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Post by The Dancin' Johannsons! on Apr 3, 2009 16:51:39 GMT -5
(Spyke and Crash are shown in their locker room still recovering from their match)
Spyke: It sure does feel good winning again.
Crash: Not to mention winning as a team.
Spyke: I know right. Tasting victory tonight was like... it was like...
Crash: Getting the high score on DDR?
Spyke: No. It was like...
Crash: When your head gets all tingly when a good song comes on?
Spyke: No. It was more like...
Crash: The first time you tasted a slurpee?
Spyke: No! Shut it! It's indescribable!
Crash: Ahh, right. That old cliché.
Spyke: Fine. Could you describe it then?
Crash: No.
Spyke: Well why not?
Crash: Eh. Dun wanna.
Spyke: “Dun wanna?”
Crash: Yes. Dun wanna.
Spyke: “Dun wanna” sounds like a Mexican-Jamaican ladies man.
Crash: *bad Jamaican accent* Dun Wanna be comin' to steal yo' white wimmin and cervezas! Arriba! Lordhavemercy!
Spyke: *facepalm*
Crash: Oh! I'd like to see you do a better impression of a Mexican-Jamiacan ladies man!
Spyke: No, that's not what I have an issue with it's what you... You know what? Nevermind. If we dwell on it too long, we'll forget about the important things.
Crash: Like Rachael Leigh Cook jumping the guard rail and saving your ass from getting annihilated by a Paul London chairshot?
Spyke: Yeah! Like Rachael Leigh Cook jumping the guard rail and saving my ass from getting annihilated by a Paul London chair shot! ...wait, what?
Crash: *sits in a chair, flips on the TV to Bugs Bunny cartoons and opens a bag of cookies* Yeah, she jumped the guard rail and nearly broke London's nose with a roaring elbow. *stuffs a handful cookies in his mouth* HAAAAA! Bugsh Bunny izsh HILARIOUSH!
Spyke: What is Rachael doing here? I thought she retired from wrestling.
Crash: Well, Ric Flair is retired, but he still did that thing with Jericho on RAW last week.
Spyke: Did she sign a contract or something?
Crash: Nope.
Spyke: Well then, hopefully she doesn't get into too much trouble over this. Would hate to see her get arrested over something as stupid as jumping the guard rail. Well, hopefully this is just an isolated incident! Crashery! WE HAVE WORK TO DO!
Crash: Awww. Dun wanna! I wanna watch cartoons!
Spyke: CRASH!
Crash: SPYKE!
Spyke: CRAAAASH!
Crash: FIIIIIIIINE! Maaaaaaan! *turns off TV*
Spyke: We have to ask about getting some matches with the talent on the full-time W*I*G roster.
Crash: Can I bring the cookies with me?
Spyke: You're going on a diet starting tomorrow.
Crash: …
Spyke: What?
Crash: ...so I can bring them with me?
Spyke: OUT! THE! DOOR! NOW!
*Crash hangs his head and walks out the locker room door*
Spyke: *sighs* Boy ain't right.
*Fade to something or other.*
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The White Boys
Opener
First Ever WIG Tag Team Champions
Rammer Jammer, Yellowhammer, give 'em hell, Alabama!
Posts: 36
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Post by The White Boys on Apr 4, 2009 22:04:55 GMT -5
*We open on the W*I*Gsphere. In the ring is a podium painted up like the Confederate flag. Suddenly, the White Boys’ music plays. www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHsDa9_HSlA The White Boys come out the boos of the crowd. They are both wearing nice black suits with white shirts, red ties, and nice black shoes, quite unusual for the White Boys. Justin isn’t even carrying his Confederate guitar. They also have the W*I*G World Tag Team Titles around their waists, and Jason is holding several sheets of paper. They walk down to the ring and enter it. Jason and Justin walk over to the podium. Jason places the papers on the podium and then adjusts the microphone to his mouth. The music stops, and Jason starts speaking.* Jason White: Hello, ladies an’ gentlemen. I’ma Jason White, an’ this is mah brother Justin. Now, obviously, y’all are wonderin’ what this podium is doin’ in the ring. Well, there is a lot of controversy surroundin’ me an’ mah brother. An’, we would like to address this. That is why we’re fixin’ to give our State Of The Confederacy Address!!!! *The crowd boos. Justin leans into the microphone.* Justin White: Why State Of The Confederacy? Well, State Of The Union was takin’! *leans back* Jason: Thanks fer explain’ that. Anyway, we’re gonna explain our actions as of late an’ give our thoughts on da fans an’ whatnot. So, let’s git started. *Jason pulls a pair of glasses from the coat pocket and puts them on his head. Then, he starts reading his speech.* Jason: First of all, I want to begin with an important announcement about the W*I*G Tag Team Titles. As y’all may know from watchin’ the W*I*G/TigerPath Supershow, The Beginnin’ of The En’, me an’ mah brother Justin successfully defended our titles against Koshinryo an’ Shuga. This title defense took place in Tokee-yo, Japan. Because of this, we are no longer the W*I*G Tag Team Champions. *The crowd cheers loudly.* Jason: *confused* Thank ya. Anyway, we are now the W*I*G WORLD Tag Team Champions. *The crowd boos.* Jason: *looking up* Wait! Did y’all thank that we got stripped of our titles!? *Jason and Justin burst into laughter. They laugh for a good minute.* Jason: Good God y’all are stupid!!!! Why would we lose our titles if we SUCCESSFULLY DEFENDED THEM!!!!? *looks back down at his papers* Now, that we are the W*I*G World Tag Team Champions, that mean we need ta take our championship status a little more seriouslay. Ya see, our W*I*G World Tag Team Title reign has lasted about roughly one hundred an’ eighty-eight days. Now, fer a good portion of that reign, we didn’t defen’ our titles. In fact, me an’ mah brother were on vacation fer them days. An’, apparently, that didn’t make a lot of people happy. The tag teams in W*I*G were upset. The fans were upset. Hell, our own momma was upset. People were callin’ fer our titles to be stripped. They wanted us to get fired. People online called us crowds, degenerates, assholes, an’ a lot of other thangs that my good Christian prevents me from sayin’ in private let alone in public. They said that we only defended our titles against a bunch of girls. They called us the worst W*I*G Tag Team Champions in the short history of Rasslin’s Innovative Genesis. Now, we’ve done heard the criticism. We’ve done read the flames online. We’ve done heard the sneers an’ challenges from our peers in da back. We’ve done heard everythang y’all’ve been sayin’. An’ now, it’s time to address them. Y’all all deserve an explination. In fact, y’all all deserve somethin’ more than an explination—an apology. Well, to all y’all out there— *There is a long pause.* Jason: Y’all can kiss White asses!!!! *The crowd boos.* Jason: We ain’t gonna apologize fer shit!!!! Now, yes, we shouldn’t have been vacationing instead of rasslin’. We realize this now. Howeva, we are the W*I*G World Tag Team Champions. We make the decisions about these darn belts! If we don’t feel like defendin’ these belts, then we won’t!!!! Plus, we aren’t the only ones who have been awol. At the pay-per-view from two months back, 28 Days Later, a match was advertised—the Latin Lovers versus Tristan Hades an’ a mystery partner. Did it take place at said pay-per-view!? NO!!!! It happened as the pay-per-view we done had—March 29th. An’, I should mention that the Lovers an’ Tristan didn’t appear on W*I*G Vindication in between them pay-per-views. Also, where the hell have James Bon Jovi an’ The Maxx been doin’. They keep sayin’ that they’re gonna become the W*I*G World Tag Team Champions. An’, do they go out an’ rassle each week ta prove it!? HELL NAW!!!! They keep makin’ their little Internet videos about poopin’ an’ Rick Astley or whatever’s popular on the Internet these days. Justin: *leaning into the microphone* Poopin’!? Rick Astley!? Dude, get wit da times! Ya make us sound stupid an’ out of date! Jason: Why!? This decade sucks! Justin: You thank everythang sucks! Jason: Shut up! *Justin leans back, and Jason continues reading.* Jason: Anyway, they haven’t been rasslin’! They’ve been makin’ homophobic comments ta the Latin Lovers. An’, the Latin Lovers have been makin’ homophobic comments right back to ‘em! Now, I thought this was a rasslin’ company! Not a “Let’s call everybody gay!” company! Am I wrong!? Justin: *leaning back into the mic* No, yer not. *leans back* Jason: Thank ya, Justin! Has Team Ireland done anythang? Has Team Raft Shack done anythang? No! If they ain’t doin’ shit, then why should we be doin’ shit!? That’s why we gave our W*I*G World Tag Team Title shot to that dern new team Paul’s Boutique! They actually did somethin’—hyped themselves us for a big introduction ta W*I*G, an’ we decided ta help ‘em out. I mean, what better way to debut inta W*I*G with a W*I*G World Tag Team Title shot? An’, them Yankees were pretty good competitors. Not good enough to beat us of course, but good enough to give us a challenge. An’, who knows? Maybe…just maybe…they’ll…God forbid, knock on wood *knocks on the podium*…they’ll actually beat us. *The crowd boos. Jason flips through his papers. Then, he stops and continues with his speech.* Jason: Now, a lot of y’all didn’t like the competitors we’ve been defendin’ our titles against. Now, I addressed Paul’s Boutique. So, I move on ta Koshinryo an’ Shuga. A lot of people were angry at us for defendin’ our titles against two women. A lot of people apparently thank that we are a bunch of cowards an’ bullies for beatin’ up on them girls. Really? Well, I haven’t heard anyone call Mr. Coltrane a bully. After all, he’s the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion, an’ he done defended his title against a woman, a Ms. Synthy Eris. Now, how come we get called the cowards while Mr. Coltrane don’t? Well, the answer is quite clear!? Y’ALL ARE A BUNCH OF HYPOCRITES!!!! *The crowd boos.* Jason: Don’t boo us! Boo yerselves! Y’all say that we can’t rassle two women, but Mr. Coltrane can. That’s hypocrisy. It’s also sexism. Ya see, y’all done said that those weren’t tough enough, that we were too brutal an’ violent fer them, that Koshinryo an’ Shuga couldn’t handle it! Well, y’all are wrong! Sure, we beat ‘em three times, but those women were the toughest rasslers we’ve ever faced in our lives! An’, we done rassled a guy who once rassled in a 60-minute match with thumbtacks in his back!!!! True story—I swear ta God we did! So, fer y’all to say that Koshinryo an’ Shuga ta say that they aren’t tough ta fight us is sexism, plain an’ simple. *The crowd boos.* Jason: I said “Don’t boo us! Boo yerselves!” What!? Ya don’t like that me an’ mah brother are the enlightened ones! It would be so much easier fer y’all if we were the sexists, the racists, the bigots, the lightnin’ rods of hate! Well, we aren’t! All Southerners are bigots! We can be tolerant an’ understandin’. Me an’ mah brother, we’ve never denied anyone anythang they wanted from us simply because they weren’t white, or they didn’t have a penis, or they weren’t a Christian, or they weren’t sexually attracted ta people of the opposite sex! We’re da progressive ones!!!! Now, I know it seems a little hypocritical ta say that we’re progressive an’ have a “State Of The Confederacy Address” on a podium painted up in the Confederate flag. We know we’re bein’ progressive an’ tolerant while bringin’ up thangs that have become symbols fer a horrible chapter in our nation’s history, slavery, an’ symbols fer racism. Well, “Do I contradict myself?/Very well then I contradict myself,/(I am large, I contain multitudes.)”—Walt Whitman, Leaves Of Grass, 1851. That’s right! I done quoted Walt Whitman! Suck on that!!!! *The crowd boos.* Jason: Ya see, we wear this flag on our tights occasionally not because we’re racist, but because we have pride in our Southern heritage. Plus, it is a reminder ta us of a horrible time in our nation’s history. It is a reminder that we should never ferget what happened because those who ferget the past our doomed to repeat it! *The crowd boos.* Jason: Can ya believe it, Jason? I’ma sayin’ educated thangs, an’ they’re booin’? Justin: *leaning into the microphone* An’, they call us Southerners ignorant an’ stupid. *leans back* *Jason flips through his papers. Then, he stops and continues with his speech. Jason: Now, ta all those people online complain’ about us. We get flamed all da time. An’, by who!? A bunch of fat losers who’ve never been in a fight in their lives! Who the fuck are these people to criticize us!? They sit at home in their comfortable air-conditioned homes, in their comfortable chairs, drankin’ sodas an’ whatnot, eatin’ chips an’ pretzels, an’ then they go online an’ complain about us! They bitch an’ moan about me an’ mah brother while we’re gittin’ slammed onta a hard rasslin’ mat, onta concrete an’ steel, onta a hard wooden coffin! They have the gall ta call us soft, ta say that we ain’t tough while da hardest thang they done ever had ta do is stop suckin’ on their mother’s teet! Well, these people can go fuck themselves!!!! That’s right!!!! I said GO FUCK YERSELVES!!!! *The crowd boos.* Jason: Now, there is one thang all our critics have been right about—we’ve not been defendin’ our titles. Well, that has done changed. An’ now, I wanna do somethin’ ironic an’ hypocritical—thank ya. Yes, that’s right! I done thanked everyone of the people who’ve been complainin’ about how our actions, or nonactions, lately. Well, they deserve it. Thank ya W*I*G rasslers who’ve been complainin’ about us doin’ nothin’ while y’all doin’ nothin’ as well. Thank ya sexist fans for complainin’ about us rasslin’ women. Thank ya online fans who need ta shut the fuck up about us bein’ soft when y’all ain’t never been in a fight y’allselves. Thank y’all all because y’all have done somethang remarkable—y’all have reignite our passion fer rasslin’. Me an’ mah brother have never been more excited an’ pumped up about being rasslers in our lives! An’, that is what we’re gonna do! We’re gonna rassle! We’re gonna defend our titles as often as we can! We ain’t gonna miss pay-per-views! We ain’t gonna no show for W*I*G Vindication matches! We are gonna answer any challenge! We are gonna be the best damn tag team in this darn company! We are gonna hold on ta our W*I*G World Tag Team Titles fer as long as we can—just ta piss y’all the fuck off!!!! *The crowd boos.* Jason: Y’all hate us! Y’all wanna see us lose our titles! Y’all wanna see us fired! But, that ain’t gonna happen! We’re gonna be the best around! An’, we’re gonna do it because y’all hate it!!! Ya see, we love that y’all hate us! It’s empowerin’. Y’all’s boos are like steroids to us! Me an’ mah brother get charged up by! Yer criticism fills us a white light of hate and distain that we unleash on our opponents! Yer hate gives us the strength and energy ta beat our opponents! An’, we’re gonna hold on ta these titles so that y’all will keep on hatin’ us and keep on energizin’ us!!!! The longer we’re champions, the angrier y’all get, and the happier we’ll be!!!! Nothing and no one will take theses titles from us!!!! We will do everythang to hold on to these titles!!!! Even if we have to bitchslaps God herself, we will be the W*I*G World Tag Team Champions!!!! AND, THERE IS NOTHING YOU LOWDOWN, MANGY, GOOD FER NOTHIN’, STUPID, IGNORANT, FOUL-MOUTHED, DOG LICKIN’, CHAIR HUMPIN’, ASS SNIFFIN’, PISS DRINKIN’, BUG EATIN’, SHIT FER BRAINS, MOTHERFUCKIN’ SONS OF BITCHES CAN DO ABOUT IT!!!! HALLELUJAH!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!! WHERE’S THE TYLENOL!!!! *The crowd boos. Jason folds up his speech, takes off his glass, and puts them in his coat pocket. Then, he and Justin shake hands and hug. The White Boys are about to leave when suddenly W*I*G General Managers Reynaldo Fernandez and Jett Ripley come out, both holding microphones. Fernandez is wearing an olive drab colored-military uniform with dress pants, a buttoned coat, black shoes, a red beret, and numerous medals that adorn the breast of his coat, with patches on the sides of the shoulders. Ripley is wearing an open red blazer jacket, with various t-shirts worn underneath, beige khaki pants, and a pair of plain white athletic shoes. They walk down to the ring and enter it. Jason grabs the microphone from the podium.* Jason: Well, well, well…if it ain’t our illustrious general managers—Reynaldo Fernandez and Jett Ripley! I’m glad y’all are here. So, what did y’all thank of our State Of The Confederacy Address? *Jett simply folds his arms and looks into the ring, a rather unamused look on his face. He reaches up to brush back his hair slightly, then giving a quick glance to his co-gm and nods. He then brings his microphone up to his lips and begins to speak.* Jett: Well, I'll give you boys this. You certainly are a very passionate duo. Too bad your address is lacking ONE little detail. You aren't the ones booking matches around these parts. No, you see that's my and the general's jobs here. And before we showed up, it was one James E Colvin's line of duty. The three of us, we put together the cards, we set up the matches, and we confirm and approve of each and every one. *Reynaldo nods his head, lifting an eyebrow and putting his micrphone near his mouth.* Reynaldo: My contemporary is in fact correct. You two roughneck, backwoods yokels have no right to be speaking to all of us as if you are on a pedestal above that of anyone else. Actually, you are on such a pedastal. One of unparalleled arrogance and complacency! That is why we have a particular fiat for you, drafted by myself and my partner. Jett: Right you are, my authoritorian amigo. You see... II've been checking the record books and according to them, you fellows had a period where you did absolutely nothing for approximately 147 days. Now, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to know that there's something wrong there. With most championships, if the holder or holders didn't defend them at least once every thirty days, well they were stripped of their belts post haste. However... that's not my style, because you guys did win those titles in the first place. Maybe not in the most cleanly matter... but at the end, you did beat three other teams to take possession of them. And in fact... looking back to that very match gave me and Reynaldo a most fitting idea. Reynaldo: And, what an idea it is, indeed! To compensate for your...lack of matches...you won't just be defending against one team. Or two. You'll be defending against a cadre of teams, all hungry for those seemingly invisible titles that you two are more than happy to do nothing with. *Suddenly, Jett seems to get another idea, eyes lighting up with inspiration.* Jett: Actually... I have an even better idea. White Boys, at the next PPV, you will defend you belt in not a triiple threat match, not a fatal four way, not a battle royale, not a one night tournament, but a true test of survival. One of see just how good you boys REALLY are. I speak of.... a gauntlet match! Reynaldo: Truly, your ways are cutthroat...have you ever considered starting your own little nation? Erhem, anyway, we have other news for another section of the roster of W*I*G...don't worry, this one won't concern you. Jett: Yes, you see... there's been another champion around here that, well quite frankly, also needs to be dealt with. Sure, they have made plenty of defenses of their belt, but at the same time, some of those methods of retention have been very... questionable. In fact, look no further than the result of March 29th and you can no doubt guess who we're talking about. Reynaldo: And what champion may this be? I see no "questionable" actions...all are very direct and audacious...yet I find them impossible to discount all the same! Jett: Well, to be more specific, I speak of... the new WIG Undisputed Women's champion, Rosie! In fact, nix that whole undisputed part. Reynaldo: Well, you might be right. Russia supported me in my rebellion against the faulty authority of my homeland...though that was before the former GND Champ, Ykaterina Milosanova was born, and Russia's communist regime no longer exists. That and...she may not have supported that. Hmmm...my reasoning may be moot. Ahem! Go on with the plan then, my friend. Jett: Of course. Well I figure we need to shake up both of the tag and women's divisions and again, I don't considering vacating Rosie of her newly won belt as the way to do it. After all, where's the fun in that? Instead... I think that our newly crowned champion should also defend her title against all comers. After all, from what I've heard, she always bragging about how tough she is, how strong she is, how skilled she is... so why don't we see her prove it at the next PPV. As for the number of opponents... I'm thinking of a number. How about... 9?! Reynaldo: NINE?! I mean...nine. Uh...that sounds interesting...but I believe that may be a bit unwieldy! What about this...all nine are allowed to participate, but they're divided into two teams. We do seem to have a bit of a...revolucion brewing among our numerous ladies. The remaining members of the team that does win--it will be in elimination style, may I add--will compete for the W*I*G Women's Title. What say you? Jett: That is a very tempting idea... but I think I just may be able top it. Perhaps, ten women in the match, two start inside, while the remaining eight encircle the ring apron. The first two are determined by a random selection, so who has the advantage all depends on lady luck. As the for the others, well it's quite simple. Each of the two women may tag in and out as they please. Not only that, but if one of them gets close enough to someone on the apron, they have every right to tag themselves into the match. One by one, the match goes on under elimination rules. Once eight women fall, the final bout begins. This one for the Undisputed WIG Women's Championship. The winner between of the two then walks out as the TRUE Undisputed WIG Women's Champion! Reynaldo: I...I believe that is most ingenious! I was going to recommend a scavenger hunt held beachside in the Cayman Islands...but I think your idea might be more feasible. Let us go with that, then! Jett: Well, always next time. But for now, these two matches are the ones that will be set in stone. And if either of you three decide not to show up to defend your belts, then Reynaldo and I will have no choice but to immediately strip you of your titles. Not only that... but we also immediately TERMINATE your active contracts. So not only will you be left without a title, but at the same time, you'll be without a paycheck! Reynaldo: And, as per usual...the Freedom Guard of the Republic will be more than happy to "escort" you off of the premeses if that is in fact the case. Jett: Well of course. Where would we be without them? As for the other participants in these matches... well, before the PPV is finalized, Reynaldo and I will both personally select the ones we each want involved. If any of you are interested in getting a title shot, by all means stop by and ask. Rest assured WIG fans, you'll hear from us again soon. Reynaldo: Yes...and do remember, that means that ANY of you who participate in these matches could end up winning the title--and as long as you meet eligibility requirements, you're very much in. Jett: Well of course. Oh by the way... you boys can leave the ring now. Can't very well have you standing there all night. After all, I imagine you've got some serious training ahead of you. *With these words said, Jett flashes a big grin, waving at the WIG World Tag Team Champions in the ring, then turning back around and quickly disappearing into the back once more, leaving them to digest this announcement. The general follows afterwards, drawing a sly smirk across his face, nodding his head, turning around and disappearing behind the curtain ever so slowly, as if to rub it in.*
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Post by Team Ireland on Apr 5, 2009 11:16:24 GMT -5
Voiceover: The following announcement has been paid for by the friends & supporters of Team Ireland. * "Amhrán na bhFiann" begins to play over a clip of the Irish Tricolour fluttering in the wind. We then cut to a clip of Coach O'Hare standing behind a podium; the podium has an Irish Tricolour turned sideways on the front of it. The Coach is flanked by Aidan Donnelly & Sean McCann on one side & Maeve O'Hare & Shane Malone on the other. All of the team are holding Hurleys with Tricolours attached slung over their shoulders. Another large Irish Tricolour hangs on the wall behind them. O'Hare, in addition to his usual attire is sporting a small pair of half-moon glasses.* O'Hare: There have been many MANY problems in this team of late. First among them being that EVERYONE LOST THEIR F***ING MATCHES ON MARCH 29th! *O'Hare knocks over the podium in a fit of rage & turns around to throttle Sean. It takes Aidan, Shane & Maeve to stop him. O'Hare turns around & slaps Shane who, noticeably winces, but makes no move towards his mentor. Maeve can be seen saying something to her father, but the words cannot be picked up by the microphone. Maeve sets the podium up again as Malone & Aidan keep O'Hare away from Sean.* Maeve: Look, okay, right. So I lost to that wee girl & all, right? By the way... Thanks, Da! *She shoots a glance at her father* But we're Team Ireland, so we are. And we're not just going to stop because of a few stupid losses. This is it! This is the time we bounce back! So, Molly, I have an offer for you. See, I know that you're heads away in the clouds & all, so here's what I'm proposing, love, we take that trophy of mine that you stole & hang it high over the ring. First one to take it down wins possession of it, simple as that. I want to take you on in a Ladder Match, which is apt as you seem to be floating 20 feet in the air anyway. So, if you want to accept this, don't try beaming the message to us, or contacting us via your tricorder, just do it the way normal people do here on Earth. Go track down John Cena or go & say to one of those management gob-shites. I'm taking that trophy back, I'm going to beat your arse into the mat & I'm going to make sure that you never f*** with us again! *Maeve steps away from the podium as the Coach, clearly still a little frazzled, steps back up.* O'Hare: Well said, sweetheart. If some of these other lads could show the same drive maybe we'd be better off. *He glares in the direction of Sean who, stupidly, nods in agreement.* O'Hare: The important thing is, we need to start spreading the word throughout W*I*G. Every wrestler, every team, every member of staff... EVERYONE is on notice. Let it be known that we are done messing around. Pretty soon you'll ALL learn that YOU WILL NEVER BEAT THE IRISH!Voiceover: The preceding announcement has been paid for by the friends & supporters of Team Ireland.
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Coltrane
Opener
First Ever W*I*G* Champion
Posts: 29
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Post by Coltrane on Apr 5, 2009 11:41:16 GMT -5
*The W*I*G-Screen flickers into life. On it we see Coltrane sitting in that weird room he seems to go to where nobody else ever goes fro some reason. The rooms stark grey walls are illuminated by a single dangling fluorescent bulb. There are still streaks of blood, now dried, on the floor, some flies are starting to gather around them. Coltrane is sitting quite far from the camera, mostly in the shadows. He is clutching the W*I*G World Heavyweight Title Belt close to his chest. He rocks back & forth & shudders.*
Coltrane: Well, you finally did it. I didn't lose. You made me question myself. I didn't lose. Am I good enough? I didn't lose. Can I beat you? I didn't lose. I know I can. I didn't lose. I don't know why I couldn't this time. I didn't lose. My winning streak is over? I didn't lose. How can that be when I didn't lose. You were out for the 10-count too. I didn't lose. The belt is still mine. I didn't lose. I want to prove something to you. I didn't lose. I'll give you one more opportunity. I didn't lose. This time... this time I choose what happens. I didn't lose. I want to hear you admit defeat. I didn't lose. I want to have the pleasure of holding a microphone up to your beautiful lips & hear you utter two simple words: "I Quit". I didn't lose. And when you say those word, Miss Eris, you will not simply be quitting the match; you'll be quitting the opportunity to compete for this Title again. I didn't lose. This is your last chance, Miss Eris. I didn't lose. I'm not in the habit of aiding charity cases such as yourself, so you may make the most of it... I DIDN'T LOSE! I DIDN'T LOSE! I DIDN'T LOSE!
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The White Boys
Opener
First Ever WIG Tag Team Champions
Rammer Jammer, Yellowhammer, give 'em hell, Alabama!
Posts: 36
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Post by The White Boys on Apr 5, 2009 14:32:24 GMT -5
*We open on the W*I*G Locker Room. Jason and Justin White are in the room, still wearing the suits they wore in their “State Of The Confederacy” address from earlier. Jason is sitting down on the bench with his head in his hands while Justin paces back and forth.*
Justin: What da hell? What da HELL!!!!? A gauntlet!? We gotta defen’ our titles in a gauntlet!?
Jason: Will ya shut up and let me thank?
Justin: Okay, ya thank! Because ya thankin’ worked well out there! “We’ll give a big speech,” he says! “It will shut everyone up,” he says! “People will be speechless,” he says! “The management will see that we’re da best and give us anythang we want,” he says!!!! *stops pacing and bends over Jason* Well, it didn’t work!!!!
Jason: *lifts his head up* Okay! So mah plan backfired! But, this ain’t entirely mah fault!
Justin: *stands up* What!?
Jason: Oh, have ya forgotten? I believe you were da one who said that we should go on vacation.
Justin: We needed a rest!
Jason: FOR A HUNDRED DAYS!!!!?
Justin: Well, you weren’t gettin’ anxious to leave!
Jason: Oh, shut up! We can’t be yellin’ at each other! We gotta stick together! It’s da only way we’ll keep our titles!
Justin: So, what are we gonna do!?
Jason: I don’t know. I don’t know how we gonna win that gauntlet. Hell, I don’t even know how many teams we gotta beat! Son of a bitch we’re screwed!
*There is a long pause. Jason bends his head back down into his hands. Justin returns to pacing back and forth.*
Justin: Heh! Look at us. Standin’ aroun’. Actin’ all pathetic an’ shit. Ya know, if Pitbull saw us, he’d kick our asses for bein’ so useless.
Jason: *lifting his head up* That’s it. *jumps up* THAT’S IT!!!!
Justin: *stops pacing* What?
Jason: PITBULL!
Justin: Oh my God! Of course! If we had Pitbull, we sure as shit wouldn’t lose! We’d be too afraid ta lose!
Jason: Then, we gotta go git him!
Justin: Hells yeah! He’d whip us inta shape an’ yell at us ‘til we’re madder than a hornet! Wit him, there’s no way we could lose!
Jason: Though, the question remains—would he help us?
Justin: Why wouldn’t he?
Jason: Well…ya did have sex with his daughter.
Justin: So!?
Jason: He chased ya fer a mile, shootin’ at ya wit a shotgun!
Justin: Yeah, but he stopped!
Jason: Ta git more bullets!
Justin: Look, I’ve done sent him several letters of apology. I’m sure he read ‘em.
Jason: Or he coulda ripped ‘em up.
Justin: Whatever! Look, we need Pitbull. Besides, I’ma sure we could sweet talk him inta helpin’ us. He made us da men we are today! He’s like a daddy to us! I’m sure we could appeal to his desire to be a proud father to us.
Jason: Well, he never did have a son. An’ he still likes me.
Justin: But, most importantly…
Jason: We can’t win without him. Fine! We’re going to Gumbo Lake.
Justin: How do ya know he’s still in Gumbo?
Jason: Oh hell! Ya know he would never move from his lake house. He worked all his life ta git that house.
Justin: Okay. I’ll go pack—you git da plane tickets. I wonder if he’s been watchin’ us.
Jason: I doubt it.
Justin: What makes ya say that?
Jason: If he was watchin’ W*I*G, then he’d know where ya are; an’ he’d come an’ shoot yer ass!
Justin: Well, maybe he’s forgiven me!
Jason: Yeah, ya keep livin’ in that delusional world ya livin’ in.
*They walk off, and we cut to commercial.*
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Post by Super Shiny Puppy on Apr 5, 2009 20:10:07 GMT -5
John Cena is found walking through the hallways of...whatever arena W*I*G may be in at the moment, heading towards the locker room area. On his way he passes a hunched over figure with his hands buried deeply over his face. The spindly, lavender haired man clad in a black medical gown. He seems to tremble a bit but doesn't make any type of audible sound. A bewildered Cena picks up his pace until he finally reaches a door. He peaks in to make sure everything is ok before making his way inside. It's very dark and a globe shaped fixture spins on a nearby table, casting the walls with shapes of moons, stars, planets and other space related themes
Molly: "..."
Cena: "A-Ah, Molly? Is it possible to have a word with you?"
All of Molly's attention seems to be focused on her transmitter, the cause of a great deal of animosity from one Maeve O' Hare. It's beginning to look a bit more hi-tech and makes an occasional "beep" or "boop" noise. From her sitting position, she acknowledges Mr.Interviewer
Molly: "Hm?"
Cena: "Are you aware that Maeve has challenged you to a ladder match?"
This seems to snap her out of her thoughts as she looks over her shoulder
Molly: "How...tall will this ladder be exactly?"
Cena: "Erm. 15 or 20 feet?"
Molly: (with a sigh in her voice) "That's definitely not high enough."
Cena: "I'm sure it's going to be suitable enough to cause any bodily harm you can.."
Molly: "No. It's not tall enough to signal them. I need a REALLY big one. I'll have to talk to the management about that."
Cena: "A-Anyway, what I wanted to know is.."
Molly: "When humans eventually live in space, will we get our oxygen from air pills? Or will we grow space gills on our necks? I'm really not sure yet, to be honest with you."
Cena: "No, no. Uh. It's about Maeve's challenge."
Molly: "Earthling violence is the reason we haven't been asked to join the greater galactic community, ya know."
Molly turns towards John, still sitting, while drumming a few fingers along her cheek in contemplative thought
Molly: "..And poor Maeve is really violent."
Cena: "And angry. She intends to place her trophy above.."
Molly: "Wait! Did you hear that?"
Molly holds her palms upwards to silence Cena while her eyes slowly dart about
Cena: "...No?"
Molly: "Oh. Of course not. You aren't wearing the optimal communication garb."
She gives her Raggedy Ann-ish dress a few tugs before reverting her attention back to the trophy-mitter.
Molly: "Beware of cows. Not all milk is enriched."
Cena: "W..What?"
Molly: "I would rather have Zero G match but I kind of figure she wouldn't be very open to that. So! I accept her challenge. But I'm REALLY not sure why she wants this back so badly. Really doubting Maeve knows anything about this kind of technology, being from Earth and all."
Cena: "Alright folks! You've heard it here first. Molly Ringworm has accepted Maeve O' Hare's challenge for a ladder match at the next pay per view!"
Cena is talking to the camera and Molly quirks a brow, looking at him as if he were insane
Molly: "....Who are you talking to? Listen, this is really delicate and you're kinda starting to interfere with the wave length I'm picking up. So.."
Cena: "Oh! Right. Of course. I'll be going. Thank you for your time."
Cena looks to the camera as he's leaving, lowering his voice a tad
Cena: "An exclusive scoop from.."
Molly: "CUT IT OUT!"
Cena: "I'm going!"
Jaaaaaaaahn Ceeeeenuuuuuh swiftly makes an exit as the camera's fiz-ade
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TNT
Opener
Posts: 40
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Post by TNT on Apr 6, 2009 22:08:42 GMT -5
*We open on the TNT locker room. Tracy Jones, Nicole Michaels, and Talia Bell are all there. Tracy and Talia are sitting on a couch, both wearing some trendy shirts, blue jeans, and black shoes. Nicole is pacing back and forth, waiting for TNT to return; she’s wearing a black shirt, blue jeans, and black shoes. Suddenly, TNT comes walking into the room. He still has on the clothes she had earlier. The girls walk over to TNT.*
Nicole: Well?
TNT: Well what?
Nicole: Did you talk to Damien!?
TNT: Oh! Oh! Oh yeah! Yeah, we talked. We conversed. We shared thoughts and ideas and what not.
Nicole: How’d he take it?
TNT: Take what?
Nicole: Take what!? TAKE WHAT!!!!? We agreed that you would tell him that we don’t his help anymore and that you were going to warn him never to slap me again!
TNT: Yeah! Well…about that…ya see…
Tracy: You chickened out!
TNT: I didn’t chicken out!
Talia: Dud ya evin till hum whet we talked about?
TNT: Well…no…
*Tracy lets out a disappointed sigh. Talia just walks over to the couch and drops down on it.*
Nicole: What the hell!? I thought you wanted to look out for us!? To protect us!? To keep us from harm’s way!? That’s why you told us to not come for your match!
TNT: Yeah, but we were talking; and he made some good points.
Nicole: Good points!? GOOD POINTS!!!!?
TNT: Yeah, and he sorta justified what he done did…
Nicole: He slapped me!!!! How in the hell could Damien justify that!?
TNT: Well, ya weren’t suppose ta be out there. He was just remindin’ ya.
Nicole: He slapped me!!!! What kind of reminder is that!?
TNT: He was just makin’ sure you obeyed me fer da future.
Nicole: HE SLAPPED ME!!!!
TNT: Look! If ya hadn’t been out there, ya wouldn’t have gotten slapped. *to Tracy* And, where was you and Talia!? I told y’all to keep her *pointing to Nicole* away from the match!
Tracy: Hey! We weren’t even in the arena! We went to Chili’s! But, Nicole, gave us the slip.
Talia: The slup! *laughs* By “gave us the slup,” she means Nucole ren out while Ms. Chuli’s here sucked rubs down her gullit!
Tracy: Hey! I like those ribs!
Talia: Thet’s no excuse fer not doin’ your job!
TNT: And, what did you do!? Watch her leave!?
Talia: Yeah, I dud; because ut wes bullshit for us to be barred un the first place!
TNT: I was protectin’ y’all!
Nicole: You’re the one who needed protection! I saved your ass from getting bashed in the head by a steel chair from Magnum! Not only did I save you, but I showed my loyalty! And, what do I get as gratitude!? A slap from Damien! And, you didn’t do even shit when he slapped me! Magnum came to my rescue! Not you!
TNT: Hey! I was out of it! I could hardly breathe! I was all confabulated and discombobulated and what not! I could barely save myself let alone you!
Nicole: But what about now!? You had your chance to stand up for me, and what do you do!? You agree with him!
TNT: Look! I went there to stand up for ya, but me and Damien got to talkin’; and I realized some things.
Nicole: Like what!?
TNT: Well, first, we need him! We don’t got a lot of allies and friends here! We need some people to watch our backs, and he’s a good person ta have on ya side.
Tracy: Oh, that’s bullshit! We don’t need Damien! Hell, we can handle any man by ourselves.
TNT: Oh, c’mon! You girls, but ya ain’t that good! I mean, what would ya girls do against someone like Gigantor Maximus!?
*The girls stare at TNT like he’s crazy and stupid.*
Tracy: Gigantor Maximus?
TNT: Yeah! That’s guys huge! He could crush you girls like bugs! Like ya were little ants or ticks!
Tracy: Have you even seen Gigantor Maximus?
TNT: No! But, I need ta see him! I just need to hear his name to know he’s one big bad dude!
Tracy: Oh my God! Are you fucking kidding me!? *walks over to the couch and sits down*
TNT: I’m not kiddin’! I trust ya girls, but you couldn’t handle Gigantor! But, that ain’t the only reason.
Nicole: And just what is the other reason?
TNT: Well…frankly…Damien scares me a little. He had me by the neck, sayin’ he was goin’ to crush my trachea and what not. I don’t want my trachea crushed! I like breathin’ and what not.
Nicole: Great! You were suppose to be my great big protector, yet you’re scared of man smaller than you!
TNT: He may be smaller than me, but he’s also crazier than me!
Nicole: I don’t care! We protect you! Therefore, you’re suppose to return the favor! And, when it comes time to do that, you chicken out!
TNT: It’s not like that! Ladies…
*Suddenly, James “Magnum” Constance bursts in through the locker room door. He has on the same clothes he had on from earlier. TNT turns around. Tracy and Talia jump up, looking ready to fight.*
Magnum: Settle down, ladies. I’m not here to fight!
TNT: Then, what are ya doin’ here!? Destroyin’ doors!? I hope ya got da money ta pay for that!?
Magnum: First off, the W*I*Gsphere’s insurance should pay for the door. Second, I came here to see it.
TNT: Ta see what!?
Magnum: I heard it was here, and I just had to see it.
TNT: Ta see what!?
Magnum: The six-foot-chicken of course!
TNT: What!? Are ya insane, boy!? Are ya on drugs or somethin’!? There ain’t no six-foot-chicken here!!!!
Tracy: He’s talking about you, stupid.
TNT: Oh! Hey! I don’t look like a chicken! Ya thinkin’ of The Maxx! Or, Tristan Hades. He looks a little like a chicken with the mohawk and what not.
Magnum: Good God! Did your mom drink and smoke while she was pregnant with you?
TNT: Hey! Doncha talk about my momma!
Magnum: Forget it! I just came her to tell Nicole something.
TNT: Aw hell naw!!!! I know what’cha gonna do! Ya gonna ask her on date! Well, that ain’t happenin’, Satchmo! You can just turn around, go back ta ya hotel room, and have a date with ya right hand!
Magnum: No. I’m not here for a date.
Nicole: Then, what do you want?
Magnum: I came here to tell you that since Gawain here failed big time to be your knight in shining armor, I’m gonna pick up his sword.
TNT: Wait! Are we goin’ to Medieval Times?
Magnum: God, you are a moron. No! What I’m saying is that I’m going to stand up for Nicole. I’m challenging Damien Blood to a match.
TNT: What!? Are you crazy!? He busted ya open on March 29th! He nearly crushed my trachea! Why in the hell would you want to that!?
Magnum: Because I have something you don’t.
TNT: And just what would that be!?
Magnum: Pride, courage, intestinal fortitude, a sense of morals…
TNT: Hey! Ya said “someTHING” not “someTHINGS”!!!!
Magnum: Whatever. By the way, I got a special stipulation for the match—if anyone interferes, then the interferer and the party he or she interfered for will be fired. So, don’t get any ideas on making nice to Damien!
TNT: Oh don’t worry! I don’t want him on my ass for gettin’ him fired!
Magnum: I figured you wouldn’t.
TNT: What is that suppose ta mean!!!!?
Nicole: Will you shut up!?
TNT: What did I do!?
Nicole: The opposite of what he’s doing! See, this is what I wanted you to do! And, I’m glad Magnum’s doing it! Even if it’s for ulterior motives.
Magnum: Ulterior motives!?
Nicole: Oh c’mon! We all know you’re doing this to impress me! You still want to get me into bed with you! So, you’re going to be the Lancelot to my Guinevere! And, I’m gonna swoon all over you! And, you’re gonna sing “If Ever I Would Leave You” while we make love! At least, that’s the fantasy world you’ve come up with!
Magnum: No! This is not why I’m doing it! You are just part of the reason I’m gonna fight Damien! And, it surely isn’t for sex! I just don’t like seeing people beating up on people who don’t deserve it!
Nicole: I can take care of myself!
Magnum: I didn’t say that you couldn’t! I just said that you didn’t deserve to be slapped. Besides, Damien needs to be taught a lesson.
TNT: Is it how to contract AIDS? Because he needs to know that biting bloody people and lick it into his mouth is a good way to contract it.
Magnum: What!? I don’t have AIDS!
TNT: I’m not sayin’ ya do! I’m just sayin’…
Magnum: Oh I don’t care! I was saying before I got interrupted that Damien thinks he’s gonna come in here to W*I*G and run roughshod all over this place like he did in TigerPath. Well, I’m gonna prove that he’s wrong. This has nothing to do with trying to have sex with Nicole.
Nicole: You keep telling yourself that. If you say it enough, you might actually start believing it. And then, maybe everyone else will.
*Nicole walks off, bumping into Magnum’s shoulder as she exits the room.*
TNT: Ha! She told you! *puts his arms around Talia and Tracy* Ain’t that right girls!?
*The girls look at TNT like he’s crazy and then throw his arms off of them.*
Tracy: Shut up!
Talia: We’re stull med et ya!
*Tracy and Talia walk out of the room in a huff.*
TNT: Girls! Come back! *walks over to the doorway* I’m sorry! I’ll take ya ta Chili’s!!!!
Magnum: Ha! They told you!
*TNT turns around to face Magnum.*
TNT: What is your problem, man!?
Magnum: You.
TNT: Man! What did I ever do to you!?
Magnum: You attacked me at Parade Of Champions for no reason.
TNT: I barely rememba that.
Magnum: Whatever.
*Magnum walks past TNT and is about to leave the room, but TNT grabs Magnum’s arm and swings him around. They come facing each other again.*
TNT: Wait!
Magnum: What now!?
TNT: I don’t think it such a good idea fer ya be challengin’ Damien.
Magnum: Why? You afraid I’ll hurt him and take away your helper.
TNT: No. I’m not afraid fer him. I’m afraid fer ya.
Magnum: *grabs TNT’s arm and flings it off of his own* Don’t be.
*Magnum walks off, and we’re left with TNT alone in his locker room. Then, we cut to commercial.*
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The Innocent
Opener
Rosie: First Ever WIG Women's Champion
Posts: 88
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Post by The Innocent on Apr 6, 2009 23:38:54 GMT -5
As we return from commercial, we are introduced to an extreme close up of a familiar stone face, an emotionless expression carved into his features. Slowly the camera begins to zoom out, as we see the view of an equally familiar locker room, the surrounding area painted in a pale coat of white, along with each and every piece of furniture sharing a similar shade of colouring. The sound of footsteps are heard approaching from nearby, soon revealed to be that of the Innocent's Joshua. Also present nearby, two title belts hanging from off her shoulders, is the new WIG Undisputed Women's Champion Rosie. The woman has a very satisfied smirk on her face, as she watches on. Joshua on the other hand is in a much less pleasant mood, the usually present smile on his face nowhere to be found. The blonde haired young man slowly strokes underneath his chin, gazing down intently at ally with a stern expression.
Joshua: What... were you thinking? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!
Earnest: ...
Joshua: You had every right to be upset about what was said by that man Aqil. After all, I was just as upset myself. However... what you did was a BLATANT violation of our sacred code! You know as well as I violence is only permitted when the Keeper deems it necessary. However... you still took it upon yourself and attacked the man that we had hoped to recruit to our side! By doing so, not only have you cast out that opportunity forever, but in addition to that, you have soiled the name of the Innocent. You know as well as I do, that is tantamount to treason in our society.
Earnest: ...
Rosie simply shakes her head and watches on, a disgusted grimace on her face as she does. Earnest is meanwhile simply gazing down at the floor as Joshua speaks, not even looking him in the face. Joshua slowly reaches down and tilts him up by the chin to face him.
Joshua: Earnest... you have disgraced the name of the Innocent with this unauthorized assault. Not only that, but you were not present to celebrate Rosie's recent achievement becoming the Undisputed WIG Women's champion!
Rosie: Selfish bastard!
Joshua: Harsh words, but definitely justified. Earnest... do you know why we listen to our master? Do you realize why we have a Keeper?
Earnest: ...
Joshua: ANSWER ME!
Joshua's face begins to twist into a rather angry expression, or as close as his face can manage. Slowly, Earnest begins to look back up.
Earnest: I have my reasons for what I did Joshua.
Joshua: And that's the problem! You know as well as I do that we must cast our personal opinions of others aside and do only what is best for the Innocent. We must all work together and coexist in order to strengthen the glorious cause that we strive for. Therefore, we do not seek revenge.
Earnest: And what about Hensley? What exactly did you call that?
Joshua suddenly stops, thinking for a moment. Rosie raises an eyebrow, a bit surprised by this counter, as Earnest looks back up with that same lifeless expression.
Joshua: It is not my reputation we are discussing here Earnest.
Earnest: It doesn't matter who we are discussing. Answer my question. If you can.
The blonde haired young man simply nods, slowly folding his arms.
Joshua: The difference between your actions and mine... the Keeper was the one who told me to pursue Hensley. They were the one who told me to persist after he ruined my opportunity to become the WIG Champion. I was perfectly justified to do whatever I pleased to the man, whatever I felt was necessary.
Earnest: And in the end... you failed.
Joshua's eyes suddenly light up with anger, as he immediately rears back and smashes his palm right across Earnest's cheek, the larger man cringing slightly from the force, as Joshua grasps his hand slightly after. He then looks right into his ally's eyes.
Joshua: Perhaps I did fail. But I did exactly what was asked of me to the best of my abilities. You on the other hand went out for yourself and committed a grievous error in result. Nobody gave you permission to enact your vengeance.
Earnest suddenly rises to his feet, sitting from up off the bench, as now glares down right at the smaller Joshua, who looks up in some manner of surprise.
Earnest: I WAS THE ONE WHO TRIED TO DEFEND THE KEEPER! I DID WHAT I DID TO TEACH THAT INSOLENT MAN NOT TO SPEAK ILL OF OUR LEADER! AS FOR THE BOTH OF YOU< YOU WERE MORE CONCERNED WITH YOUR OWN ILL CONCEIVED VICTORY TO GAIN POSSESSION OF YOUR PRECIOUS TITLES. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE WITH ME!
Rosie suddenly stomps forward herself, now looking absolutely furious herself.
Rosie: ILL CONCEIVED?! I won that match fair an square!
Earnest: Don't even lie.
Rosie: At least I had the nerve to beat that Russian bitch face to face in a one on one match. You didn't even wait for that. Ya just ran backstage and plowed right into em. Didn't even take a second to think about things. Nah, you just charged in there like a retarded bull and beat a guy unconscious. A guy you had barely even known! And what, all because he has the nerve ta badmouth us? Ain't ya ever heard of sticks and stones Jumbo?
Earnest: You're one to talk. Ever since you won that belt, you've been too busy defending it to be concerned with our past matters. At least I actually tried to defend someone, other than yourself, who simply fights just to show off how big of a brute you are. Everything I do has a purpose... everything I do has meaning... EVERYTHING I DO HAS REASON!
Joshua: SILENCE!!!
Almost immediately, Rosie and Earnest both turn around, as Joshua looks at them both with a rather exasperated look. He slowly takes a deep breath, taking a moment to regain his composure. Soon enough, that same eerily content expression returns to his face.
Joshua: Earnest... you have always been the voice of reason amongst us. You have always been the honorable one, the man with unyielding loyalty towards the group, no matter what. You have indeed as of late tried your best to do everything you can to bring glory to the Innocent, crushing opponent after opponent in their name. And after listening to your words... you do have a point.
Earnest: Yes. Yes, I had a reason for what I did.
Joshua: Indeed. However... even if you did have a point, the fact remains that you disobeyed the Keeper. And unfortunately, there is a very specific punishment that must be cast down for anyone who violates that rule. However... after hearing your argument, I am willing to be lenient. Instead of total banishment from our sacred group... I am instead going to give you a temporary leave of absence.
Earnest's eyes suddenly widen.
Earnest: What?
Joshua: ... Rosie and I have our own problems to deal with this month and we cannot afford to be distracted by your actions. Therefore... we are cutting you loose until you have dealt with this issue you have with Mr. Ghassan. Which means... you are permitted to do whatever you like to him. However, the Innocent will have nothing to do with this. You will be on your own.
Earnest: ... I see.
Joshua: When and if... you exact this vengeance you seek, we will welcome you back to our society with opens arms. But until then...
Earnest simply nods, slowly reaching back behind him and grabbing the zipper on the back of his jumpsuit, slowly pulling it down. He continues to do so until the outfit slides from off his back and lands onto the floor in a pile. Joshua bows his head and nods, walking over and gathering up this rather massive jumpsuit in his arms, then setting down behind him on a bench nearby. He then turns back around and clasps his hands in prayer, before bowing towards the larger man.
Joshua: You will be henceforth known... as your true name. Earnest belongs to us after all. Until then, you are christened once again... as your birth name, Malakai Larkin.
The large man slowly nods, bowing his head in return. Rosie nearby also lowers her own head, before the three of them raise them back up once more.
Malakai: Thank you Joshua. I promise that I shall return... victorious.
With that, the man walks off to the side, to clothe his now bare, though thankfully unvisible body. Joshua then turns around, gazing at the remaining Rosie, a scoff on her own face.
Rosie: I hope ya didn't make a mistake there.
Joshua: ... It's definitely a bold decision, but Ear... Malakai has proved his loyalty for us and the Keeper time and again. We should allow him a chance for retribution. And in addition to that... he is my closest friend.
Rosie: Hmmmph... well, you're running things I guess. So if somethin goes wrong, it's on your head, not mine.
The woman smirks, before turning around herself.
Rosie: Now if you'll excuse me... there's somethin I need ta do myself.
Rosie then quickly exits the room, Joshua simply nodding and watching on. He then walks back over and takes a seat on the bench upon which the former Earnest's jumpsuit has been placed. The young man simply gazes down at it, as he goes into a state of deep thought.
We soon cut to commercial once more.
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Post by Gigantor Maximus on Apr 7, 2009 17:18:01 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 is home to a legend! * A picture of Archibald Barnes in his hey-day flashes on screen.* But legends are a thing of the past! * We see the same photo of Barnes being torn in two right down the middle.* This is the era of...
GIGANTOR MAXIMUS!
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Post by Archibald Barnes on Apr 7, 2009 22:26:08 GMT -5
*The camera cuts to the main arena of the W*I*G-Sphere, the ring illuminated for another match.* Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first… *Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” begins playing over the speakers of the Colvitron. Out steps Archibald Barnes, who the fans greet with cheers. He lifts his head high up, his hands upon his hips and a dignified expression on his face.* Finkel: From Albany, New York, weighing in at 119 pounds……………ARCHIBALD BARRRRRRRRRRNES! Jeannie: Oh great, it’s everyone’s favorite senior citizen, escaped from the old folks’ home again. Tom: Now that’s hardly fair. Archie is a legend of wrestling, and the fans all love him. If he can still wrestle, then by all means, let him if he wants to. Jeannie: That’s exactly the problem! *The old man begins making his way down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans who reach out to him, shaking some of them and completely missing on a few others. He reaches the ring and attempts to climb right up onto the apron, but slips off. Again, he tries to climb up, his feet kicking furiously as he attempts to scramble up onto the apron. He finally succeeds after a little while, and slides in under the bottom rope, pulls himself up to his feet and pauses dramatically, his arms raised up in the air. He takes off his bathrobe and top hat, tossing them to the outside, and begins posing, flexing what little arms he has, and his music fades out.* Tom: Archibald is pumped! Jeannie: Well, no matter who is opponent is, they can’t be any more embarrassing or bizarre than he is. Finkel: And his opponent… *Suddenly, the lights go dark, and this song blasts over the speakers as the audience members look around in confusion. A huge purple spotlight focuses on the rafters in the direction of the stage, and smoke billows out all around the Colvitron. A figure can vaguely be seen descending from the smoke, basked in the purple light. As the figure comes into view, it looks to be a man in a neon red and black flight suit, silver lamellar armor, a black space helmet with a visor and silver boots, with a huge, silvery jet pack on his back. He is riding atop what looks like a brown toy horse, with huge, red thrusters on the sides shooting pyro out of them. It can only be assumed that this “flying” horse is suspended by some of harness.* Finkel: From Ulan Bator, Mongolia, weighing in at 75.7 pounds on Mars…BAZARSAD KHAAAAAAN! Jeannie: …I stand corrected. Tom: What the—? *The horse descends downwards, toward the ramp, but then picks back up and slowly “flies” towards the ring, the man in the space suit pumping his arms and pointing at the people down below him. The horse descends down into the ring, smoke and red pyro shooting off out of the turnbuckles, as the man gets out off of his flying steed and takes off his helmet, revealing the average-sized man to have Mongolic physical features and a long, black Fu Manchu moustache across his face, along with what seems to be black cord shooting up out of the backpack harnessed to his body, and into the ceiling above him. He sets his helmet outside the ring as more smoke and pyro goes off, enveloping the ring, and the horse has mysteriously disappeared. The two competitors advance towards one another and the referee calls for the bell, to get the match under way.* DING DING DING! Tom: Who is this “Bazarsad Khan?” Is he a man from outer space? Jeannie: If you meant to say “Is his mind in outer space?” then by all means, yes. *Archibald and Bazarsad lock up with one another, the Mongolian forcing back the old man with apparent ease. He applies a hammerlock onto Barnes, who spins around and reverses it on Khan. The Mongolian simply re-reverses the move, applying it back onto Barnes who looks around for an opening. Archie drops down onto his knees, delivering a fireman’s carry to Bazarsad Khan and slamming the Mongolian to the mat, in turn causing the hold to be released. Archibald gets back up to his feet and rubs his lower back, walking off the pain. He turns around, Khan throwing a lariat at him, but he ducks it, the Mongolian running into the ropes. Bazarsad Khan rebounds off and Archibald jumps up in the air to throw a dropkick, but Bazarsad leaps into the air, jumping to what seems to be twenty feet into the air, the cord in his backpack “following” him. Archibald falls to the mat and rolls onto his back, pointing up at his opponent in shock, his jaw dropping. The Mongolian chuckles before landing back down to the mat, and throws a martial arts pose. Archibald gets up to his feet and puts up his fists in a style not all that dissimilar from the Fighting Irish leprechaun, trash talking his opponent.* Barnes: Come back and fight like a man, you yellow-bellied, crazy space critter! Tom: OOOOOOOOOH! Jeannie: Oh no…he…didn’t…? *Bazarsad Khan screams at him and charges full force again, and Archibald runs at him too, leaping and turning his body around to deliver the Invisible Ottoman! Khan crashes to the ground, and so does Archibald, but he’s able to get a cover on his foe. The referee drops down to count.* 1! 2! KICKOUT! Tom: I’m not sure how this match could be any more fast-paced and exciting than it is! Jeannie: A leaf could blow into the ring. *Archibald looks utterly shocked, yet the referee and the crowd seem to differ in reaction to the Khan’s escape. Archibald goes to pick him up, but seems to be laboring just to pull the Mongolian’s body half-off of the ground, which gives Bazarsad enough time to elbow him in the stomach a few times and pick him up in a suplex position. Again, Bazarsad Khan leaps up about twenty feet in the air, before delivering a suplex to his opponent. He goes for the cover.* 1! 2! KICKOUT! Tom: Close call for Archibald Barnes! Can he escape the assault from this Bazarsad Khan?! *Archibald manages to kick out, the fans cheering the old man for his efforts so far. Bazarsad Khan shakes his head with a sense of anger and hits Barnes with a few forearms to keep his opponent down. Khan leaps up into the air, landing onto the turnbuckle and facing his opponent. He then leaps up into the air again, spreading his body out and dropping as if to hit a splash on Barnes. Archibald rolls out of the way and Bazarsad Khan goes sprawling onto the mat, face-first, missing his mark entirely. With the Mongolian down on the mat, Archibald Barnes wraps an arm around his right thigh and applies a thigh lock, the Khan screaming in pain as the referee checks to see if he’s ready to tap out.* Tom: THE LEGENDARY THIGH LOCK! OH MY! Jeannie: I mean…maybe he can make the guy’s leg fall asleep…but what else is it going to do?! Tom: I see you haven’t had to bear the brunt of this man’s incredible offense! *The submission hold doesn’t seem to be enough, so Barnes releases it. He stands behind Bazarsad Khan, who pulls himself back up to his feet, and wraps a waistlock around the belt of Bazarsad Khan. Bazarsad looks on in terror, attempting to pull himself out, but Archibald begins spinning around, the Mongolian spinning with him, around and around and around. In an act of desperation, the Khan leaps high up into the air again, but Archibald keeps his grasp around the waist of Bazarsad, hanging on for dear life with the hold still applied. The Mongolian attempts to fight it off, but to no avail, and he goes back to the mat, landing on his feet, looking a bit winded. Barnes, still behind Bazarsad Khan, releases the hold and lowers his body, hitting his sit-out school boy rollup on the Mongolian.* 1! 2! 3! DING DING DING! Finkel: Here is your winner…ARCHIBALD BARRRRRRRRRRRNES! Jeannie: Yay, it’s finally over! *The crowd erupts into cheers as “Ride of the Valkyries” plays back over the speakers of the Colvitron. The referee raises Archibald’s arms up into the air, giving him his entrance gear and a microphone. His music cuts off again, and he lifts the microphone up to his wrinkled face.* Barnes: Well, thank you for your support, all of you out there in the crowd! It means a lot to me when I can get back in the ring and people still remember who I am… *The fans all cheer resoundingly.* Barnes: …because sometimes, I sure don’t! That’s why I always try to remember to remember to check my underwear. Funny story about that, too. Was back in ’51…or was it ’41…? Uh anyway…someone asked me who I was, and I forgot, I did, so I turned around and checked my name. But…I spelled it wrong! So when I responded I said…*he begins giggling at himself*…Archibald Karnes! But uh…that’s not why I grabbed this speaker-stick…at least I don’t think it was…oh, yes! That whipper-snapper Gigantor Maximus! As you all know, Gigantor Maximus is one of the most vile, dangerous, destructive, deadly, and nasty creatures to have ever walked a wrestling ring. This titan is a threat to all you good, honest people, and all those good, honest guys in the back who wrestle for TRUTH…JUSTICE…and the AMERICANADIAN WAY! And now, Gigantor Maximus has threatened me, attempting to topple old heroes like myself. Well, I know what I must do! I must stand up and stop this menace while I can! For my good! For your good! And for the good of the world as we know it! Because if he isn’t stopped, there’s no telling what devastation Gigantor will wreak upon us all! Wish me luck, everyone. And good luck to all of you too! Tom: Did you hear that? I think Archibald Barnes has accepted the “challenge” thrown out by Gigantor Maximus. And even if it isn’t, I think he’s still dead-set on fighting that man. Jeannie: Oh, great. Well, now I know when I’ll be using the bathroom at the show it happens at. *The crowd cheers again as “Ride of the Valkyries” picks back up again; Archibald slowly bends down, setting the microphone down onto the mat, and he creeps out of the ring and up to the stage. As he turns around to pose, but suddenly, more smoke and pyro erupts from the turnbuckle, filling the ring again. The sound of some loud pulling action can be heard, and as the smoke clears, Bazarsad Khan—attire and all—has disappeared from view, much like his horse did earlier. Archibald flashes an expression of bewilderment, before posing and flexing again, as he disappears behind the curtain.* Tom: Strong words and ambition from Archibald Barnes here tonight, and quite a strange disappearance on the part of Bazarsad Khan. What does all of this mean? Jeannie: It means about the same as the amount of sense makes…nothing. *Fade out.*
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Post by C. M. Synthy on Apr 8, 2009 16:55:29 GMT -5
*Cue to far outside of the W*I*G* arena, where the rain is falling softly, and the wind is equally as soft. It’s ominously peaceful. The camera peers around, and rests upon what looks to be a desecrated bus stop. It’s perfectly translucent, but graffiti sours the gray walls surrounding it. It seems to be a very bad part to come to rest in. The camera peers around again, and stops, focusing and then zooming into the abused bus stop. A woman is sitting against a grimy glass window pane, her legs bent slightly as she’s stretched out. Her arms are around her kneecaps, one of which is in a purple cast (not a sling). Torn black jeans and a faded black tank top are covering the ivory form. Fuchsia hair is plastered to the woman’s head, the color immediately identifying her as one Synthy Eris. The tattoo on her left arm is facing the camera, and appears shadowy. She tilts her head toward the camera, her soaked hair covering half of her face. She chuckles, but not one of joy.*
Synthy: Golden objects that set lazy men to idle dreaming…. I am not lazy, nor am I a man. Idle dreaming is a pastime meant for soft girls who don’t have the means or the discipline to reach for what they want. Golden objects… one in particular, is one that sets me apart from the idle dreamers, from the lazy men. But there is something that burns inside *She points almost idly to her temple, to her head.* here, that tells me I’m wrong for that want. You tell me, Herr Coltrane, that I ended your streak…but you aren’t defeated. You’re right. I want that title- but not for obvious reasons. I want it to demoralize you. I want to be the one that ends the streak- and if that means I get the title in the process, great. Excellent. But you really ought to realize… there are ways for me to beat you without actually getting a pin. How is that possible? Think. You aren’t dumb. I know you can understand my meaning if you try. It is most definitely not in the category of ‘impossible’, and even if it were? I would figure out a way to break it.
You must understand Herr Coltrane, there’s a reason why I’ve risen so quickly to where I am. I don’t think like an average person. There are swirls, and fiery passions that I have unlike most.
I don’t have the nuisance of a significant other, nor do I have the nuisance of giving a damn about what I have to do to obtain my goals. I have standards, yes, but I do a most violent take when it comes to getting what I want. Right now, what I want is to take what you value most. Your undefeated streak, your pride…your very dignity. After all, without that streak, what is your essence? What would keep you ticking? You have no idea what to do for a clever move set, you’re really nothing more than a doppelganger of moves. I can play that game, if you want. I think I will….
But, you also claim you want to hear me quit. Herr Coltrane, if there’s one thing I’ve –always- stood against, stood up to, is when a man wants me to do what he wants me to do. Understand? I think you do, again. I don’t like people, men, women, transvestites, whatever, telling me what to do. Demanding that I do something for their pleasures. You want me to quit. I want to ruin your pride. There’s a radical equation for you. Herr Coltrane, you must understand I love when my body is put to the test. I’d rather die than ever give up. I love gathering new scars, and replacing old ones. I love watching the ruby droplets drip..drip…drip onto whatever surface I may be smashed against. I want to see your blood this time. I want to taste it, because for you… that would be humiliating. To lose to a woman you’ve gotten the best of once, who you’ve equaled to once... I say this time, we make it a solid three all around, and this time… you’ll be the one to realize a loss doesn’t feel too good.
You want me to say, no, to scream that I quite, that I surrender, I utterly submit to you. I say let’s make it even more interesting than that. I say let our bodies not be parted by anything more than a few feet of solid chain…Do you get the gist of what I’m saying? There will be no running this time; there will be no biding of one’s time. Just straight-up battling of two souls who will neither be conquered. *Here, she licks her full lips.* Herr Coltrane, you say if I lose, I can have no more title shots versus you… I cannot get a fourth match. Fine by me, because that is a stipulation that I refuse to let come into play. Your title, your pride, your very essence will be connected to me…and then I will rip it away like a newborn from an unfit mother’s arms. I will rip it away as easily as my broken rose bleeds. I will hurt you to your core… because I feel a desire for it. That’s my goal. It’s simple. You, I. One last round, zero separation, and a hard stipulation for both of us. One last question…Are you prepared to scream for me, Coltrane?
*Her voice takes a slower, menacing but very nearly...corporeal…tone as she finishes. She shakes her head, revealing the contusions and blackened eye of which Coltrane afflicted upon her. Her lips don’t move, but her eyes… those shadowed, sophisticatedly feral, and dangerously flashing amethysts set in a sea of monstrous white… they tell everything. The camera moves backward, and fades as Synthy uncurls from her position, and steps outside of the urban bus station into the hallowed rain. *
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Post by Team Ireland on Apr 9, 2009 17:31:17 GMT -5
INTERIOR- TEAM IRELAND LOCKER-ROOM
*Shane Malone, Maeve O'Hare & Sean McCann sit on various chairs around the room. Aidan Donnelly is standing. Noticeable by his absence is Coach O'Hare.*
Aidan: Okay, roysh, so we have to get back on track. Last month was a focking disaster, no questions. So this month we have to make it up. It's time Team Ireland got back to doing what they do best! Shane, Sean, the two've you, I want you in that Tag-Team Title Gauntlet. The Coach is away making arrangements now. Maeve, you made a good step in challenging Molly. I'm proud of that, but next time, you consult with the Captain before you go doing anything like that, okay? I know you're the Coach's daughter, but there's still, like, a chain of command here, roysh?
*Maeve gives Aidan an icy look.*
Aidan: Look, love, we don't want any more rash decisions. The Coach still has the final word, even over me. And just so you're not saying, "He's ordering us into matches, but he's just sitting on his orse", that's why I invited the camera into this little team talk. Come here...
*He beckons the camera closer.*
Aidan: No, I'm not sitting back & scratching my hole while they're out trying to restore Team Ireland's good name. See, here's what I want... & I know this goy won't back down. Chaz Stone, okay, he, like, managed to get the better of us last month in what the world agrees was a total fluke! So, I want to challenge him to a match, Chaz Stone vs. Aidan Donnelly, just to see who really is the better man. I think he'll be well aware of who exactly that is.
*The camera pulls back. Aidan gestures for his team-mates to stand up next to him, which they all do.*
Aidan: It's time for Team Ireland to get serious. No more joking around, no more resting on our acheivements. At one point we were considered the best Tag-Team in the WORLD & we can be again... no, actually, we WILL be again! It's time for the Celtic Tiger to roar again & we're here to kick that beast into action!
*Aidan puts his hand out in front of him. The others follow suit, placing their hands on top of his.*
Aidan: For Ireland on three, roysh? 1... 2... 3...
All(bar Shane): IRELAND!
*They break & the camera zooms in on the Tricolour hanging on the wall behind them as we fade to black.*
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Post by Gigantor Maximus on Apr 10, 2009 15:20:37 GMT -5
* "China White" begins playing & the W*I*G-Screen goes black as white letters followed by black & white images flash across it. The lights in the arena drop, focussing at the top of the entrance ramp. Dry Ice is pumped out & a silhouette is seen against the smoke. Gigantor Maximus emerges from the fog. He has a chain wrapped around his neck, he holds one end of the chain in each hand. He stomps down the ramp, shaking his arms & rattling his chain as much as he can. Gigantor stomps on down the ramp; roaring as he goes.* Howard Finkel: The following match is scheduled for one fall with a 20-minute time limit, introducing first standing 7' 11" tall & weighing in at an astonishing 578lbs, he is the largest competitor in Wrestling's Innovative Genesis, from the Land of the Giants... This is GIGANTOOOOOOOR MAAAAX~I~MUUUUUUUUUS!!! Tom: Can you feel the W*I*G-Sphere shake with every step Gigantor Maximus takes? Jeannie: Again with this... oy? Tom: What are you, Jackie Mason now? *The crowd chuckle as Gigantor stomps all the way down the ramp, shaking his chain & trying his best to look imposing. Gigantor has to use the ring ropes like a ladder to get into the ring. He continues to stomp his way around the ring, beating his chest & rattling his chain. He removes the chain & places it at on one of the ring-posts. as he waits for his opponent.* Tom: I have no envy for the man that has to face Gigantor Maximus tonight. Jeannie: Nor do I, but probably for different reasons. * This song starts up & a man dressed up like Gene Wilder in "Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory" emerges from the back. He has a pot full of sweets & chocolate that he throws out to the crowd.* Finkel: And his opponent, from the Land of Chocolate, weighing in at a quarter pound of Gummi Bears & a Mars bar, please... "SWEET"... KEITH... KAAAAAAAAAN~DYYYYYYYYY! Tom: What are they thinking? Gigantor's going to kill this man! Chet Lemon: One thing about Gigantor Maximus... he's a big guy! Jeannie: Who let that guy in here? *Keith's chocolates & sweets are greatly appreciated by the crowd who give him a mighty cheer as he tosses out his goodies to the audience. Gigantor Maximus has no time to waste on such nonsense. He steps out, again over the top rope, & stops Keith dead in his tracks.* Tom: I would NOT want to be in Keith Kandy's shoes now! Imagine having a monster like Gigantor Maximus staring you down. Chet Lemon: One thing about Gigantor Maximus... he's a big guy! Jeannie: That's it. I'm out of here. You two guys can make delusional comments by yourselves. *Jeannie removes her head-set & walks towards the back. Kandy takes one look at Gigantor & cracks him over the head with the pot he holds. Sweets go flying everywhere. As they move towards the ring, we see Jeannie in the background stooping to gather up handfuls of the fallen candy.* Tom: What a shot! Gigantor Maximus barely even felt it! Chet Lemon: One thing about Gigantor Maximus... he's a big guy! DING-DING! *Gigantor Maximus lays at the feet of "Sweet" Keith Kandy. Keith handily lifts the much smaller Gigantor & rolls him into the ring. Keith makes the cover...* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! *There's no need for Keith's music to start playing again as it never actually had time to stop on the first place. The referee raises Keith's arm.* Finkel: Here is your winner... "SWEET"... KEITH... KAAAAAAAAAN~DYYYYYYYYY! Tom: Keith Kandy with a fluke pin to get the victory over W*I*G's Largest Competitor! Chet Lemon: One thing about Gigantor Maximus... he's a big guy! Tom: Gigantor can't let a single fluke loss like this get to him if he hopes to tangle with the legendary Archibald Barnes. Chet Lemon: One thing about Gigantor Maximus... he's a big guy! *Keith exits the ring & picks his pot of sweets back up. He makes his way back up the ramp & throws the sweets he has left back out to the crowd as he goes. Gigantor Maximus lies still dazed in the ring as we fade to the next segment.*
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Coltrane
Opener
First Ever W*I*G* Champion
Posts: 29
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Post by Coltrane on Apr 10, 2009 16:09:57 GMT -5
"I don't wanna be, I don't wanna be me I don't wanna be me... any mo-ore"Tom: Oh, great! THIS guy again! Jeannie: HottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottiehottieHOTTIE! *The wailing guitar of Type O Negative signals the arrival of the W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion. The crowd starts booing with intensity as he strolls casually out onto the ramp. He opens his coat revealing that gold belt that means so much to him & the jeers grow louder. Coltrane points to the belt as if to say "I'm still the champion!"* Howard Finkel: The following conest is scheduled for one fall & it is for the Wrestling's Innovative Genesis World Heavyweight Championship. Introducing first, from Queens, New York, he is the current reigning & defending Wrestling's Innovative Genesis Heavyweight Champion of the World... COOOOOOOOOL~TRAAAAAAANNNNNE! Tom: And Coltrane is in a foul mood after his winning streak ended at the hands of Synthy Eris. Jeannie: As he pointed out repeatedly himself, he didn't lose! Tom: But he didn't win either. Now he's going to take out that frustration on another man we know little about. *Coltrane heads on down the ramp, looking neither left nor right as he does. When he gets in the ring he removes his long black coat & hands it to a woman near the side of the ring. He removes the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship belt & hands it to the referee.* Finkel: And his opponent... *There is silence for a moment. A sudden gust of wind from above alarms the audience. They look up as the roof of the W*I*G-Sphere opens (yes, it can do that).* Jeannie: What the...? It can do that? Tom: Apparently, yes, it can do that. *A helicopter seems to be bearing down on the building. As the 'copter gets ever closer this music begins to play.* Finkel: From Ultra Mega Rich Super Mountain of Awesome, weighing in at well over 2,000lbs... Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher! *A winch unwinds down from the helicopter & drops an enormous obese man into the ring. The audience recoils in disgust. Coltrane looks on in puzzlement.* Jeannie: The hell? Tom: Hot enough for ya? DING-DING! *Coltrane looks to the referee who merely shrugs. The huge Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher is unable to move, let alone wrestle.* Jeannie: What now? *Coltrane takes a running charge at his opponent, getting his foot up as high as possible & smacking him with a Big Boot right to the face!* Tom: WHAT AN IMPACT! That did it! *Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher falls flat on his back. Coltrane jumps on top & we hear a "whoo" sound as air escapes from the folds of Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher's fat!* 1... 2... 3!!! DING-DING-DING! Jeannie: Is it over yet? *Coltrane, fortunately for him, is able to pull himself free of Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher's body before he is too fully engulfed by the flab.* The Fink: Here is your winner & STILL the Wrestling's Innovative Genesis World Heavyweight Champion... COOOOL~TRAAAAANE! Tom: Probably the last time I'll say this, but... Thank God Coltrane won! *Coltrane was planning on saying a few words to Synthy Eris, but he is so repulsed by his opponent in the ring that he merely snaps up his W*I*G World Heavyweight Title Belt & storms right out of the W*I*G-Sphere.* Chet Lemon: One thing about Macho Blob Money Force Power Snake Atomic Basher... he's a big guy! Jeannie: GOD! Will you ever go away?!
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Post by Reynaldo Fernandéz on Apr 10, 2009 19:36:29 GMT -5
*The camera fades into the co-office of the General Managers of W*I*G, Reynaldo Fernandez sitting at his desk in a very relaxed position, a lit cigar protruding from his mouth. The embers burn a bright orange as a fine stream of smoke vent upwards, spreading out and forming a fog above his capped head. A smirk on his face, Reynaldo removes the cigar from his mouth and breathes out a ring of smoke, before clearing his throat.*
Reynaldo: Hola, patrons of Wrestling’s Innovative Genesis. As my partner and co-GM Jett Ripley is out on business at the moment, I have taken it upon myself to deliver some news about our much anticipated, yet nameless and dateless Pay Per View event. In fact, I have two major announcements.
*Reynaldo grabs a sheet of paper on his desk with his free hand, lifting it up towards his face before taking another puff of his cigar.*
Reynaldo: After much arduous deliberation, your beloved, benevolent Presidente has decided upon a moniker that he finds particularly befitting for our event, which he has determined is best to take place upon the 26th of this month of April. As we have two huge matches that feature a cadre of competitors each, I thought to myself, “Reynaldo, in all your wisdom, what is a name we could give our Pay Per View that highlights its features?” The answer is simple—it is Attrition. That is, for those of you who don’t know, the…losses, both human and otherwise…suffered in a military conflict. And with so many people battling with one another, tooth and nail, can it not be more fitting? All this conflict comes to a head, with particularly noble battles being over resources that can each be held by but one person or party at a time. Maeve O’Hare and Molly Ringworm will duel in a ladder match over a trophy both claim to be their own. Rosie defends her Women’s Title against a HUGE selection of opponents, each eager to take her title from her. The White Boys are forced to defend their championship gold in a gauntlet match, versus…and I have counted…NINE other opponents, who shall remain unknown for now. And Coltrane and Synthy Eris meet up in their third of a series of matches, to decide quite possibly once and for all, who truly deserves to be crowned W*I*G World Heavyweight Champion. As I may be concerned, along with our other matches that will be featured, it will be such a bloody and brutal affair for all! And will that not be what the people want? The fearsome combat and the Attrition caused throughout? I do believe so!
*Reynaldo takes another puff from his cigar.*
Reynaldo: And, for the second announcement, I would like to speak upon a special stipulation for our Tag Title Gauntlet. Not only will there be ten competing teams, should you include our friends the White Boys—who are of course going to be starting out—but to prevent any further potential controversy on the titles, I have decided, along with my friend Mr. Ripley, to make the final round of the gauntlet no disqualification. Anything in that round is legal, and as a result, not only will it be all the more violent for the fans’ enjoyment, it will also ensure that there is no further controversy on the titles by a possible DQ! So to those of you who do make it to the final round—or intend to—remember that whatever the opposing team may do to you at that point, there is nothing to stop it!
*Reynaldo lays the papers down, and once again puffs his cigar.*
Reynaldo: So, in closing, to all of you competitors here in W*I*G, and all of you loyal viewers, keep your eyes and ears peeled, and your hearts prepared…for there is quite no telling what other events and...surprises...you might experience when you feel Attrition full-force.
*Reynaldo nods his head, and puts his cigar back into his both, as the camera slowly fades out from the office.*
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