Hagan v Ozeki v Jackson v White

[TheOriginalSE]

All RP for the Fatal Fourway match between TOMMY O'HAGAN, OZEKI, KIDD JACKSON, and JR WHITE at RAPTURE should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

** RAPTURE matches have a RP limit of 2 RP's per participant..


The RP deadline is 11:59pm PST on SATURDAY, July 22nd, 2006. Angles should be sent to secandido@san.rr.com ...

 

[jr_white]

The camera enters a bathroom, steam filling the room, marble sinks and floor. The steam is flowing out from the shower, obscured by a glazed glass door and showing only a large silhouette under the water. The sounds are the falling water drops from the showerhead and some of the worst singing of a Johnny Cash tune ever. EVER.
The water shuts off. The camera starts to back up towards the door, trying to escape unnoticed before the occupant of the shower finds out he’s been watched. But too late. The glass door opens, and there stands JR White in all of his muscular, wet, naked glory. Everyone freezes. The camera watches JR. JR stares at the camera. A bit awkward, this.

"Hmmmm, who’re you?"

"New ERA camera crew."

JR rather causually grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. "Not a tabloid? Not, like, Inside Edition or Hard Copy or anything?"

The camera shakes back and forth in the negative.
"So, lemme ask the obvious question: What, IN THE BLUE HELL, are you doing in my bathroom while I take a shower?"

"Your manager set-up an interview. Big introduction to the fans, your first match coming up and everything. He told us what door to go to."

JR slowly walks toward the camera, making it back up and move out into the hallway. "MARTY!"

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Cut to the living-room, JR seated in a leather easy chair across from the camera, still frowning at something off-screen. Perfectly coordinated and fashionable suit and jacket, pressed Dockers, and his hair still wet from the shower is the image of JR presented this time, certainly a more family-friendly vision than before.

"Uh, Mr. White…. rolling…."

The frown disappears, replaced by a smile featuring perfect pearly whites. Focusing on the camera and sitting back in his chair, JR speaks.

"Hello to the people of New ERA. For those of you with no idea who I am, I’m JR White. But more importantly, I’m Superman. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow. I am your summer blockbuster finally arrived to provide the excitement and entertainment that have been sorely lacking in your lives. I am the big event of this summer, and I’m finally here.

I have come to New ERA not to win, not to slaughter my competition, not to break bones or anything small-time such as that. I have come for the simple reason that this is my time and that we deserve each other. I deserve the success that will undoubtedly come to me when I do win match after match without fail. You deserve to have an idol that can actually make your blood pump and force you to scream until your voice gives out.

That’s right, I actually give a damn what you, the fans that fill our arenas and tune into the shows and buy my t-shirts, want and need. Because you’re my ticket to greater and greater things. I will be your idol, and you will chant my name until management gives me title-shots. I will win those belts, never doubt that, not for a second, and you will make me the greatest champion in the history of this business. The next step after that? Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. And it all begins on Rapture, when the big teaser trailer for BattleBrawl gets shown, the highlight reel I put on giving you a taste of what happens when I’m given a chance at championships.

Now, I realize that this is not what you’re used to. Most people in this business seem to think the road to success is not self-promotion, but rather talking about your opponents. I don’t see the need to give my rivals any attention. They’re afterthoughts, distractions for you while you could enjoy my presence. It never, ever matters who’s in the ring with me, because it’s a simple fact of life that I’m going to come out on top. Foregone conclusion, no doubt about it. That other man, he’s merely an excuse for me to be out in the spotlight and give you fans someone to cheer against. So, especially on this, our first meeting, I’m not going to talk about my opponent."

With a very satisfied and charismatic smile on his face, JR picks up a bottle of pure mineral water and drinks.

"Opponents, plural."

He chokes on the water, coughing and looking at the camera.

"Come again?"

"Your first match is a Fatal Four Way. You and a lot of the other newcomers all getting tossed into one amazing match."

"Really? Three other guys. Not just one. Three others?"

"Yes, Mr. White."

"Huh. Damn. Let me look into this. We’ll continue this interview later."

 

[Bad-Guy]

*All the T.V’S at Rapture are showing a man wrestling in a dark gym. He just power slammed someone and then covered them for the 1 2 3. He stops and gets some pointers from an older gentleman then is given a towel and water bottle. As he exits the ring he makes his way towards the camera man. He stands in front of the camera and drinks the water. He is about to speak.*

O’Hagan: Hello to all you New ERA fans, my name is Tommy O’Hagan but everyone calls me Tommy Gun! I have come to New ERA wrestling because it is my destiny! Wrestling is in my family and I will show you what hard work looks like in my first match at Rapture!

Tommy Gun: Last week I signed my contract to be in New ERA and when I was done that I walked threw the back and I got introduced to all the superstars and there was one person that I can actually say I don’t like! And that person is you JR White! But it gets worse see I thought I didn’t like you when I first talked to you but now I know that you are as dumb as you sounded after listening to your promo.

*Tommy Gun throws the empty water bottle in a recycling container and then throws the damp towel in an old hamper. He then walks over to a wall with a bunch of pictures on it. After a couple of looks the camera focuses on one it is of Ric Flair and beside that is Hulk Hogan.*

Tommy Gun: Those men are idols; those men had their names chanted till they got title shots? Who are you to say that that is what you are? You said something in your promo that made me laugh at you like you were a clown. You said that you don’t want to win? Who says that? I mean if you don’t want to win get out of the ring because you are not a true wrestler at heart!

*Tommy Gun walks away from the wall and stands in front of the door like he is ready to leave.*

Tommy Gun: So come Rapture I will show everyone what a real idol is by beating you clean for the 1 2 3. And for the rest of you don’t hide come out and introduce yourselves then I will kick your asses 2!

*Tommy Gun walks out of the gym as the T.V’S in the arena fade to black then go to a commercial.*

 

[Seymour Almasy]

CUTTO: The familiar flag of Japan, serving as a background. Standing in front of the simple banner are two men. One is clad in a suit and tie, presumably acting as the manager of the other. The other is a gigantic Asian, clad in black pants, with black MMA-style gloves. NEW fans know them as SETH CHAMPION and OZEKI, newcomers to the promotion.

CHAMPION: My apologies. Last week, I did not properly introduce to you the man who will be taking this company by storm. This week, I will correct my oversight. Because, New Era? You are looking at the next big thing, quite literally.

OZEKI’s eyes remain focused, straight ahead, as if in a trance.

CHAMPION: Look at this man. He stands 6’5” tall. He weighs 405 pounds, yet he moves like a man one-hundred pounds lighter. The mountain standing before you is a man by the name of Izumo Yoritomo. Considering that most Americans can’t pronounce that, let alone spell it, we’ve decided to make things easier for you all. Ladies, gentlemen…this is OZEKI!
The black-haired sumo remains silent, even as CHAMPION slaps him on the shoulder with undeniable pride.

CHAMPION: You see, I’ve been up and down the roads in this sport. I’ve wrestled everywhere from Mexico, to Japan, to South America. I’ve held titles all over the world. And yet, when I saw this monolith in Japan, I immediately knew that it was my DESTINY to hang up the tights. For twenty years I’ve been in this sport! And never before had I seen any athlete with the potential that this man has. When I told him of the glory that our sport has to offer, he immediately retired from sumo! At the height of his power and popularity! And why? Because sumo never was and never will be enough for this man to my right.

CHAMPION gives a lopsided smile. Finally, after all of his years of busting his ass on the independent circuits, he’s hit the big time. Perhaps not as a wrestler, true, but as a personality. As a manager.

As a man who can mold his charge into a World Champion.

CHAMPION: OZEKI craves fame! OZEKI craves wealth! And as I have told him, the only positive thing about this ****hole of a country that I am forced to live in is that ANYONE can become rich! Illiterate, spoiled athletes make millions! So just imagine what a REAL athlete can do here. Imagine what a well read, focused individual can do…

OZEKI: OZEKI SMASH!

From the broken sound of the words, it is clear that the massive sumo is not English proficient. This, of course, is why he has CHAMPION to do his talking for him.

CHAMPION: This man has never consumed a sip of alcohol in his life! He has never been to a dance hall or a strip bar! Never done drugs, never even gone on a date! And why, you might ask? I know someone who doesn’t go boozing and whoring is foreign to this culture, so I will tell you! This man is a FOCUSED, CONSUMATE PROFESSIONAL! For his entire life, he has been an athlete! For his entire sumo career, he monitored every single thing that entered his body. He trained for hours a day, because he loved what he did. I have taken that laser-like focus and the athletic gifts that this man possesses, and I have turned them towards professional wrestling. And allow me to tell you now, that when this man is on his game, he is downright unbeatable.

The Japanese man’s eyes tell the story. Quiet and intense they are, with a clear remembrance of last week’s RAPTURE failure on his mind.

CHAMPION: What occurred last week was a mere blip, a bump in the road. But unlike most wrestlers, who would blow it off and go out clubbing, Izumo has put MORE time in the gym. MORE time into honing his technique. His opponents had best beware. Which, quite naturally, brings me to those unfortunate souls foolish enough to believe that they can defeat Ozeki.

SETH grins, taking a quick glance over at his charge. OZEKI remains quietly focused, ready for the proper time to unleash his anger, rage, and force.

CHAMPION: JR WHITE, you’re the epitome of what America represents. Loud. Arrogant. Thinking you’re the greatest thing walking the planet. And you will continue to think that way until someone superior comes along. Thankfully for you, your delusions will end when you run into the brick wall that is OZEKI. Remember, there’s no shame in being second best. Because as long as Izumo is here, that is all that you ever can be.

OZEKI: KUTABARE!

CHAMPION: For the uneducated, that means, well, actually…I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you . It’s sort of profane. Anyway, onto the TOMMY GUN. Allow me to be the first to pop your bubble, son. You CAN’T achieve everything you want if you try really hard. That’s a lie our parents tell us to get us to clean our room and do all that other **** we don’t want to do. You’ve got about as much chance of beating my charge as the Roughriders do of winning the Grey Cup: Effectively nil. But don’t take my word for. OZEKI! Tell them!

Finally, the blank look on OZEKI’s face gives way to an intense, fierce stare.

OZEKI: IZZZZUUMMOOOO THUUNNNNNDAAAHHH! ICHI! NIIIII! SAAAAAAANN!

(Fade.)

 

[jr_white]

The camera makes it way across a large and lavishly landscaped yard, creeping low to the ground and moving towards JR White’s McMansion, specifically a ground floor window. Peeking up and through the window, JR White stands in the middle of home-theatre, totally decked out with surround sound and theatre seats.
Sweat pants and towel wrapped around his neck, along with the lack of shirt and sheen of sweat, give a hint that JR has just gotten done with the training for the day. Pacing around, JR is yelling at a short, fat, badly dressed man with overly-large sunglasses and greasy, slicked-back hair. Who else could this be but the agent-at-large, Marty?

"You told me this place was different, Marty! You told me I was coming in here with a guaranteed in, a foot in the door, a step up the ladder. You told me they wanted me, they were gonna make me happy, they were gonna treat me right. This is exactly what you told me, right? Right?!?"

Now JR isn’t the only one sweating, as Marty shifts nervously in his seat. "Yeah, man, that’s right. This is the place you wanna be, this is gonna be your big jump, man. You got a good thing coming in. Trust me."

"Then why the hell am I in a Fatal Four Way the first time I step in the ring? Tell me that, Mr. Anything You Want, tell me why I’m getting tossed around like that, huh? Seriously, I wanna know why I have to share the spotlight with THREE OTHER GUYS on my big debut for the fans. We both know it’s not what I deserve, it’s not what the fans deserve. They’re getting screwed here. They’ve got all those distractions going on at the same time they should be taking in the spectacle that is JR White, SHOWTIME JR WHITE!"

"C’mon, JR, it’s just a match, man, it’s a weekly TV show, it’s nothing. We both know it doesn’t matter in the big picture, and you’re a big picture guy, man."

JR cocks his leg back and kicks one of the theatre chairs a distinct cracking of breaking wood sounding through the room as he rounds on Marty.

"The big picture is made of a lotta small ones, Marty, don’t you get that? Every match counts, because legends are grown a little bit at a time. I’m the kind of impact-player that is supposed to make a HUGE SPLASH when he comes into a new situation. I’m the kind of competitor that catches your attention and captures the imagination! I’m not the kind of person who deserves to be thrown into a crowd and overshadowed by sheer numbers while the fans in their seats miss out on all the action.

You’re thinking like Tommy Gunn, you’re just not getting me. He said if I’m not here to win, I oughta take a hike. IDIOT! I’m going to win, that’s a fact of life and not up for argument, but winning is not a goal to people with ambition. Winning is a means to an end, not the end itself. Winning goes without saying, but I’m here to become a marquee-name, a legend, an ICON! An icon of America, and icon of all that is masculine and impressive, an icon of everything that represents power. On that one fact, theshrimp standing next to Ozeki got it right, I am the epitome of the world’s only superpower and something to be shocked and awed by.

"Dammit, I deserve to have my own match, with a single opponent for me to wreck in the ring and let the fans get their money’s worth."

"C’mon, JR, look at it this way. Management knows what you deserve, and you’re gonna get everything that’s coming to you. But you got the BattleBrawl coming up soon, man. That’s 10, 20, maybe 30 guys in the ring at once, that’s a unique situation, something you can’t train for. Except for this, man, management gave you this four-way to get you some practice with a crowded ring. Okay, you see, they’re getting you ready for the PPV with these guys, look at it that way."

JR stares at Marty for a long moment. Then, finally, he lets out a breath and flops down into one of the seats, still looking upset. "Maybe. Maybe you’re right. I’ll make the best of a bad situation, I guess. You get the DVD’s I asked for?"

Marty, finally breathing a sigh of relief and smiling a greasy smile, reaches into a briefcase and takes out three DVD’s, handing them to JR.

"Excellent, excellent. You don’t just train, the body, you train the mind. And, of course, like any red-blooded American male my age, everything I need to know I learned from the movies. First up on the viewing list? ROCKY V. Tommy Gunn, do you realize that you made a movie that is considered bad EVEN BY THE STANDARDS OF DOLPH LUNDREN? So weak, that most fans will not even recognize the existence of this sequel? So horrible that it makes the GODFATHER III look like an Eisenstein masterpiece? Honestly, why you bother to even get out of bed with this crap on your resume, I can’t even begin to figure out. My watching this is the key to your destruction.

"Next on the list, THE GENERAL. Not likely that any of the uncultured morons around here knows about it, let me educate you. Buster Keaton, the man funnier than Charlie Chaplin. It’s got a trainwreck, a klutz who can’t get his act straight, slapstick violence, and more screw-ups than the MPAA boardroom. But, most importantly, it’s from the SILENT era. This is for you, Jackson.

"Now, for the other big guy in the match, the yokozuma walking earthquake an other assorted scary titles. SHOGUN!" JR looks down at the DVD in his hand for a moment, his face turning from triumph to puzzlement. Marty is sinking down in his seat, trying to disappear as JR turns to stare at him. "What the hell?"

"They didn’t have SHOGUN in stock. This was the closest they had. The clerk picked it out, not me. Don’t look at me like I’m a pervert, JR, I didn’t pick it."

"SUMO GALS: THE BIGGEST LESBIAN WRESTLING EVENT EVER! Seriously, Marty, you worry me. Then again, it’s not a big loss. Should I really take note of some Asian wrestler who’s last match was so boring that it even put HIM to sleep? Honestly, man, the fans want excitement, not a hot-dog eating contest."

JR looks up at the window and finally notices the camera….

"PAPARAZZI!!!!!"

 

[Seymour Almasy]

When Champion told me it would be easy, I didn’t quite think that it would be this easy.

There are frustrating aspects, certainly. This is an entirely new culture, an entirely new way of life. Temptations are everywhere. Not that they aren’t in Japan, of course. My homeland may be the only place more sexually twisted than this country is.

Worse, I can’t speak the language. Not yet, not for more than a few words I’ve picked up here and there. So, any attempts to speak it result in me sounding like an uneducated, grunting sumo wrestler, the stereotypical salt-thrower.

In fact, I am anything but.

In my homeland I was nicknamed the “Philosopher General”. You would be surprised just how much strategy there is in the sumo ring. Sumo is a war unto itself, a battle fought hand to hand, pitting strength against strength.

Whether in the circle or the ring, strategy is paramount.

Arrogance is the prelude to a fall. Seth Champion, the man in charge of my career, is arrogant, beyond a shadow of a doubt. But I am not.

Do not mistake confidence for arrogance. The former is healthy, necessary for any successful competitor. The latter is destructive.

Arrogance, thy name is JR White….

CHAMPION: IZUMO!

Ah, there’s the other arrogant man now. He is barely tolerable much of the time. And yet, tolerate him. Why? Because our relationship is symbiotic. He handles my affairs, gets me booked for matches, and deals with those whom I cannot deal with due to my language barrier.

OZEKI: Hai?

In exchange, he gets a cut of the money I make. Money well spent, as far as I’m concerned. He knows this sport better than I do. He knows the maneuvers, the techniques, and the tactics to get me to the top. Slowly, he imparts his knowledge to me.

And I soak it up like a sponge.

CHAMPION: Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking all over creation for you!

OZEKI: Training.

It is one of the few English words I know, joining “victory”, “wrestling”, and “smash”, among others. Even “yes” and “no” I say in my native language.

For emphasis, I do several squats.

CHAMPION: Good! You’ve got to fight three guys this week, you’ll need to be in peak condition.

Really, I don’t know why he bothers talking to me in English. I cannot understand 90% of what he says. Yet, if it makes him feel better to blather on at me, I will let him. Whatever works. Whatever leads to success.

CHAMPION: And after this, we’ve got BattleBrawl! An over the top rope battle royale, the winner gets a shot at the world title! Look at you! You’re 405 pounds! Sumo gave you a naturally low center of gravity! You can’t lose!

I merely smile, and nod. He seems content so long as I pay attention. Then he pats me on the shoulder, in that annoying, patronizing manner that he has.

CHAMPION: You and me, man. We’re gonna be at the TOP!

I’m glad he’s so excited. Really, I am. Because the more excited he is, the less he’ll see it coming.

What Seth Champion doesn’t understand is that the more he teaches me, the less use I have for him.

The more English I speak, the less use I have for him talking for me.

The more moves I know, the less use I have for him teaching me new ones.

The more I understand the business of wrestling, the less use I have for him to make my contracts.

His usefulness will soon come to an end?

But until then?

I will allow the parasite to remain on me, until the glorious day that I can swat him forever.

OZEKI: HAI!

And with that, I walk off to continue training. Weightlifting needs no language. Nor does cardio.

Nor does asskicking.

And I can promise that JR White, the Tommy Gun, and Kidd Jackson will find out on RAPTURE that, for all of the things I cannot do, ass kicking is one language that Izumo Yoritomo is very, VERY fluent in.