Beast vs. Marx

[JABolich]

Beast vs. "Gentleman" Jonathan Marx

Number one contenders collide as Jonathan Marx battles Beast! Marx has plenty of momentum behind him after his win at Aggression, but can he defeat the challenger for the World Title?

 

[MarcusWestcott]

[ Fade in to an EPW set somewhere, with a black curtain backdrop, and the EPW banner hanging in the middle of it. Beast stands centered in front of the backdrop, in just jeans and boots, and he carries a kendo stick with him, resting on his shoulder. Beast has a wild look in his eyes, and he can't seem to stand in one spot for very long.]

Beast: So, it's a battle of the number one contenders.

A Beast and a Gentleman are about to step into the ring at Aggression.

Except there really isn't anything gentleman-like about you, is there, Marx? Sure, you like nibbling on your crumpets, and sipping your cup of tea with your pinky finger stuck in the air, but when you get into the ring, you're all business, right? Yeah, you got the job done against my partner at Aggression. You survived the Cruise missile, congratulations.

But this week, you've got a wild beast on your hands.

Sands wanted to raise the bar last week? Well, congratulations, Christian, the bar got kicked up a few notches. We're going to step into a sixteen foot high steel cage and decide once and for all who the real Champion of this federation is.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I still have a different opponent to face this week.

But one has something to do with the other in this case. Marx really isn't a gentleman, and I have to wait a bit before I get to treat Sands to the cold steel of the stage.

But why should we make the fans wait another week for a knock down, drag out, balls to the wall slobberknocker of a match?

Let's up the ante, Marx. Let's see how much of a gentleman you really aren't.

I've got a craving. I've got a primal urge.

I'm drooling ove the chance to get into that ring and kick someone's ass this week. Anyone's ass. Everyone's ass.

Looks like you drew the short straw, Marx.

[ Beast starts absentmindedly tapping the Kendo stick on the floor once every several moments. ]

Beast: Let's see what you've got. No disqualifcation. Falls count anywhere. Weapons are encouraged - hell, they're going to be mandatory. Let's put the Aggression back into EPW, and make this a hardcore match that absolutely no one is EVER going to forget.

The geniuses running the EPW website say I'm not a happy camper.

I feel like showing them what I do when I get unhappy. How I release my anger.

Whaddya say, Marx?

Are you ready to rumble with the king of the beasts? Or are you too much of a puss-I mean-gentleman to worry about breaking your nails or getting a scatch on that little face of yours?

Step into the ring with me and let's find out.

[ Beast winds up and cracks the camera with the kendo stick, and the camera falls over, and immediately goes to static. ]

 

[PaulNJ21]

Poor Orphans



::Brandon Jacobs and Jonathan Marx are sitting in the Air Canada Centre in Toronto, Ontario waiting for Game Seven of the Senators vs. Maple Leafs game to begin. Jacobs is munching on popcorn::

BRANDON JACOBS: So, are you going to accept Beast’s challenge?

JONATHAN MARX: There is a better chance of Nickelback having another hit song. Canada has some of the most well mannered and polite people anywhere on the planet, but when you put sticks into their hands, they turn into violent animals.

BRANDON JACOBS: There is no room in this sport for goons like Beast.

JONATHAN MARX: Besides, what if, heaven forbid, I injured Beast before his big match with Christian Sands? Do you know how long I'd be in the penalty box with management for ruining their golden boy?

BRANDON JACOBS: Like you haven’t had enough trouble in Empire.

JONATHAN MARX: Even worse, I’d upset Lindsay Troy, the godmother of professional wrestling and whatever Beast could do to me wouldn’t compare to what would happen to me if I invoked Lindsay’s wrath.

BRANDON JACOBS: You know, he is probably going to call you yellow.

JONATHAN MARX: It isn’t like I haven’t taken my share of punishment. I’ve faced Maelstrom, Manson, and I watch the Rangers play on a nightly basis, I’ve experienced my share of punishment for one lifetime. Let him call me yellow. We both need to be healthy enough to make sure we get the job done at the PPV.

BRANDON JACOBS: Yeah, I don’t see why Beast would want a match like this so close to his match with Christian Sands.

JONATHAN MARX: If he was smart, he’d just lie down in the ring and let me pin him and I could take him out for some of those inferior Canadian beers that he likes.

BRANDON JACOBS: So you want to beat him and then poison him on top of that?

JONATHAN MARX: I have no remorse, I try to be a gentlemen but everyone insists on making everything hard on themselves. For instance, when I originally watched Beast’s interview, I was so incensed that I almost took him up on his offer.

BRANDON JACOBS: Why is that?

JONATHAN MARX: Why does Beast have to abuse that poor piece of camera equipment? Has a camera ever done anything to him except capture his crazed violent rants? He ruined a perfectly good $50,000 camera. It isn’t my money, but if Beast wants to flush money down the toilet ruining perfectly good things, why not simply donate the money to put food into the mouths of hungry orphans? I may be rich, but what he did was a waste of money that could have gone to help someone.

BRANDON JACOBS: Beast must like starving hungry orphans.

JONATHAN MARX: Is that the kind of man you want wearing the Empire World Heavyweight Title? If I had realized my dream of becoming Emperor, those poor hungry orphans would be eating cake and all would be right with the world.

BRANDON JACOBS: The orphans never knew how good they almost had it.

JONATHAN MARX: Poor orphans.

FTB

 

[MarcusWestcott]

Canadian beer rules - don't forget it.

Inside a martial arts school, four men are on the canvas, each one of them brandishing a Kendo stick - Beast, and three others. All four men bow to each other, and get into a ready position.

Beast: Begin!

First man rushes at Beast and takes a mighty swing. Beast blocks with his own stick and drives a shot at the man's head. The man ducks under and swings for Beast's ribs, but Beast lets go with one hand, catches his arm, and twists the man's shoulder so the man flips onto his back on the canvas. Beast then drives two solid cane shots into the man's chest, and one into his face.

The second man steps forward and drills a shot across Beast's back, and Beast yells out in pain, and takes another shot in the chest as he rolls to the floor. Beast yells out again, then nips up to his feet and cracks the second man across the head with his Kendo stick. The second man falls to his knees, then Beast unloads and lands two shots to the head, then spins and lands a wicked two handed shot to the side of the man's face, and he crumples to the canvas.

The third man suddenly grabs Beast from behind, choking Beast with the stick buried into his throat. Beast fights it for a moment, then drops to his knees and pulls, flipping the third man over his shoulder to the mat, yet the third man keeps the choke locked in, and he pulls Beast over with him, now choking him from behind in a seated position. Beast then manages to get his feet underneath him, then pushes up to his feet, the third man standing up with him. Beast stomps on the man's toes, causing him to let go of the choke, and then Beast unleashes a flurried combination of cane shots, hitting the man at least a half-dozen times before he too falls to the canvas.

Beast stands up, looks around him to ensure all the men are incapacitated, and then bows before walking off the canvas. As Beast grabs his towel, he notices the EPW camera following him.

Beast: You know, Marx, you're right about something. Canada DOES have some of the most well mannered and polite people anywhere on the planet. It's in our nature. Much different than big-city Americans - and stuck up, tight-assed Brits.

Put a stick in my hands, whether it's a hockey stick or a bamboo cane, and I'lladmireit and use it what it was intended for.

Now, if you put a stick in my hands when my blood is at a million degrees, and I'm irate and pissed off...

That stick becomes a deadly weapon.

And that just happens to be in the state I'm in right now.

I've got a huge match at the PPV with Sands in a cage. There's going to be pain, and there's going to be blood spilled all over the place. That's not going to change the fact that I'm going to do what I didn't before, and leave that cage the EPW World Champion.

But first, I just thought it would be fun to have a little... tune up.

Just you and me, Marx.

Let's see if you're a man... or a mouse. To paraphrase Nickelback and Kid Rock: Tonight's all right for fighting.

That's what I want.

A fight.

Throw out the submissions and leg locks and technical bull****. If you really, really want, Marx - I can beat you that way too, if you're so inclined.

But let's have some fun instead. I want you to try and knock my block off. I want you to crack your knuckles on my jaw from hitting me so hard. I want to feel the blood running down my forehead- whether it's your or mine, it makes no difference.

I want to feel ALIVE.

I want to send Christian Sands a message, and show him exactly what he's up against. I want him to **** his pants when he realizes that he's going to lose that belt.

But then again, if you're too scared...

Damn right I'm going to call you yellow.

Scared little nose-in-the-air punk *****.

Any man worth his salt would accept this challenge in a heartbeat.

I need to take out some Aggression, Marx, and in our match, cane or no cane, the rule book and wrestling is going out the window. You're simply going to be beaten.

You might as well arm yourself to try and weather some of the storm coming your way.

At least that way, you might survive.

Don't you worry about hurting me, or my chances in my match next week. I know exactly what I'm getting myself into. I'm prepared. You're obviously not. The only place you'd be going after this match is not the penalty box, but a hospital room with about 14 different implements stuck in you to keep you going.

One more thing, Marx...

You haven't faced punishment unless you've watched the Winnipeg Jets.

Or faced me.

Beast storms off into the shower room.