Fannie Package
Local Talent
W*I*G* Women's Champion
Bigger is Better!
Posts: 21
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Post by Fannie Package on Jan 20, 2010 18:03:51 GMT -5
*Back from commercial & the by now familiar remix of Nelly Furtado's "Maneater" blasts into the W*I*G-Sphere with accompanying strobe lighting. After about 20 seconds. Fannie Package strides out onto the stage, carrying with her the two title belts that comprise the Undisputed W*I*G Women's Championship. She stands with her back to the audience for a moment before spinning around to face them. She holds her arms out letting the two belts slide down to her shoulders. She pauses again before striking a double biceps pose while a flash of pyro explodes behind her, silhouetting her enormous physique.* Finkel: The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall. Making her way to the ring, from San Francisco, California, standing six feet, three & a half inches tall; she weighs in at 299 & 1/ 4lbs. She is the current reigning Undisputed Wrestling's Innovative Genesis Women's Champion... FAN~NIE... PACK~AGE! Tom: Tom Bailey & Jeannie Lawless back here at ringside with another dose of W*I*G action. Jeannie: And it's about damn time, feels like we haven's seen some of these wrestlers in about three months! *Fannie carries on making her way down to the ring, slapping hands with a few fans as she goes.* Finkel: And, in the ring, her opponent, from Nova Scotia, Canada, standing five feet, five inches tall; she weighs in 115lbs... LINDA... MAR~VEL! Jeannie: Tom, you know anything about this broad? Tom: I know that she's an outstanding amateur, but that's about the height of it. She'll need to call on all thos skills tonight if she hopes to hang with the Undisputed Women's Champion. *A very sleight looking young caucasian lady stands in the ring. She's sporting a sparkly singlet & black kneepads & wrist tape. Her hair is short & black. Fannie enters the ring & shakes Linda's hand. Fannie's massive mitt seems to totally envelop Linda's own. While Fannie hands her belts off to the official this musicstarts playing & everyone's attention is diverted to the entrance way as Danny Taylor, clutching her title shot brief-case returned to her after Lexi was suspended, makes her way out.* Jeannie: UGH! Looks like we have some unexpected company. You think she's going to watch from the ramp? Please let that be true! Tom: Doesn't look like it. Jeannie: Damn it! I hope this match is over soon so we don't have to endure her for too long. *Danny pauses at the middle of the ramp, looking into the ring with a seemingly coy grin. She then turns to face a booing child which immediately reduces her glee into a frown. With an obvious sigh, she walks the rest of the way around the ring and to the announcer's table. There she finds an oddly conveniently placed chair and spare set of headset just for her use. She places the briefcase upon the floor, takes off her hat to place on the table, and puts on the headset after brushing a few brown strands out of her face.* Danny: Salutations Miss Lawless & Mister Bailey. I see no offerings of handshakes directed at me, so I will assume you both foolishly fear the H1N1 virus and just as assume you did shake my hand. Jeannie: ...I'll shake something of yours alright... Tom: Yes well... Danny, what brings you out here to at ringside? Scouting the champion or perhaps waiting for the chance to attack her from behind and Edge your way into the Undisputed Women's Championship. Danny: My my. How clever of you. I assure you that I am far more original of tactics than that. And, in case you were not aware, I am one of the beacons of how the modern day woman should be. Jeannie: Yeah Tom, she's only been saying that ad nauseum since her sorry ass appeared on tv. Danny: Ignoring the comments of one former the Total Request Live visitor- Jeannie: HEY! Danny: I say one of the beacons, because the other is currently in the ring. Jeannie: ...Linda Marvel? Danny: I feel nothing but empathy and sorrow for you, Mister Bailey. The person I am speaking of is, plain as day, the champion: Miss Package. Jeannie: ... Say waaaaaaaaaaa? *Fannie casts a final quizzical glance over at Danny then returns her attention to the match at hand.* DING-DING! *Fannie turns back around only to be blindsided by Linda. Linda hurls herself right at Fannie, who easily stands her ground. Linda takes a step back to re-think her strategy as Fannie shows of her monstrous muscles to the cheers of the crowd.* Jeannie: Welcome to W*I*G, Linda. Lesson 1, you're gonna have to hit harder than that! Tom: Even with the surprise attack, Fannie has not faltered. Danny: Of course not, Tom. Miss Package has blossomed into a fine champion in the past few months. A fighting champion at that. She has not only taken on all challengers, she has also taken that degenerate Maeve O'Hare. And won. Tom: Wow. Pardon me for not being so easy to believe your compliments. Danny: What I said there was fact. Saying I respect her, which I do, would be a compliment. I would have expected you to know the difference. Jeannie: ...you have fat thighs. *Linda, instead, attempts a Collar & Elbow tie-up. Fannie easily overpowers her opponent. She traps Linda in a Side Headlock, crushing her with her enormous arms.* Tom: Fannie Package taking an unusually technical approach here. Jeannie: It probably won't last. Danny: It just shows the versatility of one Miss Package. *Linda manages to back up towards the ropes & Fannie is forced to break the hold. As Fannie backs off a little, Linda attempts a quick roll-up. However, Fannie is too big & too strong for Linda to pull the move off. Fannie grabs Linda's arm & raises her up. She elbows Linda on the back of the neck & hefts her up for a Suplex. Fannie holds Lisa in the air for what seems like an age.* Tom: It feels like minutes have gone by and the crowd is still applauding the impressive strength of our champion! Danny: Yes. And they know what I know. That Fannie Package is a champion that we can hang our hat on. I only wish that they would open their eyes to me as they have done her. Jeannie: The reason they hate you is the same reason I hate you! You just talk and talk and talk! Even after you get beat, you still talk! I wish someone would just send you packing forever! Danny: *A smirk you could hear through the mic.* I am not but five feet from you, Miss Lawless. Any time you wish to engage me, please do so. I look upon you as a bad example for the little girls that watch this show just like the rest of the women on this roster. Excluding, of course, the champion who is still impressively holding Miss Marvel in a perfect vertical position. *Fannie does a few deep-knee bends while keeping Linda up in the Suplex position, even taking a little time out to flex her right bicep for the fans. Fannie spins around & around before finally dropping Linda back-first onto the canvas.* Tom: Just listen to the applause. And just look at Linda's face, it's so flush from the blood flow that she may have been out before the impact! Jeannie: Geeze, the only time I've seen a face as red as that is when I “stumbled” into the Latin Lover's dressing room. Danny: You are a homosexual fraternity boy in a women's body, I hope you know. Jeannie: ...I hate you! Danny: Excuse me, I happen to be watching a match with Mister Bailey. For the record, the best champion on the roster is winning currently. Jeannie: ...grr. *Fannie picks Linda up again. She holds her under one arm & drops her down across her knee with a Backbreaker. Fannie drops Linda with a second & third one-armed Backbreaker before dropping her limply on the canvas.* Tom: God, with one shot right after another it's so wonder that Linda will be even able to breathe after that exchange! Danny: A lesser woman would have punctured both lungs, but she has to have broken ribs. But beyond all that, just look at the finesse and power. That is our champion, someone to be proud of. Jeannie: Why don't you marry her already?! Danny: I am not bound by journalistic integrity like the both of you. It is you that should be ashamed by yourself. Jeannie: … Tom: ...Jeannie, just let it go. *Fannie takes a moment to stretch her muscles a little & flicks her hair back. She stands right over Linda & grabs her by the neck with both hands. Fannie yanks Linda back up to a standing position, but Linda is wavering. Fannie lifts Linda up with a Gorilla Press. Fannie pumps Linda up & down several times without much difficulty before dumping her out over the top rope.* Tom: Did you hear that thud?! If Linda walks away from this, I'll be in shock! Danny: Again, look at the display, the art, the performance being presented to the masses. If wrestling were given an international museum, this would be the main exhibit. *Fannie flashes a smile to the crowd as the ref begins a 10 count on Linda. Fannie lies in wait as Linda struggles to get back to her feet. A weary & battered Linda is barely standing again, even then, only with the support of the ring apron. Fannie reaches through the ropes, her massive mitt grabbing Linda by the head & dragging her back into the ring. Fannie hoists Linda up onto her shoulder before driving her into the mat with a Power Slam.* Jeannie: Jeezum crow... Just end it already. Tom: I can't say I agree with the wording or tone, but I think Fannie has this match in the bag. Not that the crowd minds this at all. Danny: And as they shouldn't. This is a message to all those in the back, to those that seek employment on the independent scene, and even to me. If you want to be in league with Miss Package, you have to up your game considerably. Jeannie: Or be a masochist. Danny: Oh? You are throwing your hat for the title as well? *Fannie places both her massive hands on Linda's tiny neck again. Linda struggles to fight back but manages to feebly get a kick to Fannie's stomach. Fannie backs up as Linda comes charging towards her. Fannie manages to avoid Linda & shoot her into the ropes. Linda rebounds & Fannie levels her with a massive Clothesline.* “OOOOOHHHH!” Tom: Well, I was about to say that Linda just got a second wind but I was cut off by Fannie before I could even get the words out! Jeannie: Did I see teeth? Or a head de-attach? Danny: That impact reverberated from the very walls of the arena. As a fellow Clothesline master, I am truly impressed. Tom: As was the crowd. And with that, I think Fannie senses that's all! *Fannie sees Linda lying on the mat, trying to nurse her face after absorbing the full brunt of Fannie's arm. Once again, Fannie picks Linda up, setting her right onto her shoulders. Fannie cranks on Linda in this position a few times before spinning her around & planting her with the "Dirty Little Secret".* Jeannie: Good night! That's it! Danny: Miss Marvel did much more than what was expected but I guess even fleas get a lucky shot. But compared to Miss Package, she should not have even showed up. At least not after that powerful move. Tom: And Fannie goes for the cover as the crowd chants along! 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! Tom: It was only academic after that Clothesline, but Fannie has again shown the world why she is the Undisputed Women's Champion! Danny: I agree, Mister Bailey. In fact, I think I will congratulate the fair woman personally for her victory. Jeannie: Oh PLEASE DO. *Fannie's music starts to play again as the referee raises her arm.* Finkel: Here is your winner... FAN~NIE... PACK~AGE! *Fannie stands proudly next to the referee & performs a series of brief bodybuilding poses to the cheers of the crowd. Meanwhile, back at the announce table, Danny has abandoned her erstwhile position beside Tom & Jeannie & is making her way into the ring after retrieving both titles of Fannie's. She presents the W*I*G Undisputed Women's Championship belts to Fannie, who gives a cautious look before taking them from Taylor. The Greeley Gal then reaches out and grabs Fannie to raise the enormous muscle woman's hand again. As Fannie celebrates a little bit more, Danny takes a few steps back to give her a small round of applause all her own. Fannie gives unsure cocked eyebrow as she is offered a handshake from Danny. Deciding to forgo the cheap Hulk look around, she takes Danny's hand. The two women shake hands before Danny tips her hat to Fannie and leaves the ring.* Tom: Well this is a strange turn of events... Jeannie: ...I wanted to see that denim bitch beaten down.
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Post by Team Ireland on Jan 31, 2010 16:35:55 GMT -5
*We return from another commercial break only to hear the sinister opening strains of "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" beginning to play in the W*I*G-Sphere & the crowd immediately start booing. At the upbeat of the song, Coach O'Hare walks out from behind the curtain, waving his Hurley as always. O'Hare is followed closely by Sean McCann. Sean drops to one knee & points backwards over his shoulders with his thumbs as his partner, Shane Malone emerges. Malone stands behind Sean with his arms held over his head, his fists clenched.* Finkel: The following Tag-Team contest is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time-limit. Introducing first, proudly representing their home country of Ireland, being accompanied by Coach O'Hare, at a total combined weight of 489lbs, "The Celtic Giant" Shane Malone & "The Don Juan of Donegal" Sean McCann... TEEEEEEAAAAAM IRRRRREE~LAAAANNND!!! Tom: Tom & Jeannie back here in the W*I*G-Sphere & trying to forget the awful memory of having Danny Taylor sat next to us for the duration of that last match. Jeannie: No kidding. I'm thinking about burning these clothes. UGH! *Team Ireland's Green, White & Gold pyro explodes at the top of the ramp as O'Hare raises the Hurley high. After the pyro explosion, Sean springs to a standing position again & turns around to face Shane. The two men bash fists together & Sean slaps Shane on the chest.* Finkel: And, in the ring, their opponents, at a total combined weight of 430lbs... TRAVIS WESTBROOK & JOSH BREWSTER!!! *Brewster & Westbrook raise their arms to a mild pop. Both are roughly about 5' 10". Travis wears purple tights & black boots; his hair is short & blonde. Josh wears purple trunks, black boots & has a purple bandana on; his hair is long & black. Both men are athletically built, but neither is particularly huge.* Tom: Back on topic for a moment, this could be a huge match for the young team of Travis Westbrook & Josh Brewster. These guys are a pair of relative newcomers. Jeannie: They sure are hot, but I don't know that that'll be enough for them to be able to hang with Team Ireland. *Sean walks on down to the ring slightly ahead of his team-mates. O'Hare carries the Hurley slung over his shoulder & Malone walks alongside him, leaning in as the Coach whispers possible strategy in Shane's ear. Sean reaches the ring & quickly clambers up the steps, pausing at the top step to look out at the audience & give a smirk. Sean removes his silver waistcoat & tosses it to the crowd. Sean holds the top rope & springs into the ring landing on his feet. Shane gets to the ring & steps in over the top rope. O'Hare follows in, entering between the middle & top ropes. Sean runs to a ringpost & spreads his arms out in a Randy Orton-esque fashion. Shane rips off his Team Ireland shirt & tosses the shreds to the audience. The Coach continues to wave the Hurley around as he stands in the middle of the ring.* Tom: Team Ireland certainly don't seem to be short on confidence going into this match. Jeannie: Why should they be? They've proven plenty, not only here in W*I*G, but just about everywhere they've been. *Coach O'Hare gives some final instruction to Shane & Sean before he exits the ring & moves down beside Tom & Jeannie.* Jeannie: ANOTHER guest commentator? Is General Fernandéz trying to send us a message? Tom: Never the less, Coach O'Hare has to be pretty happy about his teams chances here tonight. *O'Hare fumbles with his headset a moment before placing it on.* Tom:[sarcastically] Coach O'Hare, so nice to see you. O'Hare: The pleasure, Tom, is entirely yours. DING-DING! *Travis starts off the match against Sean. The size advantage is clearly in Westbrook's favour. The two men engage eachother with a collar & elbow tie-up. Sean manages to get a kick into Travis' gut & his opponent doubles over. Sean quickly snaps off a standing Frankensteiner. Travis rolls into a corner, trying to get his bearings after being taken off his feet so quickly. Sean makes a dash towards the corner & Travis is immediately trying to cover up. He suddenly realizes that no impact has occurred. He remains seated in the corner wondering just waht is going on. Sean has flipped up onto the turnbuckle & is delicately balanced on the top rope. He swings back down again, forcing his feet into Travis' chest & face.* Tom: An impressive move there from "The Don Juan of Donegal" with that Headstand Dropkick. O'Hare: Frankly, Tom, what do you expect? There's littel that Sean does that ISN'T impressive. Jeannie: Oh, God! I hope that's true... *Sean makes the tag to Shane who steps in over the top rope. Now the size advantage has clearly swung back in Team Ireland's favour. Shane drags Travis out of the corner & prepares to set him up for a Powerbomb, but Westbrook manages to sneak out of it through Shane's legs & makes a desperate tag to his partner, Josh Brewster. Brewster, though he's a little more ripped than his partner, seems a little uneasy about getting into the ring with Shane. He cautiously steps in while the referee orders Shane to keep his distance.* Tom: Josh Brewster seems a bit trepadacious about entering the ring with Shane Malone. O'Hare: And I suppose you'd be charging in there all guns blazing, aye? *Josh runs right at Shane & manages to slip behind the "Celtic Giant". Josh throws a few clubbing blows to Shane's back. Shane merely shrugs off the shots & turns around, smashing Brewster with a brutal looking clothesline. Shane props Josh up against the ropes & delivers a stinging slap to his chest. Josh winces & staggers away, his hands close to his chest where, no doubt, a large red palm-print will shortly appear. Josh struggles to make it towards his own croner & make the tag to Travis. But Shane clamps his hand around Brewster's face with an Iron Claw. Brewster panics for a second before dleivering an uppercut blow to Shane's elbow. Shane is forced to release his grip & Brewster makes the tag to his partner.* Jeannie: Ouch! A punch righ to the elbow joint! May not be the prettiest strategy, but it's effective, O'Hare: Surely a move like that is illegal! Come on, ref! *Travis is only too keen to enter the ring when Shane is at a disadvantage. He orders Brewster to get into position & the two men set Shane up for a Double Suplex. They can't quite seem to get it & Shane reverses the attempt, suplexing the two of them right over!* Jeannie: Looks like Westbrook & Brewster underestimated the pure strength of Shane Malone! O'Hare: And that move is undeniable evidence of why you should NEVER understimate any member of Team Ireland! *Shane picks Travis up again & whips him towards the ropes. Shane catches Westbrook on the rebound & plants him with a Spinebuster. Shane then makes a tag to Sean who springs in over the top rope. Sean & Shane pick up Travis. Shane sets Travis on his shoulders as Sean runs the ropes, preparing to hit him with "Whiskey in the Jar". But Sean is cut off by Josh Brewster who nails him with a Clothesline before he can execute the swinging neckbreaker. At the sight of this, Shane drops Travis. He turns his attention to Brewster who immediately jumps up & nails Shane with a Clothesline too. Shane reels back from the move just slightly. Brewster bounds off the ropes & hits Shane with a second one, causing the Irish Big Man to back up to the ropes. Josh gets Travis back to his feet &, together, the two men manage to dump Shane over the top rope & outside. Josh & Travis exchange a quick nod Travis quickly scales the turnbuckles, launching himself off the top & crashing right into Shane.* Tom: Perhaps this is evidence of why you should never underestimate your opponents either, Coach. Westbrook & Brewster are mounting an impressive comeback! *Josh returns his attention to Sean. Sean runs towards Brewster & ends up getting a boot to the face. Josh picks Sean up in a Suplex position before swinging him back downwards almost DDT style. Josh makes a cover on Sean...* Tom: A Suplex into a DDT! This could be it for Team Ireland! *... but the referee is refusing to count. He says that Josh isn't the legal man.* O'Hare: HA! That's the lack of experience of these two young fellas. They weren't even paying attention to who's legal & who isn't! *Meanwhile, Travis isn't faring too well against Shane Malone. After they have both recovered from Travis' plancha to Malone on the outside, Shane whips Travis towards the steel security railing, then dumps him over the top of it stomach first. Realizing his team is in danger of losing by count-out, Josh races outside & tries to drag his partner back into the ring. He attacks Shane with a Bulldog off the ring apron, sending "The Celtic Giant" face-first into the floor. Josh then helps Travis off the security rail & rolls him back into the ring under the bottom rope.* Jeannie: What a Bulldog from the apron! Westbrook & Brewster are impressing me more & more as this match goes on. O'Hare: Erm... if you'll excuse me I need to go &... do... things. *As O'Hare takes off his head-set & leaves the announce table, we can see that Travis is barely able to get back to his feet. He's holding his ribs, clearly in great pain. Travis & Josh both hit Sean with kicks to the mid-section &, as he's doubled over, they each hook him up in a Half-Nelson. Before Sean has time to react, Travis & Josh dump him on his head with a Double Release Dragon Suplex!* Tom: What a move by Brewster & Westbrook! I have a feeling Team Ireland will remember this match for some time! Jeannie: I have to admit, they certainly have me impressed & not just because they're extremely hot. *Josh aids Travis in going to make the cover on Sean. Josh stands back, keeping an eye out for Shane as the referee makes his count...* 1... 2... *... where's 3? Coach O'Hare has dragged the referee out of the ring before his hand could hit the mat for a third time.* Tom: So that's what he got up for! He couldn't keep his nose out of this match! *Josh turns around to see just what the hell is going on. He sees O'Hare getting into a heated debate with the official on the outside. As Josh looks on this scene with frustration a pair of large muscular arms grab him from behind, locking him into a Full Nelson. Josh realizes just what's about to happen, but he's unable to stop it as Malone plants him with the "Dragon Slayer".* Jeannie: And now Team Ireland seem to be about to turn the tide in their favour again! *Shane drags Travis off Sean & attempts to rouse Sean from his prone position on the mat. Sean gets back up & Shane makes a gesture to the top rope. Shane hefts Travis onto his shoulders in a Canadian Backbreaker. Shane drops down to his knees while holding Travis in this position & Sean jumps off the top-rope with a Double Stomp to Travis' mid-section at the same time completing the "Emerald Isle Crusher". Shane throws a weary Sean on top of Travis as O'Hare allows the referee back into the ring. The referee starts his count...* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! Jeannie: And they've done it! *"I'm Shipping Up To Boston" plays once more as Shane & Sean get their arms raised in victory.* Finkel: Here are your winners... TEEEEEEAAAAAM IRRRRREE~LAAAANNND!!! Tom: Finkel would be making a whole different announcement if O'Hare hadn't distracted the referee earlier. *O'Hare enters the ring & also raises the arms of his two young charges as the crowd boos & jeers. The Irish trio exit the ring. Sean still celebrates all the way up the ramp & O'Hare leans into the camera barking " YOU WILL NEVER BEAT THE IRISH!" before we cut away to the next scene.*
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Post by The Hardcore Disciple on Feb 1, 2010 1:02:26 GMT -5
*We see ubiquitous W*I*G backstage reporter John Cena in a gymnasium setting. His back is to the camera, his microphone in his back pocket, and he's shooting from the three-point arch off a convenient rack of basketballs. He's clearly in a zone, nailing shot after shot in a row without blinking.* Cameraman: Um, John? We're on. John: Nn-gah! *Fumbling for his microphone and spinning around hastily.* Thanks for warning me, Paul! *clears his throat* Hello, my name is John Cena, and I was Mr. Basketball Vermont 2001. *Walking across the floor* With me today is W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion Chaz Stone, alongside him are W*I*G Women's Champion Fannie Package and the Bayou Bombshell, Lana de la Croix. *The top dog of the company looms into the frame, and he looks like he's sweating up a storm. A towel draped over his broad shoulders, he seems slightly out of breath, but still overtly jovial.* Chaz: An'a bonny morn t'ye, lad! John: If you don't mind my asking, this venue is a bit unusual for you, what's going on in here exactly? Chaz: Lad, we're gettin' back in fightin' shape. Y'see, a'ter th' pay-per-view, we kinna all took th' holidays aff. Lana: *Just barely on-screen* Maybe YOU did... Chaz: Eh-heh-heh...*stuff-stuff-shove off screen* But ennyhow, we all 'ave matches comin' oop, an' we need ta knock aff th' rust. E'eryone 'ere's in da same state righ' now, bu' we lot're bein' held t'a higher stannard. Aye've a title defense against dat dirty, yella-tailed Dublin dog Aidan Donnelly, Lana's sure ta 'ave a big match, an' Fannie's defendin' her belt as well. Aye know aye'll need ta be a wee bit faster den aye am ta beat Aidan once an' fer all, so dat's today's trainin'. John: So what is all of this, then? It looks like, well, a training camp. Fannie: *muscling into the frame* This is our secret weapon for this break. An old family friend of mine is the strength and conditioning coach for the Nova Scotia Harbormasters, so he's volunteered to coach us back into shape. ??: Alright, you three, break's over! Let's get back to work. *The camera quickly pans over to find the source of the voice. It finds a man in his late 40s, dressed in a Harbormasters sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and a worn out blue ballcap. His salt-and-pepper moustache bristles with his every word from his mouth, and his bulbous nose is three shades redder than the rest of his face. This is Coach Keegan, the man now working with our three heroes.* Keegan: Time to work on agility. Half-court box drill to the right, line it up. *The trio step onto the half court line of the gym. About 10 yards in either direction of the line are white tape lines, marking the boundaries of the drill. The coach lines up in front of them, whistle in mouth and stopwatch in hand. He blows his whistle and they're off. The object is to first touch the white line to the right, then the one to the left, before crossing back over the midline going back to the right. Lana is the first to complete this task, unsurprisingly, with Chaz finishing about three seconds behind her and Fannie about a second and a half after that. The coach blows his whistle again as Fannie finishes the drill.* Keegan: Alright, not bad at all, Lana. Chaz, that's better, but you still need to work on this one. Fannie, you really need to focus on your agility. This is not the time to start slacking off now, come on! Line it up again, this time to the left. John: Coach Keegan, is there anything you'd like to say about your planned regimen? Keegan: Yes--it's a secret! This is a closed workout, pal, so unless you've got basketball shorts on underneath those khakis of yours, clear out! John: I, but, um-- Keegan: *Shoving John out of the gym.* Go, shoo, scat! Don't need the enemy finding out our regimen, whether they be the Irish or those bastards from Bucharest! *pointing to the cameraman* You too, skippy! *Coach Keegan proceeds to shuffle both men into the hallway with great speed.* John: The nerve of some people...I guess that ends our interview. We'll be right back after these messages.
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Post by X on Feb 7, 2010 14:12:43 GMT -5
*The screen slowly fades into a shot of the New York skyline at night.* "This company isn't what it used to be. It just happened so fast. In a world in need of heroes, it seems heroes are in short supply. It's as if those without morals are making the rules. The bad economy made things worse. People are doing anything they can to hold on to their jobs. W*I*G is a company in need of a saviour & I will be the man to do it. I am what this company needs!" *The camera pulls back & we see a tall masked man standing atop a building looking out over New York City.* "I am X!" *A quick cut away & then...* X Coming soon...
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Post by James Bon Jovi on Feb 18, 2010 19:37:08 GMT -5
Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the TIGERPATH DUAL PATH CHAMPIONSHIP. Introducing first... *The opening bars of "Bad Medicine" start up as James Bon Jovi struts out onto the stage, title belt draped over his left shoulder, clutched on the side of the strap with the accompanying hand. Greeted by the boos of the audience, James absorbs all of it with a smile and flashes his big blue shades into the flooding lights above him, before hosting his title high and making his way down the aisle.* Finkel: From San Diego, California, weighing in at 242 pounds...he is one half of the TigerPath Dual Path Champions...JAMES...BON...JOVI! *James walks down to the ring with a heavy but energetic step, his head held high as he runs up the ring steps and vaults over the top rope into the ring. He turns around, raising the title belt high above his head and grins, before taking off his sunglasses and handing them to the referee, who in turn hands them off to the timekeeper.* Jeannie: Ooh, so pretty. Do you think he'd let me help oil him up before the matches? Tom: ...no, pretty sure not. Jeannie: How do you know? Tom: Because that's the only presumption that allows me to keep my sanity working with you. *The Maxx walks out onto the stage wearing his usual ring attire (Colour Scheme 1; see profile) following the muffled guitar riff of "Caboose". He brushes off his Tigerpath Dual Path Championship which rests on his shoulder, then leans over slightly, holding his fastened belt with one arm. He stops a moment with his legs spread & his belt held aloft as the fans jeer before he flips the belt onto his shoulder & resumes walking down to the ring.* Finkel: And his Tag-Team Partner, from Atlantic City, New Jersey; weighing in at 215lbs, he is one half of the TigerPath Dual Path Champions... THE MAXX!!! *He scoots onto the apron, sitting on the middle rope before swivelling around & scrambling up the turnbuckle, leaning over again before displaying his belt to the crowd.* Tom: Such modesty from these two. If it wasn't for the fact our show is on a locked time slot, they'd probably spend another hour showing off their titles to everyone. Jeannie: Those belts are blindingly shiny, and so are they...so what's the problem? *Bon Jovi takes the microphone from Finkel & The Maxx requests a mic of his own.* The Maxx: Well, looky-looky. Who would have ever thought a pair of Tag-Team Champions in W*I*G would actually DEFEND their belts in less than 147 days?! Hey, whatever happened to the shumps who didn't want to defend their titles ever? Bon Jovi: I think they're in France or something. However, worthless titleholder's geographical locations aside, ladies & gentlemen, Admirers of the Acropolis... BEHOLD! Now, we bring to you for the first time anywhere, The Maxx & Bon Jovi's "Charmed Chance". *The Maxx reaches into his pocket & produces a small, black cloth bag.* The Maxx: Within this bag I hold the names of every wrestler on the W*I*G roster & even a few that aren't. Since W*I*G has not taken it upon itself to find suitable challengers for these highly prestigious titles... *Both men stop for a moment to admire their respective belts.* The Maxx: We figured, what better way to handle things than to give every wrestler a possible shot. Jeannie: What a magnanimous concept. Tom: Oh, please. Now, lo & behold as the first names picked are the Zephyr Brothers or some such crap. Bon Jovi: This concept allows everyone in the company a fair chance to get a shot at these belts. Frankly, I can think of no better way to determine who gets the privilege of being in the same ring as the Dynamically Delicious Duo of Deities of the Acropolis of Bewilderment. It certainly beats waiting around for 147 days not doing anything. The Maxx: Now, which pulchritudinous pugilists will be the privileged pair? *The Maxx holds the bag open in Bon Jovi's direction. Bon Jovi reaches in & pulls out a small rolled up piece of paper. Bon Jovi unrolls this tiny scroll to reveal two corinthian pillars.* Tom: What the...? Who is that supposed to be? Bon Jovi: Two pillars! We know what that means. Allow us to introduce our opponents for the evening, the challengers for the TigerPath Dual Path Championships & the first ever winners of the "Charmed Chance"... The Maxx & Bon Jovi: THE ZEPHYR BROTHERS!!! * "Confrontation" starts playing as Mark & Mike Zephyr appear on the ramp. The audience boos the outcome of this "lottery drawing" loudly.* Tom: Oh, what a surprise, The Maxx & Bon Jovi pick THESE two as their challengers. Jeannie: It's not like they were chosen on purpose. The piece of paper signifying the Zephyrs happened to be the first one drawn from the bag. It was pure chance. DING-DING! *There's little flashy manouveres or posing from the Zephyr Brothers who race straight towards the ring. As soon as they enter they're met with a Leg Lariat from Bon Jovi & a Shining Wizard from The Maxx respectively.* Tom: Oh, I'm sure this will be a highly competitive match. *Together, The Maxx & Bon Jovi pick up Mike Zephyr... or is it Mark? Anyway, they pick up one Zephyr Brother & whip him off towards the ropes. The Maxx follows closely behind the Zephyr as Bon Jovi remains in place. The two then nail the hapless Zephyr with the "Sunset Slice".* Jeannie: Ooh, the power! Tom: Next time we're at the tables, you're bringing a bucket to spill all your drool into. And maybe a chem toilet for all the drek, too. *As the other Zephyr, now back on his feet after absorbing The Maxx's Shining Wizard, approaches the Dual Path Champions. A stiff right-handed punch from James Bon Jovi sends the Zephyr brother reeling & Bon Jovi places his own head between the Zephyr's knees, lifting him up in position for an Alabam Slam. The Maxx quickly makes his way around to Bon Jovi's back & grabs the head of the Zephyr brother. Bon Jovi drops backwards as The Maxx hits a "Maxximyzer" & the two men who frequent the Acropolis of Bewilderment complete the "Hypebomb".* Tom: Big shock: the Zephyr Brothers aren't winning against their GOOD FRIENDS The Maxx and James Bon Jovi. Jeannie: Friends? Maybe. But these two teams have a lot of respect from each other and this age-old rivalry has come to a head here tonight! Tom: What rivalry? Jeannie: You just don't ever pay attention, do you?*Returning their attention to the first Zephyr Brother, Bon Jovi instructs The Maxx to head towards a corner. Bon Jovi whips the Zephry towards The Maxx who responds with a blistering "Maxx Factor" before he places the Zephyr on the top rope. The Maxx follows up to the top & smacks The Zephyr across the face, evidently mouthing off at him as well, afterwards. The Maxx then springs up & snaps off a Frankensteiner, sending the unfortunate Zephyr towards the waiting Bon Jovi who drives him into the canvas with "The Crush".* Jeannie: Goodnight! *The referee gets into position to count as The Maxx dumps the other Zephyr Brother outside the ring.* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! Finkel: Here are your winners & STILL the Tigerpath Dual Path Champions... JAMES BON JOVI AND THE MAXX!!! *The fans in the W*I*G-Sphere boo vociferously for the announcement & the sham of a title match. The referee hands the Dual Path Belts to The Maxx & Bon Jovi who embrace eachother & bash their belts together as if in a high-five.* Jeannie: What a match! Tom: I agree. What a match it was to see the Zephyr Brothers lie down just barely get edged out in this "epic" battle here tonight. Jeannie: See Tom? Now you're finally starting to get it. *Bon Jovi & The Maxx roll out of the ring, oozing arrogance from every pore, & raise their highly-prized championship belts in the air once again as the crowd continues to jeer themselves hoarse.*
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Post by Team Ireland on Feb 21, 2010 12:46:12 GMT -5
INTERIOR- A GYM
*The camera pans around the empty training facility which includes a wrestling ring as well as other more traditional workout equipment.*
Aidan [V.O.]: See, the problem with Chaz Stone is, he's going to be training in the areas he thinks he lacks.
*Shots & clips are shown of Aidan sparring with a partner wearing big protective mitts.*
Aidan [V.O.]: He's going to want to try to match me for, like speed & agility.
*Shots of Aidan springing over a vault, split-legged. Before we cut to a shot of Aidan sitting in the gym, a white towel over his shoulders, his hair somewhat matted with sweat. He looks up into the camera with a smile.*
Aidan: Only thing is... so am I.
*A shot is shown of Aidan practicing various suplex moves on a sparring partner.*
Aidan [V.O.]: He's probably trying to improve his technical skills a wee bit. And, yeah, that's okay...
*Aidan is shown wearing a green hoodie top, running up the steps in an empty arena before we cut back to the shot of him.*
Aidan: But the fact is, he's never going to match me in these areas. I'm alot smarter than Chaz Stone. I'm not going to try to match his strength. Fact is, apart from Fannie Package & maybe even our Shane, I doubt that anyone can. But I know what I do best.
*Various clips of Aidan competing in-ring are shown, including him hitting "The Guinness Hangover" on Chaz &, finally, "burying" him with the Tricolour. Cut back to Aidan sitting in the gym.*
Aidan: And what I do best is PROVE why I AM the best.
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TNT
Opener
Posts: 40
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Post by TNT on Feb 27, 2010 19:59:45 GMT -5
*We come back from commercial to this disclaimer:
The following was filmed at the pay-per-view Hanukah Hell. However, it didn’t are due to technical difficulties. We are airing it today at the request of one Toby Nicholas Tucker, AKA TNT.
*We come back from commercial on the W*I*G backstage area near the entranceway. John Cena is standing there, waiting for TNT and Nicole to come by.*
Cena: Welcome back to W*I*G: Vindication. I’m John Cena, and I’m currently waiting for TNT to come out to get his thoughts on the situation. L. Rey and Damien Blood came by earlier, being pulled by referees and security guards and trying to get at one another. It appears that this rivalry…
*Suddenly, TNT, leaning on Nicole, emerges from the curtains. They walk by, and Cena walks up to them.*
Cena: Mr. Tucker, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on L. Rey and Damien Blood interrupting your match.
*Suddenly, TNT stands up straight and grabs the microphone from Cena.*
TNT: *to Cena* THOUGHTS!? DO I HAVE ANY THOUGHTS!!!!? Oh, I have some thoughts, alright! Sadly, most of these thoughts can’t be aired for all the little childrens to hear! So, I’ll censor myself as best as I can! *to camera* I’M FUCKIN’ PISSED OFF!!!! Jesus Christ! What kind of organization are you people runnin’ here!? How can those two Neanderthals be allowed to run in willy-nilly and beat the shit outta me while I’m wrestling for a title!? And, why in the blue hell did they have to come out when I was about win the Blazin’ Path Title!? Why not come out in the beginnin’ and spare me the knowledge that that title was in my grasp!? What? Were they distracted by watching Lost!? Or, did they purposely want to fuck with me!? DAMMIT!!!! I CAN’T FUCKIN’ STAND IT!!!! *kicks a nearby trash can* I just wanted ta come here, kick ass, take names, and date a few pretty ladies! Instead, I got midget mariachis bashin’ me in the head with guitars and Rambo wannabes tryin’ to suck my blood like they’s some vampire! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! If you two wanna fight me, then I’ll give ya the opportunity! But, I make the match! I make the rules! I make the place and the date! This will be on my terms! Take it or leave it! And, you two fuckin’ take it! Because if you don’t, then I’ll my revenge some other. An’, y’all sure as hell ain’t gonna like it! Now, the gauntlet has been laid down! YOU CHEAP, LYING, NO-GOOD, ROTTEN, FOUR-FLUSHING, LOW-LIFE, SNAKE-LICKING, DIRT-EATING, INBRED, OVERSTUFFED, IGNORANT, BLOOD-SUCKING, DOG-KISSING, BRAINLESS, DICKLESS, HOPELESS, HEARTLESS, FAT-ASS, BUG-EYED, STIFF-LEGGED, SPOTTY-LIPPED, WORM-HEADED SACKS OF MONKEY SHIT BETTER TAKE IT!!!! HALLELUJAH! HOLY SHIT! WHERE'S THE TYLENOL!?
*TNT drops the microphone, and he and Nicole walk off.*
Cena: Well, some harsh words from TNT. Nevertheless, I have a feeling that his challenge will be…
*Suddenly, TNT comes back and grabs the microphone from Cena.*
TNT: I have more insults for the midget and the vampire!!!! FURTHERMORE…
*Suddenly, Damien charges at TNT and takes him down. The two men start pounding on each other. Then, L. Rey comes running up to the scene and attacks Blood. As they beat on each other, TNT gets up and starts pounding on L. Rey. Then, the security guards and referees run up and try to pull all three men off of each other. As this goes on, we cut to the next segment.*
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Post by Timmy Barnes on Feb 28, 2010 18:54:13 GMT -5
*The lights go down in the W*I*G Arena, and the classic guitar strum of "Stairway to Heaven" eminates from the speaker system. Some smattered cheering is largely drowned out by a heavy collective groan from the majority of the audience.* Jeannie: Oh joy. Tom: What's this? You're not tripping over yourself to get at this guy's goodies? Jeannie: I might, if he was mute. Or in better shape. Or had a shorter entrance. *The unrest in the crowd is palpable by the third minute.* Tom: The crowd is filing out as we speak! Jeannie: That's a good idea. I'm going to the concession stand. Tom: Could you get me a Sprite? Jeannie: I could, but I probably won't. Tom: *sigh* I'll cover it. Jeannie: That's more like it. *Finally, at about six minutes in, Timmy Barnes emerges from behind the curtain, and the crowd goes...mild. Timmy's actions are genuinely face-like, but his hand claps and attempts at interacting with the crowd are met with, at best, lackluster enthusiasm, leaning toward reluctant acceptance. Still making the walk to the ring, a briefcase in his right hand, he collects a microphone from a nearby stagehand. Hiking himself in to the ring, he enthusiastically throws his hands into the air. The fans couldn't care less. Finally, he begins to speak.* Timmy: Hello to all my fans tonight! *Mild applause* I'm back from my whirlwind world tour! *The crowd is utterly confused.* Tom: He was gone? I guess nobody else knew either. Timmy: Yes, and what a journey it was! From the mountains of Tibet to the jungles of Brazil to the blacktop of Hoboken, New Jersey, I have sent out my Rising Star Challenge wherever I have roamed. Many have answered my call, but as you might guess...none have beaten me. *To illustrate, he gestures to the discarded briefcase in the corner. The crowd seems highly unimpressed.* Timmy: And I faced some stiff competition, too! I defeated Jake "The Snake" Roberts in the beautiful town of Ypsilanti, Michigan! Tom: Good on you--you beat a man who'd job to a bath towel for a ham sandwich these days. That's something to be proud of right there! Timmy: I beat Uruguay's greatest luchador, El Jefe! The Don of Hoboken, No Cheese! Perry Hanscomb, the Man with No Neck! Irwin R. Shyster! Ludwig von Backscratch! Kenzo Suzuki! I've even beaten one of the greatest champions of our time--David Arquette! Now, because of all these defenses, the stakes have gone down significantly. Still, the Rising Star Challenge stands at $50,000 on the line! Now then, do I have any takers, or has my odyssey finally silenced all comers? *Suddenly, a calliope starts tooting and puffing out the tune of "O Canada". The crowd seems relieved that someone else is coming out to break up the tedium. Tornado Jones briskly makes his way out of the back and to the ring, stopping at varied intervals to strike some impressive muscular poses. He clambers into the ring and strides mightily up to the next-gen nincompoop. Politely, he asks for the microphone.* Tornado: Say there, pally, good to see you back. That's a lot of fellas you've beaten, sure, but they sound like a pack of two-bit johnnies to me. Timmy: HEY! These are all highly-decorated champions I've beaten, you take that back! Tornado: Can't say that I'm impressed--I've never heard of these palookas! Timmy: Are you saying you doubt my awesomeness? Tornado: I'm saying that we've both got our boots laced up, and if you're looking for a good, sporting match for that sack o' clams right there *points to the briefcase*, then why don't you take on this Big Six right here, right now? *The two men start jawjacking. They back up and do a quick stretch. Timmy lunges at Tornado in mid-stretch, microphone in hand. Tornado ducks the loaded shot and trips his foe, clearing away as Timmy stumbles into the corner. A referee at ringside calls for the bell and slides into the ring. Tornado strikes a muscular pose and dares his foe to come at him again. Timmy crashes into Tornado with the shoulder block, but the smaller old-schooler is not shaken. Timmy rushes in again with a shoulder block, and this one makes Tornado stumble back a step, but he quickly recovers and shows he's not cowed by striking a powerful chest pose. Timmy shoots off the ropes and comes at Tornado with an obvious clothesline, but gets taken off his feet with a judo arm drag. Tornado keeps hold of the arm after the fall, sinking in a deep arm lock.* Jeannie: Hey, Tom, I'm back. Tom: Hey, Jeannie, there's a match going on. Jeannie: *sarcastic tone* Naw, really? I'd have never guessed! Tom: No need for sarcasm, Jeannie. *pause* Where's my Sprite? Jeannie: I couldn't get one--not enough room. Tom: You could get one of those cardboard carriers? Jeannie: Well, I didn't. Tom: ...thank you SO much, Jeannie. *Timmy works back to his feet and grabs the ropes. Tornado quickly lets go of the hold, and his generosity is rewarded with a kick to the stomach. Timmy follows this with a pair of desperate clubbing blows that put Tornado on bended knee. Timmy tries to follow up on this, but gets countered with a fireman's carry.* Tom: Slick counter by the time-warped strongman in his first match in the W*I*G ring. He's certainly holding his own against the grandson of the great Archibald Barnes. Jeannie: True, but that's not exactly high praise. My great aunt could hold her own against this boob. *Timmy uses the ropes to climb to his feet quickly. As he turns back around, Tornado blasts him with a perfect dropkick that sends Timmy over the ropes. Timmy brocks the landing, his head directly colliding with the apron. The impact causes the briefcase to tumble to the floor outside with Timmy, currently clutching his head in pain. The referee begins to count him out.* Referee: 1! 2! 3! 4! *Tornado comes over to the side of the ring and peers over the ropes, seeming concerned about his opponent's health. Timmy has a handle on the briefcase.* Referee: 5! 6! 7! *Timmy puts one hand on the apron.* Referee: 8! 9! 10! *Timmy drops to the floor with some finality.* DING DING DING! Tom: Whoa-hey! Jeannie: Did someone just beat Timmy Barnes? Is this lame challenge thing of his over? Tom: It just might be! *The referee raises Tornado's arm, and the crowd lauds the victory. Timmy and the briefcase are nowhere to be found, but Tornado doesn't seem too concerned now as he celebrates.* Tom: His first victory looks to be a big one here, but he may not get the prize he sought out. Either way, he seems satisfied that he's shut Timmy up for once. We'll be right back after these messages! *Fade to commercial*
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Post by The Hardcore Disciple on Mar 2, 2010 21:38:40 GMT -5
*The time: Today, right now. The location: the cold, murky bowels of Halifax Coliseum, the home of the Nova Scotia Harbormasters. A steady rhythm of footfalls echo through the empty of the stadium. The camera pans to a steel, cadet blue door simply labelled "Visitor." The door swings open, revealing a well-equipped locker room, empty save for one running projector and Coach Keegan. Enter John Cena...*
Cena: Coach Keegan-- Keegan: AAUGH! *quickly dives behind his chair* Dammit, you spooked me, you sneaky, needle-necked little twit! Where'd you come from?! Cena: Um...you invited us...? Keegan: Oh...yes. Yes, I did. Come in, but don't dally. No need letting spies in with you.
*Coach Keegan shuffles back to his seat. John Cena can only shrug into the camera and brace himself for impact.*
Cena: Sooo...I assume this is all connected to the champ's training? Keegan: You'd be right, kid. I've been studying up on his matches, and I've found the kinks in his armor that he needs to work out before the pay-per-view. *pulls out a clipboard* I'll let you read my analysis, but don't say a word about what you've seen here! We don't need his weaknesses broadcast to the world! Cena: O...kay. *scans the document briefly* I assume you're still scouting on him now? Keegan: Right again, young man. However, his most obvious flaws I'm working on while I go. Cena: The champ is here, then? Keegan: Of course he is! He's working out right now. *a rapid smacking is heard at the door* Speak of the man himself...will you excuse me?
*Coach Keegan walks over to the door, and John Cena motions for the cameraman to follow. Now in frame is the W*I*G World Champion, Chaz Stone. His shirt is off, his headband soaked in sweat. Breathing heavily, he appears to be bleeding from the head. A larg backpack is lashed to his shoulders and appears to be heavily weighted down.*
Keegan: *checks his watch* Good time. Take a break. Chaz: *not bothering to remove the weight* Can ye tell me why Aye'm doin' dis again? Keegan: You're good at pacing yourself in a regular match, but in a more hardcore setting, you have a tendency to falter there. That'll lose you a match against someone more experienced than yourself in a heartbeat. Chaz: *looks offended* Ye're feckin' crazy! Aye've ne'er a prollem wit' dat afore! Keegan: Well, better to stave it off now than worry about it later...besides goven the stipulation of the match, you working out while bleeding should give you a mental edge--you'll know already how to focus and work while blood's in your eyes. Chaz: But Aye already-- Keegan: All right, break's over. Another five laps, with more weight this time. *reaches to the side, pulling the W*I*G World Heavyweight title belt from hiding.* Just to remind you what you're fighting for, Champ.
*Chaz shakes off his fatigue and takes on his way again. John Cena is behind the coach.*
Cena: Um, Coach? Keegan: *jumping a bit* Jesus, kid, stop sneaking up on me. What now? Cena: You mentioned a stipulation for the World Championship match--we'd not heard of this. What is it? Keegan: It's a barbed wire rope match, though why you wouldn't ask your boss is beyond me...now, I have to kick you out--the rest of this workout is closed. Cena: But-- Keegan: Closed! I have more film to analyze!
*John Cena and the cameraman are quickly shown to the door by force.*
Cena: What the Hell?? Cameraman: Um, John... Cena: No, this is a mockery! That officious prick hauls the champ up here in secret, then has us drive up here overnight an interview, then dismisses us in-- *checks his watch* --less than five minutes!! Because he can' "work the camera"?? Bullcrap! Cameraman: Jo~hn.... Cena: The gall! *mocking voice* Why're you asking me? *normal voice* Because MY BOSS won't tell me a damned thing, is why! Cameraman: JOHN! Cena: WHAT?! Cameraman: We're still rolling. Cena: *white as a ghost* Uhh...wow, what a revelation! The W*I*G Heavyweight Championship will be contested in a barbed wire match! Remember, you heard it here first! Chaz Stone v. Aidan Donnelly, live on pay-per-view! We'll be right back after these messages. *under his breath* I am so, so fired...
*Fade to black*
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Post by Team Ireland on Mar 8, 2010 17:08:55 GMT -5
INTERIOR- A GYM*The camera pans around the gym where we see large posters of various Irish sporting figures such as Barry McGuigan & Brian O'Driscoll as well as a large Irish Tricolour. In the middle of the gym is a wrestling ring & we can also see various other pieces of equipment such as weight benches & punching bags. The camera stops it's movement upon the sound of a door slamming against the wall & a couple of raised voices. The notable South Dublin & Belfast accents imediately define the two new arrivals as being Coach O'Hare & his protegé, the challenger to the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship & Team Ireland Captain, Aidan Donnelly. * Aidan: A BORBED-WIRE MATCH? ARE YOU SERIOUS? AND WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING TO SHARE THIS LITTLE DETAIL WITH ME? O'Hare: YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAID HE COULD HAVE ANY STIPULATION HE WANTED! OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOUR ATTEMPTS TO APPEAR LIKE A GOOD SPORTSMAN? *Aidan & O'Hare suddenly notice the camera.* O'Hare: Oh, crap! Aidan: Ah, feck it anyway! Not like he believed I was actually genuine. Look, I had the chance to actually leave here, did you know that? Declan Kidney was, like, seriously on the phone to me about going to join the Irish team for the Six Nations, but I turned him down, because I think THIS match is more important. Sure, Ireland are doing, basically, okay, but they know, & O'Driscoll especially knows, that we could've easily had back-to-back Grand Slams if I'd been on the team this year. O'Hare: Okay, just stop there. I don't need to hear about your rugby dreams, your Leinster Senior Schools Cup Medal, How many phone calls you've had from Declan Kidney, or how much Ryle Nugent & George Hook have talked you up. You're in W*I*G now & you have the opportunity to become the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion, that's what's important. That's what matters! Aidan: Look, I already said this is more important than rugby! You don't need to tell me that, I KNOW that! But it's the whole Borbed-Wire thing that has me... O'Hare: Barbed-Wire? It's just another match! Think of all the matches you've been in. Ladder Matches, Escalator Matches, Steel Cages, Chamber Matches... You said it yourself; you've been in every one of those & STILL managed to come out on top! This is just another match! Aidan: You're right. There's no stipulation that I haven't managed to over-come. This might be, like, my first Borbed-Wire Match, but those other matches were my first ones too. So this one goes out to Chaz Stone, not that he would've trusted me anyway, but I'm through with pretending to be a gracious challenger, you're lucky that an athlete of this caliber is challenging you at all, jock! Because if there's one thing that we have proven toime & again over all the years that Team Ireland have been wrestling it's that YOU WILL NEVER BEAT THE IRISH!Borbed-Wire? No focking sweat! *Aidan mimes wiping sweat from his brow before flicking his hands into the camera before we fade out.*
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Fannie Package
Local Talent
W*I*G* Women's Champion
Bigger is Better!
Posts: 21
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Post by Fannie Package on Mar 25, 2010 18:23:04 GMT -5
*The familiar Drum & Bass heavy remix of "Maneater" blasts throughout the W*I*G-Sphere. The crowd start cheering in anticipation of the arrival of the Undisputed W*I*G Women's Champion. She doesn't disappoint as she strides out onto the stage after approximately 20 seconds to a great reaction. She holds her twin belts high as the audience cheers. Fannie is clad in a tiny, ill-fitting black dress that looks as though it's about to be rent asunder by her enormous musculature.* Howard Finkel: Ladies & Gentlemen, please welcome at this time, the Undisputed W*I*G Women's Champion... FAN~NIE... PACK~AGE!!! *Fannie, a little unsteady in such poor-fitting clothing, makes her way on down to the ring, high-fiving fans & frightening men as she goes.* Jeannie: Well, Tom, you're the guy in the know. Why is Fannie Package coming out here & taking up precious air-time that could be given to Jason Hereford or L. Rey? Tom: In an unusual turn of events, Jeannie, your guess actually would be as good as mine in this case. *Fannie, rather gingerly, steps into the ring between the top & middle ropes, probably showing off more than she intended to the audience behind her. Fannie asks The Fink to hand her a microphone & he complies, handing it over & bowing out of the ring.* Tom: Well, whatever it is, I guess we're about to find out. Fannie: Thank you, Howard. *She struggles for a moment to keep both belts balanced while she holds the microphone up to her mouth.* Fannie: As you no-doubt have all seen, my good friend, the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion, Chaz Stone... *The mention of Chaz's name provokes a big pop from the audience.* Fannie: Well, as you are all aware, he will be facing Aidan Donnelly at our next PPV. Sorry, allow me to correct myself, he will be defeating Aidan Donnelly & continuing his reign as W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion at our next PPV! *This provokes an even louder reaction than the previous one.* Fannie: However, while Chaz has a challenger for his title, I, rather strangely, have not been assigned one. I also noticed that another close friend of mine is left without a match for the show. Lana... *The crowd cheers at the mention of Fannie & Chaz's close friend. Fannie pauses for a moment, letting the audience cheer.* Fannie: Lana, we had a fantastic encounter before just after I won these titles. It would be my absolute honour if... *Fannie's gracious speech is suddenly cut off by the sound of "Jeepster" as Tracy Jones makes her way out to the top of the ramp. She's holding a microphone and starts talking as she walks down to the ring.* Tracy Jones: I hate to interrupt you. You see, I hate it when people interrupt me as well. Hell, it is my main pet peeve. Nothing really ticks me off as much as people interrupting. Well, that, racism, and Mötley Crüe. I can't stand that band. *walks up the steel steps and enters the ring* And, as the good book says, "Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself." At least I think that's what it says. It's been a while since I've read the Bible... if that is the book that saying comes from. Anyway, I should get to my point because A. my grandmamma sure as heck ain't gonna like that little Bible hiccup and B. I ramble. It's a bad habit of mine, and I need to cut back. Starting now. My point is I don't interrupt people because I don't like it. However, when I do interrupt people it's because I'm angry. And, here's what I'm angry about. You were gonna give that W*I*G Women's Title match to Chaz's girlfriend, weren't you? *Fannie looks on in confusion for a moment.* Fannie: Wait... you had that long, tedious preamble to ask that one simple question? Hold on, don't answer. We don't have five hours here. Not that it really concerns you, but, yes, I was going to give the title shot to Lana. In her last few matches she's really shown great improvement &, frankly, has done alot more to prove she deserves a shot than you have for pretty much your whole tenure in this company! Tracy: First off, honey, if I wanna go through a speech as long as War And Peace just to ask one damn question, I will. Second, I didn't just come out here for one question. In fact, I have a few. And, you just led me to my next question. You think Creole Lady deserves a shot at your than me. What I want to know is: why? Fannie: Lana has worked on her own to get to the level she's at. She just had a big victory over Rosie at Hannukah Hell, in case you didn't see it. From what I've seen your victories all seem to come due to the help of someone else. Whether it be Damien Blood or another guy you might be familiar with by the name of Toby Nicholas Tucker. I'd be hard-pressed to think of a match you've even been involved with that had a clean finish. You know what? You think you deserve a shot? You got it, honey. Even if only to prove that I know I can beat you & then there won't be any need to question why I'm more willing to give a shot to a girl like Lana instead of you! Tracy: What!? Are you serious!? Did you just give moi a title shot!? I am shocked! Fannie: Yes. Is it that hard to understand? Maybe if I shoehorned it somewhere into the middle of a 20-minute monologue you'd understand bette. But the basic agreement is, yes, I am offering you a title shot, largely because I don't want to have to sit through another one of your mind-numbing speeches. And here's a tip, maybe before our match, you should work out more than just your jaw muscles. On second thought, maybe you ought to make as much use of that yapping mouth as possible because after I'm done with you you won't really be able to do much in that department. Tracy: Whoa! Calm down, missy! And, I use that term loosely. But, anyway, I didn’t go on for that long! Jesus! You’re acting like I came out and started reciting all of Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets. But, that’s neither here nor there. You see, I did understand; but I was shocked that you would give me a title shot for obvious reasons. I think we all know what those obvious reasons are. Though, judging by the look on your face, I don’t think you do know what those obvious reasons are, do you? Fannie: Well, for once you're right. Once again you have left me with absolutely no idea what you're trying to get at. Tracy: Oh how cute!? You’re playing dumb. Well, you shouldn’t do that. It’s unbecoming of ladies. Though, I don’t think YOU should worry about that. *laughs* Anyway, what I mean is that you do know. Deep down inside, in a part of your soul that you won’t admit to yourself, you know why you’re giving that Crazy Creole multiple title shots. She’s your friend. Fannie: Well of course she's my friend, that's common knowledge. But I only gave her title shots because she worked hard to earn them! These are shots that Lana is totally deserving of. The fact that she's my friend is purely coincidnetal. Hell, I even gave Maeve O'Hare a title match! That was not based on friendship, I can assure you. And look, you've got your damn title match &, you can mark my words, I'm certainly no friend of yours! Tracy: Oh, come on! Yeah, you gave that Irish banshee a title shot. But, did you give her another one? No. Now, here you are trying to give you buddy from Nawlens another title shot. Not giving her an opportunity for a title shot by winning a match, like what is done for 99 percent of the time. And, where is she? Why isn’t she out here? Shouldn’t she at least had come and asked for a rematch? Why are you just coming out and handing it to her on a silver platter? Last time I checked, you ain’t the generalissimo running things around here! My God, you two are like a female Nash and Hogan. At least, you two put on actual matches instead of Fingerpokes of Doom. Though, I wonder how long will it be before that starts happening. Fannie: Well last time I checked I'm still the champion &, surely, I ought to have some say in who gets to face me. And just because Rosie was insistent on freezing out challengers after one match with them, that doesn't mean I'm going to be as strict with anyone who faces me! However, if you're unhappy with me offering title shots, maybe I ought to revoke that one I just offered you, huh? Tracy: Woah, there girl! I didn’t say that. I definitely want the title shot. I mean, if I don’t take it, then you and little Lana will be hogging the title until kingdom come. And, I ain’t gonna let that happen! No siree Bob! I will accept your offer, and then I will beat you for the Undisputed W*I*G’s Women’s Championship. AND, I will save it from the politics and the back scratching that you have tarnished the title with! I will be the savior of that title and of women’s wrestling in W*I*G! I will be a fair and just champion who will defend her title against any and all challengers! Not just those who braid my hair and partake in pillow fights with me! I will make all my buddies fight hard to earn the right to even talk about getting a shot and not hand them title shots on a silver platter! I will be the fighting champion this company deserves! Not a female Hulk Hogan who uses all her pull to keep herself at a time! Your reign of terror has ended! I have come to slay the dragon and save this fair land from your wrath! So, fair fans chant with me—DING DONG! THE WITCH IS DEAD! DING DONG! THE WITCH IS DEAD! DING DONG! THE WITCH IS DEAD! *The crowd just ignores her attempts to start a chant by booing.* Tracy: Oh, screw you people! Still, the fact remains that I will stop this company from becoming another WCW by putting an end to your political bullcrap once and for all! Fannie: You wanna act like you're all righteous, honey, then, by all means, you keep living in fantasy land. You've got your shot now, but you've still got a six feet, three inch, near three hundred pounds obstacle in your way by the name of Fannie Package before you can even claim to have come close to getting your hands on these belts! *Fannie shows off her enormous frame yet again as the audience gives a cheer. Tracy tries not to be intimidated by the colossal woman standing before her.* Tracy: Oh yeah…well… *Suddenly, Tracy hits Fannie with a cheap shot from behind. Fannie falls to her knees dropping the belts. Then, Tracy picks up one of them and starts whipping Fannie in the back with it. However, it doesn’t seem to affect Fannie that much as she stands up slowly and turns around. She stares right at Tracy, like she’s trying to make her burst into flames. Tracy looks a little intimidated, but she quickly recovers and charges at Fannie with the belt, trying to hit her with it. However, Fannie manages to punch her before she can strike the champion with one of her own belts. Tracy staggers back, dropping the belt; and Faniey pounces on her, unleashing a flurry of punches and slaps. However, Tracy manages to fight back. Suddenly, referees run down to the ring and pull the two women apart. But they are determined to get at eachother. With one mighty shove, Fannie sends the refs surrounding her flying everywhere as she bursts out from their midst to get her hands on Tracy again. Tracy stands back a little & mocks Fannie as she is once more besieged by a sea of black & white shirts. This time a few extra officials come from the back to hold the hulking W*I*G Women's Champion & her rival in check before we fade out.*
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Post by Team Ireland on Apr 5, 2010 14:48:46 GMT -5
*"I'm Shipping Up To Boston" cues up in the W*I*G-Sphere & the assembled crowd are booing almost to a man. After about 30 seconds of music, Coach O'Hare's smirking mug is the first one to appear through the curtain. He carries the Tricolour Hurley slung over his shoulder. He's followed closely by Maeve &, finally Aidan, who, as usual, carries a Tricolour draped over his head & shoulders as well as sporting a dark green "Ireland" hoodie. The team pause a moment at the top of the ramp. The green, white & gold pyro goes off behind the team. Aidan & O'Hare hold their Tricolours up high behind them. Maeve flashes a quick, elegant, double biceps pose. Aidan drapes the Tricolour over his shoulders again, leading the team on down towards the ring.*
Jeannie: Alright, some action! Finally! Tom: With Coach O'Hare in tow. It may be premature, but I call shenanigans. Jeannie: Oh come on, Tom. He's just come out here to provide strategic advice and moral support to his charges. Tom: Uh-huh, and I'm the Count of Monte Cristo. Jeannie: Really, Tom, what reason do you have to doubt his intentions? Tom: Prior experience.
*Maeve & Aidan stop just outside the ring & Coach O'Hare rushes around them, holding the ropes open for them to enter. Once they do, Maeve & Aidan head to adjacent corners. Aidan holding his Tricolour aloft once again & Maeve removing her Team Ireland shirt, balling it up & tossing it into the crowd before a quick flex again. O'Hare stands on the middle rope in between them, waving around his Tricolour Hurley.*
Howard Finkel: Now in the ring, at a combined weight of 451 pounds, accompanied by Coach O'Hare, "The Warrior Queen" Maeve O'Hare & Captain Aidan Donnelly...
*Aidan whispers something in Finkel's ear.*
Finkel: Sorry, "The GIANT KILLER" Aidan Donnelly... TEAAAM... IRRRELAAAAAAND!
Tom: Giant Killer? Jeez, when is he going to let that one go?
*Aidan raises his arms at the mention of his self-appointed nickname before he hands off his Tricolour & Hoodie to a nearby stage-hand. Bagpipes fill the air in the arena while the lights dim, turning to light blue and white spotlights that search the arena. They all focus on the ramp. The bagpipes fade out, yielding to Alice Cooper's "School's Out". Over the din of the music, a roaring engine can be heard, a roaring engine that revs on command. Chaz Stone parts the curtain with force on his motorcycle as the crowd cheers mightily for him. Riding in the back is Lana de la Croix, holding the Saltire high above her. He throws up a Maloik and revs the engine for the fans as they try to out-strip it in noise. They roll quickly down to the ring on his ride, then does a lap around the outside. When he gets off, he swings his far leg over the top and to the ground. Chaz grabs his flag and waves it around in proud, wide strokes, taunting Team Ireland with the motion. Chaz slides into the ring head-first, while Lana jumps onto the apron and over the ropes, climbing into the corner. He stands up and throws up a double Maloik for the fans, though without his usual swagger, while Lana curls downward after a short, shy pose.*
Tom: Here's the World Heavyweight Champion and his chosen partner for the night. Jeannie: What do you think he's doing after the show? Tom: My educated guess is not you. Jeannie: Tom, I am appalled-- Tom: Do. Not. Start. Any denial will only be a further lie to the people.
Finkel: And their opponents, weighing in at a total of 406 pounds, "The Bayou Bombshell" Lana de la Croix and the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion CHAAAAAZ STOOOONE!
*Chaz steps over the top rope, leading Lana to be the first one in the ring. Seeing this, Aidan volunteers to start the match for his team.*
Jeannie: Is it just me, or does Chaz looked simply bushed? Tom: I heard he just got done with one of Coach Keegan's more hostile workouts just before this match started. Seems like bad timing to me, but there must be something to it. Nevertheless, this tag team matchup looks to be starting with Lana and Aidan squaring off. How do you think the high-flier will do against Team Ireland's captain? Jeannie: I'm giving Aidan an edge, just on his big advantage with experience.
*Aidan and Lana circle each other in the ring. Aidan is waiting for Lana to make the first move, while Lana seems hesitant to rush in too hastily, lest she pay for it on the chin. She feigns a rush, putting Aidan on his heels. She then calls out Maeve defiantly, pointing to her an demanding she tag in. Aidan responds by taunting her in ribald fashion. In the middle of his taunt, Lana surprises the Irishman with a solid running dropkick that catapaults him into the corner. Again she voices her demand. Aidan seems much more compliant this time around, but getting put on your ass by someone half your size will do that to you. The tag is made, and Maeve enters the ring, curious about the Cajun's mental state.*
Tom: I'm not convinced that this is a good idea, calling out Maeve like this. Jeannie: She seems to think she has more to prove, and she's right.
*Maeve has fewer qualms about bullrushing the much smaller Louisiana lass. Lana reacts as if taken by surprise herself, narrowly ducking a heavy lariat and rolling through. Maeve charges in again, but gets taken down with a drop toe hold. As Maeve gets to her hands and knees, Lana quickly hops up on her and jumps off, flipping in mid-air and driving her knees deep into the Derry gal's spine.*
Tom: Lana dipping into her bag of tricks early. Jeannie: It'd have been better to hit Maeve's front with that--more of their combined moves work over the head and torso. Tom: Ah, but Chaz has a number of moves that impact the back--she may be setting the table now for Emerauld Reekie or the Emerald City Crush later on. Jeannie: I guess so, but it still seems a bit foolish to me. Tom: We shall see, as Lana puts the boots to her larger foe.
*Despite the continued pressure, the wee Derry lassie makes it to her feet. Lana takes off and bounds off the ropes, hoping to strike her opponent to the ground again, but she gets scooped off her feet and pressed into the air by Maeve. Maeve gorilla presses Lana to the ground, the impact causing her to flop to her back. Maeve drops a big elbow for follow-up...then another, then fakes to a third, then takes to the air, crushing the tiny lass with a big splash. Maeve transitions to the pin hold...*
1... 2... Not yet.
*Maeve pulls Lana up by her hair and laces her with a nasty elbow bunt to the head. Maeve crushes Lana with a Uranage, then locks in an Anaconda Vise. Lana swats at the ropes for a break, but a nearby Coach O'Hare helps his daughter's cause by pulling the bottom rope away from the southern belle. With a great thud, Chaz drops off the apron and lumbers toward the manipulative manager, causing him to abandon that plan in favor of keeping himsel in good condition. With this, Lana finally manages to get her free hand on the rope, and the referee calls for the break. Maeve takes her sweet happy time in complying, releasing the hold at 4. She yanks Lana to her feet from the ground and whips her into the corner. She tags in her partner, who seems a bit overeager to get his hands on a now-weakened Lana.*
Tom: Of course, now Aidan is more than willing to spring into action. Jeannie: Tom, I'm shocked! Appalled, even! Are you implying that Lana is incapable of standing up to Aidan Donnelly? I thought you were her biggest supporter, to hear you talk! Tom: I'm just saying it's awfully funny how he gets blasted out of the gate, but now that Lana's reeling from Maeve's assault, he's all ready to go again. Jeannie: He just needed some rest, is all. Tom: ...you have got to be shitting me. Jeannie: Language, Tom, and shut up! There's hotness in the ring now. Tom: Urgh...
*Aidan slinks into the ring and takes stock of his undersized foe's predicament. He grabs her by the face and begins badmouthing her heavily. Lana responds by stomping defiantly on her foe's foot. The opening allows Lana to hit a Throwback on Team Ireland's captain. Before she can continue her run, Aidan counters by harshly whipping her hard into the turnbuckle. As she bounces back, Aidan flings her across the ring with a German suplex that gets great air. As she crashes down to the mat, Aidan goes right back on the attack, locking in a tight headlock as Lana goes for her corner. Aidan begins pulling her back, but still she struggles forth, gaining a bit of ground. Aidan begins to win the struggle, holding her arm toward Chaz mockingly, keeping her just out of reach. Chaz valiantly tries to stretch beyond himself, but to no avail. Tiring of this game, Aidan pulls Lana to her feet and runs to the center of the ring, flattening his opponent with a bulldog to keep the headlock sunk in.*
Tom: You stay classy, Aidan Donnelly. Jeannie: Crass or not, it's working. Look at how out of it she is! Tom: The fasting can't be helping. Jeannie: Huh? Tom: It's Lent, Jeannie. Jeannie: Oh...well, she should stop that. It's not healthy.
*Aidan switches the headlock to an arm bar as Lana struggles away to free herself from his grip. Finally, she manages to wrest herself from some of the pressure placed upon her limb and get to a base, albeit a shaky one. Aidan reapplies pressure, but Lana resists the force to fall down again. Finally bringing her other foot under her, Lana surprises Aidan by jumping across his body and swinging him to the mat with a lucha arm drag. Looking a bit ragged, she starts stumbling towards her corner, hoping to get a needed tag. Aidan snags her by the leg before she can get over there, but Lana instinctively gives him a swift enzuigiri before he can do anything with that. As he crawls to his corner, shaking his head, she finally tags in Chaz to the roar of the crowd. Aidan hears this and panics, slapping his partner's thigh and bailing out of the ring as Chaz Stone clatters in with a mighty stomp. Maeve gives her partner a quizzical look as she enters the ring, and is met with a big spear as she turns to face her foe.*
Tom: Chaz overwhelming Maeve with that Spear. Jeannie: I... Tom: Don't you even DARE say, " I want Chaz to overwhlem ME with his spear."! Jeannie:...
*Chaz pauses a moment as he points a finger in Aidan's direction, daring him to step in the ring. Aidan seems quite content to gather his breath on the apron for the moment. Chaz turns his attention back to Maeve who, while still hurting from the Spear manages to take Chaz back overhead with a Backdrop Suplex. Maeve takes a moment to herself to catch her breath after getting winded by the Spear from Chaz. Maeve sticks a few boots in Chaz before he can properly rally back. Maeve hits the ropes & nails a Leg Drop across Chaz's throat before clamping her immense thighs around his head in a Figure-4 Neck Lock.*
Jeannie: I bet Chaz has had his head in between the legs of many a woman, but never in this way before. Tom: I... I... *sigh* Why is it everything with you?
*Maeve pushes herself up, holding her waist as far off the mat as she can & forcing Chaz up with it, arcing both their backs. Her powerful legs constricting Chaz's air supply, Chaz reaches up to grab at Maeve's legs, but she has the hold clinched in tight. His reaching up doesn't help matters either as it causes him to sink back down slightly, meaning more air is cut off from him.*
Tom: Maeve's Thunder-Thighs being put to good use here, though I'm not sure Chaz would agree. Jeannie: And with over 230lbs strapped around his neck, I don't think Chaz will be going too close to the ropes anytime soon.
*While the referee is busy checking on Chaz, Maeve reaches one hand backwards, grabbing the middle rope. With the ref still busy, Maeve decides to use both hands to grab the rope & try to force further pressure on the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion. While Maeve pulls herself up on the ropes, the referee takes notice. He orders her to cut it out. As with Lana earlier, Maeve makes the most of the referee's count before releasing her hold on Chaz after the count of four.*
Tom: As usual, Team Ireland really know how to bend the rules up until breaking point.
*Maeve takes a step back & Aidan slaps Maeve on the shoulder, looking to pick up the scraps of the weakened Chaz. Chaz is beginning to sit back up when Aidan comes running in with a Dropkick straight to Chaz's mush! Chaz rolls back, clutching at his face. Aidan grabs Chaz's left knee & smashes it onto the mat. Then again, then again. Aidan lets out a yell...*
Aidan: AFFLUENCE!
*... before he traps Chaz in his inverted Cloverleaf hold with an added Ankle Lock twist. Chaz is, in this instance, easily able to make it to the ropes. Like his team-mate, Aidan continues to keep the hold on for as long as he can.*
Tom: Team Ireland are really going for a submission game in this match. Jeannie: They know the punishing workouts that Coach Keegan has been putting Chaz through, maybe they figure it's to their advantage to try to really wear their opponents down like this.
*Aidan rolls back, releasing the hold as he does. Chaz is getting up onto his hands & knees. Aidan takes stock of this. He takes four steps back, three to the side, runs his hand through his hair, takes a big run-up & kicks Chaz right in the stomach!*
Jeannie: That's a technique he perfected on the rugby pitch back in Ireland. Aidan was always called upon to be the kicker & he never disappointed.
*Aidan basks in the jeers of the crowd, pretending for a moment that he has just kicked a winning conversion against Clongowes Boys School. While Aidan is enjoying the crowd booing him, he fails to notice Chaz, very slowly making his way towards his own corner. Aidan truns around just in time to see Chaz make the tag to Lana. Lana charges right at Aidan, smashing him in the face with an elbow. Aidan is taken aback as Lana continues to hit him with a series of repeated forearm shots. With Aidan still dazed, Lana hits him with a Jawbreaker. Aidan bounces back into a corner & Lana is quick to act, taking him over into the ring with a Monkey Flip.*
Tom: Wow, Lana is a total blur in there. She's really been taking it to Aidan every time they're in the ring together.
*Aidan is, slightly dizzily, getting back to his feet again in the opposite corner. Lana readies herself to hit Aidan with a Handspring Back Elbow. Aidan manages to evade the move at the last second & Lana bounces harmlessly against the turnbuckles. Before she can fully get her bearings, Aidan hooks Lana up for a Suplex. He swivels his hips to get back to a vertical base, then performs another Suplex. Another turn of the hips to stand again & Aidan drops Lana with a Brainbuster, completing the "Triqueta"!*
Tom: Aidan seemed to be employing unnecessary force against Lana in that Triqueta. Jeannie: You step in there with the big boys you have to be expected to take a few knocks. I don't why Chaz didn't just get Fannie to be his partner tonight.
*Aidan toys with Lana again while he has the advantage. He rubs his boot against her face as she tries to sit up again, forcing her back to the mat. He then kicks Lana full force in the face. He covers her...*
1...
2...
*Aidan yanks Lana's shoulder up off the mat before the ref can make the count to three.*
Tom: Oh, come on, Yeah, you're able to beat up on a woman who's about half of your weight who's fasting for Lent, good man. Jeannie: How do you know Team Ireland aren't fasting for Lent too? Tom: Huh? Jeannie: Well, they're Catholic aren't they? Tom: If they are I don't think they're very observant. And judging by the bacon, sausages & eggs I saw Maeve wolfing down earlier, I'm going to guess that they are not fasting.
*Aidan pulls Lana off the mat & shoves her back towards the Team Ireland corner. Maeve climbs to the top rope as Aidan "suplexes" Lana up so that Maeve can hold her in a Powerbomb position. Maeve hits the Superbomb on Lana as Aidan gets out of the ring. Maeve opts not go for the cover on Lana either. She forces Lana back to the corner once again & sets her on the top rope. Maeve then climbs up & tries to hook Lana's arms. But Lana, weary as she is, tries to fight back. She throws a few blows that manage to cause Maeve to lose her balance before finally knocking her back to the mat with a kick to the gut.*
Tom: Maeve taking way too much time in trying to go for that Celtic Tiger Bomb when she could have just pinned Lana. Now the "Bayou Bombshell" is fighting back.
*Lana gets a back elbow shot on Aidan before managing to grab a hold of Maeve's head. Lana launches herself from the top & plants Maeve with a Tornado DDT.*
Jeannie: And Lana hits the Tornado DDT! If Team Ireland hadn't been taking such liberties this match could have been over by now.
*Both women lie on the mat, but despite taking the punishment from the last move, Maeve is getting back to her feet first. With the help of the ropes, Maeve pulls herself up. Lana is slowly crawling towards where Chaz waits with an outstretched hand. Maeve runs towards Chaz & butt-bumps him off the apron.*
Tom: It looks like they might still be able to pull it back. I don't think there's a great chance of Lana managing to get passed Maeve.
*Maeve grabs Lana by the head & drags her back to a standing position again. Maeve holds Lana at arm's length & gives her a few little light slaps across the face. Lana punches upwards at Maeve's arm, causing Maeve to release her. Lana aims a kick at Maeve's mid-section, but Maeve blocks it, catching Lana's foot. Maeve sends Lana spinning & Lana manages to land an Enzuguiri on Maeve. Lana springs towards her corner & tags in Chaz & the crowd goes berserk!*
Tom: And she's finally done it! Lana makes the tag to Chaz!
*Maeve gets back to her feet & runs right at Chaz who sends her flying with a Back Body Drop. Coach O'Hare sneaks in under the bottom rope brandishing his infamous Hurley. Chaz also manages to avoid him, sending the Coach out of the ring with an Irish Whip (Scottish Whip?).*
Tom: And now the Hardcore Highlander is cleaning house! Maeve's out. Coach O'Hare is out!
*Aidan takes advantage of this momentary distraction to kick Chaz square in the back. He follows up by dropping Chaz with a Reverse DDT. Aidan gets out of the ring again at the referee's request.*
Jeannie: And just like that, Aidan manages to put a stop to the momentum.
*Chaz hasn't quite gotten up from Aidan's attack when Maeve starts to climb up the ring-post from the outside. Maeve takes a little second to properly balance herself before launching her body off the top rope. Chaz rolls aside at the last instant & Maeve crashes on the mat. Chaz is gearing up for another Spear on Maeve as she starts to get back to her feet, but Coach O'Hare reaches in & pulls Maeve out of the ring before Chaz can do anything. As the father & daughter make their way around the ring, Lana runs at them from the apron taking down both O'Hare's with a dual flying clothseline.*
Tom: O'Hare may have saved Maeve from Chaz that time, but they couldn't avoid the incoming flight from Cajun Air. Jeannie: "Cajun Air"? Who writes this crap?
*Chaz looks towards Aidan & beckons him into the ring. Aidan looks around like, "What... me?". Chaz nods & "draws a line" in the ring with his foot. Aidan steps into the ring, then immediately scoots out again to where his Coach & team-mate lie, with the exhausted Lana nearby. He tries to revive Maeve to prevent her being counted out & takes the opportunity to stick a few boots in Lana as well.*
Tom: Aidan, again, taking some serious lierties with Lana. Jeannie: Taking liberties? She knew what to expect getting in the ring with these guys!
*Chaz moves towards Aidan, but the referee holds him back. In doing so, Chaz doesn't spot Maeve re-entering the ring behind him. Maeve clamps the Cobra Clutch on Chaz & dumps him right on his head with a "Cooley Cattle Drive". At this, Aidan hurries back to the Team Ireland corner, awaiting a tag from Maeve. By the time that Maeve makes the tag to the Team Ireland Captain, Chaz is starting to get to his feet again. Aidan quickly calls a brief conference with Coach O'Hare & Maeve. All three go their seperate ways. O'Hare to the opposite side of the ring to where Aidan is standing & Maeve over to the time-keeper's table. O'Hare begins yelling at the referee who turns his back to both Aidan & Maeve.*
Tom: SHENANIGANS! I told you! Jeannie: What the hell is Maeve doing though?
*Maeve retrieves the W*I*G World Heavyweight Title from the table & throws it into Aidan. Aidan catches the belt & waits for a second as Chaz groggily rises. As soon as Chaz is once again on his feet Aidan runs right at him, nailing him full-force with the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship.*
Tom: Oh, man. This is how they're going to do it?
*Aidan slides the belt out of the ring again as he makes the cover on Chaz, at which point, Coach O'Hare ceases his bleating, telling the referee to make the count...*
1...
2...
3!!!
DING-DING-DING!
*"I'm Shipping Up To Boston" starts playing as Aidan stands up to have his hand raised.*
Finkel: Here are your winners... TEEEAAAAM IRREELAAAAANNNNNND!!!
*Maeve & the Coach enter the ring to congratulate Aidan on yet another pinfall over Chaz. Coach O'Hare runs out of the ring for a moment & collects the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship which he presents to Aidan. Aidan takes the belt & raises it high over-head while standing over the prone body of Chaz. Aidan then looks directly into the camera, holding up three fingers.* Aidan: That's three.
*All three Team Ireland members then start laying the boots into Chaz before Aidan collects the Tricolour he brought to the ring with him.*
Tom: Look at him, you'd think he already win the title the way he's acting. Jeannie: He's 3-0 against the champion, Tom. You have to like his chances going in to the Barbed-Wire Match now. Tom: He's 3-0 against the champion in circumstances involving interference or where Chaz has been weakened.
*Aidan unfurls the flag & drapes it over Chaz. Aidan lifts the Championship belt again before dropping it on top of Chaz's chest then he & the rest of Team Ireland depart the ring.*
Jeannie: And he's looked damn tasty each time as well.
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Post by The Hardcore Disciple on Apr 21, 2010 23:50:51 GMT -5
*Location: A local hotel. Time: Roughly now-ish. A haggard-looking Chaz Stone shambles toward his door, limply holding a keycard in his massive hand. He swipes the reader with a practiced motion and continues his zombie walk into the air-conditioned room. His footing begins to fail him, and he fully stumbles, thankfully landing face-first on the bed. Regrettably, his great mass, pulled by gravity in such a way, leads to a forceful crushing of the bed's structural supports, sending the foot end to the ground. The W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion is soaked with sweat and still breathing heavily, nearly gasping for air at times. The door swings shut as the super-sized Scot tries desperately to catch his breath. Clearly, he's been through a hellacious workout. Maybe more than that, from the look of him. As he remains flopped on the now-broken bed, he lets out a groan of final relaxation and slowly lets sleep overcome his tired bones. No more than fifteen minutes pass before a knock comes to his door. A deep sigh of effort precedes a worn-out push-up. Chaz slowly comes to his feet and opens the door, revealing the red nose of the S&C coach of the Nova Scotia Harbormasters.*
Chaz: Urgh. What is it ye're wantin' naugh? Keegan: I've just come to collect you for your next session. Chaz: Nex'...session? Keegan: Yes, lad, we're in two-a-days now! Come on, get moving! Chaz: HAH! Aye, an den yer arse fell aff! Aye'll see ye come th' morrow, aye? Keegan: I'm afraid you don't understand me, son. Come on, get some fresh gear on and get to the gym--I'll see you there in 10 for stretching. Chaz: Ach, ye're serious? Aye'll 'ave ta defer, den. Keegan: *Screws up his face* Wait, you're not coming? You have to--
*Chaz holds up a single finger sternly, putting Coach Keegan on guard.*
Chaz: Dat's where ye're aff th' mark, Keegan. Ye dun ken me. Iffen aye dun wanna do sumptin', aye dun do it. Aye'm already dealin' wit' one o'erbearin' coach, Aye dun need two. Yer ideas on workouts an' mine dun agree ennymore. In fac', ye shoul' be on yer way, Aye t'ink. Keegan: Now wait a minute, champ, you NEED me. Without my knowledge and training regimen, you're gonna lose your precious little belt, and then where would you be?
*The statement gives Chaz pause, an incredulous look on his face. He rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration, then starts laughing--lightly at first, then in his usual hearty way. He even claps Keegan's shoulder, causing him to loosen up and start laughing along with the much larger man. Through laughter, Chaz begins to speak.*
Chaz: Who da feck d'ye t'ink ye are ta say dat? Who won dat cage match ta get th' contendership? Me. Who scratched an' fough' ta win dat title? Me. Who trained me durin' dat time? Jus' me. Unner yer guidance, Aye'm winless! Keegan: It was just one match-- Chaz: Ach, a match we'd 'ave won iffen Aye were nae tuckered a'ter yer insane workouts! Aye need rest, wee auld man! A'ter alla dis, Aye ken why yer team loses so often! Ye canna win a game if ye canna e'en stand, ye're so tired! Ye were a great help, but Aye can take it from 'ere. Keegan: Fine, fine. Nothing I can do to change your mind. Don't say I never warned you. Chaz: Dun gray yer 'air o'er me. Aye kin handle me own affairs. Aye 'ave fer a long time, an' Aye will fer a long time ta come. May th' road ahead o' ye be kind.
*Without another word, Coach Keegan nods and makes his way down the hall. Chaz watches him leave with the same stolid expression as he spoke with. Then, as the elevator doors close at the end of the hall, Chaz sighs thankfully. Slamming the door shut and locking it with the deadbolt, Chaz collapses again onto the broken bed. The head of the bed collapses after a strain. Chaz, still laying on the mattress, reaches for the phone and dials the front desk.*
Chaz: Ach, th' manager, please. Aye kin hold...Aye, lad, dis is Chaz Stone, room 409. Aye, room 409...Aye'm in need of a new bed oop 'ere. Kin Aye get dat by tonigh'?...Erm, a dubble...Does it matter? Aye fell on it...T'ank ye, den, an' goodbye.
*With that, Chaz hangs up the phone, closes his eyes, and grins, trying hard to eke out some rest.*
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Post by Timmy Barnes on May 16, 2010 16:53:53 GMT -5
*A tooting calliope rendition of "O Canada" signals the arrival of Tornado Jones to the W*I*G Arena, and some hearty clapping and smattered cheering show that the audience is warming to the old-fashioned strongman. He makes his way to the ring in his dressier clothes, flexing as best he can on occasion along the way. Tornado climbs the steel steps and, holding onto his boater hat, wipes his shoes on the apron and enters the ring over the middle rope. He gives the crowd one last big, barrel-chested pose as he stands in the ring. A megaphone seems to materialize near the ropes. Tornado picks it up and gives it two solid whacks to check its sturdiness. Satisfied, he speaks, his voice reaching the rafters.*
Tornado: Hurry, hurry, step right up and behold incredible feats of strength and ability! Come and see the strongest man ever to come from the harsh Yukon! You will, anyway, once I take care of some business with a member of the roster. Y'see, this huckster Timmy Barnes, he roars around with his name and his money, acting like he's big news to the world, but so far, all he's done is beat a clumsy giant by surprise.
*Booing commences for the gooberish next-gen "star".*
Tornado: In fact, I even took his challenge a while back for a nice wad of mooolah, and beat him fair and square. But before he can do what he promised and pony up the dough--23 skidoo! He's been hiding like a rumrunner ever since! Which brings me to why I'm here. Timmy, if you're here, and you're no lily-livered coward, then come out here and square up with me!
*"Stairway to Heaven" begins playing & the crowd goes mild. Timmy wanders out surprisingly early to absolutely no reaction. His briefcase is cuffed to his right arm & his boots are only partially tied as one can see the long laces string out behind him. He walks on down to the ring, trying to look confident when everyone thinks he just looks like a giant goof. He nearly trips over his laces as he makes his way up the steps. He actually does trip over the ropes when he enters the ring. Trying to cover his embarrassment he quickly stands up & acts like nothing happened. Timmy holds his prized briefcase aloft before asking Howard Finkel for a microphone.*
Timmy: Now listen here, pal, you want to parade about here crowing about how you beat me fair & square, that's fine, but what is NOT fine is you parading about here crowing about how you BEAT me fair & square...
*The audience, & even Tornado himself, have a laugh over the fact that Timmy has totally screwed up whatever he was trying to say.*
Timmy: No, wait... erm... I, um, you didn't beat me. I lost that match... That is, the match ended in a count-out. I wasn't beaten. Ergo, vis-a-vis, concordantly, the prize money remains with me & I retain my reputation as the undefeated Timmy Barnes. BOO-YA!
*The crowd boos Timmy's overbearing obnoxiousness.*
Timmy: So, counting in that match, as well as a few victories on the road...
Tornado: Now just a second there, young whippersnapper. The last time you mentioned any victories on the road they seemed to be against a bunch of no-name palookas. You wouldn't be trying to con a guy, would you?
Timmy: You mean to say that I'm trying to pull a fast one? Well then, I shall grant you a concession. Those victories accrued on the road shall be stricken from the record. My victory over you will still stand, however, & the purse remains at $40,000. I mean, that is what you're after isn't it? The money, I mean.
Tornado: At first, yes, it was just a bucket of clams to me. But the more you fool around, and the more the money goes down, the more I want to shut you up!
Timmy: Shut me up? I'm a multi-generational star in the making! I'm a huge deal--
Tornado: No, you're faker than a three loony coin!
*A respectable pop, even if the fans don't quite get the joke.*
Timmy: Moi? FAKE?! Them's fightin' words, old man! Come on, you want another shot at me?
Tornado: Gladly! But not right now, not in my Sunday best. Next time we tangle, it'll be on one of those new-fangled Pay-per-View thingies everyone's talking about. No shenanigans, no bluffs, just you and me! A good, sporting match between two noble sportsmen! Whaddya say, Jackson?
*Timmy thinks for a moment trying to decipher the old-timey carnie-speak.*
Timmy: Umm... Yyyyyyes?
Tornado: So you accept the challenge then. Good to hear, kiddo. A match between a young up & comer like you & an old fig newton like myself will be bigger than the talkie pictures.
Timmy: Sure. Erm... yeah.
Tornado: And is it safe to assume that your little case of wing-wangs will also be up for grabs, sport?
Timmy: I think so.
Tornado: HOT CRACKERS, LAD! Try to show a bit more enthusiasm.
Timmy: You want enthusiasm? How about when we face off I'm gonna beat your crazy carnie-talkin' ass back to the 1920s!
Tornado: Now see that's precisely the sort of...
*Timmy leaps up & smashes his brief case into Tornado's face. Torando goes down to the mat, holding his nose, while Timmy beats a hasty retreat up the ramp, patting on his briefcase & looking extremely proud of himself.*
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Post by The Hardcore Disciple on May 22, 2010 18:50:21 GMT -5
*We go to the ring, where a tan man with slick black hair and a thin moustache holds a microphone. Standing about 5' 10" and being lean with some slight toning, he sports a shiny blue robe, underneath which he wears a pair of white boots and white trunks, all adorned with blue stars. He adores upon the crowd, who responds with chilling silence.* : Helllllo, W*I*G! Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Roberto Jimenez the 29th, and I am the prince of a little piece of Heaven called Paradise Island. There, the air is clean, the scenery is beautiful, and the women are simply luscious. Today, I come as my kingdom's ambassador, and tonight, I will leave with your finest women and your greatest prize--the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship! *The tepid booing turns to raucous cheering when bagpipes tear through the PA system. The noise is followed shortly by "School's Out" by Alice Cooper, and Chaz Stone's motorcycle can be heard backstage. The iconic hog tears through the curtain, carrying its iconic passenger. Chaz does a lap around the ring, then parks the bike at the ramp and takes a diving slide into the ring. The W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship title belt sits at his waist. Chaz asks the challenger for his microphone.* Chaz: So wait, lemme see 'ere. On yer firs' nigh' on American soil, ye're gonna beat me? Fer th' title, no less? *Prince Roberto nods emphatically. Chaz smirks, then laughs heartily.* Chaz: Lad, Aye kin shine t'yer attitude. Aye'll put me title on th' line fer one so bold. But iffen ye lose, ye hafta get one o' yer luscious lasses o'er 'ere fer me, ye ken? *Prince Roberto thinks for a second, then nods.* Chaz: Awight, come an' fight me, den. *Chaz hands the microphone and his title belt to the referee. The bell rings, and Roberto slings his robe off at Chaz. The big Scot bats away the international object with ease and absorbs a few weak blows. Seeing his first plan fail, Roberto bounds off the ropes and launches himself at his larger foe. Chaz catches the prince in mid-flight and snaps off a trio of rib breakers before flinging him over his head and behind with a Fallaway Slam. The prince lands on his chest and flops onto his back.* Tom: Emerauld Reekie from Chaz Stone, who is looking MUCH more like himself right now. Jeannie: I'll say. ROWR! I love a fresh man--and I love wearing him out, too. Tom: Oh God, here we go. Jeannie: Stop acting so surprised, Tom--he's a damn handsome man, our World champ. *The challenger gets to his feet and rushes the champ again. Chaz this time takes him down with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Knowing this wouldn't quite be enough to win the day, Chaz hauls his foe back to his feet and into the air with a military press. Chaz displays his great strength with a few reps of the hapless prince, then releases him, cracking him with a European uppercut as he falls. Chaz goes in for a quick cover upon his impact with the mat.* 1... 2... Not yet. Tom: Do you get the feeling that maybe Chaz Stone is trying to send a message to his PPV challenger, Aidan Donnelly of Team Ireland? Jeannie: Without a doubt, but it might not work so well. Aidan's got more experience than this punk, with better technique, and he's also faced Chaz before--and won. Aidan knows what it takes to beat Chaz. Tom: Yeah--a truckload of interference from his teammates, then swooping in to humiliate him and take the spoils. He won't have that luxury this time, I don't think. Jeannie: Don't discount Team Ireland. With the wily Coach O'Hare in their ranks, anything can happen. *Chaz Stone locks his arms around his foe's legs and starts swinging him around gleefully. One release later, and the island royalty uses the momentum post-toss to roll out of the ring to recover. Chaz gives him no such opportunity, bouncing off the ropes and leaping over them, crash landing onto his prey on the outside. Highly pumped, Chaz whips Roberto back into the ring. The great Scot celebrates outside the ring.* Tom: Check out the confidence! Jeannie: Check out the torso! Tom: Check out you! Jeannie: Check out me! Wait, what just happened...? Tom: No idea! *Chaz rolls back into the ring and approaches his foe. Roberto fires back with a dropkick aimed at the large Celt's right knee. The champ drops hard from the unexpected shot, and Roberto follows up with a series of clubbing blows and a snap DDT as Chaz gets to his knees. The royal goes for a pin..* 1--No. *Chaz kicks out with force and gets back to his feet, but Roberto stomps on his foot and takes him down with a chop block. Roberto backs against the ropes and lifts his arm aloft, holding it back for an obvious lariat. He rushes the rising champ, but gets taken off his feet with a Seattle Spinebuster. Chaz wastes no time with a pin, instead hoisting the prince into a powerbomb position. Chaz smashes his foe with a powerbomb, then another one...then heaves Roberto into the air at arms' length, holding him for a pregnant pause before dropping him with a Last Ride.* Chaz: ALBA GU BRATH! Tom: Chaz Stone going into the high rent district! Jeannie: Really, Tom? You're stealing from Tazz now? Tom: Better than Michael Cole. Jeannie: A drunk Don West is a better commentator then Michael Cole. Tom: Let's not being silly now--wait, here goes! Hail St. Andrew! *The rounding body press connects hard, and Chaz wraps up for the pinfall.* 1... 2... 3! *Chaz stands up with no effort. The referee raises his arm as he raises the other with Maloik. The crowd cheers as Chaz jubilates, yelling a warning to Team Ireland that goes unheard.* Tom: Ready or not Aidan, here he comes! Jeannie: I can't wait...mm... *Fade to commercial as Chaz keeps celebrating.*
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