Jack Jupiter
Local Talent
I'm the REAL Jack Jupiter!
Posts: 10
|
Post by Jack Jupiter on Jan 28, 2009 17:32:09 GMT -5
*The camera fades to an area outside, clearly under the effects of winter weather. A line of warmly-dressed patrons is gathered at a table just outside of the W*I*G arena where a pair of highly similar-looking blonde men in red and white jogging pants and windbreakers seem to be signing autographs in the out in the cold.*
Blonde Guy: Snap yo, Mike, this is total sweet gahlic, I swizzare! *signing an autograph of his name on a photograph of the Zephyr Brothers, stacked in a terribly cheesy hip-hop pose.*
Mike: Foshizzle, Mark-in-the-house! Look at all deez goonz who shown up to get our autographs…if we’re here all day, we’ll show that old geeza James Col-VEEN we’re tough enough! *signing the same picture and handing it off to a kid before shooing him away.*
Mark: Cha-yeah, Mikesta! And DEN we’ll be da newest punks in wig.
*Suddenly, a limousine that also looks familiar pulls up next to the crowd—and out steps none other than Jack Jupiter, wearing a huge dyed-red fur coat, big sunglasses, leather shoes and jeans and a cashmere sweater with at least half a dozen scarves and bandanas wrapped around his neck. All of the people in the line turn their heads and stare blankly at him.*
Jack: Ladies and gentlemen…DO NOT FEAR! For I, the REAL JACK JUPITER will save you from this pair of poseurs! Come outeth of the coach, my bone-crushing tulip, and gaze upon this disenfranchised rabble that is clearly in awe of my awesomeness!
"...Cold."
Jack: Now Dreia...I KNOW that this isn't beautiful Tuscany...but do not worry, I feel your pain! I got you this--*he produces an incredibly girly-looking pink parka with neon-magenta fur, seemingly out of nowhere*--if it's too cold for you in your current attire.
"..."
*A door on the other side swings open, the farthest away from the pink parka. Out pops the female bodyguard of Jack Jupiter, Dreia Borbone. Clad in her usual attire, she should be freezing in this weather. But somehow she remains stoaic.*
Jack: Aaaah! Well then, glad to see you're ready to help me today, then. This wasn't for you anyway. It was for someone else I knew all too well two years ago and offered it to her as a gift, and then she turned me down and made me look like a fool, well--*his voice cracks resoundingly*--I'LL SHOW YOUUUUUU!
*Everyone else stares at him blankly, and a few people in line scratch their heads.*
Jack: Uh....well...er....ahem...where was I? Oh yes! Good people, you have been fooled by a pair of charlatains! They claim that they are here to provide you with autographs, and they will be the newest on the W*I*G roster. But...they lie! I swear by it!
*Both of the Zephyr Brothers get out of their seats and approach Jack.*
Mike: What the fizzuck with you?
Mark: OH OH OH!
Mike: What-chew tryin' to pull here, freak daddy-Q?
Jack: You shouldn't be here. This is MY autograph signing. I got all dressed up for it and you just breakdanced your way onto the scene and stole my gig!
Mark: That's a lie, yo! We Zephyrs do it clean and easy—
Mike: Fo-sheezy!
Mark: And we have a contract to prove it!
Jack: *reading allowed* "This is a contract allowing Mike and Mark Zephyr, the Zephyr Brothers, to perform an autograph signing at the W*I*G arena located in--*his voice trails off for a few moments*--and they will each receive a contract for one year at the end of the assignment. Signed, James E. Colvin."
Mike: Yo see? We was here first, doggie G.
Jack: You stole this from me, I swear by it.
Mark: But snap dog, we GOT THE CONTRACT.
Jack: But I'm the REAL Jack Jupiter, the greatest star professional wrestling--nay, the entire sports and entertainment industries combined--has ever seen! How dare you infringe on my natural, all-powerful right to be here! Shame on you both. Now, if you're really so interested in saving your jobs, you should run along, and maybe I'll give you the scraps after I take that World Title and dominate everyone in my first match.
*Both Zephyrs roll their sleeves up and clench their fists.*
Mike: You better protect yo punkass, boy, cause we ain't gonna stand for YOU taking OUR autograph gig.
*Both wind up to punch him, but before they can do anything, Jack snaps his fingers and ducks behind his bodyguard.*
Mark: What, hidin' behind a woman?
Jack: Dreia, dispose of these two baboons.
*She stares at her charge behind her and the two men in front of her. Then at the arena, where a man in a T-shirt walks by inside it's heat regulated hallway.*
Jack: I said DISPOSE...of THESE...BABOONS! *He points at the twins.* Fine, you know what? After we do this, we'll set up shop inside. Always having our way, aren't we...?
*Her eyelids droop even further at that last line. Nevertheless, she walks forward at the two twins. Sizing both of them up, she places both hands in her pockets.*
Mike: What you gonna do, suit-lady? Gonna clobber us with your powdered ELBOWS!?
Mark: Fo shizzle, brothizzle!
Mike: *turns his head and leans toward Mark* ...Shizzle my nizzle!
Dreia: ...Trash.
Mike: Just like yo mom, dig me right?
Mark: OH OH OH!
Mike: High-twelve, bro!
*They high-ten each other and give each other peace signs, waving them around at everyone nearby--including in Dreia's face*
Dreia: Count.
Mark: One...
Mike: Two...
Dreia: Three.
*She slams her forehead into Mike's chest, sending him sprawling backward. Then rams her shoulder into Mark's gut. With one fluid motion, she lifts back up to a standing position, sending him flying over her shoulder.*
Dreia: ...four.
Jack: *running over and stomping on the two fallen Zephyrs* See! That's why you don't mess with the REAL Jack Jupiter! Idiots.
*He dusts his hands off.*
Jack: And because you want to go inside...fine! We'll take this one inside. See, out of my inventiveness, I've pioneered this wonderful idea...we'll be taking this session indoors!
*The camera cuts inside the halls of the arena, the line seeming a bit longer than before.*
Jack: So uh...who am I making this one out to?
Bob: BOB.
Jack: I...see. Well then, Bob. Here you uh...*he pulls out a pen and looks for something to sign, but all he sees are pictures of the Zephyr Brothers. He signs “TO BOB, Jack Jupiter” on it, but pauses before handing it off.* Hmmm...one moment.
Jack: Are you happy now, now that we're inside? Damn, I need you to make me some copies of these, and get some scissors and glue. There's serious work to be done here.
*Jack hands Dreia what looks to be a photograph of...something.*
*She stares at him blankly before wandering away to do his random task.*
Bob: Aw man...she's gone?
*About ninety percent of the people in line promptly break rank and leave as Dreia disappears, most of them groaning and murmuring...which leaves six people in line at this point.*
Jack: *frantically looking around* What, was it something I said?!
*The camera once again fades out, then back in to the autograph session, Jack signing the last autograph--the details of which cannot be seen--as the fan walks away and groans and walks off. Scissors, paper and empty gluesticks litter the vicinity of the autograph table. He turns around and looks to Dreia, who simply stares back at him, her eyes half-closed and her face expressionless.*
Jack: Now that warms me well. Do you see how those poor people are so satisfied and rejuvenated by the REAL Jack Jupiter brightening up their day?
Dreia: *Yawns*
Jack: Tired? Well, I figured as much. I decided that since we're companions and all, and we both pitched in to get the job done on this day, I made you an autograph too. What, did you think I would forget?
*He pulls out an autographed picture and hands it to Dreia. It looks exactly the same as the photograph the Zephyr Brothers had, albeit with his head superimposed over both of theirs', and the text "To BOB, Jack Jupiter" written near the bottom.*
*She stares at it blankly through half eyes. Perhaps wondering when would be the best time to throw it away. Just then she crumples it up and tosses it behind her.*
Jack: *Not even paying attention to what she just did, and looking off* So when are you going to get that framed? Uh...no matter. Do you notice where we are?
Dreia: *she glances around half heartedly* ...Hell?
Jack: *He looks around for a moment* HAHA! That's a good one! A real knee-slapper! We're actually in...would you believe it?! The W*I*G arena! Do you know what this means? Our journey is complete! We're finally here!
*Her eyes flicker as she realizes what she must do. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a camera.*
Jack: That's right...we probably should take a picture. Alright then, let's get to it.*
*Jack leaps in front of the camera and begins striking a number of utterly bizarre combos in front of the hallway.*
*She presses the button a few times without looking to see if she has it lined up.*
Jack: *Breaking his poses after the photos are complete.* Okay! And now...to sign up. Actually I'm kind of hungry. Let's eat first! Hey, I know this is a little out of your specialty, but since you're Italian, and you people practically invented food, mind cooking me something? Nothing too heavy. Like, maybe a pesto. But go easy on it! You getting this all down?
*She flips over a poorly Jack customed photo and starts scribing something down.*
Jack: And I want that with some braised duck breast in orange sauce, on the side. Don't forget the raspberry stroganoff and the beef Danish...*he fails to notice the mistake he just made*...and while we're waiting on that food, let's go see about our contracts, hmmmmm? We wouldn't want to keep Mr. Colvin waiting for the AMAZINGOCITY that will soon meet him...
*A quick look of Dreia's writing shows that she's just done a few doodles. The pair of them walk out of the sight of the camera as Jack continues his praddling. Fade out.*
|
|
Coltrane
Opener
First Ever W*I*G* Champion
Posts: 29
|
Post by Coltrane on Jan 29, 2009 15:44:45 GMT -5
INTERIOR- THE OFFICE OF JAMES E. COLVIN
*Colvin is in conversation on the telephone.*
Colvin: Yes, I need the biggest sea-bell you have... No, I'm afraid that's too big. Y'see, life is like a box of...
*Colvin is cut off as the door to his office bursts open. The W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion Coltrane storms into the office carrying his Title Belt. He slams the belt on to Colvin's desk & presses down on the phone, effectively ending Colvin's conversation.*
Colvin: Hey there, young man, I was talking to the speaking clock if you don't mind thank you very much indeed!
Coltrane: Shut up you blithering old fool! Look, I've defended this title against the best this company has to offer. In Japan, I defended it against the best TigerPath has to offer. Is there nobody you can find that is worthy of a shot at this title?
Colvin: Now, now, if you want a fight that badly when the Colvin Cup is finished...
*Coltrane sweeps everything off of Colvin's desk.*
Coltrane: To hell with your god-damned Colvin Cup! I've been waiting for years to prove that I am the best there is! I'm not waiting for some tournament to finish so I can find out who my challenger is going to be!
Colvin: That's not the attitude I expect to hear from...
*Coltrane leans over the desk & grabs Colvin by his tie. Slowly, Colvin rises to his feet as Coltrane continues to drag him upwards.*
Coltrane: Consider this to be just a warning. If you don't come up with a chellanger for me very soon you will suffer a much worse fate!
*Coltrane tugs harshly on Colvin's tie, bashing his head on to the desk. Colvin barely even has time to yell in pain before Coltrane makes his way round to the other side of the desk. With Colvin still lying whimpering on the desk-top, Coltrane opens a drawer. He takes Colvin's left hand & places it inside the drawer.*
Coltrane: This is only the beginning...
*Coltrane repeatedly slams the drawer on Colvin's hand before finally stopping. Colvin falls to the floor infront of Coltrane, holding onto his mangled hand. Coltrane picks up his title & exits.*
Coltrane: Find me a challenger, Mr. Colvin... & make him a good one.
*Cut to the next segment.*
|
|
|
Post by Unknown on Feb 5, 2009 7:16:33 GMT -5
UNKNOWN ROOM
*FADE IN to a close up of a large, flat-screen television mounted against the wall in the interior of a dark room; the video being show providing the only form of lighting. The footage that is playing is a recent confrontation between current WIG heavyweight champion, Coltrane, and the promotion’s owner and active authority figure, James E. Colvin. Coltrane’s frustration and yearning for competition is visibly displayed as he grabs his employer by the tie and pulls him closer to his face.*
Coltrane: “Consider this to be just a warning. If you don't come up with a challenger for me very soon, you will suffer a much worse fate!”
*He proceeds to yank the tie downward, forcing Colvin to slam his head against the wooden surface of desk. Coltrane’s assault on the much older and vulnerable man continues as he places Colvin’s left hand inside a desk drawer that the champion had just opened.*
Coltrane: “This is only the beginning…”
*With that said, Coltrane slams the drawer shut numerous times, each time causing further damage to the hand of the popular owner. Finally, Coltrane ceases his brutal attack once the hand began to look almost at the point of disfigurement. He stares down at the weeping Colvin as he holds his hand in pain stricken anguish.*
Coltrane: “Find me a challenger, Mr. Colvin… and make him a good one.”
*As he finishes his sentence, the scene freezes as the pause icon appears on the top right of the screen. The camera pans back to reveal to leather chairs facing in the direction of the screen; with a circular side table between them that has two glasses of wine on its surface. The chairs are currently being occupied by two individuals; their identity shrouded in mystery due to the darkness in the room. The person in the right chair sets down the television’s remote control as the unidentified duo stare at the screen.*
Person in left chair: “My, my. Such hostility, such cruelty, such sadistic and remorseless actions towards one’s own employer.”
*The individual in the right chair calmly reaches over and picks up the wine glass beside him, sipping it slowly.*
Person in right chair: “Yes… I’m quite impressed with his work.”
Person in left chair: “As am I, my friend. It truly is unfortunate though that he is nothing more than obstacle for us—much like the rest of the roster.”
Person in right chair: “Indeed. We were right to leave that misguided company behind us. This place… this “WIG”… this will suffice nicely with our plans.”
*Following the example of his associate, the man in the left chair retrieves his wine glass and takes a sip.*
Person in left chair: “This Coltrane fellow, perhaps we’ll be more than a challenge for him.”
Person in right chair: “In that case, he’ll soon regret those words.”
*The man in the left chair raises his glass.*
Person in left chair: “I’ll drink to that.”
*The man in right chair follows suit, raising his glass as well.*
Person in right chair: “To destiny.”
Person in left chair: “To domination.”
*They tap their glasses together before finishing off their drinks. Afterwards, the man in the right seat reaches for the remote control, aims it in the direction of the TV and turns it off.*
*FADE OUT to commercial for WIGSHOP.COM*
|
|
|
Post by sigmafan on Feb 9, 2009 0:35:49 GMT -5
(Bell Rings)
The Fink: Ladies and Gentlemen, our next contest is another first round match in the first annual Colvin Cup.
*Ryan Bergman comes out with Miles Davis playing in the background. The crowd sees “Big Time” on the tights and they start to cheer.*
The Fink: Introducing first, from Las Vegas, Nevada. Weighing in at 285 pounds…Ryan “Big Time” Bergman.
Tom: Welcome to the W*I*G*Sphere. Tom Bailey here with Jeannie Lawless; we’re here with first round action of the Colvin Cup. This should be an interesting match-up.
Jeannie: It’s a classic match of speed vs. strength for the men and the makings of a classic feud for the ladies. May they destroy and unmask each other.
Tom: One can only hope.
*Moskau hits the speakers and the crowd starts to cheer even more. Bergman is pleased with his partner. Ykaterina high-fives the crowd as they cheer on one of their favorite stars.*
The Fink: And his partner, from Yaroslavl, Russia; weighing in at 140 pounds, Ykaterina Milosanova!
Tom: Quite possibly the true #1 contender for the woman’s title held by Rosie.
Jeannie: I wouldn’t be so sure on that. She has to win this with Bergman in order to get to that spot.
The Fink: And now, their opponents:
*March to the Scaffold starts up and the crowd boos. Joshua appears from behind the curtain with his head held high. If you could see Ykaterina’s face, it would be angry.*
The Fink: From the land of Purity; He weighs in at 229 pounds, Representing The Innocent, Joshua!
Tom: There’s that dastardly Joshua. He took Hensley to the limit, but Hensley pulled it out.
Jeannie: Those scars, and that body. MMMMM, why must he be so evil.
*Then Of Beast and Blood starts up and the crowd boos more. Then when Vile comes out, the crowd jeers her more. Vile however, doesn’t look like she cares about the crowd.*
The Fink: And his partner, from Las Vegas, Nevada; She weighs in at 170 pounds, Vile!
Tom: And there she is. The catalyst of all of this mess in the woman’s division. Claiming to be the real Worlds champion, thus there will be a unification down the road.
Jeannie: Hopefully, she loses that mask. Women shouldn’t wear masks, unless they are hideously ugly.
Tom: Truer words never spoken.
*Bell Rings*
Tom: There’s the bell and it looks like Bergman will start this contest and strangely enough, Vile will start as well.
Jeannie: That’s odd. I thought Joshua would start and Vile would wait for Ykaterina to get in the ring.
*Although Vile is giving up over 100 pounds and 10 inches in height, she wants to go up against Bergman. Bergman, who’s looking kind of bewildered at this sight, shrugs it off and they lock up. As expected, Bergman has the advantage and just shoves off Vile. Vile then quickly gets back up and locks back up again. Just like before, Bergman shoves her back to the neutral corner. Bergman charges after Vile, but Vile slips away, and Bergman gets hurt on the turnbuckle. Vile rolls him up for the pin.*
Ref: 1….Kickout.
Tom: Way too early for Vile to pin Bergman.
Jeannie: She didn’t have any leverage when it came to that pin.
*Bergman gets to his knees and is met with a stiff kick to the back by Vile. Bergman is stinging a bit, but Vile keeps on him with kicks to the back and stomach until Bergman gets back up on his feet and gives Vile a big clothesline. He then picks up Vile and slams her. The crowd on their feet cheering for Ryan Bergman as he stomps Vile into the canvas. He then picks up Vile, but Vile follows through with a knee to the midsection. Vile sees what’s going on and gets away from the big man and sneaks off to tag in Joshua.*
Tom: And now Joshua makes his debut in this match.
Jeannie: Let’s hope he doesn’t get roughed up too much, because then I would have to nurse him back to health.
*Joshua sees Bergman, and the big guy is starting to lose some steam. So, Joshua gets shoved back and he tags in Ykaterina. Ykaterina is in no hurry to hurt Joshua, so she jumps off the top rope and lands a beautiful missle dropkick. Joshua quickly gets to his feet, but to be met with another dropkick. Joshua charges after Ykaterina, but she gives him a ride over the top rope. Joshua is a bit dazed about what’s happening.*
Tom: Ykaterina is showing everybody that she belongs in WIG.
Jeannie: Yeah, came in like a ball of fire, let’s hope she doesn’t fizzle out too quickly.
*Joshua goes back to his corner and tries to talk to Vile. Vile is saying to him, they gotta get her to tag in Bergman. So, Joshua tags in Vile. Needless to say, the crowd is getting what they want. A Vile Vs. Ykaterina standoff is bringing the crowd off their chairs as they start throwing rights and lefts at each other. Neither one is backing down from each other. Ykaterina gets a small advantage by flinging Vile into the ropes. Both go for a shoulder tackle, but both stay on their feet. Vile goes off the ropes again and is caught with a short elbow by Ykaterina. Vile starts to stagger and Ykaterina comes off the rope and tries to clothesline Vile off the top rope, but Vile ducks and lifts her over the top and onto the mats below.*
Tom: This is what the people wanted to see. These two fighting it out, tooth and nail.
Jeannie: Yes, let them beat each other up. More Joshua for me!
*Vile goes out of the ring and lifts up Ykaterina and throws her back into the ring and goes for the quick cover, but before the ref even gets there, she kicks out. Ykaterina gets up, but Vile nails her with the knee. Ykaterina crumbles and Vile starts kicking her. Vile then tags in Joshua. Joshua starts to lay in some stiff kicks to Ykaterina. She starts to get back on her feet, but is backed up to the corner. Joshua starts to kick her in the midsection, but Ykaterina catches the leg, but is met with a spin kick to the back of the head. Ykaterina collapses and Joshua goes for the pin.*
Ref: 1…..2..Kickout.
Tom: Ykaterina kicks up and she is hurting.
Jeannie: Like I said, she fizzled out quickly. She needs to get out and bring back in the big man.
*Ykaterina is trying to get back into the match, but Joshua sends her back to his corner where he tags in Vile. Vile keeps on laying into Ykaterina with European Uppercuts and various kicks and punches to the stomach and face. She sets up Ykaterina up on the top rope, in the attempt for a Superplex. Vile has her set up and goes for the big move, but Ykaterina keeps on blocking it. She then shoves Vile off, and dives off the top rope and hits a picture perfect splash off the top rope.*
Tom: Great reversal by Ykaterina. This is the perfect time for her to go and tag in Bergman.
Jeannie: He’s got the arm outstretched. Vile is dazed from that reversal.
*Ykaterina manages to get back to a upright position. She barely manages to tag in Ryan Bergman before Vile gets there. Vile starts to backpedal when Bergman comes into the ring. He then just lays out Vile with a big boot to the face. He’s just showing all kinds of emotion, after he follows that up with a big splash. Vile isn’t getting up very quickly as Bergman continues to lay the boots to Vile. The crowd is really enjoying seeing Vile getting her comeuppance after all the trash she spewed about Ykaterina and the other ladies of the world.*
Tom: Bergman is on fire!
Jeannie: Yeah, but he’s known to get gassed really quick. I mean you could smell him from here.
Tom: Will you be serious?
*Bergman is continuing to go after Vile. He picks her up and sets her to the neutral corner. He then proceeds to throw her to the opposite side, and gives her a massive big splash. Vile just goes limp. Bergman goes for the cover, but Joshua interferes and breaks up the cover. Bergman then flings Joshua away and he goes flying over the top rope. Joshua isn’t moving, and Bergman is starting to show signs of heavy fatigue. Bergman wipes the perspiration from his brow and just picks up Vile and powerslams him to the canvas. Bergman then just rolls over to his corner and tags in Ykaterina.*
Tom: Here we go! This is the moment Ykaterina is looking for! Vile all down on her lonesome, Joshua is on the outside, looking up on the lights. And Ykaterina wants to seek her revenge.
Jeannie: She looks like she wants to kill, or I think she does.
*Ykaterina picks up Vile and looks at her in utter disgust. He just picks her up and slams her down hard. She then gives the signal for the Sloboizverzhenie. She picks up Vile…And flips her and slams her down hard and hits the maneuver. The ref is suddenly distracted by Bergman, who tries to get into the ring, but is blocked by the ref. Unfortunately for Bergman he has to watch Joshua slyly get back into the ring and pull Ykaterina off of Vile. Ykaterina goes for a roundhouse right, but it’s ducked by Joshua who then hits a picture perfect Soul Cleanser on Ykaterina, knocking her out. Joshua picks up Vile and wakes her up.*
Tom: Joshua sneaks in from behind and is about to cost Bergman and Ykaterina this match!
Jeannie: Vile needs to capitalize on this moment, otherwise it can all go to waste.
*Vile doesn’t let it go to waste. The ref finally calm downs Bergman and Vile picks up Vile and takes her out with the Reploid Buster. Vile slowly goes for the pin.*
Ref: 1…….2……3!
*Bell Rings*
Jeannie: Vile and Joshua move on.
Tom: What a miscarriage of justice. Ykaterina had that match won.
The Fink: Here are your winners and moving on to the second round; Joshua and Vile!
*Of Beast and Blood plays*
Tom: Well, what else is there to be said? Bergman is now checking on Ykaterina, who can’t be alright after taking that Soul Cleanser and the Reploid Buster within a span of 30 seconds. But Joshua and Vile will move on and will go up against the #1 seed in this tournament.
Jeannie: Good news is that they move on, Bad news is that they don’t know who the opponent is. However, I doubt both of them care. They go to the back with the spoils and the advancement, while Ykaterina goes back to Russia to think about what went wrong.
|
|
|
Post by The Maxx on Feb 9, 2009 15:25:36 GMT -5
*The Motor City Machine Guns' lame-ass music starts up & the crowd goes mild.* The Fink: The following Tag-Team contest is scheduled for one fall, introducing first at a combined weight of 435lbs, from Detroit, Michigan, Chris Sabin & The X Division Champion Alex Shelley, THE MOTOR... CITY... MACHINE GUNS!!! *The semi-popular duo make their way to the ring pointing to their right hands & mugging for the camera. They enter the ring & continue to do the hand-pointy thing as their music fades out.* Tom: It's... THAT HAND-POINTY THING! Jeannie: Honestly, I prefer Curry Man's hand-pointy thing. But I guess that works too. *That tune is replaced by Bon Jovi's "Bad Medicine" after a few seconds of the song playing, James Bon Jovi makes an appearance at the entrance-way. He wears long white pants decorated with bright pink ankhs, a pair of blue sunglasses & an open leather trench coat. He flicks his well-styled long brown hair back as everything seems to speed up around him for a moment before he continues to make his way to the ring.* The Fink: And introducing their opponents, first, making his way to the ring, from San Diego, California, he weighs in at 242lbs... JAMES... BON... JOVI! *Bon Jovi climbs onto the ring apron & stands there for a moment before stepping into the ring, he scales a ring-post & holds one hand high in the air, tossing his hair back again before he dismounts & waits for his partner. "Bad Medicine" fades out to be replaced by Sugar Ray's "Caboose". A shadowy figure, lit from behind, stands atop the ramp with one fist raised & his legs spread apart. After the record scratch, the figure is illuminated, it is, of course, The Maxx. He's wearing his usual attire, a fedora & doo-rag on his head, fingerless gloves & a pair of baggy shorts. The Maxx struts confidently down the ramp.* Finkel: And his Tag-Team partner, from Atlantic City, New Jersey, weighing in at 214lbs... THE MAXX! *When his name is announced, The Maxx pauses on the ramp, bows his head & raises a single fist in the air. The Maxx slides into the ring under the bottom rope & springs back up to his feet, high-fiving James Bon Jovi. Once again, he stands with his legs apart, head bowed & a fist in the air before his music fades out.* Jeannie: It's my favorite tag team! Tom: You know, for a pair that hasn't actually done anything of note besides having a web show, they're quite the arrogant duo aren't they? What is an "Acropolis of Bewilderment" anyway? Jeannie: Oh, if only they'd be so nice as to give me the honors to find out... DING-DING! *Shelley dances excitedly, hopping from foot to foot. The Maxx & Bon Jovi do "eenie-meenie-miney-moe" to decide who starts the match. Shelley casts a glance back to Sabin as if to say "Are these guys for real?" it's at that point that James Bon Jovi attacks, catching Shelley with a Rabbit Clothesline. Shelley hits the mat face first & Bon Jovi stomps on him, getting as much offence in as he possibly can. Shelley stands up again & rolls out of the ring. Bon Jovi waits for Shelley to re-enter, but the referee shoos him away from the ropes. Bon Jovi complies & backs away from the ropes as Shelley re-enters the ring. Shelley immediately gets into a defensive stance. As Bon Jovi approaches again, Shelley slips behind him & dropkicks his larger opponent in the back. Bon Jovi stumbles forward onto all fours. Shelley uses Bon Jovi's back as a stepping stone to get to his own corner & tag in Chris Sabin. Sabin immediately gets in the ring & nails Bon Jovi with a Dropkick right to the mush. Bon Jovi rolls backwards & stands up against the ropes holding his jaw. Sabin makes a quick tag to Shelley & the pair each grab one of Bon Jovi's arms. They whip him off to the opposite side of the ring, catch him with a Double Hip Toss then do a simultaneous fist-drop. Both men do a kip-up &, as Bon Jovi sits up again, he is hit with simultaneous kicks, one to the chest, the other to the back. Shelley immediately lies on top of Bon Jovi for the cover...* Tom: Wow, breakout offense from Alex Shelley! Will that be enough to do it?! 1... 2... KICKOUT! *Bon Jovi is back to his feet, though he's clearly taken a kicking (pun intended). He tries to make his way back to his own corner, but Shelley makes a move to cut him off. Shelley aims a kick at Bon Jovi's legs, but Bon Jovi attacks with a stiff kick to Shelley's leg before Shelley's kick can connect. Shelley bends over & Bon Jovi nails him with a series of chops to the chest. The chops drive Shelley back into the corner. Bon Jovi hits Shelley with one last SUPER-DUPER stiff chop before tagging in The Maxx. Bon Jovi drags Shelley back out to the middle of the ring & places an arm around his shoulder. The Maxx scales the top rope & flies off with a Missile Dropkick as Shelley gets "Blacklisted". The Maxx scrambles to make a cover as Bon Jovi makes to leave the ring...* 1... 2... KICKOUT! Jeannie: Wow, what a great move there! Tom: I like how you hold out on compliments till those two take the advantage. *The Maxx picks Shelley up again & drills him with a European Uppercut... & another... & another. The Maxx drives Shelley back to the ropes & whips him off to the opposite side. The Maxx catches Shelley on the rebound with a Jumping Calf Kick. Shelley lies flat on the mat. The Maxx makes his way around to Shelley's head, waiting to see the X Division Champion sit up again. The instant that Shelley begins to sit, The Maxx hits the ropes & rebounds hitting a Rolling Neck Snap. The Maxx struts arrogantly around Shelley as Shelley nurses his neck. Shelley rolls onto his stomach & begins to push himself up. The Maxx goes to lock up with Shelley, but Shelley brushes The Maxx's arms aside & catches him with a quickly executed Savate Kick. Working quickly, Shelley traps The Maxx in a Figure-4 Neck-Lock. He then rolls over & proceeds to give The Maxx a Skull Fuck!* Tom: Skull-snork! Skull-snork! Jeannie: Don't you mean a Skull-- Tom: --Snork! That's exactly what I said! *Shelley makes his way to the Machine Guns corner & tags Sabin. Sabin springboards off the top rope & takes The Maxx down with a Dropkick. He drags The Maxx into a corner & sets him up into a Tree of Woe position. Sabin calls in Shelley who performs a Baseball Slide right into The Maxx's face before slipping out of the ring again. The Maxx has little time to recuperate as Sabin follows up quickly with a Hesitation Dropkick. The Maxx slumps off the ring-post & down onto the mat. Sabin drags him back out from the corner, but before he can make a cover, James Bon Jovi enters the ring & clubs Sabin in the back. Bon Jovi lifts Sabin up for a Backbreaker, but Shelley runs back into the ring & catches Bon Jovi with a Lung Blower.* Jeannie: I don't like this. Not one bit. Tom: Oh really, why is that? Something to do with the fact the Motor City Machine Guns might be the first people to really put this cocky duo in their place? *The Maxx is beginning to, groggily, get back to his feet. The Machine Guns hit him with the "ASCS Rush". Sabin goes for the pin, only for Bon Jovi to crash into him & break up his cover. Bon Jovi shakes The Maxx back into consciousness & then picks Sabin up on his shoulders, allowing him to drape over his back. The Maxx grabs Sabin's head as he & Bon Jovi hit the "Hypebomb". The Maxx goes to make the cover. But that too is broken up when Alex Shelley splashes into the ring from the top rope. Shelley stands poised to attack The Maxx, but Bon Jovi charges at Shelley & hits him with "Runaway". The Maxx whips Sabin in the direction of Bon Jovi. Bon Jovi nails Sabin with a knee to the gut & hefts him up onto his shoulders as The Maxx climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Together, The Maxx & Bon Jovi take Chris Sabin down in a "Blaze of Glory". The Maxx scrambles back to make the cover as the ref counts...* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! * "Caboose" kicks in again as The Fink makes the official announcement.* Finkel: Here are your winners... JAMES BON JOVI & THE MAXX! Jeannie: Yeah, they weren't getting up from that. Who's getting put in their place, again? *The referee stands between The Maxx & Bon Jovi & raises the arms of both men in victory, but they're not quite finished yet. Bon Jovi demands a microphone from Finkel & gets one. The Maxx also requests a microphone. The Motor City Machine Guns are seen slinking away from the ring.* Bon Jovi: Cut the music. In what may have been the most epic match to have ever taken place in the history of professional wrestling, you all just saw us easily dispose of one of the best tag-teams in the world today. And yet...AND YET...despite our obvious greatness, The Maxx & James Bon Jovi, well, we have certain problems... The Maxx: Not only do we have a pair of champions so cowardly that they ran to the opposite side of the world to avoid taking us on. Bon Jovi: And prove to even bigger cowards than previously thought by not even showing up to fight a pair of women! The Maxx: Oh, no, no, no... We have an STD riddled Spaniard & his Colombian drug mule hi-jacking the set of the highest rated web-show since the closure of Lexi's Lesbian Love-Links! Bon Jovi: Yes, it seems that The Latin Losers have been enjoying their own whacky tobacky so much that they finally flipped out and completely lost what remained of their sanity when they confused our own majestic personages with their lowly scum-boy selves. The Maxx: Indeed, The Latin Losers became completely deluded. They took it upon themselves to take over "Slippery When Wet", then proceeded to project their feelings for us, while pretending to be us, talking about themselves... confused? You will be! Roll the clips! *The Maxx directs the audiences attention towards the W*I*G-Screen as a clip from The Latin Lovers' version of "Slippery When Wet" plays.* Casimiro: Yes, it is true. We usually tell people to be substantially envious of us, but the truth is this—we are substantially envious of the Latin Lovers. Guillermo: BAWK-BWGAWK!!!! *Suddenly, a clip of the Latin Lovers walking is slow motion with the wind blowing their hair back plays.* Casimiro: We are envious of their good looks. We are envious of their hair. *A clip of the Lovers playing guitars and sings appear.* Casimiro: We are envious of their musical talents. *A clip of the Lovers hitting Hondo with the Ways Of Love appears.* Casimiro: We are envious of their wrestling skills. *A clip of the Lovers walking to the ring and a pair of panties flying at them, with Casimiro catching them, plays.* Casimiro: We are envious that they get panties thrown at them when they walk to the ring. *The clips stop.* Casimiro: In fact, we even have a little penis envy towards them. Guillermo: BAWK-BWGAWK!!!! Casimiro: You said it, Maxx. And, just why are we envious of the Lovers. Well, I can’t speak for Maxx, but for me, they make me confused. When I look at them, I feel things that I’ve never felt before for a man. I don’t know what is going on, but I think I’m falling in love with them. *The audience is laughing at the clip, which greatly displeases The Maxx & Bon Jovi for obvious reasons.* Bon Jovi: Now, you may ask, how did we discern that The Latin Losers were merely projecting their feelings for us? Firstly, as we all know, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. The Maxx: Secondly, I have right here, a hand-written note, slipped under our locker-room door with the following heartfelt confession: *The Maxx clears his throat as he pulls a piece of paper from his pocket & proceeds to read from it.* The Maxx: "Dearest Maxx & James, We humbly apologize for taking over the set of your extremely popular streaming web-show "Slippery When Wet". Looking back now, we realize we should have asked first. However, our desires to be like you & to sit in the same seats which your own rock-hard buttocks had once occupied were so strong we just couldn't waste any further time. Of course, before we dared to sit in those same seats we took our time to kneel down & sniff them lest your majestic farts had left a whiff we could enjoy. In the video which we posted on W*I*G.com, we were saying all the things we wish you would say about us. We love & respect you so much that we want to see that love & respect returned to us in kind. Of course, the world knows that I, Casimiro, harbour deep-seated desire for James Bon Jovi's magnificent washboard stomach (oh, how I long to lick ice-cream off those glorious abs) & I wish that my penis could ever some day be half the size that his is. The world is also well aware that we cannot wrestle half as good as the two of you can which is why you eliminated us so easily from the Ultimate Endurance match to crown W*I*G's first-ever Tag-Team Champions. We dearly hope that some day we lowly peasants can reach the status of God-like individuals such as yourselves & that we may, someday, be invited to sit alongside you in the Acropolis of Bewilderment. Sincerely, Casimiro Melendez & Guillermo Miramontes, The Latin Lovers" Bon Jovi: There you have it, right from the horses' brace-needing mouths! Boys, that's just not good enough. I'm afarid you'll have to remain on the outside, while we stay with all that sweet nectar, delicious ambrosia and the SECK-ZEE LAY-DAYS in the Acropolis of Bewilderment! The two of you will have to remain... Both: Substantially Envious! *"Bad Medicine" cues up again as The Maxx & James Bon Jovi drop their microphones & exit the ring to a chorus of boos.* Jeannie: Well they've won me over with that one...and everything before it. Tom: Wait, weren't you swooning over the Latin Lovers last time? Jeannie: Huh? What did you say? I was too busy staring at their bodies....you know James Bon Jovi says he can squash grapes with his pecs? Tom: Nevermind... *FADE OUT.*
|
|
|
Post by SsnakeBite, the No1 Frenchman on Feb 12, 2009 16:27:33 GMT -5
The Colvitron suddenly lights yp and the following message appears:
|
|
|
Post by sigmafan on Feb 12, 2009 18:46:47 GMT -5
*Goodbye Blood and Rose starts up and the crowd just boos. Vile exits from the back and is heading to the ring. She recently beat Ykaterina & Ryan Bergman to move on to the 2nd round of the Colvin Cup with Joshua. She grabs a microphone and starts to sound off.*
Vile: It's only a matter of time now. After taking care of that miscreant of a muskovite, Ykaterina and Fat Ass Bergman. I will become your new WIG Woman's Champion.
"Oh...really?"
*Cheers can be heard as the camera pans over to the stage, revealing Ykaterina Milosanova, holding a microphone and wearing her ring gear, along with a shimmering, steel scale skirt that ends just above the knees. She stands facing Vile, and tilts her head to the side, her left hand on her hip.*
Milosanova: Plan on using someone else to fight that battle for you, too?
Vile: You forgot that Joshua was my partner in that match. You should have known that he would have helped out because he wants that World Title as bad as I want the Woman's Title. By the way…Steel Scale Skirt? Where the hell did you come from, the Renaissance Faire?
Milosanova: Oh heavens no, I couldn't have forgotten! Especially not when he's the one who carries the team and saves you from what was almost certainly defeat. I kind of feel sorry for Joshua, he's got all the talent that he needs to be a great success and he wastes it on you. Not surprising, judging by the rest of the company he keeps. By the way, Boba Fett, the Sci-Fi convention left town two weeks ago, so if you want to go attacking my taste, just keep in mind that you're kind of fighting on a moot point.
*Ykaterina looks up and breathes a heavy sigh, before looking back at the EWT GND Champion.*
Milosanova: But I digress, Vile-one. That match followed a bit of a recurring theme in this company; ESPECIALLY in our women's division, which, dare I say it, is afflicted by a terrible disease. No, it is NOT the previously-demonstrated pox of hypocrisy--which is why I'm standing here, away from you--but rather, the tendency to be utterly underhanded. Is it strategy? Surely. And it does seem to work, at the moment. But it is one that shows a weakness. A fear to fight on even ground with opponents. You and Rosie, two of the top contenders in this division, you are utter cowards who despite being amongst the most physical and most dangerous, can't take your opponents head-on. I had you, and Fannie Package had Rosie, and what happened to each of us that cost us our matches was legal. But they are tainted victories. Instead of being able to take us out, woman to woman, you each relied on someone else to save you at the last second. And what happens when no one wrestles with a sense of professionalism and honor, because they know FULL WELL that something like what happened to us will happen to them? This great athletic art loses all senses of its meaning.
Vile: Let's face it Ykaterina. You are way out of your league. You forget athat a victory is a victory, no matter how it goes down. As far as I am concerned, you are nothing more than a pathetic, drooling, (insert really derrogative russian insult that gets bleeped) that has ever put on a mask and tried to do what I've been doing since 16. You aren't even worthy to buy a ticket to a wrestling show. If you continue to bitch about losing, then you have no future here. And, as far as I'm concerned, I kicked your ass once, I kicked your ass a second time. Now, I won't deal with a waste of molecular tissue like yourself anymore. After I destroy the rest of the teams in my wake, I'll kick Rosie's ass and become the Undisputed Woman's Champion. And there's nothing that you can do to stop me!
Milosanova: ...wha-how, thanks racism! But no. While a victory is a victory, it is no less disgraceful for that which you actively practice. Vile, you tied one match and beat me after being saved by Joshua in the next. You haven't done anything remotely impressive and you act like you own the place. As for me, while it's true that my record here is no better, at least I'm not the one parading around and talking up about how great I am. That's why I have a challenge that I'd like to issue you: I want to face YOU, and no one else, one-on-one at 28 Days Later.
Vile: I have nothing to gain from beating you again. What are you willing to put up?
Milosanova: If beating me seems ever-so-irrelevant to you, then you should have no qualms whatsoever about stepping into the ring with me. But if you must act so reluctant and uneasy about having a legitimate match, then I suppose I'll wager this mask of mine. After all, you do seem to have a bit of a fetish for it, and if you've really got faith in your ability, then no doubt it will be quite easy for you to *cough* Getsomeonetoesaveyoufromthejawsofdefeat *cough* usurp. How about you? Have any little trifle or trinket that you're willing to put up against someone whose "ass you've kicked?"
Vile: I've got $50,000 of my own money to put up. Which, to you would be more than enough to feed your poor ass.
Ykaterina: *snort* You sure do like to talk about women's asses a lot, don't you Vile? Well don't worry, I'm tolerant of others, even blowhards like yourself. I actually have an idea, better than money. How about that EWT Girl Next Door Championship title that you wear around that waist of yours? I say it's time we end all of this disjointed controversy once and for all. And when the match ends, one way or another, there can be no dispute between either of us as to who the better woman is.
Vile: As soon as I humiliate you on PPV, that should be more than enough to run you out of this organization. You're on, Ykaterina. But be warned, not even a full suit of Steel Scale Armor will save you now.
Milosanova: Which is precisely why I don't plan on wearing something even half as ridiculous as your battle armor. But enough of this petty arguing--I'll be seeing you at 28 Days Later, and from there, we can put all of this to an end. May the best woman win.
*Ykaterina and Vile, despite the distance between them, stare at each other with an intensity as if they were mere inches apart. The camera fades out.*
|
|
|
Post by Team Ireland on Feb 13, 2009 15:43:31 GMT -5
* Abyss' freaky music starts as two giant pyro explosions go off either side of the stage. This is followed shortly by "The Monster" himself making his way out. He does his usual arm-crossing schtick as he walks down the ramp before yelling "BOOF!" & spitting all over the camera.* Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, standing six feet, eight inches tall & weighing in at 350lbs, this is "The Monster"... AB~YYYYYSSS!!! *Abyss enters the ring & squats slightly, crossing his arms again, an odd sight to behold, but the crowd seems to like it.* Tom: This is Abyss' first time in W*I*G, but just because he's new around here doesn't mean we're about to take it easy on him. Jeannie: No way. His opponent is a former champion & a man he's actually faced before... & he's totally HOT! *Abyss' music comes to a stop & is replaced by Waylander's "Born to the Fight". After the brief piping at the start, Shane Malone strides onto the stage with Coach O'Hare close behind, waving the Tricolour.* Finkel: And his opponent, standing six feet, eight inches tall, weighing in at 307lbs... "The Celtic Giant"... SHAAAAANE... MAAA~LOOOOOONNNE! *Green, White & Gold pyro explodes at the top of the ramp as Malone makes his way on down to the ring. Not even stopping, Malone steps over the ropes & gets face-to-face with Abyss.* Tom: Team Ireland made a splash on their immediate debut in W*I*G, but they haven't really done much to talk about lately. They seemed to disappear for a bit over the last month or two. Jeannie: Maybe a big win from Shane tonight will get them all motivated to get back to winning titles again. DING-DING! *The two big men lunge right at one another throwing clubbing blows at each other. Eventually, Abyss manages to force Malone back towards the ropes. This doesn't faze the "Celtic Giant" for too long as he shoves Abyss off him & back across the ring. Shane charges at Abyss, aiming for a clothesline. "The Monster" ducks it & tries to pick Shane up for the "Shock Treatment", but Shane slips out of the move & tries to lock in the Full Nelson to take Abyss over with the "Dragon Slayer". Abyss manages to escape from the Full Nelson & he turns around & slugs Malone right in the face. Shane stumbles backwards a bit, but rallies back & hits Abyss with a blow equally as devastating. Abyss whips Shane to the ropes. Malone rebounds & clocks Abyss with a Running Big Boot. As Abyss reels from that attack, Malone clamps a hand around Abyss' throat. Abyss kicks Malone in the gut & pulls the doubled-over Irishman in for a Powerbomb. Malone counters with a Back Body Drop to Abyss then falls down to his knees.* Tom: Wow! This match has been all action & it's only just begun. Jeannie: I'd be even more impressed if both men could keep up this kind of action all night. Tom: Was that another lame sexual innuendo? Jeannie: It is now... WOOF! *Both men stand again, face to face. Then both take off & run to the ropes at opposite sides of the ring... only to collide again, mid-ring both men going down. Both start to rise to their feet again. Abyss whips Shane into a corner & then does his arm-crossing thing again, before charging at Shane & crushing him with a Butt Splash. Shane slumps down & Abyss sticks his foot at Malone's throat. The referee starts to count on Abyss & "The Monster" backs off Shane. Abyss rolls out of the ring while Shane tries to get his bearings again. Abyss reaches under the ring, hoking about for something.* Tom: I think we know what Abyss is looking for here. *He goes to another side of the ring & looks under there instead. Eventually he takes a gander up at Coach O'Hare who is trying to conceal a black bag inside his jacket. Abyss gives chase to O'Hare around the ring.* Jeannie: Hey, O'Hare stole it on him. Why has nobody ever thought of that before? *The Coach trips over his own feet & falls down as the bag of thumb-tacks goes flying (but remains closed). O'Hare cowers back as Abyss leans down over him. But Abyss doesn't get his hands on O'Hare as Shane takes him backwards with a Back Drop Suplex onto the floor.* Tom: Malone just dumped Abyss right on the floor! Jeannie: That's going to totally turn things back in Malone's favour. *Malone rolls Abyss back into the ring & makes a cover.* 1... 2... KICKOUT! *Abyss gets to his feet & drills Malone with a massive clothesline.* Tom: Incredible! Abyss is able to get back up after being dumped on the floor! Jeannie: And he's STILL taking it to sexy Shane! *Malone is back up nearly immediately. He clubs Abyss right in the back, sending "The Monster" down on one knee. Abyss stumbles to a corner. "The Celtic Giant" is down in a three-point stance, readying himself. He runs right at Abyss, aiming for a Spear, but Abyss side-steps Malone at the last second & Malone, painfully, collides with the ring-post. Malone reels back, holding his shoulder.* Tom: Shane suffers as flesh meets steel! That's going to affect the rest of this match. Jeannie: As long as it doesn't affect... Tom: Yeah, yeah, his performance in the bed-room... *sigh* *Abyss whips the big Irishman to the ropes & waits to catch him with a Black Hole Slam. Malone ducks under it & slips behind Abyss, again, trying to lock in the "Dragon Slayer". Abyss fights Malone off again & then manages to grab him for a Chokeslam. Malone delivers a punch to Abyss' elbow, causing Abyss to relinquish his grip. Malone quickly grabs "The Monster" in a Claw hold & plants him with "The Giant's Causeway". Shane makes the cover...* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! Tom: Malone gets the win with that Giant's Causeway out of nowhere! *"Born to the Fight" starts playing again.* Finkel: Here is your winner... "The Celtic Giant" SHANE... MAAA~LOOOOONE! *The referee makes to raise Shane's hand, but O'Hare shoves him out of the way & raises Shane's arm himself.* Jeannie: And check out O'Hare trying to hog the spotlight! Why can't he let his charges bask in the glory for a change. Tom: With an egomaniac like that, it's a wonder he didn't wear Team Ireland's titles to the ring himself. *O'Hare & Malone drape the Tricolour over the body of Abyss before they make their exit back up the ramp.* Tom: It just remains now to be seen what Malone &, indeed, Team Ireland do next. *Star-wipe to the next thing.*
|
|
|
Post by The Latin Lovers on Feb 15, 2009 17:11:20 GMT -5
*Cue a backstage shot of a door. The door is covered with the Latin Lover's insignia, with a vibe of love oozing out form it. With this being the case, one wonder's why Synthy Eris has appeared outside of their door, her sister Lexi in tow…via pull on the ear. Synthy knocks on the door, angry look on her face in perfect placement for a chewing out. Suddenly, yelling comes from behind the door.*
Casimiro Melendez: I’m telling you that you can’t do that!
Guillermo Miramontes: Yes! I can!
Casimiro: You always do this! You always go with your heart! You never think!
*Synthy knocks again.*
Guillermo: You’re one to talk! You act like you always use your brain. But, if you had used your brain years ago, then you would be married to your precious Catalina right now!
Casimiro: Hey! DON’T YOU GO THERE!
Guillermo: Okay. I’m sorry. Anyway, you can’t tell me what to do! I’m a grown man!
Casimiro: No, you’re a boy in a man’s body!
*Synthy knocks louder.*
Guillermo: Come in! No, you treat me that way! And, you eventually go along with me! So, why are you even arguing!?
Casimiro: Because, I’m tired of it! I’m taking a stand!
*Synthy opens the door, and she and Lexi enter the room. We soon see that Guillermo and Casimiro are sitting on a bench and playing Monopoly.*
Casimiro: You can’t just go around buying property willy nilly! You’ll blow all your money and eventually be forced to mortgage it all!
*Synthy glances around the room, her eyes stopping on the Latin Lovers. Her pull on Lexi's ear tightens as the girl tries to leap into the game. Lexi pouts when Synthy gives her a stout look of denial.*
Synthy: Business. Us. Match-up? What the fu-HELL happened?
*The Lovers jump up off the bench.*
Guillermo: Hey! We were just…um…nevermind. Anyway, why don’t you tell us what the hell happened?
Casimiro: Yeah! I mean, all we did was make a proposition for a match! And, not only does your brother cost us the W*I*G Tag Team Titles, but also you three disappear of the face of this earth! So, like my partner said, why don’t you tell us what the hell happened?
Synthy: I do believe I said I wasn't going to talk about why myself and my siblings disappeared during my 'return' speech. I don't have to justify that just now.
Lexi: *Squirms* DENNY HAD ME UNDER PARENTAL ARREST! 0.o
Synthy: Okay -that- I might explain at some point... My brother doesn't like you, therefore, he attacked you. You honestly think Tristan needs logic to meet whatever bloodlust he's wanting at the moment? And what exactly is it that...-this-one-here *at each word, Synthy tugs on Lexi's ear, amethyst eyes flashing* signed with your flourishing names at the top?
Guillermo: Forgive us. It’s been a while, and we’ve been having to deal with two sexually confused men and their man-crush on us, but I’m confused. She signed our names at the top of what?
Synthy:...Uh, no. You must've misunderstood. *She pulls out a handsomely decorated sheet of paper from a back pocket that should have been too tight for it.* She signed her name on this...Well, -both- of our names...
Guillermo: *looks nervous* Um…what is that!? I’ve never seen that before in my life.
Synthy: *The woman's sharp eyes widen then turn to slivers of amethyst* I'll give you a chance to say what I know you -actually- mean to say. Again, now *what* is this?
Guillermo: I have no idea what you are…
Casimiro: Oh, for the love of God! It’s a contract for that match against us and Tristan and his mystery partner for a date with you two or him *pointing to Guillermo* getting a whipping!
Guillermo: Dude!?
Casimiro: Oh, hell! She knew what it was before she came in here! She just wanted us to admit it. *to Synthy* There! It’s been admitted!
*Lexi squirms.*
Synthy: How did -my- signature approving the stipulations get on it? You bribed this girl into it, didn't you?
*Lexi squirms again, flailing wildly, and trying to tell the Latin Lovers to lie their butts off.*
Guillermo: *nervous laughter* Bribe!? Huh! What!? Bribe!? I have no idea why you would think that we…
Casimiro: You! I wouldn’t bribe anyone.
Guillermo: Whatever! I would never bribe this lovely lady into doing such a thing! I resent the accusation! I am appalled, upset, outraged, and flabbergasted that you would accuse me of such a thing!!!!
Synthy: *A stony silence passes by for a moment* You think it's worth losing your cajones to your lie? Because if I don't get the truth...
Lexi: ._.; IT WAS THE CANDY!
Casimiro: Well, you heard her. It was the candy.
Guillermo: Dude! Don’t tell her that! I mean, I didn’t give Lexi candy in exchange for your signatures. *nervous laughter* You’re crazy.
*Lexi hops up and down, and Synthy releases her hold on the poor butterfly girl's ear. Lexi jumps up- and immediately freezes when she spots Synthy pointing a long finger at her. Her eyes go wide and her mouth goes small....then a light clicks.*
Lexi: Sucks to be you guys! =D
Synthy: Sie hirnlose mann-schlampen....... *Her voice clicks over to her native tongue before she turns sideways and eyes them from the corner of her amethyst orbs.* Let me get this straight. You bribed my kid sister, who's not exactly the brightest crayon in the box-
Lexi: Yes I am. =0, =)
Synthy: Er...fine, who's not exactly the highest of IQs..to get my signature to fake and her real one. This contract of yours has myself and her as the... 'Prizes'. Of a Tag Team match-up. Am I dead on with this so far?
*Her voice is completely neutral, signifying that the Latin Lovers had better be careful with their next words.*
Casimiro: Yes.
Guillermo: CASIMIRO!? WHAT THE HELL!?
Casimiro: Oh hell! She probably had this figured out before she even came in here! We might as well own up to it. *to Synthy* Though, I should point out that this was all his idea *pointing to Guillermo*, and I just went along with it.
Synthy: Defaulting the blame won't help you. I'm not angry....
*At this the Latin Loves look at her*
....Because Tristan's the one dying to get his claws into you both, and this match is set up for him. I'm guessing that Lexi and I aren't able to participate as his partner of choice?
Guillermo: We want to date you, not fight you!
Synthy: And people say -I- have issues. Lexi barely knows what a date is-
Lexi: The date is a type of berry. Although commonly referred to as a fruit, this is not true. They are of a genus called huxetrinus diastilecus. This technically makes them belong to the same family of berries as the common cherry. The misconception is probably due to the soft juicy layer surrounding the hard seed core. See, I know things! =D
Synthy: Point proven...to a certain extent.... anyway, are you honest-to-Goddess MAD enough to try to win a date with US? With -me-? *Her pierced/scarred/bright blue eyebrow shoots sky high as Lexi claps her hands together for no particular reason.*
Guillermo: Of course! Aren’t we, Casimiro?
Casimiro: Well…I’m gonna have to be honest—I didn’t really care about Guillermo’s proposition…
Guillermo: Dude!?
Casimiro: Let me finish.
Guillermo: This better be good.
Casimiro: As I was saying, I didn’t really care about Guillermo’s proposition…at first. *to Synthy* Then, something happen: your brother! Guillermo and I had a chance to be the first W*I*G Tag Team Champions in the Ultimate Endurance. However, your brother, for whatever idiotic and imbecilic reason in his little pea-sized brain, decided to interfere in that match and not only cost us the titles but also got us eliminated first. We should be the W*I*G Tag Team Champions, not those two stupid hicks who barely show up and defend their titles. Instead, we have nothing to do but fight off the sexual advances of two sexually confused men who are bad impersonators of John Bon Jovi and a chicken! I have nothing, and my soul cries for some kind of compensation! It is a starving man in the desert, desperately praying to God for the sweet taste of water or the embrace of death, whichever He feels must come first! And, if a date with two cute is the only compensation that I can get, then so be it! I will have my water, and I will fight Satan himself to get it!
Synthy: I'm debating if I'd rather be angry or amused. I think I'll go in the direction of 'irritated'. Did you really just say my sister and I are possible compensation? What the hell? Get a bag of chocolate if you want that, because we are not a mere compensation package like most Diva-types. The only reason I don't argue this stupid ruling is to show my faith in Tristan's ability to win, and with whosoever partner he may wind up with.
*During all of this, her hands are moving fast, showing Synthy's immense distaste for those particular comments of Casimiro's. Even Lexi's stopped with her general insanity to pause and stare.*
Boys, I understand how far that ache for a title can deep, but I don't pity your situation. My brother does what he feels necessary for his idea of competition. If I were feeling less then amicable at this point, I'd probably take out some of the women gunning after the WIG Women's Title myself. But don't you ever DARE reduce myself and my sister to a consolation prize. *With this she points a long lacquered purple nail at Casimiro and Guillermo in a gesture that speaks plainly. 'Understand?'
Guillermo: Wait…I’m confused? Is the match taking place or not?
Lexi: IT IS. =0, cuz like, Syn's just ticked cuz you called us a care package because you're dehydrated or something. But I don't care who my brother gets as a partner, cuz like....he's big and scary and looks at you two like you're Twinkies! =D Uh....but....though I highly dun think it'll happen, if he loses and we gotta...'date', you...do we get to dress up like, all pretty? =)
*Synthy suddenly looks horrified…and possibly like she may kill her brother twice if he loses..*
Guillermo: YES!!!! This is fantastic! I’ll get the champagne!
*Guillermo runs off.*
Casimiro: Get the one from your fridge! I’m saving the one in mine!
Guillermo: *off-screen* I know…I know!
Casimiro: *turning back to Synthy and Lexi* One more thing ladies…I would like to apologize for my “compensation” comment. I now realize how offensive you two found it. You see, my heart and my fiery passion usually get in the way of my brain, and I don’t always say the right thing. This is quite frustrating for a poet as myself. Anyway, I am sorry.
Synthy: Save it for someone else, Herr ... Casanova. You haven't exactly won that match yet. Besides, my brother's already busted your arses a few times, and you don't even know who his partner is going to be. Why all the confidence?
Lexi: *She suddenly speaks up to Casimiro* You feel fiery? Shouldn't you get that checked out? =D
Synthy: *Smirk*
*Suddenly, Guillermo returns with the champagne and four glasses.*
Guillermo: Now, we toast to coming to an agreement on the match!
Synthy: ........ I'm straight edge.
Lexi: Last time I had a drink that was bubbly, I could taste butterfly breath mixed with rainbow gum drops with an after taste of mint. =D
Guillermo: What!? But, I want to make a toast! I mean, this isn’t fair!
*Guillermo almost breaks down and cries, but Casimiro turns him around whispers something to him. They have a small argument, but Casimiro calms Guillermo down. Then, they turn around.*
Casimiro: Look. Could you just please raise the glass up for a toast? You don’t have to drink it. Just hold it up and click yours with ours?
Synthy: I really don't see the point in toasting, actually. I'm not exactly celebrating being put up like a piñata.
Lexi: Maybe you two can toast each other! ^.^
Guillermo: BUT I WANT TO TOAST!!!! I WANT TO TOAST!!!! *non understandable grunting and fine* FINE! *throws champagne bottle, which explodes upon hitting the wall* Just tell your brother to be ready for the match!
*Guillermo runs off.*
Casimiro: Oh God! Now, I got to spend the rest of the night trying to calm him down! Thanks a lot!
*Casimiro runs off after Guillermo.*
Synthy: *She makes a slight smacking noise as she plays with her lip ring for a moment.* And Juri wonders why I don't hang with most of the boys?
Lexi: Doesn't he spend most of his nights with him anyway? Let's go Synny-sis....I suddenly want tacos! =)
*The WIG*Sphere fades out as the two women exist the not-so-love vibe of the Latin Lovers locker room.*
|
|
Coltrane
Opener
First Ever W*I*G* Champion
Posts: 29
|
Post by Coltrane on Feb 15, 2009 18:57:59 GMT -5
"I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be me I don't wanna be me anymo-ore..."*The familiar music of Type O Negative blares through the W*I*G-Sphere & the fans start booing as they know it signals the arrival of one man. Coltrane appears at the top of the stage, as usual, wearing his all-black ensemble. Coltrane opens his coat to reveal the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship still strapped around his waist. As improbable as it seems, this only causes the booing to increase. Coltrane continues to march on down to the ring, never acknowledging, nor even looking at the fans to either side of him.* Howard Finkel: Ladies & gentlemen, please welcome at this time, the Wrestling's Innovative Genesis World Heavyweight Champion... COLTRANE! *Coltrane also ignores the fink as he steps into the ring, his coat sweeping behind him. He takes the microphone from Finkel's hand as though Howard were a mic stand rather than a person. The Fink exits the ring & Coltrane makes a "Cut Throat" motion indicating that he wants his music to cease playing. He brings the microphone to his lips, but the boos of the crowd seem even louder now without the music. Coltrane insists on speaking over them anyway.* Coltrane: Well, it seems it happened again. It really doesn't matter does it. Take a look around at the top contenders here. Every man in W*I*G that has stepped up to challenge me has fallen. Sky Monix, THE MAXX AWESOME... ( Dramatic Pause), Jason Hereford, Andy Duke, Chaz Stone. Not one man in this company could stop me. Even going around the world to Japan, no man over there could stop me either as Hiro Yamada also fell to me. Even going to realms beyond what we can comprehend has yielded no results. Ferhago Crow, a man who defies human understanding was also vanquished by me... Now, who's left? There isn't a man alive that is worthy to even step in the ring against me. There is NO man who can take this title off me... *Coltrane's tirade is cut off as the lights in the W*I*G-Sphere drop slightly & turn to a shade of fuchsia. Then Otep's "Ghostflowers" begins to play & the crowd starts cheering wildly!* "And she's a killer And she's a keeper
Am I blurry In your vision? Was I just A poor decision? Cut me open With precision & we'll finger The incision Tell me what have I done Quid pro quo To watch you lose... CONTROL!"*Synthy Eris steps out, dressed in her trademark violet and black lavender leather pants, violet halter top, and has the leather vest loosely zipped halfway up her midriff. Her also trademark shades are pulled into her brighter then ever fuchsia hair. A half grin slinks over her vampish features as she sees Coltrane's reactant face.*
Synthy: Why, hallo. If I just heard you correctly, you think no man can take that Big, Beautiful Belt off of you, correct? Well... I've a proposition for you. Considering I'm of the fairer sex, maybe you think -I- could stand a chance?
*Here, her eyes flash, and she stands quite amused, a hand on her rounded hip.*
Synthy: Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm sure my co-females would love to have a chance to shove a wrestling boot down your throat, but they're all busy with this Tournament, or in my sister's case.. they've found candy or something sparkly. Luckily, chance on occasion, does love me. I'm no man, but trust me, I'm perfectly happy of that. So how about we have a bit of a challenge between us? In terms you can understand...I, Synthy Eris, am placing a challenge to you, Coltrane.Coltrane: Wait, let me understand this. You... YOU are challenging ME? You honestly think that a tiny little girl like you has a chance against the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion?! * Synthy stands at the top of the ramp & gives a slight shrug as if to say "Why Not?". Coltrane looks down for a moment & rubs his brow slightly. He looks back up to address Synthy again.* Coltrane: Okay... I'll tell you what. It's been well established how much I hate the flashy show-offs, the people who make wrestling nothing more than a corny sideshow, that's why Maxx Awesome has flipped his lid, it's why Ferhago Crow went slinking back to Davy Jones' Locker & it's why YOU will soon be added to my growing list of casualties. You seriously think a woman is capable of competing against a man? HA! You'll soon learn, Miss Eris, why you have made not only the most grievous error of your career, but quite possibly of your entire life! Synthy: I highly doubt you know who I am if you have to ask such a question. I make a past-time of beating up simpleton, chauvinistic pigs. As for 'weak, little girl'? Sorry man, I may be lighter then some of the chicks in the back, but I'm no pixie. I've probably faced tougher dudes then you back in the Indies. Coltrane: I highly doubt that. I could, again, rhyme of the list of casualties that I have left in my wake. I could tell you about the suffering you have let yourself in for. I could even run up that ramp & beat the hell out of you right now... But when you, as those before you, fall to your own move, you'll realize that all the bluster, all the talk, has been for naught. When you've been left broken & bleeding in the middle of the ring wondering why you sought to challenge me, I'll remind you of why your place in this sport is beneath that of the men. Synthy: "Broken and bleeding"? Is that a promise or a threat, Coltrane? As for my 'place' in the 'Sport of Men' maybe I think your place in the sport of wrestling is beneath the worms?Coltrane: Your challenge has been accepted, Miss Eris. I think you'll find that a greater courtesy than most other World Champions would be willing to grant you. I'm fully aware of the barbs on your otherwise sweet tongue; you may levy any insults you wish at me as you prepare to face me, keeping in mind the men I have toppled before. In the end, when I force you to eat those words, it will make my inevitable victory just that much better. Your female opponents may get rattled by "bitchy" comments, but I believe you'll find that I am above such petty nonsense. Like those who paved the way for us to stand here today, I prefer to let my actual talent & ability in the ring do the talking on my behalf. Synthy: And that's the best thing I believe I've ever heard pop out of that mouth of your's. Pretty speech proves nothing. Here's a warning that I'm sure will go unheeded by you though- don't underestimate me. If ya do, you're sure to get your ass handed to you. Then you'll complain I caught you off guard blah, blah, blah, etcetera, etcetera *Here she waves her hand in a flippant manner* ...... so just don't. Because I want to beat you fair and square, got it, love?Coltrane: I wouldn't have it any other way. But I gave you fair warning, Miss Eris; you have brought this on yourself. *"I Don't Wanna Be Me" kicks in again. Coltrane & Synthy fix steely glares on eachother as the music plays. Coltrane unstraps his title belt & holds it aloft for the audience (& Synthy herself) to look upon. A sickening smug smirk crosses his face. Synthy rolls her neck & presses her hands together, clearly eager to make Coltrane eat his words. Coltrane looks up at her & mouths the word "soon". Synthy nods, understanding... & we cut to the next scene.*
|
|
|
Post by The Hardcore Disciple on Feb 17, 2009 0:01:37 GMT -5
*John Cena is backstage, looking hesitant about the recent lack of activity on his end of things. However, he seems excited about being in front of a camera again after such a while away.*
Cena: John Cena here, and while I've never gone 12 Rounds in New Orleans, I did go to Mardi Gras there during my junior year of college. Not much action here in W*I*G lately, but the Colvin Cup pushes closer to the second round. Meanwhile, the W*I*G World Champion Coltrane is getting antsy for a challenger, going to far as to brutally assault Mr. Colvin in his own office! His antics seem to have drawn a challenger out of the locker room, but is he ready for Synthiy Eris? This, and the W*I*G roster continues to grow with the entrance of Team Raft Shack, among scores of others. What impact will they have on the tag team divi--wha??
*Out of nowhere, a large roll of plaid-patterened felt canvas pokes into the screen, eclipsing Cena's face. The roll moves across the screen quickly, propelled by its holder and apparent owner, who also towers over Cena. As the fabric leaves the scene, we see a bewildered interviewer blinking in the aftermath.*
Cena: ...Okay, I HAVE to know.
*He walks after the moving carpet. All we see of its carrier is that he's tall and wearing a kilt of roughly the same pattern as the roll he's holding, but that's a big hint these days, isn't it? The towering redhead plops the area rug on top of a large blue cart of random paraphernalia. In white paint on the side of the cart are the words "Property of Chaz Stone," but it looks as though it may have once said something else--a rough glance tells us that it might have once borne the legend "Drexel University." With Chaz is his now-constant companion, holding a clipboard and pushing the cart.*
Chaz: A'righ', an' tha shoul' be th' balance o' it. Cena: Hey, Chaz, the people and I have to know--what's with all this stuff? Chaz: Ach! Lad, dun sneak up like tha'! Cena: Sorry... Chaz: It's a'righ'. But nay, lad, me 'n' th' lass are gettin' ready fer our big debut! Cena: ...Chaz, you've been with the company since last August. Chaz: *Dismissively waving his hand.* Ach, nay, ye wee twit. This debut is fer mah new big innerview show: Stone's Quarry! Cena: Whoa, what? You're giving W*I*G its first true in-ring talk show? Chaz: In th' tradition of Roddy Piper an' Chris Jericho, aye. It'' be grea'--grea' banter, musical guests, th' occasional t'rodown--heck, Ah coul' prolly be on key wit' Craig Ferguson fer this. Lass, kin Ah see th' lis'? Lana: Sho thang. *she hands him the clipboard* Chaz: A'righ', lessee 'ere. Mat carpe'? Lana: *pats the roll* Check. Chaz: Sain' Andrew's Cross? Lana: *rummages in the cart* Got it. Chaz: Chairs? Lana: Plenny enough. Chaz: Stan' up halogen lamp? Lana: Ain't dat a smidge of ovahkill? Chaz: Overkill's grea', iffen ye do id righ'. Lana: I...*shakes her head* Ennyways. Chaz: Fine quality desk? Lana: Colvin donated somet'in from IKEA...*looks hesitant* Chaz: ...Haff ta make do... Cena: This is an incredible scoop! When is this show going live? Chaz: Soon as possible, lad. Cena: Can you give us an exclusive on who your first guest will be?
*Chaz and Lana stop dead in their tracks. Lana flips frantically through the sheaf of papers on the clip board whilst Chaz ponders.*
Lana: Ah tol' you we fo'got somet'in! Chaz: Aw, fack! We gotta fin' someone, an' fas'! *begins pushing the cart quickly* Le's go, lass!
*Lana sighs and runs after him. Now poor John is even more dumbfounded than before. He can only shrug, look at the camera, and say one thing...*
Cena: We'll be right back.
|
|
|
Post by Paul's Boutique on Feb 19, 2009 23:59:49 GMT -5
*We open on the beginning of Beastie Boys’ “Shake Your Rump.” Three men are walking down a sidewalk in New York, being filmed with a fish bowl lens. One is wearing a nice suit and shoes; one is wearing a button and collar shirt, khakis, and shoes; and one is wearing a leather coat, white T-shirt, baggy jeans, and sneakers. They come up to a man wearing a cap, and suddenly, one of the three men slaps the hat off.* *Cut to the three men dancing in a club* Know how to rock a house party at the drop of a hat yeah *Cut to the three men skateboarding in Central Park* I beat a biter down with an aluminum bat *Cut to the man in the suit rapping on a stage with a microphone in his hand* A lot of people they be Jonesin' just to hear me rock the mic *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans walking down the sidewalk with a boom box on his shoulder* They'll be staring at the radio staying up all night *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis hitting on a girl in a bar* So like a pimp I'm pimpin' *Cut to all three men on a boat eating shrimp* I got a boat to eat shrimp in *Cut to all three men limping down the sidewalk* Nothin' wrong with my leg I'm just B-boy limpin' *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis getting arrested in New Orleans* Got arrested at the Mardi Gras for jumping on a float *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans stroking his beard* My man MCA's got a beard like a billy goat *Cut to the man in the suit dancing with a girl in a club* Oowah, oowah is my disco call *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans jumping rope with some kids in a playground* MCA hu-huh I'm gettin' rope y'all *Cut to the man in the suit writing in a diner* Routines I bust and the rhymes that I write *Cut to the man in the suit rapping in a club* And I'll be busting routines and rhymes all night *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans eating chicken at a KFC* Like eating burgers or chicken or you'll be picking your nose *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis holding his watch up to the camera* I'm on time homie that's how it goes *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis walking up to a girl in the street, grabbing her by her head, and making out with her* You heard my style I think you missed the point *Cut to all three men sitting on a park bench* It's the joint *We cut to the men breaking dancing in slow motion in front of a store called “Paul’s Boutique.” The man in the suit is doing the robot. The man in the coat and jeans is doing the worm. And, the man in the shirt and khakis runs up to the wall, walks up it, flips over and lands on his feet. Then, he jumps of and does a jump kick in the air.* *Cut to the man in the suit doing the running man on a street corner* Mike D with your bad self running things *Cut to the man in the suit eating onion rings in a diner* What's up with your bad breath onion rings? *Cut to the man in the suit crawling out of a dug grave in a cemetery with some people yelling at him* I'm Mike D and I'm back from the dead *Cut to the man in the suit chilling with some girls on a beach* Chillin' at the beach down at Club Med *Cut to the man in the suit putting a record on a record player* Make another record 'cause the people they want more of this *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis ducking a punch from some guy and then punching him* Suckers they be saying they can take out Adam Horovitz *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis drinking a beer in a bar* Hurricane you got clout *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis playing a turntable on a stage* Other DJ's he'll take your head out *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis playing with a marionette* A puppet on a string I'm paid to sing or rhyme *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis making out with a girl in a booth in a club* Or do my thing I'm *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis looking at the camera through a lava lamp* In a lava lamp inside the brain hotel *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans dancing in a club* I might be peakin' or freakin' I'm known to rock well *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans dancing the tango with a girl* The Patty Duke the wrench and then I bust the tango *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans holding up the Jamaican flag and wearing a mango Kangol* Got more rhymes than Jamaica got Mango Kangols *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans sitting next to a man with an artificial leg; he pulls it off and shows his stump to the camera.* I got the peg leg at the end of my stump *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans standing next to a woman gyrating her butt in front of the camera* Shake your rump *We cut back to all three men breaking dancing in slow motion in front of a store called “Paul’s Boutique,” with the man in the suit on the left, the man in the shirt and khakis in the center, and the man in the coat and jeans on the right. They are holding hands and soon move their arms up and down in a wave. They soon move apart from each other. The man in the shirt and khakis suddenly does a handstand. The other two men then spin him around on his head. They move away and start doing the robot. Then, the man in the shirt and khakis picks up speed. He soon moves down onto his back but keeps spinning, now on his back. Then, he spins to a stop on his side. He then rolls onto his back, kips up, and does another jump kick while the other two men high five each other. *Cut to all three men jumping up and down in Central Park* Full clout y'all, full clout y'all *Cut to all three men rapping on stage with mics in their hands* And when the mic is in my mouth I turn it out y'all *Cut to all three men making out with some girls in a club* Never been dumped 'cause I'm the most mackinest *Cut to a man pulling out a knife on all three men; the man in the suit punches him, and the other two men jump on top of the guy as he falls to the ground* Never been jumped 'cause I'm known the most packinest *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans in a grocery store holding up a wrapped T-bone steak* Yeah we've got beef chief *Cut back to the men beating up the man who pulled out a knife on them* We're knocking out teeth chief *Cut to the man in the suit talking to a priest* And if you don't believe us you should question your belief chief *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis handing a long pepperoni sausage to a women in a grocery store* Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans holding up his bare feet to the camera* Like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet *Cut to the man in the suit about to take a sip of beer but throws it up against a wall instead* Should I have another sip no skip it? *Cut to all three men dancing in the back of a taxi* In the back of the ride and bust with the whippet *Cut to the man in the suit and the man in the shirt and khakis faux-boxing each other* Rope a dope dookies all around the neck *Whoo ha I got them all in check* *Cut to the man in the suit running from a cop, a reporter, and his mom* Running from the law the press and the parents *Cut to the man in the suit talking to a cop* *Is your name Michael Diamond?* No mine's Clarence *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans point to a map in a New York subway* From downtown Manhattan the village *Cut to the man in the suit standing in front of a lion cage at a zoo* My style is wild and you know that it still is *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis dancing under a disco ball in a club* Disco bag schlepping and you're doing the bump *Cut back to the man in the coat and jeans standing next to a woman gyrating her butt in front of the camera* Shake your rump *Cut to all three men in a grocery store; they each grab some fruit from a fruit stand: the man in the suit a lemon, the man in the shirt and khakis an apple, and the man in the coat and jeans an orange; suddenly, the lemons, apples, and oranges fall down to the ground because the men pulled one piece out. They freak out and run off as a stock boy chases after them.* Oooooohhhh! *Cut to the man in the suit rapping on a stage in a club; the scene freezes as he hold the microphone to the audience and the words “Johnny Ryall” pop up on the screen.* *Cut to the man in the shirt and khakis dancing in a club; the scene freezes as he slaps a woman on the butt and the words “Egg Man” pop up on the screen.* *Cut to the man in the coat and jeans standing next to a woman gyrating her butt next to his head; the scene freezes as he points to the woman’s butt and the words “High Plains Drifter” pop up on the screen.* *The song stops, and we cut back to the store the men were dancing in front of: Paul’s Boutique. Then, this voice over begins.* The best in men's clothing. Call Paul’s Boutique; ask for Janice. The number is ah (718) 498-1043 That's Paul’s Boutique, and they're in Brooklyn...
|
|
|
Post by SsnakeBite, the No1 Frenchman on Feb 22, 2009 17:14:25 GMT -5
|
|
|
Post by L. Rey on Feb 22, 2009 18:04:29 GMT -5
Howard Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. *L. Rey’s music plays.* www.youtube.com/watch?v=QoQdLJt--kEFinkel: Introducing first, coming down the aisle, at 5 feet 9 inches, weighing at 202 pounds, from Amarillo, Texas—L. REY. *L. Rey comes out to a big pop. He’s wearing a black leather coat, green cargo pans, and black boots. He’s also carrying his guitar. He runs down to the ring and slides into it. L. Rey jumps up on the second turnbuckle of a corner facing the W*I*Gscreen and points the neck of his guitar toward it. Then, he moves the guitar back and forth as pyro goes off in rapid succession, like a machine gun. Then, he jumps off the turnbuckle. L. Rey takes off his coat and hands it and his guitar to the referee, who hands them to the timekeeper.* Tom Bailey: Welcome back to W*I*G Vindication. And, we are about to witness L. Rey’s first match back since he was attacked at W*I*G Gives Thanks. Unfortunately, he has a task ahead of him as he will be facing Samoa Joe. Jeannie Lawless: I hope L. Rey will be okay. I don’t think I can take another month or so without my little jalapeño. Tom: Me too. I don’t think I can take another month or so of you complaining about L. Rey being out. *Samoa Joe’s music plays.* www.youtube.com/watch?v=1yTA_cgKIPY Finkel: And, his opponent, coming down the aisle, at 6 feet 2 inches, weighing in at 290 pounds, from the Isle Of Samoa—SAMOA JOE. *Samoa Joe’s music continues to play for a few minutes, but Joe doesn’t come out. Suddenly, TNT runs out from the audience in his street clothes (black Western-style button-and-collar shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots). He also has a big noseguard over his face. He jumps over the guardrail, slides into the ring, charges at L. Rey and hits him with an elbow smash to the back of his head. The crowd boos mercilessly. TNT then grabs the microphone from Finkel, who quickly exits the ring. L. Rey gets up, but TNT suddenly hits him with a bicycle kick.* Tom: Sweet Mama Juana From Little Havana! Toby Nicholas Tucker has attacked L. Rey from behind! Jeannie: Well, we don’t have to worry about how L. Rey is going to handle Samoa Joe. Though, now we have to worry how he’s going to handle TNT. Tom: What is the meaning of this!? Jeannie: We’re about to find out! TNT has the mic. TNT: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news; but I’m afraid that Mr. Samoa Joe ain’t gonna be here tonight. I know, I know! I’m upset about it to, but apparently some whippersnapper gave Joe bad directions. Anyway, he ain’t gonna be, but never fear for I am here! That’s right, babies! Despite my injury, I’m gonna be takin’ Joe’s place! *to the timekeeper* So, ring that bell, motherhumper!!!! *The bell rings.* Tom: I don’t believe this! We’re gonna see TNT and L. Rey right here, right now, for free!!!! Jeannie: Oh my God!!!! This is a dream come true! You know what this mean! Tom: We’re about to see a good match! Jeannie: Not only that but the winner is going to sweep me off my feet and make love to me for hours. *TNT throws down the microphone. He waits for L. Rey to get up. He does, and TNT charges at L. Rey and kicks him in the stomach. L. Rey doubles over, and TNT grabs him going for an Explosion Bomb (straight jacket hold lifted and dropped into a sitout powerbomb). However, when TNT picks him up, L. Rey manages to slip out of the hold, jumps over TNT’s head, and flips TNT over to the mat with a sunset flip powerbomb. He holds for a three count.* Ref: 1…2…3! *The bell rings, the crowd pops loudly, and L. Rey’s music plays. L. Rey quickly exits the ring, and TNT just yells out in anger.* Finkel: Here is your winner—L. REY. Tom: I don’t believe it! L. Rey just beat TNT! Jeannie: Holy crap! That lasted barely a minute! Damn! I was hoping for a long match. Oh well, time for some L. Rey lovin’. Tom: Sit down! Jeannie: Why must you crush my dreams!? *The referee exits the ring and holds up L. Rey’s arm in victory. Suddenly, Tracy Jones, Nicole Michaels, and Talia Bell rush down to the ring in their street clothes. They attack L. Rey from behind and throw him into the ring, and TNT immediately pounces on him with several stomps. The cheers soon turn to boos.* Tom: Not again! Here we go with another typical TNT beat down! Jeannie: This may be the worst one yet! I mean, he tried to catch L. Rey off guard and ended up beaten in a matter of seconds! This is going to be very bad! *The girls enter the ring and join in on TNT’s barrage of stomps. Then, TNT tells the girls to pick him up onto his knees. They do while TNT unbuttons his shirt and pulls out that horseshoe on the string necklace around his neck. Suddenly, James “Magnum” Constance rushes down to the ring and punches TNT in the nose.* Tom: Thank God! James “Magnum” Constance has come to L. Rey’s rescue! Jeannie: Man, Magnum is always in the right place at the right time. *Suddenly, Tracy charges at Magnum and jumps onto his back. Magnum swings her around, trying to get her off of him; he ends up hitting TNT in the face with Tracy’s legs. Talia charges at Magnum, but he flips Tracy over, causing her to hit Talia as she rushes toward them. Then, Nicole jumps onto Magnum and kisses him, distracting him.* Tom: It looks like beauty has tamed the beast. Jeannie: What the hell!? Why does this woman insist on kissing Magnum? *pause* Wait, I just answered my own question. *L. Rey exits the ring as Magnum and Nicole. TNT gets up and takes advantage of Nicole’s distraction by hitting Magnum with an elbow shot to Magnum’s knee. Magnum falls to the mat and Nicole stops kissing him. She moves around and grabs Magnum’s arm so TNT can attack him. However, L. Rey reenters the ring with his guitar. He swings it and smashes it over TNT’s head, sending him to the mat.* Tom: Timber! L. Rey has now come to Magnum’s rescue with a guitar to TNT’s head. Jeannie: That can’t be good for TNT’s nose. *Nicole lets go of Magnum and charges at L. Rey. However, L. Rey just sidesteps her and sends her flying over the top rope. Soon, Talia and Tracy get up. L. Rey grabs Tracy and throws her out of the ring. Magnum picks up Talia in a military press and walks over to the ropes. He waits for Tracy and Nicole to get up. They do, and Magnum throws Talia out of the ring; she lands on top of Tracy and Nicole.* Tom: And, there go the ladies! TNT is all by himself with L. Rey and Magnum! Jeannie: Be gentle on him guys. *Magnum and L. Rey turn their attention to TNT. They do some conversing, and then Magnum walks over to TNT. He picks TNT up, pulls the guitar off of his head, bends him over, and holds him. Then, L. Rey runs to the opposite ropes, hits them, bounces off of them, and charges at TNT. Magnum lets go of him, and L. Rey flips over TNT and hits him with an Unprettier. TNT soon writhes on the mat, holding his nose.* Tom: El Angel De Muerte to TNT! Jeannie: At least he had the nose guard on. *TNT continues to writhe on the mat. Magnum and L. Rey wait for TNT to get up. However, the girls have gotten up first and pull TNT out of the ring. The crowd boos this. Tracy and Talia check on TNT while Nicole grabs a microphone. She hands it to TNT.* TNT: Goddammit!!!! What is wrong with y’all!? First, you *pointing to Magnum* break it, and then you *pointing to L. Rey* make it worse! *pointing to the noseguard* I have to wear this ugly thang for God knows how long! Man, I may never be pretty again because of y’all! Y’all have infuriated, irritated, agitated, and exasperated me to the breakin’ point! I’ve had it up ta here *making a line with his hand over his head* with you two motherhumpers!!!! So, I’m gonna proposition y’all now! *The audience laughs.* TNT: Not like that, y’all perverts! I know I’m so sexy, but I only bat for one team! Anywho, I want you two in a match! A handicap match—TNT VS James “Magnum” Constance and L. Rey! *The audience cheers.* TNT: So, whadaya say, motherhumpers!? *L. Rey and Magnum walk up the ropes. L. Rey asks for the microphone, and TNT throws it at him. He captures it.* L. Rey: Sure. We accept. *The audience pops loudly. Suddenly, L. Rey throws the microphone at TNT, hitting him in the nose. TNT screams in pain, and soon he and his girls walk off.* Tom: Well, it looks like we have another match for 28 Days Later! Jeannie: I don’t understand. Why would a man with a broken nose want to wrestle two men in a handicap match. Tom: Maybe TNT’s anger has made him really brave. Jeannie: I doubt it. TNT must have something up his sleeve. *Cut to commercial.*
|
|
|
Post by Gigantor Maximus on Feb 24, 2009 15:31:02 GMT -5
* "China White" by The Scorpions begins playing & the W*I*G-Screen goes black as white letters followed by black & white images flash across it...* Wrestling's Innovative Genesis!
The giant craves a challenge! * We see Gigantor's fuzzy booted feet stomping across dusty ground.* But no mere man shall do! * We see the chain rattling in Gigantor's hands.* At "28 Days Later"...
Send forth your biggest giant...
That I may slay him as I have all the others who sought to oppose me! * Brief images of Gigantor's past opponents such as Mr. Big, Jack Jupiter & Coltrane flash across the screen* For even the largest man in W*I*G is no match for...
GIGANTOR MAXIMUS!
|
|