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Post by sigmafan on Apr 10, 2009 22:37:52 GMT -5
*the cameras are in a bathroom, oddly enough in this contest. Someone walks into the picture. He could only be described as an athletic, bald, black, and really good looking. Then comes another guy into the picture, another athletic, good looking guy, but he's got a nice classy haircut and he's white. Both of them put on a matching set of tuxedos. Finish up and leave the room to a waiting tandem of lovely ladies. They leave arm and arm.*
*Next they are shown treating the ladies to a lovely dinner, dancing and escorting them to a pair of seats in a crowd. They zoom out and the two are entering a wrestling ring. They proceed to put on a clinic of tag team wrestling to massive cheers. A few double dropkicks and their finisher later, they are declared the winners to a bevy of cheers and "You Dropped The Bomb On Me" playing over the loud speakers. They both head to the back*
The black one: Hi, I'm Monty George.
The White One: I'm Steven Gregory And together, we're the fabulous ones!
Monty: So you boys out there in WIG land better watch out, because we're coming after you.
Stephen: And our fab fans out there will be standing and cheering. Because let's face it, we're the fabulous ones.
Together: Ladies men outside the ring, but the best Tag Team in the world inside the ring.
The Fabulous Ones
Coming to WIG
SOON!
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ragnal
Opener
Doesn't like pretty pictures below his username.
Posts: 83
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Post by ragnal on Apr 10, 2009 22:46:52 GMT -5
As the show fades back in, Lily-Rose is standing in the ring, her theme music and the crowd's cheers fading out as she begins to speak on the mic.
Lily: Folks, on March 29th, you saw the rocker that is me, Lily-Rose, give it her all and take down the mecha-chica that calls herself Vile. But I'll be honest, what happened afterwards was VERY uncalled for.
*The crowd boos, sending their agreement with Lily on the subject.*
Lily: Yeah, I beat her, yeah, I kept her from having an actual win in WIG, but that's life, sister. Thankfully...
She smirks, crossing her arms as she tilts her head to the side.
Lily: Someone came in and had my back. A chica I knew from a Starrfest concert last year was interested in coming back to the ring. So I got in talks with the new commissioners of the show, and LO AND BEHOLD...she has risen anew! Ladies and germs, let's hear it for TANYA FLAIRE!
*With an instance, Lily turns to face the ramp, and the lights change to a tint of red as "Spit" by Kittie plays over the PA system. The black-haired punker runs down the ramp from backstage, her fist pumped in the air as she passes by the fans before sliding into the ring. Tanya's slide stops in mid-ring, where she stays on her knees and throws the devil horns up. Finally, she leaps to her feet, and turns to Lily-Rose, giving her fellow musician a hug before taking to the mic.*
Tanya: It's been...what? Three years since I stepped inside a ring. Three years since I decided to step away after a car accident nearly ruined my career, and I decided to go into the music biz. But a few months back, I was getting an itch to get back in the ring. But hey, EWT had shut down, and there weren't too many places to go to after that...but Lily came through for me and brought me here. And thankfully, I was here to save her in time from Vile's attack. But hey, Vile? That doesn't mean things are over between us.
*The crowd cheers*
Tanya: You attacked my friend, and now you have to deal with the both of us. But here's the thing: We're willing to let you get a tag partner of your choosing, and face us in the ring at the next PPV.
*Tanya hands the mic off to Lily, who smirks as she looks up the ramp.*
Lily: And the match itself has a special stip to it: Guitar Match. First person to hit their opponent in the head with the guitar is the winner. So get ready, Vile! Cuz we'll be rockin' the ring that night!
*Lily's music plays as both she and Tanya climb the top turnbuckles and stand tall, raising their arms out to the cheering crowd as the scene fades out.*
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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 11, 2009 15:00:10 GMT -5
*We open a nice lake house on Lake Martin, a large lake a few miles east of Alexander City, Alabama. It is quite large and looks a little like an old Southern plantation. Suddenly, a Ford truck drives up to the turnaround driveway and stops right in the middle. Out of the truck comes the W*I*G World Tag Team Champions, the White Boys. Jason is wearing a button-up plaid shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. Justin is wearing a University of Alabama t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a University of Alabama baseball cap.*
Justin: Finally! We made it! I can’t believe Pitbull moved from Gumbo Lake.
Jason: I can. It was a swamp! Besides, he always talked about movin’ away from the Gulf!
Justin: How could he hate the Gulf!?
Jason: One word: hurricanes.
Justin: Well, let’s go get it over wit!
Jason: Let me do da talkin’! We still don’t know if he hates ya!
Justin: Fine.
*They walk up to the front door. Jason pushes the door bell, and it chimes. Jason knocks on the door a little. After a minute or two, the door opens. The man who answers is obviously the owner of the house: Isaiah “Pitbull” Jefferson, a tall muscular black man with short hair and a goatee. He’s wearing a white wifebeater, blue jeans, and sneakers.*
Jason and Justin: PITBULL!!!!
*Suddenly, Pitbull slams the door shut.*
Jason: DAMMIT!!!! I knew it! I knew he still hated you!
Justin: That don’t mean nothin’! He always slams the door after openin’ it! *knocks on the door* C’mon, Pitbull! It’s us! You’re favorite tag team! Open up!
*The door opens again, and Pitbull comes out with a shotgun. He points it into Justin’s face.*
Justin: Okay. You were right, Jason.
*Pitbull back Justin to the truck. He stops when he hits it.*
Pitbull: I done told ya that if I ever saw your cracka ass again I would shoot ya! Ya must be one suicidal summabitch!!!!
*Jason rushes over to Pitbull and grabs his arm.*
Jason: C’mon, Pitbull. Don’t do this! Thank about it! A black man shootin’ a white boy in Alabama!!!! Shit, times may have change; but thangs ain’t that progressive!
Pitbull: I don’t give a fuck! Prison will be wroth it!
Jason: Oh, c’mon, Pitbull!!!! It was three years ago!!!! Surely that was long enough to get over it!!!!
Justin: Yeah! An’, I’m sorry! I really am!
Pitbull: Do I look like I care about your sorry’s!? Ya gotta lotta nerve comin’ back afta screwin’ mah daughta!!!!
Justin: Well, in mah defense, she wanted it just as much as I did!
Pitbull: WHAT!!!!?
Jason: Oh, you idiot!!!!
Pitbull: That’s it!!!! I’m sorry, Jason, but I’m gonna kill ya brotha!!!!
Jason: NO, DON’T!!!!
*Suddenly, Pitbull elbows Jason in the face, knocking him to the ground. Then, Pitbull steps back and cocks the guns. Justin turns away. Jason gets up and tries to stop it. But, it’s too late. Pitbull pulls the trigger…
and, little flag that says “BANG!” pops out, revealing that it’s a fake gun. Jason lets out a large sigh of relief. Justin turns around to see it’s a fake gun. Suddenly, Pitbull puts down the gun and lets out a large laugh.*
Pitbull: *laughing* Aw man!!!! Da look on ya face is priceless!
Jason: Oh, thank God!
Justin: So, ya not mad anymore.
Pitbull: Hell naw! That was three years ago! Besides, y’all was consentin’ adults! An’, mah daughta told me that she was the one who…um…
Justin: Seduced me.
Pitbull: Thank ya. I just can’t say that with mah daughta and whatnot.
Justin: No problem. So, *laughing* what is ya daughta doin’?
Pitbull: *serious as a heart attack* Married to a preacha, an’ you betta stay da hell away from her! Ya understan’ me, boy!
Justin: Yes sir!
Pitbull: Now, let’s look at ya two World Tag Team Champions!
Justin: Ya been watchin’ us!
Pitbull: Hell yeah! You two are da sons I never had! Of course I followed what y’all was doin’ in W*I*G! Let’s get y’all inside an’ talk!
*Pitbull walks to the front door and enters his house. Jason and Justin follow, closing the door behind them. Inside the house looks nice: leather furniture, state of the art electronics, flatscreen TV with satellite channels, and a lovely chandelier above the entrance way. Pitbull walks over to the living room and places the gun against the wall.*
Pitbull: You two boys want somethin’ ta drink.
Jason: Got any beer!
Pitbull: Hell, yeah!
*Pitbull walks over to the kitchen. He open the refrigerator, pulls out three beers, and closes the fridge. Then, he walks back to the living room and hands to of the beers to Jason and Justin. They all open their beers and take a sip. Then, Pitbull sits down in a leather chair. The White Boys sit down on a couch.*
Jason: Wow! This place sure is nice!
Justin: Hell yeah! How da hell could ya affor’ this place! I know workin’ for the Alabama Rasslin’ League ain’t payin’ that well.
Pitbull: Oh no! I done quit!
Jason: Really!? Why!?
Pitbull: I won the lottery!!!!
Justin: What!? Are you kiddin’!?
Pitbull: Hell naw!!!! Twenty-five million dollars!!!! All mine, baby!!!!
Jason: What a minute! Alabama don’t have no state lottery!!!!
Pitbull: *takes a sip of beer* No, but Louisiana does!
Jason: You won the Louisiana State Lottery!?
Pitbull: Well, sorta.
Jason: Sorta!?
Pitbull: Technically, mah brotha won. Y’all know mah brotha!
Justin: Yes, we know Bulldog! How is he?
Pitbull: Dead!
Jason: Oh mah God! I’m so sorry, Pitbull!
Pitbull: Don’t be! He was an asshole.
Justin: *to Jason* Doncha remember! They had a fallin’ out over their momma’s house!
Jason: Oh yeah.
Pitbull: Anyway, he won da lottery, but he was in a car accident afta he went ta collect da check. An’, since I was his only relative still alive an’ since his will stated it, I naturally got all da money. Plus all his crap, but hey, if I’m gettin’ twenty-five million dollars, I’ll take his collection of velvet paintin’s of Luther Vandross as well.
Justin: *takes a sip of beer* Well, ya sure got a fancy shelta here!
Pitbull: Thank ya, but enough about me! Let’s talk about y’all! World Tag Team Champions! I don’t believe it!!!! I’m so proud of y’all! Ta thank, two guys I done train and taught the rasslin’ business to are now World Tag Team Champions!
Jason: Stop it, Pitbull! Ya makin’ us blush!
Pitbull: You two have done good! Though, I’m a little disappointed in da lack of title defenses!
Jason: Well, we would have defended the titles more if Justin hadn’t convince me ta go on vacation!
Pitbull: What da hell!? Vacation!?
Justin: Hey! We deserved a break!
Pitbull: Goddamn, son! You are still one lazy son of a bitch!
Justin: Hey! Don’t talk about our momma like that!
Pitbull: Sorry. I understan’ y’all’s next defense is goin’ ta be a challenge.
Jason: That’s actually why we’re here. *puts the beer down onto the coffee table*
Pitbull: Hey! Coaster!
*Jason grabs a coaster and places his beer on it.*
Jason: Sorry. Anyway, we gotta defen’ our World Tag Team Titles in a Gauntlet Match.
Pitbull: *takes a sip of beer* I heard. That’s gonna be tough, especially with the last round bein’ no DQ.
Jason and Justin: What!?
Pitbull: Oh yeah! They done announced that the last two teams in the Gauntlet would hafta fight in a no disqualification match!
*Jason and Justin suddenly take their beers, lean back, and drink them both in one large swallow.*
Jason: SON OF A BITCH!!!!
Justin: Man! What da hell!? Why do they gotta pick on us!?
Jason: Freakin’ Yankee bastards!!!! They can’t stand that a good Southern teams holds their World Tag Team Titles! So, they gotta put us through the ringer to get them off of us!
Pitbull: Well, in their defense, you didn’t defend those titles for several months!
Jason: Regardless! The fact remains that we don’t deserve this treatment!!!!
Justin: This is why we came! Ya see, we can’t win this match on our own. We need help.
Pitbull: Ya mean, ya need mah help.
Jason: Yes. Pitbull, you were da greatest thang that happen ta us! Ya got us our first job in rasslin’! Ya trained us! Ya pushed us to do thangs we neva coulda done on our own! Ya made us better than we were! We need ya to do that again! We need ya to push us to be the absolute best! Will ya help us!?
Pitbull: Of course!
Justin: Thank God!
Pitbull: Where will y’all be stayin’?
Jason: Well, we didn’t wanna ask, but…
Pitbull: Don’t worry! Ya can stay here—I got plenty of rooms.
Jason: Thank ya.
Pitbull: Now, they done said that Attrition…
Justin: Attrition!?
Pitbull: That’s da name of the pay-per-view.
Justin: Oh.
Pitbull: Now, Attrition is goin’ ta be held on April 26. We got two weeks ta train. So, tonight, we’ll have ourselves a bar-be-que—I have some friends comin’ over—so, tonight, we party. We get all that decadence out. *stands up* Then, we train! I’m not gonna hold back now! I’m gonna be harder on you than a drill sergeant! I’m gonna do everythang in mah power to break you boys! I’m gonna make ya wish y’all was neva born! I’m gonna tear y’all new assholes! I’m rip your heads off an’ spit down your gullets! I’m gonna shove firecrackers up your asses and set ‘em off! Ya gonna pray ta God ta strike me down dead! Hell is gonna look like a pleasant place when I’m done with y’all! I’m gonna make y’all hate the very sight of me! Hell, ya probably even gonna wanna kill me!!!! Now, is this what you want!!!!?
Jason and Justin: Yes sir!!!!
Pitbull: Good! Now, go get your thangs.
*The White Boys stand up and walk out of the house to get their things. Pitbull takes a sip of his beer. Then, a devilish grin comes across her face. And, we cut to commercial.*
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Post by Jawbreaker on Apr 11, 2009 16:45:44 GMT -5
-A dingy little hole in the wall, not much to look at. That is the landscape for the promo. "Raining In Blood" by Slayer is heard faintly from an old juke box, the sound quality is tarnished from the decrepit machine. The small group that's gathered are either playing pool or drinking heavily. Within the corner are two large men, a pair of WIG's newest wrestlers to be exact. Victor Trauma sits in the corner of the room, his hands placed in the pockets of his long, leather coat. His feet are propped up on a chair and he lightly taps his boot against him. On the opposite side of him and seated upon a stool is his tag partner Tommy Fright. He rubs his palms together before smoothing them over his bald head, appearing to be agitated about something. WIG's interview John Cena is on the scene and he kneels downwards and extends a microphone-
John Cena: John Cena here with Victor Trauma and Tommy Fright. At our next pay per view, Attrition, there's going to be a tag team gauntlet match featuring a total of ten teams.
Trauma: Really?
Fright: I think we might have heard something about that.
-The pair smirk to one another before turning away-
John Cena: None of the teams have been announced as of yet but can you shed any light if you two might be one of those teams?
Fright: Nope. Not us.
John: Is that so?
Trauma: Oh yeah. It's true alright.
-Trauma rubs at his chin, laughing slightly-
Trauma: Turns out we haven't been around long enough to be included in this little dance. "We haven't made a big enough impact" or so I'm being told.
-Fright taps at the side of his head in a mock display of thought for a quick second-
Fright: Or, hey, maybe it's because we don't sing or dance enough.
Trauma: Very good point, we don't have our own Internet show either.
Fright: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Our fault. We only showed up to fight. Maybe we should brush up on our soft shoe routine?
Trauma: Or MAYBE, some people saw what we did to Hawkins and Ryder and decided they just didn't want any.
Fright: John, take a look around. But first take a seat for Christ's sake. Stop kneeling. We aren't doing the tired "push around the announcer" routine.
-Tommy pulls up a stool for Cena to sit in and he quickly obliges-
Fright: Take a look around. Where are we?
Cena: A bar?
Trauma: That's right, we're at a bar. We like to knock a few back and gamble every chance we get. That's what we would say if we were your stereotypical big man tag team. That's not why we're here. That's not why we're in the wrestling business. We're in the wrestling business to FIGHT.
Fright: We like to fight. A LOT. If we're not fighting in the ring then we're training for the time when WILL be in the ring. So there are two reasons we're at a place like this right now.
Trauma: We like to play pool..
Fright: ..and we like to keep things nice and peaceful. Somebody wants to talk shit to some guy minding his own business. We step in. Somebody wants to disrespect a woman? We step in. Why?
Trauma: Because every second we aren't fighting is a second going to waste. And WIG not giving us a chance not to fight against NINE other teams REALLY pisses us off.
-Victor's face twitches with a sense of intensity and annoyance while Tommy nods in agreement-
Fright: But that don't mean we won't be watching. We're going to be watching every last second of that match.
Trauma: It really ain't gonna be fair, John. It really ain't. The next team they put us in the ring with? They're gonna be picking up their teeth when it's over.
Fright: Broken arms, internal bleeding..
Trauma: Once they get all nice and healed up we'll buy 'em drinks at a bar kind of like this one. Don't take it personally. Somebody's got to be pay for this..heh.."drastic oversight".
-The pair's aggression seems to shift to a calm sense of peace but they still remain highly irritable-
Trauma: But it's cool. Because we won't ever get overlooked again. I god damn promise you.
-Cena thanks the team for their time as the scene goes to another segment/commercial-
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Post by Malakai Larkin on Apr 12, 2009 0:29:57 GMT -5
As we return from commercial, we fade in to the sight of a darkened WIGSphere, as a familiar tune plays in the background. A steel folding chair has been set up in the middle of the ring, with a very large and familiar man seated upon it. However, instead of a yellow and white jumpsuit, as one would expect, the man is instead clad in nothing but a pair of faded blue jeans and worn white sneakers. The crowd simply watches on in silence at the sight of this man, as he soon raises a microphone to his lips. Malakai: Aqil... you made a huge mistake at March 29th. A grave error in which you will pay dearly for. A sin of the highest offense that must be punished. It wasn't just denying to join my allies, the Innocent, nor merely the fact that you called us sick and depraved individuals. But it was when you had the nerve... to insult our great leader. The man slowly raises his head, now looking on with pure anger in his eyes, mouth twisting into a stern scowl. The crowd meanwhile boos him loudly as he continues to speak. Malakai: Our leader... an individual who has done nothing but good things out of the kindness of their heart for WIG. A being whose unparalleled generosity has kept us all as strong as we were when we first began, as well as allowing us to soar to new heights that few people have realized in their entire careers! Yet, in your mind... he is something else. A sick manipulative being, who seems to only serve their own agenda while hiding behind the scenes. The reason none of you have ever laid eyes upon the Keeper is the fact that NONE OF YOU ARE WORTHY! Such a holy being should never be seen in their purest form, less the sight of their radiating brilliance drives their spectators to madness. The sizable man however lowers his head once again, slowly brushing the long black hair from his face with a palm. Malakai: But this no time for showering one with praise. After all, I'm not even one of the Innocent at the moment. Why do you ask? Well... it's quite simple. There are limits to things that our group is allowed to do and things that are strictly forbidden. However, these things can be allowed, but only under special circumstances. Ghassan... you pushed me to do something I never thought I'd do. Exile myself from my allies, just so I can give you the divine justice that you deserve. I am the shining light here in WIG, bathing my fallen opponent's with my purity and cleansing their wretched souls, so that they can be turned to a higher path in life. That's why I attacked you... a fitting punishment for your atrocities. But redemption is not yet at hand. The crowd continues to boo this rather insane man, as he slowly bows his head before them, continuing to deliver this message of his. Malakai: Nothing can be solved by a simple attack. No, in order for me to find closure, so that I may wash away these feelings of hatred that I have for you, I must crush you in the middle of that ring. Which is why I offer... a proposal. I don't expect you to return just yet, after the beating I delivered upon you, but I will gladly extend this invitation to you now. At the next PPV, Attrition... you have every right to challenge me to a match. Not only that, but since I am not currently affiliated with my allies, you have no reason to fear them getting involved. It'll be a simple one on one encounter. An honorable battle between two men face to face. However, you will not be facing the docile and wise giant known as Earnest. Instead... you will be facing a man who abides by no rules, either those of man, law, or religion. A man known as Malakai Larkin. If you decide to accept this challenge... I cannot guarantee your safety. In fact, it'd be safe to assure that you may not even walk out of that ring of your own accord. The only thing I can promise you is this. A chance to seek retribution for my cowardly attack against you. If you refuse, which may be understandable, then you will simply prove exactly what I've thought of you ever since you began badmouthing us. You're nothing but talk, with nothing important to say to boot. Malakai slowly rises up from his seat, now towering from inside the ring, a very focused look forming upon his face now. Malakai: You have until the night of Attrition to accept. And if you decide to accept, then rest assured... with every muscle in my body, I will make you pay dearly for your foul words. Only then can I finally silence this restless fury that emanates from within my body.And then, and only then, will I be able to return to my family once again. The man then makes his exit from the ring, as the crowd continues to boo the man, still not over the fact of what he did to Aqil. He then swiftly makes his exit from the ring, stopping atop the ramp way. He slowly raises his arms high, as he looks up towards proverbial heavens, indeed looking interested in getting Ghassan's answer.
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Post by SsnakeBite, the No1 Frenchman on Apr 13, 2009 17:38:31 GMT -5
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TNT
Opener
Posts: 40
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Post by TNT on Apr 14, 2009 20:59:21 GMT -5
Howard Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. *TNT’s music plays.* www.youtube.com/watch?v=WCX8gDW4YS0Finkel: Introducing first, coming down the aisle, at a combined weight of 265 pounds, from The Southwest—Tracy Jones, Nicole Michaels, TNT. *Nicole and Tracy come out to the boos of the crowd. Nicole is wearing an orange top and skirt with a flame design on the top and a flame design and “TNT” written in white around the skirt, black wrist tape, and orange boots. Tracy is wearing an orange top and tights with a flame design on the top and a flame design and “TNT” in white down the legs, white wrist tape, and orange boots. Pyro goes off behind them as they walk to the ring. They both look calm and focused as they walk up the steps, onto the apron, and through the ropes. Then, they walk to a corner.* Tom Bailey: Welcome back to W*I*G Vindication, and we are about to see Tracy Jones and Nicole Michaels in tag team action! Jeannie Lawless: Well, it should be interesting to see what happens, what with everything that’s going on among Nicole, James “Magnum” Constance, and Damien Blood. Tom: Who knows? Maybe Magnum and Damien will make an appearance. Jeannie: Oh, I hope so! It will be better than this taco fest. Tom: Wow! Whenever I think you can’t get any lower, Jeannie, you go and prove me wrong. Jeannie: Thank you! “Code Blue’s music plays.* www.youtube.com/watch?v=H25lz7gchawFinkel: And, their opponents… *Suddenly, a strange red substance drops down onto the ring, hitting Howard Finkel. Finkel falls to the mat. The music stops. The red substance quickly covers the mat. Tracy, Nicole, and the referee look on in shock and confusion. Two women dressed in blue wrestling attire walk on and stop at the entranceway, confused as to what his going on.* Tom: Sweet Bongo Of The Congo!? What the hell is that crap dowsing Howard Finkel!? Jeannie: I don’t know, but I don’t think Code Blue have anything to do with it since it’s red. Tom: Wait!? Is that blood? Jeannie: Blood!? Uh-oh! *The “blood” stops, and Finkel tries to get up. But, he slips and falls. Suddenly, Damien Blood comes out, hitting Code Blue from behind with a double clothesline. He has on white shirt, blue jeans, and black shoes. The crowd boos loudly realizing that he’s the culprit behind the “blood.”* Tom: It’s Damien Blood! What the hell!? Jeannie: I knew it! I knew he was behind this “blood” thing! Tom: Why is he doing this!? What possible reason could he have to terrorize the people who brought him into this company!? Jeannie: Who knows!? This guy isn’t exactly sane. *Then, Damien runs down to the ring. Tracy charges at him, but she can’t really move fast without falling down. This allows Damien to climb up to the top turnbuckle. He jumps off, hitting Tracy with a diving crossbody. Nicole tries to come to Tracy’s aid, but Damien catches her with an armdrag. Both girls are now covered in “blood.” Then, Damien and Tracy get up. Damien grabs Tracy from behind and hits her with a torture rack powerbomb.* Tom: Bloodshed to Tracy Jones! Jeannie: Man! Damien Blood really is crazy! I mean, who in the hell uses something from WCW circa 2000 to attack a person!? *Damien pounces on Tracy, choking her. The referee grabs Damien by his head, trying to pull him off of Tracy. However, this only annoys Damien, and he hits the ref with a chop to the throat. The ref falls to the mat. Suddenly, Nicole jumps onto Damien, unleashing a flurry of punches onto him. This catches Damien offguard as Nicole takes him to the mat. However, Damien manages to regroup quickly, grabbing Nicole by her throat and throwing her to the mat. Damien gets up, picks up Nicole by her hair, and throws her into a corner. Nicole slowly gets up. Damien looks at her with a devilish grin. He slowly walks over to Nicole. She tries to exit from the corner, but Damien grabs her by the neck and throws Nicole into the corner. Then, Damien leans in close, sticks out his tongue, and licks off some of the fake blood on Nicole’s face. The audience lets out a creeped out groan.* Jeannie: Ew! Tom: I thought you liked this sort of thing! Jeannie: This isn’t sexual—this is psychological! It’s creepy! Where the hell is TNT!? Tom: I don’t care! Could someone come out and help this woman!? *Suddenly, the crowd starts cheering as Magnum runs down to the ring. He is wearing a tan shirt, blue jeans, and boots, and is holding a steel chair. He slides into the ring, runs over to Damien, and smashes him in the back with the chair. Damien falls to his knees. Magnum drops the chair, grabs Damien, picks him up, and hits him with a reverse thrown inverted Death Valley driver.* Tom: Thank God! James “Magnum” Constance to the rescue! Jeannie: Thank you, lord! Magnum is here to stop this and give me some visual satisfaction! Tom: Good lord! Do you ever stop!? Jeannie: Well, there was…Ode To Tom Selleck!!!! Ode To Tom Selleck!!!! Ode To Tom Selleck!!!! *Nicole walks over to Tracy and checks on her. Magnum gets up and picks up the chair again. Then, he swings it over his head and smashes the chair onto Damien’s back. Magnum picks up the chair and smashes it onto Damien again. He picks up the chair and smashes it onto Damien again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again!!!! Suddenly, security guards and referees run down to the ring. The security guards tackle Magnum and hold him back. He struggles to break free and attack Damien again. Meanwhile, the referees check on Damien and help him out of the ring.* Tom: Here comes security and referees! Jeannie: It’s nice to see that they’re helping out the guy who started this whole mess and punishing the guy who came to Nicole’s rescue. *The referees help Damien to the back. Suddenly, Magnum fights his way through the security guard. Then, he jumps out of the ring and charges at Damien. He hits Damien from behind with a high knee strike. Then, Magnum jumps onto Damien and unleashes a flurry of punches onto him. The referees and security guards quickly jump onto Magnum, pulling him off of Damien. Magnum fights them off as Damien gets up and tries to escape. Suddenly, Magnum gets free, grabs Damien, and throws him off the ramp. Damien lands onto the concrete floor, but he quickly gets up. However, Magnum jumps off the ramp and hits Damien with a double axe handle. Damien falls down again but gets back up. Magnum grabs Damien and slams him face first onto a table. Then, he throws Damien into a box of electrical equipment. Magnum walks over, grabs Damien, and throws him through a curtain. Magnum follows with the referees and security guard behind him.* Tom: Magnum has snapped! Jeannie: Damn! Damien better be careful, or he won’t make it to Attrition. *Back in the ring, Nicole helps up, and they exit the ring. Suddenly, TNT runs down to the ring, wearing a blue Western-style button and collar shirt, black jeans, and black cowboy boots. The crowd boos him as he walks over and checks on Tracy and Nicole. Suddenly, Tracy hauls off and viciously slaps TNT. The crowd is stunned into silence. TNT is shocked! All he can do is rub the side of his cheek. Then, Nicole yells out “WHERE WERE YOU!!!!?” Then, the girls brush by and walk up the ramp. TNT just turns around and stares at the girls as they walk up the ramp.* Tom: Uh-oh! Looks like there’s trouble in paradise. Jeannie: Well, if TNT needs any eye candy to hang on his arm, I’m available. In fact, I’ll go tell him that! Tom: Sit down! Jeannie: Fine! Wait…I just realize…how are they going to get rid of all this “blood”? Tom: I don’t know. *Cut to commercial.*
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Post by C. M. Synthy on Apr 15, 2009 0:28:26 GMT -5
*After a minor TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES screen floods the entire W*I*G*Tron, we cut back to reveal the mat newly-freshened up and the next match.* Finkel: Coming from Indianapolis, Indiana, weighing in at 145 pounds and standing at 5’7.. Synthyyy ERIS~! *Ghostflowers from Otep plays. Synthy walks out,dressed in her usual leather and violet gear, rubbing her arm, popping her wrists, and just generally looking unaffected by anything at the moment. She nods and high fives a few fans, hits the apron, and flips over it. She raises her sunglasses and grins slightly, crosses the ropes and leans as she looks up the ramp.*Finkel: Due to a misunderstanding backstage and a very convoluted reasoning in management’s decisions, Mylvyn Mervyn will NOT be Synthy Eris’ opponent tonight. *The crowd does a very decisive…non-decision in regards to this. Synthy simply raises an eyebrow in intrigue.*Finkel: Instead, Synthy Eris will be facing the opponent originally scheduled for her brother Tristan Hades…Standing in at 6’5, and weighing 232 pounds..Coookieeee CRUMBLE~! Double C(ookie) C(rumble)music*The techno blasts out…and Synthy looks like she’s cringing as if memories of a dancing Lexi have resurfaced. Then the 39th second hits, and the man who comes out makes her jaw drop out of surprise.* Tom: There’s no way… Jeannie: Holy smokes! Tom: This ought to be interesting, considering he was one of her trainers… Jeannie: I suddenly want to learn to wrestle now. Naked. Tom: Subtle. *The man has walked out wearing a white shirt with a purple vest over it. His tie is white with a purple Chocolate Chips Ahoy design. His pants are purple with white spirals – going into each spiral are more Chips Ahoy symbols. He grins at his opponent, smoothing over his shaved head as he raises an arm.*Crowd: HEEEEY~! *After all, Cookie Crumble is a man that seems to be… “Very European”. If one could see Jeannie’ face, she looks ready to jump into the ring to ‘learn’ herself.*Tom: This will be an interesting Student vs Teacher match-up. *The bell rings, and Synthy and “Cookie” seize each other up. Synthy goes for a lock up- but steps back and flexes, showing off well-defined arms. Her teacher nods his approval- only for Synthy to chuckle for a moment and dropkick him in the midsection. She hits a swift knee to his face, and goes for another sidekick to his hamstring- only to be caught midkick and flipped backward. She lands on her feet and goes for an elbow- only for him to spin her around and throw her to the ropes. She bounces back toward him and gets caught in a sunset flip pin!1 2- kick out. They lock up, Crumble with the obvious power advantage over his former student. He’s pushing her to the ropes again. However, Cookie takes the moment to lift her up via grasping her forearms. Synthy struggles for a moment, but gets clever with her legs. Pulling her lower body up quickly, she hooks her left leg behind his head and places her right knee directly into his face. Jeannie: Scariest ninja ever. Tom: She’s just clever with her leg play. Jeannie: If that man wants clever leg play for his students, I’ve got just the moves he’s looking for… Tom: *A loud palm connecting with a forehead can be heard* *Claud- Cookie’s fallen backward with Synthy’s knee still connected against his nose. She takes the moment to swing her left leg out in front of her with her hands on the outside of that, and swiftly moves into facial knee strikes. On the third one, Crumble grabs her by the shirt and pulls her off. He quickly resumes his upright position, and they stand off. Synthy charges- but Crumble sidesteps her, grabs her around the waist and hits a delayed vertical suplex! He goes for a pin.*1 2- *Synthy drives a forearm into his back. Crumble stands and grabs her around the legs lifting her body into an odd predicament into the air. He begins to turn… and Synthy’s hair goes flying as she gets stuck in the middle of a big swing!*Jeannie: And now I need to be sick. I can’t even stand merry-go-rounds… Tom: Does this mean I can broadcast by myself? –There’s a sadly hopeful tone to his voice- Jeannie: I’m going to swallow just to spite you. *Long pause* Jeannie: HAHAHA~! Tom: Why me? *Cookie’s swing suddenly gets pulled to a stop as he releases. Synthy skids into a landing against a turnbuckle. Crumble shakes his head, shaking off his own sense of dizziness before walking calmly over to his student, grabbing her ankle, and dragging her away from the turnbuckle. He looks at her before ascending the nearest ring post- and goes for an Elbow from the Alps!
Synthy rolls out of the way!Tom: Swift possum thinking from the fuchsia haired woman! Jeannie: I hope she doesn’t hear you compare her to a marsupial. .. What am I saying? SYNTHY! HE JUST CALLED YOU A RODE~!!” *Tom has apparently slammed a hand over his broadcast partner’s mouth, being rather afraid of the intense Heavyweight Championship contender. She kicks CC in the back before pausing for a second.*[/i] Tom: That look terrifies me. Jeannie: Yufanhaftehlockerum *Even with the fear/awe in Tom’s voice, he keeps a hand over Jeannie’s mouth.* * Synthy goes for a most unorthodox move. Grabbing CC’s lower half, she applies a rather grounded stretch muffler, but then quickly squirms her position so that her legs wrap around CC’s neck in a headscissors lock! The twist of her body proves she has a quite a reserve of flexibility- and CC doesn’t exactly look too happy about it as he grabs his head to attempt avoidance of tapping.*Tom: I think this is a move adapted from another time in Synthy’s life- The Chaos Factor! Jeannie: Owwai *Cookie is too far from the ropes to grasp a hold. He has no way out of the move and his body is being stretched to quite unconventional ways, and with a yell, his hand hits the mat rapidly. The referee sees this, and calls for the bell.*Finkel: Here is your winner, via submission, Synth-y…ER-IS! *Synthy breaks her hold, and breathes a luxurious lungful of air. She bends backward with a loud popping noise, then stands straight and offers her former teacher a hand up. He waves her hand away- but then stands up and grabs her into a hug that sends her stiffening and off her feet. He sets her down, and Synthy has a half grin on her face. She tells him something, prompting a smile and a response from him. He pats her on the back and raises her arm into the air.*Crowd: HEEEY~! Tom: Something tells me this isn’t the end of these two having bouts in W*I*G*, hopefully. OWW! SON OF A *It seems Jeannie got a bit of revenge for not being able to talk the latter half of the match. A loud crunching noise could be heard.* *The tone suddenly changes as a promo for the W*I*G World Heavyweight Championship “I Quit” Dog Collar match appears on the W*I*G* Tron. Synthy’s semi-relaxed face suddenly turns into one of extreme seriousness. CC seems to tell her good luck, and nods at her hardened expression before the match changes over to commercials.*
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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 15, 2009 20:36:50 GMT -5
Bailey: Well folks, upcoming, we have the first W*I*G* Undisputed Women's Championship defense, after Rosie obtained the title by defeating Ykaterina Milasonova to unify the belts. Lawless: Damn fix if you ask me. I'd take a masked ugly women over the ugly unmasked women. Finkel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall... and it is for the W*I*G* Undisputed Women's Championship! This odd little ditty picks up on the Colvintron, the crowd looking on in utter confusion once more. They await to see exactly who is coming out, until they see a rather strange average looking woman bounce out from the backstage, sporting short spiky bleach blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a pair of red rosy cheeks, literally painted to appear like so. She is clad in a white halter neck with pink polka dots scattered all about, a bright pink skirt, with more white polka dots decorating it all over and white wrestling boots with pink lace. She grabs her belly and lets out a loud laugh from atop the ramp way. She then starts to bounce down the ramp way and towards the ring. The crowd just watches on, giving a few polite cheers as she heads down. The woman then hops atop the ring apron and stifles a light giggle, before stepping over the ropes and slipping inside the ring. She then reaches down and rips off mini skirt with a smirk, revealing a set of pink and white polka dotted short wrestling trunks. She then holds her hands over at her mouth, having caught sight of the referee, now going into another fit of laughter. The official simply looks on with a rather... puzzled expression, before quickly turning his attention away from her. Finkel: Introducing the challenger, from Happy Valley, Oregon, weighing in at 143 pounds, Grace Giggler! Bailey: Well... an interesting challenger we have here. Lawless: Where the hell are Jett and Reynaldo getting these freaks from?! Bailey: The loony bin perhaps? The aforementioned Grace immediately begins chortling once more, perhaps from hearing her own name. She then bounces over to her side of the ring and giggles to herself all the while. She then quickly turns around, looking on with a goofy grin out towards the ramp way, curious to see who her opponent is. She doesn't have to wait long, as the entrance ramp suddenly becomes bathed in a bight golden light, the crowd booing loudly in response. Soon enough, the undisputed W*I*G* Women's champion stomps out from the back, a huge sneer on her face. She has the former GND belt dangling from around her neck, while the W*I*G* Women's title is simply worn from around her rather sizable waist. The crowd continues to jeer the champion, who simply stomps down past them towards the ring, cracking her neck from side to side while she does so, as well as taking a moment to crack her knuckles as well. The booing continues, as she quickly slides inside the ring. Grace immediately bounces forward, now looking on curiously at the champion, who quickly gets to her feet and flashes a scowl of pure annoyance in her opponent's direction. Finkel: And her opponent, representing the Innocent, from the Land of Purity, weighing in at 200 pounds, she is the Undisputed W*I*G* Women's Champion, Rosie! Lawless: And here comes that hideous bitch once more. Surprised she got that belt to fit on her flabby waist. Bailey: Probably got a belt extender. But waist size aside, this woman has proved time and again to be very resilient and very dangerous in the ring. Especially against smaller opponents. Lawless: Got a point there Tommy. Bailey: Don't call me that. Rosie simply slams her fist into her palm, licking her lips with an almost hungry look in her eyes. She then removes those belts in her possession, holding them both up in one arm each, hoisting them high above her head, only to quickly yank them back down and sling them over one shoulder each. She pats the plates of each and looks on with pure sickening arrogance, before removing the belts and shoving them into the official's grasp. She then looks right back at Grace in the ring, just as the bell sounds As soon as it does, Grace starts laughing her ass off for some reason, holding her stomach doubled over in laughter as if her proverbial sides are splitting. Rosie looks on with a rather... annoyed look on her face, watching on as this very insane woman continues to chuckle like a moron. Rosie walks right up to this guffawing goof, then starts laughing herself! The crowd just watches on in confusion, Grace meanwhile noticing her opponent and laughing even harder herself! She then reaches back and pats Rosie right across her back with a huge grin. The women's champion simply laughs herself, reaching back and patting her across her own smaller shoulders. Grace simply continues snickering like a hyena, about to fall over from the looks of things. Rosie then snickers herself, reaching to slap her opponent on the back once more, only to stop in mid motion, instead motioning with her other arm and taking Grace's head off with a sickening one armed Lariat! Bailey: Well, the fun's over now. Rosie, feigning laughter, then clobbering her opponent with one of her effective lariats. Lawless: Good night Giggler. Grace gets knocked for a loop, landing hard on the mat and grasping her neck in pain, no longer laughing obviously. Rosie then scoops her up atop her shoulders with ease, looking on once more with an absolutely furious expression, before powering her opponent back down into the mat with a Fireman's Carry DDT! Grace lands in a heap, grasping even further at her throat. Rosie then steps over and drops down, immediately clinching on the Fury Grasp and throttling the life out of Grace Giggler! The woman looks on in horror, eyes going wide, before she immediately begins tapping out! Finkel: Here is your winner... and still the W*I*G* Undisputed Women's Champion, Rosie! Lawless: And to think, I left my stopwatch at home. That could NOT have been a full minute. Bailey: First Coltrane with that... whatisname and now Rosie with... Grace Giggler. Lawless: Hey, a defense is a defense. Rosie immediately rises back up to her feet, looking down at her opponent and letting a loud uproarious laugh of her own, the crowd booing loudly as she does so. Then in the middle of her laughing fit, she delivers a vicious boot right to the face of the fallen Giggler, sending her tumbling outside of the ring and landing with a thud. Rosie's expressions immediately sours once more, as she slips back out of the ring, snatching both of her titles back up and slinging them once again across her shoulders to the crowd's disgust. She then rolls back into the ring with a sickening sneer, stomping over and snatching Finkel's microphone from his bare hands, then shoving him down to the canvas. The crowd boos even louder, as she looks on with pride, having made her latest title defense. Rosie: Yeah... I know, I know. It ain't easy bein humble like I is But when you've been graced like I have with all this talent an such, and unlike this bitch I just clobbered, you got the right to brag just a little. After all, I'm the strongest damn bitch in this entire promotion. I don't care what that Synthy bitch says. Sure, she did a hell of a job against Coltrane, but the fact is... she lost! Don't matter how much talent you have, a loser is nothing but a loser. If you can't snatch that brass ring when it dangles down before ya, you're a nothing. A nobody! A neverwas! If it had been me who faced ol Coltrane, you better believe it'd be me walking out as not only the undisputed W*I*G* Women's Champeen, but... the Undisputed Singles Champeen of alla W*I*G*! And why stop there? Those Redneck Pig Humpers ain't got nothing on me either, don't matter who they train their asses with. Hell, I bet I could enter that whole gauntlet match all by my lonesome and beat the everliving shit out of everyone of those teams! Don't matter who it is! Rosie is the biggest, baddest, toughest, strongest, ugliest, nastiest, and toughest woman that this whole damn arena has seen and ever will see! The crowd boos quite loudly at these remarks, Rosie meanwhile flashing a sickening smirk on her less than appealing mug. She simply continues to bask in this anger of the crowd. Bailey: Definitely quite the... "humble champeen." Lawless: Who the hell does she think she is, insulting those Southern Stallions of mine?! Bailey: Well, you know Rosie. She insults anyone and everyone. Excluding the Innocent of course. Lawless: Well duh. Rosie: Ya see, I've beaten every whore that this promotion has ta offer. The roidmonkey bitch, the Andy Duke floozy bitch, the happy mopey bitch, the Commie bitch, and don't matter what she says, that masked bitch never beat me! No matter what she says, I walked out with the title and she didn't. So in my book, that makes me the winner and her the losing skank! But apparently... that ain't enough for these new stooges Colvin has running this joint. Ya see, apparently they wanna put me in some wacky ass match, with nine other whores. Who tha HELL are they to hand out the title shots? I say who gets a shot at my belt and who doesn't! No dumbass empty headed maroon is gonna say otherwise! But hell, we're already here... and I ain't one to back down from a challenge, so I'd be more than happy to stomp right through each and every one of these women you decide to put up against me. You wanna try and take the belt from the best damn competitor in W*I*G*?! I'd laugh my ass off to see you weaklings try! You wanna have your careers all ended one by one? Fine by me! Rosie here is gonna show each and everyone of these sluts why she is the CHAMP! Show em why she is the QUEEN! And show each and everyone of you that I AM THE BEST DAMN... Suddenly, the Colvintron screen lights up, the crowd cheers loudly in response. Rosie immediately stops speaking, now noticing the two familiar faces now present before her own. Her once proud expression immediately twists into an annoyed scowl, the champion slowly folding her arms as she gazes up towards them. Lawless: Oh thank god somebody shut her up. Bailey: It seems we have an appearance being made by that of Jett Ripley and Reynaldo Fernandez. Wonder what they have to say... Rosie: And what the HELL do you two goons want?! *Reynaldo Fernandez grins, his arms folded as he sits at what is presumably his desk.* Reynaldo: I must warn you to cool off...raising your voice towards us isn't the best decision. Especially since we have some news for you--and the W*I*G roster and audience! Rosie's expression grows a bit more flustered, but she reluctantly nods and composes herself. Jett meanwhile is seen sitting nearby, located as well behind his own desktop, nodding in agreement with his fellow co-GM. Jett: Indeed we do. Well, shall you tell them General or would you prefer that I let the cat out of the bag? Reynaldo: What cat do you speak of? If you mean the first of our Attrition announcements...go ahead! I shall explain the second one. Jett: Well certainly. Well, this one will interest you, Miss Rosie. I'm sure you've been wondering exactly who you'll be facing at the next PPV. Not to worry though, you deserve to know what you are up against. Therefore, we are going to go ahead and let both you and the entire WIG Sphere and locker room know exactly who will be involved! Rosie looks on with interest now, as Jett is seen reaching for his reading glasses, slipping them onto his face, then pulling a list of some sort into view. Jett: First off, a woman who you should be very familiar with. The former GND Champion, Ykaterina Milasonova! The crowd cheers quite loudly for this selection, definitely wanting to see her get a second chance at the belt. Jett: A newcomer here in W*I*G*, but one that's shown promise since the first time she stepped into the ring... Lana De La Croix! The crowd cheers a bit less this time, though still rather noticeably. Jett: Everyone's favorite raver chick and a very hyperactive lass, Lexi Dyi...Dino...Lexi D! The crowd cheers loudly once more for this announcement as well! Jett: She was actually the first to volunteer... the old school Danny Taylor! The crowd reacts this time in a much more negative manner. Jett: She has officially been cleared to compete and is more than ready to accept this challenge... Japan's own Chick Aura! Rosie's eyes immediately widen slightly in fear, as the crowd boos this time name quite loudly as well. Jett: Another woman you know...quite well. The impressively powerful Fannie Package! Once again, the Women's Champions eyes widen, as a slightly annoyed scowl begins to twist upon her face. The crowd of course, cheers her name especially loudly. Jett: She hasn't been involved in the ring too much, but I figure she more than qualifies, a member of TNT... Talia Bell! The crowd boos once more, as Rosie's expression grows even more annoyed, definitely not liking most of these choices. Jett: She just came off victory in a hellacious Japanese Death match and is arguably the toughest woman in W*I*G* today, BR Juri Sadamoto! The women's champion immediately grows even more aggravated, nasty teeth gritting together, as the crowd lets out an explosive cheer! Jett: And last... but not least, just because it's no fun if you give everything away before the show... one more MYSTERY opponent! One that we have just signed as part of our new talent initiative! Now then, you know who your opponents are Rosie, so I would suggest you vacate the ring and prepare for them. Enjoy! Rosie looks on with a furious expression, before quickly gathering up both of her belts, then making a swift exit out of the ring. She then stomps up the ramp way to a cheering crowd, happy to see her go obviously, before disappearing once more behind the curtain. Reynaldo: That's all for you, angry young woman, but we also have news about another championship of ours! As I am sure you all now know after our previous announcement, the White Boys will be competing against a gauntlet of tag opponents. But since we're in the spirit of revealing entrants, I shall take the liberty to name all of the opponents who will be featured in the W*I*G World Tag Team gauntlet match! Where shall I begin...ahem... *he begins reading from a list of his own* Reynaldo: A team of two young ruffians, who are, like myself, proud of their Iberian origins...the Latin Lovers! The crowd cheers loudly, as the general nods in confirmation. Reynaldo: Their current arch-rivals, two men who think quite highly of themselves and have the mouths to speak those thoughts...James Bon Jovi and The Maxx! The crowd boos at a volume equal to their cheers, in a strange inverse of their previous reaction. Reynaldo: A team that has kept a current low profile in W*I*G but hopes to strike high and rich with a tag title win in their debut...the Highland Diamonds! The crowd gives a mixed reaction of boos and cheers, both of a respectable volume. Reynaldo: Twin brothers who have the apparent vocal backing of an entire "world"...The Superstars! The crowd suddenly goes silent from apathy. Reynaldo's eyes become shifty as he hurriedly attempts to change the pace. Reynaldo: Another team of brothers, both from Sweden and both with a love for dancing and the club life...The Johannsons! Boisterous cheers emanate from the crowd, as Reynaldo grins again and begins nodding. Reynaldo: A troupe of gregarious men from Brooklyn who know their fashion--or so they say--Paul's Boutique! The crowd cheers once again, but perhaps not quite as loud as their previous reaction. Reynaldo: An eccentric team on tour with TigerPath, but more than happy to answer the call for an opportunity at the W*I*G tag titles...Paul Rubix and Mutilant, Brash and Weird! The crowd gives another reaction of cheers, not all too dissimilar from the previous. Reynaldo: A blend of speed and power representing our very own stable from the Emerald Isle...Sean McCann and Shane Malone of Team Ireland! Like earlier on, the crowd reacts with a mixture of boos and cheers, though this one is a bit louder. Reynaldo: And lastly...the craziest men to have ever stepped foot into a W*I*G ring, as evidenced from their moves, their names, their look, and their wildly energized personality...Team Raft Shack! *The crowd reacts with nothing but loud cheers for the final team to be announced.* Reynaldo: And that completes this informational announcement to this audience and roster...and warning to you, White Boys. May this aid you in preparing for your title defense. Because with these teams...believe me...you'll need everything you can get. Jett: Well put my friend. And once again, good luck to each and everyone of you competing at our next event of Attrition. May you all put on a great display and give to us another successful W*I*G* production! The crowd cheers, indeed very happy with these announcements, as they applaud quite loudly for the majority of these decisions. Bailey: Did you hear that? Lawless; You bet I did. A match with the Latin Lovers, James Bon Jovi and The Maxx, The White Boys, and hell... even Sean McCann! This PPV can't come soon enough! Bailey: Well, to each their own. But you have to think that neither the White Boys nor Rosie can be too happy about this turn of events. I guess we'll see how everything goes down come Attrition. We quickly cut to commercial following this announcement.
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Post by Gigantor Maximus on Apr 18, 2009 15:56:47 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...* Archibald Barnes
You have the made the gravest error of your legendary career!
A career that will come to an end
At the unmerciful hands of
GIGANTOR MAXIMUS!
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BR Juri Sadamoto
Opener
Just your average, scarred Japanese-Irish American girl next door.
Broken Rose
Posts: 30
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Post by BR Juri Sadamoto on Apr 20, 2009 1:36:46 GMT -5
*Fade in to close up of someone's face just below the eye line as they stare off sideways from the camera. Deep red hair rests upon freshly stitched shoulders. Her mouth, flanked by fresh scratches and tiny stitches, twitches as it readies itself for what looks like deep thought. With a deep breath, nostrils flare and the mouth of what is obviously Juri Sadamoto opens.*
Juri: For so long now... My destiny... My fate has been decided by those around me. Whether it be in the distant past, former selves I was, or even right here in W*I*G... Free will was a concept that I've never actually thought about. My fate was not mine to own.
*She breathes in deeply as she rolls her neck.*
Juri: I was denied the chance to be the first women's champion of W*I*G even though I had been promised a chance. No. Instead I was condemned to my own personal hell of a sterile hospital room. The buzzing of light tubes, the healthy food covered in plastic on trays, and impersonal doctors. One person placed me there. That same person told me that I would never get my revenge. That she would never feel her comeuppance by my hand after she beat me in a very close match. That's when the final straw was placed. Someone could put me into a hospital, of their own free will, but yet I couldn't even be given a second chance at redemption? That's when I decided to forgo all the planned path that failures like Nostradamus set out. It was written that I would never get a chance at revenge. And I spat upon that paper when I dawned a mask to beat my attacker fairly.
*Her mouth smiles.*
Juri: And then I took control of my own future with my bare, scarred hands. Like a whip, I cracked it in another direction. Towards a match from which I've made all my names. Including one I loathe, but love at the same time. The Murder Princess of the Deathmatch.
*Her smile becomes a wicked grin.*
Juri: And there....
I bled almost two pints of blood...
I have over thirty stitches...
And I had to crawl out of bed with an extra hour tacked on.
*She shakes her head.*
Juri: But it was all worth it. I beat the hatred, the anger, the fury, and the revenge out of my opponent and left her broken. We went until we couldn't go anymore, when our bodies gave out on us. We only had our warrior's spirits to carry our living corpses the rest of the way. And in the end, I was left the victor. I was able to stand, holding this...
*She lifts up a broken, blood specked kendo stick handle.*
Juri: Like a Samurai, I held this weapon as if it was my ancestor's katana. And I struck down the embodiment of Predestination like it was a yokai of lore. Now, with my pathway clear there's only one thing to do.
*She bows her head, then lifts her striking eyes to the camera so only they are seen as she bores a hole into the camera.*
Juri: It's time to prove why I am one of the best women warriors on the planet. It is now eve in the time of Rosie's championship. My time, my fate is to be the next undisputed women's champion. I have proven that I will go far beyond what is humanly possible to win a match. And the baddest woman on the roster that even Rosie fears couldn't even taken me down. You, who are in the match, ask yourself if you are willing to go the extra mile to put me down. This isn't a beauty pageant where looks trumps heart. This is a match where the strong will survive. And be it orgesses, giants, scholars, or even family won't stop me. I'm done being on the sidelines. I'm done being just that person that lets everyone else be proclaimed the best the fed. Let it be clear, right here and now. I will not fade away out of the scene. And to win this match, you will have to beat me BACK into that PERSONAL HELL before I WILL ACCEPT DEFEAT.
*She pulls back, showing her hands gripping the wooden handle with white knuckles. The jade orbs that are her pupils burn with a unrelenting fire.*
Juri: Now more than ever, if you think you've seen everything I can do... You just don't know what I'm CAPABLE of!
*Fade out as she stares back, downward at the kendo stick painted with Chick Aura's blood.*
“...and nor do I...”
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Post by sigmafan on Apr 21, 2009 18:24:14 GMT -5
*Vile is backstage and is heading into a dark door in the hallway, which is found out to be the locker room of the Innocent. She enters and is immediately seen by Joshua.*
Joshua: Hi partner, what are you doing here in the Innocent's lair?
Vile: You know the old saying, I'll scratch your back and you'll scratch mine?
Joshua: Yes.
Vile: Well, here's the deal. Two pathetic trolls named Lily-Rose and Tanya Flaire are looking to take me out with a couple of guitars. What I need is a partner to help take out these two pieces of work.
Joshua: Well, I don't know. It's up to the Keeper and I don't know about going after some ladies and they haven't done anything to me. So, I don't know.
*an ominous prescence enters the room. Shadow-like in form, Joshua immediately knows him.*
Joshua: Our great leader.
Keeper: Vile, Joshua, I have taken a look at these two. They are in need of some serious guidance. And I want you two to guide them. Take them on and show them no mercy.
Joshua: Yes, Great Leader.
Vile: Good, that's all I needed.
Keeper: Vile, don't let me or anybody else down. Show those two hethans no mercy. Because if you let me and the Innocent down, you knwo what happens.
Vile: Right.
Keeper: Good, now begone. Both of you. I have some more plans to take care of.
*Vile leaves the room and JOshua starts training on the heavy bag. The keeper fades off into the shadows*
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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 22, 2009 21:55:29 GMT -5
*We open on a bedroom in Isaiah “Pitbull” Jefferson’s house. The White Boys are sleeping on twin beds in the room. They each have on University of Alabama sleep pants. Suddenly, Pitbull bursts into the room. He’s wearing a black track suit and white sneakers. He’s also holding a riding crop and a foghorn and blasts it. The loud noise wakes the White Boys up.*
Jason: JESUS CHRIST!!!!
Justin: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!!!
*Pitbull walks over to the space between the beds and slaps the shit out of the White Boys with the riding crop.*
Jason: SON OF A BITCH!!!!
Justin: STOP IT!!!!
Pitbull: How many times must I tell ya boys!? DON’T YOU DARE EVA TAKE DA LORD’S NAME IN VAIN AGAIN!!!!
Jason: Sorry, Pitbull. We’re just tired.
*Jason lies back down. Suddenly, Pitbull slaps him on the stomach with the riding crop. Jason jumps up.*
Jason: Dammit!
Pitbull: Boy, get yo’ ass up! We got more trainin’ to do!
Justin: But, we’ve been trainin’ fer the past week or so! Can’t we take a rest day!?
Pitbull: *slaps Justin across the face with the crop* Hell naw!!!! No, get yo’ ass up and dressed! We gotta stretch first!
Jason: Oh, shit!
*We cut to outside Pitbull’s house. Jason and Justin are now dressed in white T-shirts, crimson sweat pants, and sneakers. They are both tied up into this weird looking stretching contraption in a spread eagle position. They both look to be in terrible pain. Pitbull walks up to them, still holding the riding crop. However, he’s replaced the foghorn with a bullhorn.*
Pitbull: How does that feel boys!?
Jason: Dammit!!!! I hate ya, Pitbull!
Pitbull: Ah, ya love me, an’ ya know it! *slaps Jason in the stomach with the crop*
Justin: Why do we hafta be in this thingy!? Can’t we just stretch ourselves!?
Pitbull: *walks over to Justin and slaps him several times in the stomach with the crop* Boy, doncha my methods! Ya do what I say when I say it, understan’!?
Justin: Yes!
Pitbull: Now, I’m gonna go get my ATV. When I get back, I’ll let y’all out; an’ we’ll do our run aroun’ da lake. *walks off*
*We cut to a wooded area near Lake Martin a few feet from Pitbull’s house. Pitbull is sitting on a yellow ATV and is holding a map. Jason and Justin are standing next to Pitbull.*
Pitbull: Okay, we’re here *pointing to the spot on the map where they currently are*, an’ we wanna be here *pointing to a spot on the map five miles from where they are*. I’m gonna drive on ahead, an’ y’all got ten minutes ta run five miles. If ya ain’t there in ten minutes, I’m gonna come get yo’ ass! Understan’?
Justin: Yes sir.
Jason: We got ya.
Pitbull: Good! See ya in ten minutes! *drives off*
Justin: I’m beginnin’ to thank this wasn’t such a good idea!
Jason: Oh, shut up an’ get runnin’!
*They both start running. We cut to ten minutes later. Pitbull is standing at the spot he and the White Boys are suppose to rendezvous at the end of their five mile run. He still has that riding crop. He looks at his watch. Then, he looks up and looks around for Jason and Justin. Just then, Jason runs up. He looks exhausted and is sweating buckets. He runs up to Pitbull.*
Jason: Made it!
Pitbull: Where in da Sam Hill is yo’ brotha!?
Jason: *looks around* What da hell!? He was right behin’ me!
Pitbull: Oh, that no good, lazy summabitch!!!!
Jason: Wait! *pointing out to the woods* There he is!
*Justin comes running up to Pitbull and Jason. He also looks exhausted and is sweating profusely as well.*
Pitbull: Where da hell were you!? Why didn’t ya sho’ up wit yo’ brotha!?
Justin: I had ta a bathroom break! That big breakfast we ate finally went through me.
Pitbull: Oh. I’m sorry.
Justin: It’s alright. *scratches his butt*
Pitbull: Boy! Didn’t yo’ momma teach ya any manners!?
Justin: *still scratching his butt* I can’t help it! My ass itches!
Pitbull: Well, stop it!
Jason: So, what’s next?
Pitbull: Just wait, okay.
Justin: *still scratching his butt* Hey! Where’s the ATV?
Pitbull: I had a friend of mine come and get it. She’s gonna drive back and pick us up.
Justin: *still scratching his butt* She!?
Pitbull: Yes, she! I can has female friends! An’, scratching yo’ butt!!!!
*Suddenly, Pitbull’s female friend drives up in red Cadillac. The car stops, and the woman gets out. She is a white woman of average height, a little chubby with black hair and blue eyes. She is wearing a yellow track suit. The woman walks over to Pitbull, and he puts his arm around her.*
Pitbull: Jason, Justin, say hello to Nancy.
Nancy: Hi.
Jason: Ma’am.
Justin: Hello. Why aren’t you just da cutest thang?
Nancy: Why, thank you.
Justin: And, I mean it. Hell, you’re cute enough ta eat, darlin’.
*Nancy laughs.*
Pitbull: Hey! Knock it off, man! This is mah girl!
Justin: Sorry.
Jason: So, she’s givin’ us a ride back to your house.
Pitbull: Well, sorta.
Jason: Sorta!? Whut does that mean!?
Pitbull: It means that me an’ her are gonna ride in da car, an’ y’all are gonna push us back to mah house.
Jason: WHAT!?
Justin: Are ya crazy, Pitbull!?
Pitbull: Hell naw! This is mah trainin’ course! Y’all wanted it! Now, ya gonna get it! Now, get yo’ asses behin’ this damn car and start pushin’!
*Pitbull starts slapping their butts with the crop. Both men jump up and run to the back of the car. Pitbull and Nancy get into the car. Nancy puts the car into neutral.*
Nancy: Okay, it’s in neutral! Start pushin’!
*The White Boys start pushing the car.*
Pitbull: So, what ya doin’ later tonight, girl?
Nancy: Nothin’.
Pitbull: Well, since ya doin’ nothin’, why don’cha come over?
Nancy: Okay. Ya want me to bring some friends for the boys?
Pitbull: Hell naw! They need sexual frustration ta keep them angry an’ take it out on their opponents.
*The camera pans back to the White Boys pushing the car. Justin keeps scratching his butt at times.*
Jason: Oh God! I forgot how tough Pitbull could be!
Justin: *scratches his butt* Ya tellin’ me.
Jason: Quit scratchin’ ya butt!
Justin: I can’t help it!
*We cut to back Pitbull’s house several minutes from when we last saw the White Boys and Pitbull. They are both holding shovels and using them to lift up two big tires. The tires fall to the ground, and the White Boys lift them up again. Pitbull is standing behind him, yelling at them with his bullhorn and holding that riding crop..*
Pitbull: C’mon!!!! Lift those tires up!!!!
Justin: *scratching his butt and then lifting his tire up with his shovel* Can’t we take a break!?
Pitbull: No!!!! An’, quit scratching yo’ butt!!!! *whips Justin with that riding crop*
Justin: Hey man!!!!
Pitbull: Get ta liftin’!!!!
*The White Boys lift up the tires with their shovels, let them fall to the ground, and do it all over again. Jason steps onto something brown. He stops, lifts his foot up, and looks at it.*
Jason: Aw hell! I done step in dog crap!
Pitbull: Really!? *walks over to Jason and looks at the dog crap on his shoe* Damn! That sucks. GET BACK TO LIFTIN’! *slaps Jason’s leg with his crop*
Jason: Son of a bitch!
*We cut to a few minutes later. Pitbull is in a truck with a large metal contraption attached to it. It has two long metal poles sticking out horizontally in front of the truck. On the poles are two punching backs. The White Boys are standing in front of the punching backs, punching and kicking them as Pitbull slowly drives the truck forward. They are both moving around backwards as the truck moves forward. Pitbull is yelling at them from the truck with his bullhorn.*
Pitbull: C’mon!!!! Punch! Kick! Show ‘em who’s boss, ya bastards!
Jason: Goddamn! *breaths heavily* I’m gonna…pass out.
Justin: Don’t…do that…*scratches his butt* Pitbull…will just…wake ya up…an’ run ya even harder!
Pitbull: QUIT SCRATCHING YO’ BUTT, JUSTIN!!!!
Justin: I can’t help it!
Pitbull: I will break yo’ han’ if ya don’t stop it!!!!
*We cut to the White Boys jogging down to Lake Martin. Pitbull is following them on his ATV and yelling at them with his bullhorn. They run onto a dock and eventually stop at the end of it. Jason and Justin lie down on the dock. Pitbull stops his ATV next to a big boat and gets off.*
Pitbull: C’mon! Get up!
Jason: Can’t we rest…just fer a minute…please…fer da love of God!?
Pitbull: Whatever! Pussies! *walks over to the boat* Nancy! NANCY!!!!
*Nancy walks out of the cabin of the boat.*
Nancy: You don’t have ta yell! Jeez!
Pitbull: Well, answer me when I yell, dammit! Now, *to Jason and Justin* y’all two are gonna get up, jump inta da lake, an’ swim across. Me an’ Nancy will be right by ya on her boat!
*Jason and Justin jump up.*
Jason: WHAT!?
Justin: *scratching his butt* ARE YA INSANE!!!!?
Pitbull: Don’cha go complainin’ ta me! Y’all said that y’all wanted me ta push y’all ta yo’ limits! Y’all wanted me ta break y’all so that y’all would be tough enough to be those team y’all are gonna hafta face at Attrition! Now, GET YO’ ASSES INTA DA GODDAMN LAKE!!!!
*Pitbull slaps both White Boys on their butts with the crop. They both jump up and quickly jump into the lake.*
Pitbull: Lord almighty! Them’s some lazy summabitches!
*We cut to Nancy’s boat sailing on the lake with the boys swimming next to them. They are halfway across the lake. Pitbull is sitting on the boat, drinking a beer, and yelling at Jason and Justin as they swim.*
Pitbull: STROKE! STROKE! STROKE!
Jason: WE’RE NOT ROWIN’! QUIT YELLIN’ STROKE!!!!
Pitbull: Don’cha tell me what ta do, boy! I’ll jump inta that lake an’ drown yo’ ass! *takes a sip of his beer*
*Justin scratches his butt as he swims.*
Pitbull: That goes fer you two, Justin, if ya scratch yo’ goddamn butt one more time!!!!
Justin: I can’t help it! My butt itches!!!!
*We cut to Nancy’s boat docked at the other end of the lake. The White Boys swim up to the lake and tread water. Pitbull and Nancy exit the boat and walk over to the end of the dock. Pitbull puts down his bullhorn and crop. Jason and Justin reach their hands out to Pitbull, and he pulls them out of the water. Nancy is holding two towels and hands them to Jason and Justin. They dry off. Pitbull picks up the bullhorn and riding crop.*
Pitbull: Now, how do ya boys feel?
Jason: Like hell!
Justin: I feel like I got swallowed by a giant an’ was crapped out several days later.
Pitbull: Good! Now, it’s time fer y’all ta spar wit some rasslers!
Jason: Ya want us ta rassle wit after the hell ya put us through!?
Pitbull: Hell yeah! *puts the bullhorn to his mouth and stars yelling from it* NOW GET YO’ ASS OVA TA THAT DAMN RASSLIN’ RANG!!!!
*Pitbull slaps both Jason and Justin with the crop. They run across the dock and up a hill. Pitbull and Nancy follow them. We cut to the top of the hill. On the hill is a wrestling ring. In the ring are two men, both white, very muscular, with black hair and blue eyes, and wearing a black track suit pants and white wifebeaters. The White Boys come running up with Pitbull and Nancy behind them. They run up to the ring and stop.*
Pitbull: Well! What are ya waitin’ fer!? Git in there and rassle. Justin: *scratching his butt* Let’s us catch our breath first! Jeeze!
Pitbull: Fine. An’, STOP SCRATCHIN’ YO’ BUTT!!!! *slaps Justin with the crop*
Justin: I can’t help it!
*We cut to the White Boys in the ring. They charge at their sparring partners and tie. Then, we cut to Jason hitting his partner with a European uppercut. We cut to Justin hitting his partner with a knife-edge chop. We cut to Jason hitting his partner with a Lou Thesz press followed by multiple punches. We cut to Justin locking his partner into a full nelson and then hitting him with a full nelson slam. We cut to Jason locking his partner into a cobra clutch. We cut to Justin climbing up to the top rope and hitting his partner with a diving crossbody. We cut to Jason hitting his partner with a muscle buster. We cut to Justin hitting his partner with a leg lariat. We cut to Jason hitting his partner with the 2nd Amendment (Throat first flapjack onto the top rope). We cut to Justin hitting his partner with Auburn Sucks (Saito suplex). We cut to Jason hitting his partner with In The Land Of Cotton (Three-quarter nelson suplex). We cut to Justin hitting his partner with Air Alabama (Springboard diving clothesline). We cut to Jason locking his partner into the Birmingham Lock (Reverse figure four leglock). We cut to Justin hitting his partner with the White Boy Stomp (Slingshot double foot stomp). We cut to Jason hitting his partner with the Alabama Driller (Double underhook piledriver). We cut to Justin hitting his partner with the Yellowhammer (Cut-throat inverted Death Valley driver). We cut to Jason catapulting one of the men into a dropkick from Justin. We cut to Jason and Justin hitting the other man with a double STO. We cut to Jason and Justin hitting the other man with the Flying Elephant (Jason picks up an opponent for a dominator and holds him, and then Justin jumps over the rope and lands on the opponents neck with an elbow drop.). We cut to Jason and Justin hitting the other guy with Pickin’ Cotton (Total Elimination). We cut to Jason and Justin hitting the other man with Southern Hospitality (Cut-throat inverted Death Valley driver (Justin)/Diving leg drop (Jason) combination). We cut to Jason and Justin hitting the other guy with The Confederates’ Revenge (Uppercut (Jason) followed by a leg lariat (Justin) followed by a jawbreaker (Jason) followed by a jumping big boot (Justin) and finished with a reverse STO (Jason)). We cut to Jason hitting his partner with the Alabama Twister (Inverted tornado DDT), and then Jason and Justin hit him with the South Will Rise Again (Jason picks up the opponent for a holding suplex, Justin jumps up with his knees onto the opponent’s stomach, and they hit the opponent with a front suplex/modified double knee chestbreaker.) We cut to Justin hitting his partner with The Crimson Tide (grabs the opponent by his hair with his left hand, pulls him down slightly, jumps up, and drops his right elbow onto the opponent’s neck, taking him down to the mat, sometimes done elevated from the top or second rope or turnbuckle), and then they hit him with the South Will Rise Again.*
Pitbull: *clapping* Outstandin’!!!!
*Jason and Justin walk over to the ropes. Nancy hands them their towels, and they wipe the sweat off their heads and bodies.*
Pitbull: Y’all look like y’all are ready ta fight da whole wide world!
Jason: Well, that’s funny. Cause I feel like I just fought the whole wide world!
Pitbull: Well, a few mo’ days of trainin’ an’ exercizin’, y’all will be ready to successfully defen’ yo’ W*I*G World Tag Team Titles!
Justin: *scratching his butt* Thanks, Pitbull!
Pitbull: Jesus Christ! Whut is wrong wit ya, boy!? Will ya quit SCRATCHIN’ YO’ BUTT!!!!?
Justin: *scratching his butt* I CAN’T HELP IT!!!! I thank somethin’ bit me on da butt!
Jason: What are ya talkin’ about!?
Justin: *scratching his butt* Ever since I relieved mahself durin’ our first run, mah butt has been itchin’ up a storm!
Jason: Wait a minute…when ya relieved yaself, did ya do numba 1 or numba 2?
Justin: *scratching his butt* I took a dump.
Jason: Man, ya’re so charmin’! Anyway, whut didja wipe yo’ ass wit?
Justin: *scratching his butt* Leaves! They’re ain’t no toilet paper in da woods! Duh!
Jason: Now, these leaves, were they on a tree or a vine?
Justin: *scratching his butt* They were on a tree…no wait! They were on a vine that was on a tree!
Jason: Were there three leaves on this vine?
Justin: *scratching his butt* Um…*thinks about it for a few seconds* yeah! Yeah! There were three leaves on a vine! How didja know that!?
*Suddenly, Pitbull busts out laughing. Jason and Nancy join it. Even the two sparring wrestlers start laughing.*
Justin: *scratching his butt* Whut!? Whut’s so funny!?
Pitbull: *laughing* Ya stupid summabitch! Ya done wiped yo’ ass with poison ivy!
Justin: POISON IVY!!!!? SON OF A BITCH!!!!
*Justin jumps out of the ring and starts running to the boat.*
Nancy: Where’s he runnin’ to?
Pitbull: Who knows?
*We cut to commercial.*
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Fannie Package
Local Talent
W*I*G* Women's Champion
Bigger is Better!
Posts: 21
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Post by Fannie Package on Apr 24, 2009 14:29:35 GMT -5
INTERIOR- A GYM NEAR THE W*I*G-SPHERE
*We see a huge set of weights being lifted up & down, presumably being bench-pressed. Then a thick Cajun accent speaks over the clanking noise of the weights.*
Lana: Look, Ah ‘preciate the offah, but really, Ah'll be fine.
*We pull back to see Lana de la Croix standing over a weight bench. She helps Fannie Package to set a barbell back onto the rack again. Lana is dressed in what appears to be her high school cheerleading sweats—the shorts bear the legend “SBL Catholic High School,” and the t-shirt has a faded but still visible image of a mountain lion. Fannie is wearing a sky-blue Gold's Gym top stretched out over her pecs, a pair of black shorts which fit her heavily muscled thighs like spandex, and a black hair-band and scrunchie keeping her frizzy hair tied back. Fannie sits up on the bench. She walks over to a nearby full-length mirror, admiring her physique. Her biceps bulge, her stomach is taut, her pectorals are like granite. While flexing and checking herself out, she speaks to Lana without looking over at her.*
Fannie: No offense, Lana, but no, you won't. Look, I've been in the ring with Rosie. There's no way you could handle her; besides, have you seen who else is in that match? Danny Taylor's sadistic. She beat the hell out of Maeve O'Hare for God's sake. Lexi's damn insane and that chick from TNT is bound to have something up her sleeve! You've had one match, which you lost...
Lana: *visibly stung* Yes, b’cause yo’ winnin' recawd is somet’in’ to be braggin' 'bout. Y'lost ta Rosie AND y'lost ta Earnest!
Fannie: Hey, I did my damnedest out there. If those damn people could keep their noses out of each other's matches...
*Lana’s normally pale face flushes with indignation and she glares up at the larger woman with all the anger she can muster. She’s obviously nervous of angering Fannie, however, and when the two are so close to one another, it’s obvious why: Lana looks like nothing so much as a china doll compared with the impressively built Fannie, and if Fannie chose to get physical, Lana would have only her speed to protect her. Nonetheless, Lana plucks her courage for one last barb…*
Lana: Well, dat sound like yo’ own problem. Ah wouldn’ t’ink a big, strong woman like you’d have enny problem winnin’ de women’s title, bu’ Ah guess you ain’t as tough as you like at t’ink, den…
*Chaz Stone enters dressed in a tie-dyed tank top and light blue basketball shorts, above scuffed white crosstrainers and black-striped gym socks. As Fannie begins haranguing Lana again, Chaz raises his voice above the ladies volume.*
Chaz: HAEY! Ladies, ladies, calm doown, will ye? We’re a uni' here, a'righ'? Fannie, there’s nae reason fer you to be so condescendin' ta Lana. Lana, there's no nee' ta be so defensive. We are suppose' ta be a team, even i' some o' us aren' actin' like it.
Fannie: Wait... Chaz, are you actually annoyed by my decision to enter the match for the Women's Title? You know that's...
Chaz: Loo', we been gainin' alo' o' ground as a Tag-Team. I jus' wanted to get in there and prove tha' we could be the Tag-Team Champions. No' that Aye've much to worry abou', I'll be busy enough wi' that wee shite Aidan Donnelly at Attrition.
Fannie: I was frozen out of contention after the last time I faced Rosie. This is my chance to prove that without all her buddies interfering, I can take the title from her.
Chaz: I see yer poin' and all, but wi' Team Ireland in there... come on, we beat them last month. We have ta have a better sho' than they do, righ'?
*Fannie puts a hand on Chaz's shoulder.*
Fannie: We're still a team, Chaz. If I don't manage to win the title, we'll go after the Tag-Team Titles, okay? There's not a team out there that we can't beat. We know that and, pretty soon, all the other teams in W*I*G will know it too. Listen, I gotta hit the showers. I'll see ya later...
*Exit Fannie. Lana approaches Chaz, looking sympathetic. She pats his arm and looks up at him with a small smile.*
Lana: *having seemingly gotten over her tiff with the other woman* Ya know she’s right, Chaz. She ain’t doin’ dis ta upset ya… She really does wanna prove dat she can do it. It’s impo’tan’ ta her.
Chaz: Thank ye, lass, bu’ Aye think Aye know m’ own partner well enough.
Lana: Ah don’ know dat ya do, nec’sarily. An’ Ah cain’t see why yo’ so upset dat she ain’t taggin’ wit’ you dis month. Unless…
*Lana pauses and her smile fades as a strange expression crosses her face. Chaz, ever observant even in his less than jovial mood, doesn’t miss this abrupt change in demeanor.*
Chaz: Wha’s wrong, lass?
Lana: …‘S not’in’. Ah gotta get back to trainin’ fo’ dis match. Much as Ah hate ta admit it, Fannie might’ve had a poin’ about de others in de match.
Chaz: Oi, wha’s got yer knickers inna twist, then, lass?
*Lana turns and heads into the gym, studiedly ignoring the questioning look on Chaz’s face. The large Scot watches her go, then gives a rare sigh and turns away in apparent defeat.*
Chaz: What the fack ‘as gotten intah those two today?
*Chaz shrugs to himself and heads off toward the weight room, mulling over the strange course of events in his head as he goes.*
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Post by Paul's Boutique on Apr 25, 2009 14:37:54 GMT -5
*We open on the W*I*G interview area backstage. John Cena is standing behind a counter with the W*I*G logo written on it. He has on a John Cena shirt with a big red X painted on it, blue jeans, and white sneakers.*
Cena: Welcome back to W*I*G Vindication, and at this time, I would like to…
Strange voice off camera: Introduce the best damn team in W*I*G to the world!!!!
Cena: *looking around* Who said that!?
*Suddenly, Paul’s Boutique runs onto camera. The High Plains Drifter slaps Cena on the back. He is wearing a leather coat, white t-shirt, baggy black jeans, and sneakers. Egg Man wraps his arm around Cena’s shoulders and kisses him on the cheek; Cena wipes off Egg Man’s saliva. He is wearing a white long sleeve shirt, black pants, and black shoes. Johnny Ryall cockily walks over and grabs the microphone from Cena’s hand. He is wearing a black suit, orange tie, white shirt, and black shoes.*
Johnny Ryall: Now, allow ourselves to introduce…ourselves. I am the quintessential ladies man. I’m cooler that Miles Davis with a lot more jazz cravings. I’m funkier than Lee Dorsey as you can see. And, I’ve bedded more women that Wilt Chamberlain; but none of them were chambermaids. I am Johnny Ryall. And, to all you ladies out there…*blows a kiss to the camera* how you doin’?
Cena: *sarcastically* Wow! You’re so charming.
Johnny: Thank you. Now, this fine young gentleman with his arm around Cena is the merry prankster of the group. Well, technically, we’re all pranksters; but he’s prankier than most. Pranking’s his game, and he puts the Joker to shame! He’s a walking, talking April Fool’s Day even in the month of May! And, he knows his comedy because he’s never known tragedy! He is the Egg Man!
Egg Man: *slams his fist on the counter* No, no, NO!!!! How many times do I hafta tell ya!? It’s “Egg Man”! Not, “The Egg Man”! Just “Egg Man”!
Johnny: Does that really matter!?
Egg Man: Yes, it does!
Johnny: Oh, you’re being ridiculous!
Egg Man: No, I’m bein’ serious! You’re ridiculous!
Johnny: How dare you!
*They start yelling at each other incoherently and pointing at each other. Suddenly, the Drifter walks around and slaps them both.*
The High Plains Drifter: KNOCK IT OFF!!!!
Johnny: Sorry. Anyway, now to this man. *puts his arm around the Drifter’s shoulders* Many people call this man a violent brute who’s drunk all the time. Well, those people are right. He’s sharp as a razor and smokin’ like Joe Frazier! He floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee, and is a lot prettier than Muhammad Ali! And, he’s scarier that Mike Tyson; and that’s know lie, son! He is the High Plains Drifter!
The Drifter: What’s up?
Cena: Okay.
Johnny: So, now that we’ve introduced ourselves, that leaves one question—
*All three men turn their attention to Cena.*
Johnny: Who the hell are you?
Cena: Oh, I’m John Cena.
*All three of their jaws drop in shock.*
Johnny: What?
Egg Man: The?
The Drifter: Hell?
Johnny: For real!?
Egg Man: You’re John Cena!?
The Drifter: Damn, son! I though you gave up tryin’ to be black!
Egg Man: Gave up! Looks like he’s gone too far!
The Drifter: Where the hell is the NAACP!? Should Jesse Jackson be marchin’ on yo’ ass!?
Egg Man: When Al Sharpton finds out, he’s gonna choke a bitch!?
Cena: No! I’m not the wrestler John Cena in black face. I’m John Cena, the backstage interviewer for W*I*G, and I just happen to be black.
Johnny: Oh! That’s good. I was wondering what kind of racist organization me and my posse had join.
Egg Man: Your posse!? I thought this was MY posse!
The Drifter: Oh hell no! If this is anyone’s posse, it’s my posse!
Cena: I hate to interrupt your posse discussion, but I have a question.
Johnny: Good. Cause I have some questions too. First off, are you the president of the John Cena fan club, or are you just a member?
Egg Man: What made ya decide to adopt the same name as the Doctor of Thuganomics? Also, can we call you the Doctor of Thuganomics?
The Drifter: Better movie: “The Marine” or “12 Rounds?”
Cena: Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!!!! I DON’T LIKE JOHN CENA!!!! I HATE THAT MAN!!!! I JUST HAPPEN TO HAVE THE SAME NAME AS HIM!!!! NOW, SHUT UP!!!!
*All three men looked shocked and somewhat impressed by Cena’s outburst.*
Johnny: Damn man! Calm down! We’re just goofing around.
Cena: Sorry. I just don’t like all the cracks I get when people learn my name.
Egg Man: So, why don’t ya change it?
Cena: Why should I change it? He’s the one who sucks.
The Drifter: Well…hey! You stole that line from “Office Space”!
Cena: It still applies! Anyway, I’m the interviewer! I’m the one who’s suppose to be asking the questions!
Johnny: Then, ask way, Michael Bay!
Cena: Okay. You three first appeared at March 29th, challenging the White Boys for their W*I*G World Tag Team Titles. Since then, you haven’t been seen, until now. So, where have you been?
Johnny: Oh, that easy. You see, we’ve been going around introducing ourselves to all the fine people who work at W*I*G. We wanted to do that before introducing ourselves to the fans. As you know, there are a lot of W*I*G employees; and it took us while.
Egg Man: Plus, Johnny spent a little extra time introducing himself to the ladies.
Johnny: Hey! I wasn’t the only one! Besides, I explained that I am the ladies man of the group! And, I can’t help it if women are drawn to me like alien chicks to Captain Kirk!
The Drifter: Oh, shut up! Only one person showed any interest, and that was a man!
Johnny: Well, gay men are also drawn to me like alien chicks to Captain Kirk. Beside, that Fannie Package is a nice fellow. I felt kind of bad telling him that I’m not gay.
Cena: Um…Fannie Package is a woman.
Johnny: Really?
Cena: Yes.
Johnny: Really!?
Cena: Yes. Fannie’s a woman.
Johnny: Are you sure?
Cena: I’m…pretty positive.
Johnny: Oh my God! No wonder she got pissed at me! I thought she was angry that I was being homophobic! Which, I’m not, by the way! I just like women over men.
Cena: Anyway. I was wondering what most of our fans were wondering—you’re first match here in W*I*G was against the White Boys with their W*I*G World Tag Team Titles on the line. Just how we you able to get the match?
Egg Man: Oh, that’s easy. Ya see, we were gonna show up at March 29th and do somethin’. We hadn’t figured out what yet. Probably throw eggs at people as they walked to the ring. Anyway, those two country boys came up to us and asked if they want to wrestle that night. We said, “No.” Then, they said, “You don’t wanna rassle fer our World Tag Team Titles.” Then we said, “World Tag Team Titles!? Why didn’t ya say so!?” And, we changed our minds.
Cena: That’s sounds about right. So, what’s next for Paul’s Boutique?
The Drifter: Well, we gonna be in that Gauntlet for the W*I*G World Tag Team Titles at Attrition. We’re gonna win. Then, we’re gonna go out and party.
Cena: But, what if you don’t win?
*All three men stare at Cena for a few minutes. Then, they burst into laughter.*
Johnny: *laughing* Don’t win!? Did you hear that!?
Egg Man: *laughing* Not win!? Are you crazy!?
The Drifter: *laughing* Yeah, like that’s gonna happen! Man, you’re crazy!
*They all walk off laughing.*
Cena: Well, that was Paul’s Boutique, and they sure are confident about winning the W*I*G World Tag Team Titles at Attrition. And, speaking of Attrition, here’s what’s gonna happen at the pay-per-view…
Backstage Producer: Um…John, they took up all the time.
Cena: What!? Not again! Son of a…
*Cut to commercial.*
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