forget the name Troy Douglas.

You will know my name, and you will know that for that night, and for the rest of time, I am one of the greatest wrestlers in the world.

So it's going to take a hell of a lot to stop me, folks.

It's going to take all of Fusenshoff's fortitude, all of Irishred's toughness, all of Jay Phoenix's skill, all of Dusk's intensity to keep me from realizing my dream. I've dreamed for two decades, I've bled, sweat and paid the price for nine arduous years, so kids, you're going to have to make sure they haul me out of that ring on a damn stretcher if you think I'm going to stop fighting.

Ken Cloverleaf, bring your technical perfection.

Ravager, try to break me in ways only the White Collar Assassin can.

Varga, you try and do ... well, whatever it is exactly that you DO.

At the end of the night, I will stand tall. That's not a bold prediction, that's not a Joe Namath guarantee...

That's a promise. To myself, to the 29 others stepping into that squared circle, and to the millions of TEAM fans around the world waiting in anticipation to find out who will hold that Harvard Avalon Trophy at the end of the night.

At the end of MY night.

Never forget, folks, I laid down the gauntlet at the Merritt Trophy Finals. Out of every single man who tossed their hat in the ring, I was the very first. And I don't make statements like that without reason. I wasn't just throwing crap at the wall to see if it sticks, I was making a statement.

That I will be the first man in, and the last man standing.

I'll see the rest of you at the end of the road.

...FADE OUT

theshow · Oct 16, 2008

'The Show' knows he has arrived at the right place when he sees a big banner hanging across the road saying, 'Welcome Team Tournament of Champion participates'. Chad just gives a knowing grin as parks his car and walks into the make shift welcome center with his Carolina title draped across his left shoulder.

TEAM employee: Are you an participant or do you need tickets to the event?

Chad: Let's see considering I just drove several hundred miles to be here and walked in with a championship belt draped across my shoulder I am going with a participant.

TEAM employee: That must mean you are a first timer. So, just give me your name and we will get you registered.

Chad: Didn't my manager handle all this before hand? Never mind let's just get this over with my name is Chad Kurtis and I am here represent Rebel-Pro.

TEAM employee: Okay, Mr. Kurtis, we have your paperwork right here. We just need your signature that waives us from all responsibilities.

Chad: Good enough. So, now that we all done with the paperwork can you show me to the promo room so I can get mine cut and get back to training.

TEAM: Certainly Mr. Kurtis we are using the meeting room #3 as the promo room and it seems to be free at the moment so I will have some of our A/V people meet you there.

Chad nods at the TEAM employee and begins to talk to himself as he heads to the promo room...

Chad: Welcome back to big time wrestling Mr.Kurtis. Home of the big budgets and pyrotechnics. This is what I thought I left behind when I went to the indies. I know Rebel is getting close to a television deal and NAPW is probably got several on the table, but they will never be like FCW. That right this little guy from a little fed has done the bright lights and big cities before. So, he ain't intimidated by them at all.

Chad pauses as he finds himself in front of the promo room he walks he and stands in front of the TEAM tournament of champions banner just like all the superstars before him and begins to cut his promo...

Chad: I ain't going to waste a lot of anyones time talking taste to my fellow champions. That wouldn't be fair to the fans or to my fellow champion and why not you maybe asking. 'Cause there is so many of you that I only know cause of fine print in PWI or on sites lie fwrestling. I never seen you wrestle, never been able to scout a match so what would give me the right to come out here and talk smack.

Chad glances over at his shoulder and pats his Carolina title...

What I am going to do is take this time to introduce myself to not only the fans of TEAM but to my fellow champions, too. You may wonder how I earned the right to be in the tournament to begins with I did the hard way by beating 2008 NAPW ring of prestige inductee Kyle Roberts for the Rebel world title twice and that's not all I am also the current and 3X Carolina champion last capturing by competing in two matches in one night. Not only that but I had a good year in NAPW with wins over the likes of Dan Ryan and D! just to name a few. I am sure we my fellow champions looked at the roster and came to my name they wonder who is 'The Show' Chad Kurtis and is he for real. Trust me my fellow champions I am for real. So, maybe you know me and you just don't know me by 'The Show' that's okay, 'cause I have lots of nicknames. Maybe you know me as 'The Innovator of Offense' because of my ability to adapt and overcome as well as pull off moves for seemly nowhere? Or maybe you know as 'The Last Action Hero' because I was the last television champion on NAPW, a title that was defended just on Action!? Or maybe you know me as 'The True PTPer' because the bigger the stage the more I like it? Or maybe you know me as 'The Giant Killer' because standing only 6'3 and weighing in at 230 I have victories over Dan Ryan, Krenshov, and Matthew Kurtis just to name a few? Or maybe you know me by my lastest and greatest nickname the 'THEN NOW NEXT', simply because I am the best there was, the best the is, and the best there ever will be! Truth is it doesn't really matter if you know me or not right now 'cause everyone will know the name, 'The Show' Chad Kurtis after the tournament of champions!

Scene fades out as 'The Show' walks away from the back drop and out of the promo room...

Jesse Jamester · Oct 16, 2008

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Interviewer: JES-SE! (Gasping for breath) Jesse, we have just heard an inside rumor that EPW, Evolution Pro Wrestling, is closing!? Do you wish to elaborate on this for us?<o

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Taking a long drag of his one-hundred length menthol cigarette, Jesse’s eyes dart to the interviewer with a sense of loathing to choke the very breath the interviewer gasps for.<o

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Jesse Jamester: Elaborate? Big word for a low-waged paid interviewer like yourself aint it. Fact is it’s a rumor, and just a rumor so far… If I knew anymore I’d say so, but I don’t. (Licks his bottom lip) If it ends up being true, then my participation in this tournament will be my ticket to a new ring I can call home. <o

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Interviewer: So you have no information other than it’s a rumor? (Showing frustration) Well do you have any comments regarding Chris Bag-<o

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Jesse Jamester: Chris Bagwell is an incompetent punk who bathes in the glory he receives from an unworthy company. A company that couldn’t sign me unless they pulled out a loan just for my debut match! I’m not going to waste my breathe on someone like him. He’ll just have to eat his words when I shove them back down his esophagus with this. (Raises his fist)<o

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Jesse Jamester: The words of many have fallen on deaf ears in the first round of this tournament. Round two ladies and gentlemen, will weed out the chumps who call themselves champions. So for all that survive to see me, I’ll be waiting for you in the next round.<o

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Walking through the interviewer and cameraman Jamester goes to leave the hallway, but stops and drops his cigarette butt and stomps the cheery out.<o

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Jesse Jamester: If you don’t see what I mean, then let me make it very clear… Expect the unexpected, cause hype means nothing to me, NOTHING at all. <o

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Interviewer: Short and sweet, the way we like it. Well folks Jesse Jamester is a man of few words, but his intent seems fairly clear thus far in the TEAM Tournament of Champions: to win. And to win is all he has on his mind…<o

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Fusenshoff · Oct 16, 2008

Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting on the same stool in front of a new TEAM banner. He’s wearing the same attire as before, with a black leather jacket, jeans and boots. His hair is hanging off his shoulders and the goatee looks the same too. This time Fuse’s fifth of Jack Daniels can be seen in his inner jacket pocket.

Fusenshoff: “There’s a lot of men here taking a crack at this tournament, and with that they’ve left a lot of room for ridicule and verbal swordplay. I think I’ll take it from the top.

“Myles Jake. I’ll start with you because you’re the brave man to show up first for this thing. I’ll also start with you because you made one of the biggest blunders in the whole first round. You said ‘I'm going to walk out of this tournament as your TEAM Champion of Champions.’ Nova might have something to say about that. How can we expect a man to come prepared for a match of this magnitude if he doesn’t even take the time to learn the match stipulations?

“You might be the oldest fogey in the tournament this side of Irish Red, but I’m pretty sure you have to be older than 47 to have chronic Alzheimer’s. Good luck winning the CoC before the end of this tournament. Tack that on as one of the dozens of proclamations in this tourney that have absolutely no merit.

“Then there’s my buddy Ravager, the chameleon. He learned a thing or two against me the last time we met and apparently it changed his whole life. You’re telling me that before we met a year and a half ago, you didn’t understand that matches should be taken seriously? I guess that wake-up call came just in time. You did okay for yourself in the Invitational. Way to jump right back in after the toughest loss of anyone in the tournament.

“Speaking of that, Randalls hurt your feelings so now you’re a different man. You’re choosing the Tournament of Champions to change up your game plan. After accomplishing more than 62 other men from every federation that’s heard of TEAM, you decide to switch gears.

“That’s like Brad Lidge blowing his first save of 2008 and deciding he’ll start throwing knuckleballs.

“Here’s another lesson Ravager- one that should have an impact so great you might even start saying my name right. Stick to what got you here. Try the new game plan in the gym before implementing it in the Super Bowl.

“There’s also the man that made a Massacre of his credibility in this match…

“YO, ROCKO DAYMON, MY MAN!!! Hey Rocko! What up, dawg?! You an Ent-A-Tain- Aahhh, man. I saw your Viking helmet and shizzz! You gon’ tear it up… if you weren’t sidelined with a shoulder injury. If Olvir wasn’t taking your place. Hey Mikey, pay attention to what’s happening HERE instead of beating up nobodies on the set of High School Musical 47 and you might make Rebel Pro proud for the first time ever.

“Meanwhile Douglas, after listing his credentials on his fingertips long enough to leave us all in a narcoleptic coma, argues that he’s the most knowledgeable man in the field. Never mind that all these champions also know him exceptionally well, and have a huge advantage in that respect. He neglected to mention that. Why let logic get in the way of a good argument?

“You almost had us there for a minute Troy. Sorry to blow up your case in your face. But hey, you finished up with how you’re going to take out everyone and can’t be beat. Nice! Creative, original, innovative... if only I’d come up with that.

“And yes, Troy, you signed up first. That really means a lot. It means you want it most. It means you’re the best. It means everyone else is doomed from the get go because you’re at the front of the line. Plus, Tyler Rayne and Cameron Cruise made you mad. Now we’re all in GRAVE DANGER!

“Varga… what can I say? We’ve never met in the ring. If you’d like to rise from your comfortable spot as professional wrestling’s running joke, stop making a fool of yourself. It’s a start anyway.

Fusenshoff shakes his head at the absurdity of claiming you fought someone when you’ve never even fought in the same stadium at the same time.

“I earned the title that got me a spot in this tournament by taking out Cameron Cruise and Shawn Hart in the same ring in a completely different federation. It’s poor form to mention matches from another fed, but leave it to Cameron Cruise to bring it up anyway.

“Cam, your Daddy reference was a little random. If you were trying to make a point with that remark, you failed miserably. Yes, I can hold my booze. I’ve had a lot of practice. Fascinating that your Dad drinks a lot too.

“Don’t compare me to your Pops just because we both beat the sh*t out of you.

“Tyler Rayne walks in here like a bull in a china shop cursing up a storm like he’s a character from Grand Theft Auto. Another guy new to TEAM looking to get attention by figuratively crushing toes with a sledge hammer. Newsflash Rayne, Tom Holzerman is a TEAM commentator. Jess Chapel is TEAMs owner. You might as well have shot your promo in a clown’s suit.

“Get serious about the tournament if you want to be taken seriously.

“I truly thought I’d heard everything in this tournament until Ken Cloverleaf decided to show up and contribute ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to the tournament’s promo period. Hey Ken, better luck next round. You strut in here and talk about how stupid everyone has been so far. Mention that you’re the greatest a couple times and spout off the most generic promotional segment we’ve seen yet. Don’t mention your experience. Don’t mention your technical prowess. Don’t mention your status as ‘legendary’. That way you can walk into this whole thing with it in the bag already. I’d just like to say congratulations to Ken Cloverleaf- 2008 TEAM Tournament of Champions winner!

“Overall I’m not as impressed as I should be in a match of this magnitude. Luckily, there’s still two more rounds for some of you to redeem yourselves. In the mean time, I recommend studying up. Learn who runs TEAM. Learn what’s on the line in this match. Learn about your opponents and try to remember which ones you’ve fought and which ones you haven’t. Stick to your strengths and don’t try to ‘recreate’ yourself now.

“Oh, and one more thing… remember that the point is to make your opponents looks stupid, not yourselves.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff gets a small grin on his face. He steps off the stool and walks away from the camera.

RStrawsma · Oct 16, 2008

Valhalla Productions 113 - The Tournament of Cha-Cha Champions

(We fade in upon a smoky gray landscape as a tattered battle standard waves without life in a dead wind…)

“Through the ages of humanity, there has always existed the desire for war…”

(In the blink of an eye, the flag is trampled beneath the feet of HUNDRES of howling legionnaires, releasing their battle cries as they stampede across the battlefield with swords drawn. The camera swivels to another view, and we get a more panoramic perspective of the battle between two heavily-armored armies that blindly charge into each other. The sound of steel against steel and swords being buried into flesh and dying screams fill the air, accompanied by your standard-fare epic orchestral music…)

“For whatever the cause or agenda, man has always been more than willing to bear arms against his own kind, to differentiate the weak from the strong.”

(Then, the entire fracas comes to a halt as the orange light of day falls upon the ceaseless melee. The warriors slowly turn their attention from each other to the hill overlooking the battle, where valiantly stands a silhouette…)

“It is through war that the greatest men to walk the planet are born… warriors, fighters, and champions…”

“And sometimes… something more than any of those.”

“Greater than any man… greater than any champion…”

“Even greater than any god…”

(Fade to a closer shot of the figure upon the mound… and there, before the rising red sun and seated upon an enormous mount, stands the armed Viking warlord only known as OLVIR ARSVINNAR, whose eyes seem to burn with glowing fire as he boldly looks down upon the ocean of challengers before him…)

“A being bred to engage in war, and conquest, and domination…”

VALHALLA PRODUCTION COMPANY

Presents

(The Great Olvir reaches his head back and BELLOWS a roaring challenge that rings loudly through the entire valley, and without hesitation, draws his mighty battle axe and begins CHARGING at full speed into battle! The orchestral music picks up in pace, mirroring this scene with an invigorating “riding” feel. Laughing maniacally, the Great Olvir storms down the hill, as the camera zooms in on his madly grinning face…)

“His battle cry will strike fear into the hearts of his rivals as he runs head-first into the battle with a glimmer of joy in his eyes…”

(A flutter of light passes over the camera, the orchestral music apparently switches over to a heavy metal rendition of the same tune, and we zoom out again… and suddenly, we’re not upon a battlefield, but within an arena packed with THOUSANDS of cheering fans! Olvir is not riding upon a mount, but now running full speed down the aisle to the ring! And there are no stunned soldiers standing there waiting on him, but instead a slew of generic-looking wrestlers who stand whimpering as their eyes fall upon the wildly charging man heading right for them…)

OLVIR ARSVINNAR

In

“He will be welcomed with elation from those adore him… and dread for those who stand in his path…”

(The Great Olvir DIVES into the ring as gracefully as a swan lands upon the surface of water, and is immediately assaulted by several brave and equally FOOLISH individuals who pounce upon him in attempt to quickly remove the sudden emergence of this threat. The Might Butt-Dominator, however, is much too STRONG against their efforts, and scatters them like bowling pins with a few swats from his massive arms!)

“He will stand against the trials and efforts of those wanting to bring him down, and prevail…”

(We get a quick montage of Olvir DOMINATING several poor souls left and right! One fool is military pressed with ease over the ropes and clear into the fourth row of ringside seats! Another has his screaming head quickly caught in Olvir’s vice-like grip before having his head DRIVEN with sickening force into the top turnbuckle! A third practically SWALLOWS the heel of the Viking’s large, fur-lined boot as he comes off the ropes and runs right into it! Two more are caught facing each other and butt heads as the Norseman hits them with a double-whammy and tosses them aside…)

“He will fight virtuously and without remorse, crushing his enemies before him and reveling in the sound of their demise…”

(Finally, only one man remains standing in the ring… and he is none other than OLVIR ARSVINNAR, the Butt-Dominator, in all of his glory! Triumphantly laughing, the Viking scales the near turnbuckle where the camera is positioned, and he POSES for the screaming crowd around him as he pumps both gargantuan arms into the air and exposes his nearly flawless body, now glittering in the light of a million flash bulbs going off from every direction! Victorious, only four words emerge from the Viking’s beard-lined maw…)

“And as he is left standing last upon the battlefield, he will throw his head back and roar in triumph!”

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!!!

"THE TOURNAMENT OF CHA-CHA CHAMPIONS"

(Fade out…)

(…and back in, within a darkened gallery lined with marble statues. Several portray many of the world’s legendary heroes over countless millennia… Hercules, Samson, Paul Bunyon, and even Chuck Norris…)

(…but featured most prominently in the back is a hulking statue of the Viking pornstar himself, OLVIR ARSVINNAR, in a most triumphant pose, one leg propped over a heap of beaten foes as he stands with his right arm hoisting a battle axe toward the heavens and the left arm holding the blushing virgin slung over his shoulder. On the face of his likeness is Olvir’s trademark toothy grin. The statue, made almost entirely of bronze, does well to capture the ferocious Norseman’s nearly perfect and god-like physique.)

(Then, appearing from behind the statue, our narrator appears in person… turning out to be none other than TEAM’s recently hired field reporter and 24/7 Olvir exclusivist, Terry Anderson.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Welcome yet again, wrestling fans, as the TEAM Tournament of Champions approaches, and all of us wait in anticipation for the event that we’re all waiting for! For those of you who have yet to know me… I am Terry “THE IDOL” Anderson, once a professional wrestling superstar of the late seventies and early eighties, now a full-time reporter of TEAM events, and now a bona fide Viking thanks to the tutelage of the man I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing over the course of the recent Invitational Tournament…

…the very man you see here… “THE BUTT-DOMINATOR” Olvir Arsvinnar!

(With a white-toothed smile, he gestures to the statue.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Of course, if you’re a regular follower of TEAM events, then you couldn’t possibly have forgotten the recent conquests of the Great Olvir. Take, for instance, his unexpected dominance of the TEAM Invitational Tournament, finishing as the victor of the Los Angeles bracket, or his memorable triumph in the Pornstar Battle Royale alongside the former Las Vegas Wrestling Champion, “The Cowboy” James Donovan. It seems that no matter what kind of fan you are, if you tune in to watch Epicenter, you won’t be surprised to hear about the exalted glories and notorious antics of the man who calls himself “The Father of a Thousand Bastards.”

Which is why it pleases me to announce to you, the loyal viewers of TEAM and Olvir worshippers tuning in across the globe, that the Great Olvir will appear in this year’s Tournament of Champions, pursuing the very goal sought after by so many other competitors…

A guaranteed shot at the Champion of Champions… and the glory of being the superior force of all great men and women out there who bear the title of “champion!”

Now… some of you more astute followers of the Great Olvir’s undeniably illustrious career would be quick to point out that our beloved Viking pornstar turned wrestler has never had the distinguished honor to carry the gold, thus would not normally qualify for this kind of contest. However, thanks to the legal demission of one qualifier for this tournament—the former EPW World Heavyweight Champion, Rocko Daymon—and the consent of the owner and general manager of TEAM events, Jess Chapel, Olvir Arsvinnar has been officially granted a place in this tournament, for which most of us may be thankful for!

After all, what’s a TEAM event without the zesty debauchery of OLVIR?!

(Again, his smile beams brighter than a thousand suns.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Olvir is currently at his mead hall in Las Vegas, diligently preparing himself for the trials and tribulations that await him in the Tournament of Champions through a strict regiment of daily midget-lifting calisthenics and frenzied defloration of a hundred virgin maidens, plucked from the various towns and villages the Viking berserker sacked over the week. When last I spoke to him, he was expectedly enthusiastic about this contest, promising great triumph, along with relentless destruction from his unfortunate opponents!

On any given day, the Great Olvir would grace us with his dominating presence… but tonight, on behalf of the Valhalla Production Company, we’d like to take a trip down memory lane and look back on the series of events that has delivered the Norse raider to his present conquest…

(Fade to black… and we get a series of stilled images floating by. Many are photographs of various pots and vases, presumably from the Viking age, bearing crude but intricate drawings that portray a lone Viking warrior engaged in several harrowing episodes. One piece of broken pottery shows him fighting off an entire army on his own… another, sailing off on his dragon ship out to sea, leaving behind him a destroyed coastal town… and another, carrying off at least a dozen maidens in both of his mighty arms. Anderson’s voice continues the voice-over.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
The legend of Olvir dates back some thousand years ago, in the Viking Age of Scandinavia. The Vikings were a prominently feared group of marauders in ancient times, that eventually conquered much of Northern Europe. One such Norseman stood prominent among his own kind, as detailed here through various ancient vessels that archeologists have dated from the Viking Age.

These otherwise old looking pieces of pottery tell various tales of a single Viking warrior and his many adventures. By these accounts, he was prolific in combat, fighting off several men on his own, and equally prolific in the fornication of maidens he carried off as spoils of war! However, at some point in the very late tenth century, this single warrior sailed off on an expedition for “Vinland,” now known as North America. He went on this journey alone, and was never heard from again…

(We get a photograph of a gray-haired, bespectacled man standing alongside a younger, attractive woman. Their faces bear a hint of blood relation. Both wear heavy parkas as they stand for the photograph near a digsite in the middle of a barren, snow-covered plain.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
We flash forward to the year 2002, when Doctor Chuck Gundersen, professor of ancient Norse studies at the University of Newfoundland, was contacted by a group of oil diggers who came across something unusual while excavating the barren Canadian tundra for crude…

(We cut to a simple off-angle shot of the man in the photo, now wearing a flannel shirt and a toque, set up in a standard interview arrangement.)

Dr. Chuck Gundersen
Okay, so it’s aboot da spring time of 2002, eh, and OH GEEZ, we had a doozy of snow back den, eh? And dese hosers workin’ for dis oil company ring me up while I’m sittin’ in my hoose in da middle of a Fog Devil’s game against da Canucks, eh, tellin’ me dey followed some seismic activity up under dis glacier and found some guy frozen in da ice, eh?

So me and my daughter, Maggie—she’s my assistant at da university, eh—we go up dere to see what all da hootin’s aboot, and son of a buck! Dere’s dis VIKING down dere in da ice, eh!!

(Cut to another photograph of Dr. Chuck, his daughter and assistant Maggie, and a team of excavators gathered around a hole burrowed into the ice. A mechanized pulley set up over the opening seems to be bringing something up.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
The Viking of subject turned out to be none other than Olvir Arsvinnar, carefully preserved after a thousand years of hibernation within the ice! How he ended up there, none may ever know… but by chance, Dr. Gundersen had come upon a gold mine.

(Cut to a photo of Dr. Chuck and Maggie smiling proudly before a large cube of ice carted into their laboratory back at the university. Within the frosty veil, we can see the hulking form of a man.)

Dr. Chuck Gundersen
Oh geez, I was excited as heck I tell ya, eh? I hadn’t been dat overjoyed since our high school curling team went to da Province Finals back in aboot ’63, eh? I spent my entire life studyin’ da Vikings and their settlin’ of da North American continent, and dis just blew my suspenders right of dere, eh? I mean, dis is da first time anybody found a whole Viking just completely preserved after a dousand years, yah?

(The next photo shows the same block of ice now surrounded by numerous space heaters, trying to thaw out the ice, which is accumulating into a pool at the base. Near the top, we can see a pair of horns beginning to emerge.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Gundersen and his crew immediately went to work trying to thaw the ice. Nobody really expected the lost Viking to within to still be alive after a thousand years; it was their intent to study his remains to learn what they could about his ancient culture. However, something unexpected happened…

(Cut to a shot of OLVIR, in all his glory, looking very healthy and completely untouched after a millennia of sleep, sitting at the end of an observation table while Gundersen prods his bulging muscles. Maggie looks on in fascinated interest.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
They were surprised to find that Olvir had survived his stasis in ice… and not only that…

(Cut to a shot two minutes later. The observation room is in complete disarray, with medical instruments strewn all over the place. Gundersen lies motionless on the floor with a massive, fist-sized welt in his forehead. Through the door that’s been kicked down, we can see Olvir fleeing the scene with Maggie strapped over his shoulder.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
…but he was also harboring a thousand-year-old hard-on, which he quickly deposited into Maggie’s supple rectum. Even after a thousand years, the Butt-Dominator had not forgotten his most notorious exploits!

(Cut to a series of photos showing Olvir living it up on campus, at one point adorned in hockey gear, another shot showing him among a throng of scantily clad college girls at a party, and another showing him running out of a lecture hall with a female instructor slung over his shoulder; the chalkboard reads “Women Studies.”)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Arsvinnar would go on to spend the next year at the university under the study of Gundersen and his associates, and at the same time was enrolled for courses. Though he failed in passing any of his classes—under the assumption that he already knew all that was worthy of being known—Olvir’s antics merited him much attention. He was the life of every party. As the goalie for the school’s hockey team, the Newfoundland Newfies went undefeated, as Olvir made sports history in being the only goalie to completely obliterate the other team before a goal could be scored.

Dr. Chuck Gundersen
Oh, he was a bona fide hellraiser, dere now, eh? It completely changed everything we’ve ever known about da Viking culture, eh? He was like a dog dat needed a neuterin’, ya know, but dat Olvir’d sooner pound yer head into da dirt like a hoser, eh? And I had ta do somethin’ aboot it, cause, I mean, eh, he already gave me fifteen damn bastard grandkids through Maggie, eh?

So I call up my dird cousin twice removed… Tommy Salami, eh!

(We get a photo of Gundersen standing before a greasy-looking, balding, and slightly-portly Italian man, imploring him for help. In the background, Olvir is yet again carrying off Maggie to his bedchamber.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Tommy “The Meat” Salami was at the time a struggling amateur pornography director who was looking for a sleeper hit to carry himself to the big time in the porn industry. After being introduced to Olvir by his cousin, things would soon change for both the aspiring auteur and the unstoppable Norseman…

(Cut to Tommy Salami in a similar interview set-up. He grins beneath a pair of orange-tinted sunglasses, hardly aware that his toupee is blatantly obvious.)

Tommy Salami
My cousin Chucky phones me while I’m visiting relatives in Buffalo, talkin’ about some Viking who’s completely on the loose and bonin’ anything he can get his hands on. At first, I’m thinkin’… why the hell is he askin’ me for help? That’s when I met Olvir for the first time, and believe me, I was impressed!

That kid could just keep goin’, and goin’, and goin’, and the girls couldn’t get ENOUGH of it! I never seen so many inches get put into so tight of places! It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, and believe you me, I’ve seen a LOT of porn in my time.

Then it dawned on me… this man was the next big thing in the porn industry! Olvir the Butt-Dominator, and his many conquests of women!

(We get more file photos, showing Tommy Salami conversing with Olvir on the set of his production at the time. A few scantily clad actresses wait in the background.)

Tommy Salami
Olvir was very open-minded back at that time, and had a lot of new, cutting edge ideas when it came to porn features! For example, he ALWAYS insisted on anal… even if the girls weren’t willing for it. He ALWAYS changed their mine after they had a ride and realized they liked it!

Of course, he was more than willing to do the one thing he loved the most and become an ICON in doing it! That summer, we must’ve done somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty feature films, all starring Olvir, and the sold like hot cakes!

(A montage of DVD box covers file past, revealing some of Olvir’s more notable features: “Olvir the Horny,” “Thor’s Throbbing Hammer,” “The One-Eyed Viking God”…)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
It was the birth of Olvir-Mania! Under the direction of Tommy Salami, Olvir’s work on film became an overnight mass marketing machine! The emergence of “Viking Porn” quickly took its seat of dominance in the industry! Nearly every household in North America at the time had one of Olvir’s notorious features! It was simply amazing to witness a single man dominate so many behinds; a feat once believed to be impossible, given many womens’ sentiments toward anal insertion…

So how does a furious sodomite like Olvir win their affection so easily? Let’s hear it from an expert… Dr. Lara MacVagistuff.

(Cut to the office of a fairly attractive looking doctor, holding up a large object that the censors have blurred out.)

Dr. Lara MacVagistuff
The secret behind Olvir’s success actually lies in his well-endowed phallus, a cast of which you can see here. You see, Olvir’s extra length gives him the ability to reach a center of nerves located deep within the female rectum. When stimulated at a fast and repeated rate—as Mr. Arsvinnar is known to do in his well-reputed thrust—the subject is overcome with a feeling of orgasmic euphoria that simply cannot be equated any other way.

(She smiles.)

Dr. Lara MacVagistuff
I was at first skeptical of this theory until Olvir himself put me to the test… several times.

(Cut to a series of several adult magazine covers, all bearing Olvir in his most triumphant and erotic poses.)

Terry “The Idol” Anderson
Olvir was very much riding the wave of success at the time… but even so, felt very unfulfilled. Even though he was more than satisfied with his endless lustful appetites, there was another pastime that he had been without since his emergence into the modern world…

The act of inane and relentless assault and violence upon those weaker than him!

OORP: The RP is unfinished at this point. It's being posted to show that I had something written ahead of the deadline. If an extension is announced, I will post the remainder of this promo as a second RP. If not, rate as is.

TH · Oct 16, 2008

Re: Valhalla Productions 113 - The Tournament of Cha-Cha Champions

Pencils down. Good round everyone who showed. All RPs posted after this note are disallowed.

Round 2 RP thread tomorrow morning. Relax for 8 hours or so, and bask in the glow of your interfedhead as his baseball team is GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!

TSiegel · Oct 16, 2008

"In the name of all that's holy as Cheryl Burke...Where do I start?"

(Fadein, Cameron Cruise in front of another TEAM backdrop, dressed in blue jeans and a matching T-shirt.)

CRUISE: It's either people decide they have a demented agenda and just randomly call out people that aren't even scheduled to appear as if it's their personal and allocated slot to vent.

(Temporary close up of Cruise)

For those of you who misunderstood what I just said, piss off.

'Red, it's not that people didn't think that you could get outta the first round of the A1E tournament afew weeks ago, not at all.

Matter of fact that I can assure you with no doubt in my mind.

They EXPECTED it, otherwise I'd agree with you. Maybe Troy wanted to face someone with some actual WRESTLING SKILL.

Speaking of Mega Man, perhaps I wasn't clear on things.

A) "Transformers: The Movie" sucked ASS. In fact, the only thing that kept me from COMPLETELY SLEEPING THROUGH IT (much like when Phoenix Promos), was the Cutie-Patootie that starred opposite that kid from Nick-a-lodeon.

How do I know he was originally from that kids network??

Hell, what else do you expect Varga does in his offtime when he's not over at the Blue Oyster getting Glory-Holed by a man in a Spongebob costume???

But you know Troy...the thing is about the past is that you've had what....six or seven chances to "Adapt"?

It's time for someone else to have a turn at the wheel, kid.

Phoenix.

Ya know....the only thing I understood from your promos was that you had a slim amount of time as the CSWA Presidential Champion.

Guess who it is NOW, and guess who it should've never been screwed out of??

I really hope you don't need two guesses.

Chris Bagwell.

Didn't you just retire from the Major Leagues??

I mean really folks, I'd thought I'd have more to work witht than this.

Myles Jake hasn't heard of me but it wouldn't surprise me in the least because I've never had to tell people my name just so they could take my bags before the plane takes off.

I've been around the world MULTIPLE TIMES PEOPLE.

I've performed for Hugh Hefner and the Bunnies one night and the next helped out with Puppet shows at Birthday parties on the way back from entertaining Kings and Queens.

It's not the intellectual amusement that I seek in the ring, everyone knows that it's more than that.

But since my last appearance for the Tournament of Champions, it REALLY has left something to be desired.

I'm showing up ready to inpress and underestimate everyone that's got a ticket to this shindig.

It's what come out intending to do and it doesn't stop here on account of the fact that I'm not Top Notch material for the discussion at hand. I'm coming to win this tournament, not just out of the sheer factor of pissing people off and surprising others; that's just a bonus.

It's what I LIVE FOR.

It's because those that don't or WON'T believe it get a REALITY CHECK that they just...won't like.

(Fadeout.)

Ford · Oct 16, 2008

(And so, we fade in to Dodger Stadium, where High Flyer and Tony Davis are dressed to the t in bright red Phillies paraphenelia. They toss up their arms in joyous victory as the final pitch is thrown.)

High Flyer: Holy Crap! I'm so glad I missed round one of our trash talk sessions to see this! Phillie HISTORY Boy!

(They hug, and begin to jump up and down. As the stadium slowly files out, a group of Dodger fans begin to encircle our dear Team VIAGRA.)

High Flyer: Hmmm... looks like we're either going to be killed or arrested.

Tony Davis: Well, I'd say it's worth it.

High Flyer: Okay. You take the forty on the left. I'll take that really scrawny guy over there.

Tony Davis: That hardly seems fair.

High Flyer: You're one hell of a complainer, you hear that?

(And with that, blows come to terms, and Viagra and various stadium participants begin to brawl.)

High Flyer: I'm supposed to be giving an interview here people! Stop striking me in my face!

(Fade out.)

[Sorry, it's late, as it is, probably doesn't count, but I've been busy. Friend was visiting during this rp period, and I went to NLCS games 3/4, so.... whoops?]

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[ToC '08] Round 1 RP thread

CraigM

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QueenOfTheRing

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TH

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TSiegel

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Ford

UTA Hall of Famer and All-Around Nice Guy

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