SteelCitySon
League Member
basic singles competition
Kevin "K-9" Watson vs. John Doe
- Thread starter SteelCitySon
- Start date
John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
Come and Get it...
[Fade into John Doe's locker room]
[Doe walks out of the locker room and makes his way around the hallway]
[A intern stops him]
Intern: Mr. Doe i was sent here to get an interview with you.
Doe: Yeah sure...
Intern: Well we were wondering about your thoughts on your match?
Doe: My thoughts?
Intern: Yes.
Doe: Well, I don't fear him, or anyone. So all I can say is to Watson is he gots one hell of match up for him.
Intern: Speaking on matches, that was one hell of a match last week.
Doe: Thanks.
Intern: Is this what we can expect in your match against Kevin Watson?
Doe: Well against Watson, that was nothing. He has no clue what is instore for him in the ring and I will show you what is instore for him. He is a good wrestler, but in my eyes not good enough to stop me.
Intern: Do you believe taht you can beat Kevin Watson?
Doe: Beat him...no. Destroy him...yes. See what Watson doesn't know is what I will do to him and ANY wrestler in EPW! He has no chance.
Intern: Do you have anything in mind for Watson?
Doe: Oh, I have one thing in mind for Watson, one word....PAIN....
[Doe walks away from the Intern as the cameras fade out]
[Fade into John Doe's locker room]
[Doe walks out of the locker room and makes his way around the hallway]
[A intern stops him]
Intern: Mr. Doe i was sent here to get an interview with you.
Doe: Yeah sure...
Intern: Well we were wondering about your thoughts on your match?
Doe: My thoughts?
Intern: Yes.
Doe: Well, I don't fear him, or anyone. So all I can say is to Watson is he gots one hell of match up for him.
Intern: Speaking on matches, that was one hell of a match last week.
Doe: Thanks.
Intern: Is this what we can expect in your match against Kevin Watson?
Doe: Well against Watson, that was nothing. He has no clue what is instore for him in the ring and I will show you what is instore for him. He is a good wrestler, but in my eyes not good enough to stop me.
Intern: Do you believe taht you can beat Kevin Watson?
Doe: Beat him...no. Destroy him...yes. See what Watson doesn't know is what I will do to him and ANY wrestler in EPW! He has no chance.
Intern: Do you have anything in mind for Watson?
Doe: Oh, I have one thing in mind for Watson, one word....PAIN....
[Doe walks away from the Intern as the cameras fade out]
BWade
Grandma Took Me Home
Failure Is Progress
Things didn't quite pan out like Kevin envisioned. Unsure and uneasy whether or not his appointed "partner" would show, much less assist in a win, Kevin was worried. This was his time to shine. This was his moment in the sun, after years and years of the torture threw out his oriental tours, to South American promotions, and all the way back to the States only to be dubbed mediocre, or even rookie when he steps back in the ring. Though he'd like to act like none of this effects him but of course it does.
He can take a small comfort in the fact that he was never actually pinned down to the mat, yet that is a trivial insignificant piece of the pie.
After the show, Kevin never even made it out of his dressing room. Digging down in his gym back he pulls out a glass bottle which appears to be Jack Daniel's. Kevin still clad in his ring attire, an old pair of jeans cut and ripped in into shorts, black CIRCA T-shirt and black boots. He cracks the bottle and tips into a plastic red cup sitting next to a pack of Newport shorts, just inside the blue locker space to his right. He sits down in the adjacent locker space and tips the cup back. He pours another and reaches for the pack of cigarettes, taking one from the pack and lighting it with the white lighter from his pocket.
He rubs his now nearly bare head doubting the ritual cutting of his hair. He wanted to be a new man but is now doubting himself and choices ... early in the game.
Some say you can't teach an old dog new tricks ...
Kevin starts mumbling and talking out load. sulking if you will.
<i>"Stotlz ... what a ****ing joke. Not a word for two weeks, he shows up late, and costs me my come back. Then you got David Thomas ... at every turn attempting to make me look bad ... and Neeley ... HA ... what's the point."</i>
Kevin rubs his face and eyes just before tipping the cup back again. He pours another swirling it around the cup as his ice slowly melts to water.
<i>"This was supposed to be a new beginning ... now the finicky fan fair can't even remember my got damn name. Has MWC been completely forgotten ... Was I invisible in CSWA? Have I been completely forgotten in the Orient ... my life has been a complete farce ... How could I ever expect Jasmine to take me back ... why would my son even want to see me, I nothing ... in Empire I'm a thirty year old rookie..."</i>
Kevin tips back the cup once again, and thinks to himself for a few seconds and then get back on his soap box. Scratching his head as he begin again.
<i>"Now next week, at least I can leave my fate resting souly upon my shoulders. No promotion appointed tag team partners ... its all on me. Who the hell is John Doe? This promotion in insistent on sticking me at the bottom of each card, first match, the worst competitors ... filler, threw and threw."</i>
Kevin sighs, pours another drink, and once again tips it back. He crunches the ices in his mouths, and pulls on his cigarette.
<i>"What choice do I have though ... ? Its a check. Its a living ... yet this can not continue ... After all Gettis is here, I mean that could be something, an old friend atleast ... between me and him, we'll take this place over ..."</i>
Kevin pulls from his cigarette, and speaks one last time as he exhales as he laughs to himself.
<i>"Bright nights and dark days ... it'll come around."</I>
Kevin drops the cigarette butt to the floor. Slow motion. The camera follows, and the fades away as Kevin's foot smothers the red ember.
Things didn't quite pan out like Kevin envisioned. Unsure and uneasy whether or not his appointed "partner" would show, much less assist in a win, Kevin was worried. This was his time to shine. This was his moment in the sun, after years and years of the torture threw out his oriental tours, to South American promotions, and all the way back to the States only to be dubbed mediocre, or even rookie when he steps back in the ring. Though he'd like to act like none of this effects him but of course it does.
He can take a small comfort in the fact that he was never actually pinned down to the mat, yet that is a trivial insignificant piece of the pie.
After the show, Kevin never even made it out of his dressing room. Digging down in his gym back he pulls out a glass bottle which appears to be Jack Daniel's. Kevin still clad in his ring attire, an old pair of jeans cut and ripped in into shorts, black CIRCA T-shirt and black boots. He cracks the bottle and tips into a plastic red cup sitting next to a pack of Newport shorts, just inside the blue locker space to his right. He sits down in the adjacent locker space and tips the cup back. He pours another and reaches for the pack of cigarettes, taking one from the pack and lighting it with the white lighter from his pocket.
He rubs his now nearly bare head doubting the ritual cutting of his hair. He wanted to be a new man but is now doubting himself and choices ... early in the game.
Some say you can't teach an old dog new tricks ...
Kevin starts mumbling and talking out load. sulking if you will.
<i>"Stotlz ... what a ****ing joke. Not a word for two weeks, he shows up late, and costs me my come back. Then you got David Thomas ... at every turn attempting to make me look bad ... and Neeley ... HA ... what's the point."</i>
Kevin rubs his face and eyes just before tipping the cup back again. He pours another swirling it around the cup as his ice slowly melts to water.
<i>"This was supposed to be a new beginning ... now the finicky fan fair can't even remember my got damn name. Has MWC been completely forgotten ... Was I invisible in CSWA? Have I been completely forgotten in the Orient ... my life has been a complete farce ... How could I ever expect Jasmine to take me back ... why would my son even want to see me, I nothing ... in Empire I'm a thirty year old rookie..."</i>
Kevin tips back the cup once again, and thinks to himself for a few seconds and then get back on his soap box. Scratching his head as he begin again.
<i>"Now next week, at least I can leave my fate resting souly upon my shoulders. No promotion appointed tag team partners ... its all on me. Who the hell is John Doe? This promotion in insistent on sticking me at the bottom of each card, first match, the worst competitors ... filler, threw and threw."</i>
Kevin sighs, pours another drink, and once again tips it back. He crunches the ices in his mouths, and pulls on his cigarette.
<i>"What choice do I have though ... ? Its a check. Its a living ... yet this can not continue ... After all Gettis is here, I mean that could be something, an old friend atleast ... between me and him, we'll take this place over ..."</i>
Kevin pulls from his cigarette, and speaks one last time as he exhales as he laughs to himself.
<i>"Bright nights and dark days ... it'll come around."</I>
Kevin drops the cigarette butt to the floor. Slow motion. The camera follows, and the fades away as Kevin's foot smothers the red ember.
John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
FlashBack...
[Cameras Cut back stage to where John Doe is sitting on a box in the back of the arena. Doe swings his legs whistling as he rubs his hands thinking, pondering upon his match]
Doe: He has more experience than me. He can't beat you though.
[Doe turns his head the opposite way to a sign saying arena entrance, Doe smiles as he thinks]
Doe: Man, I need to take a walk.
[Doe walks down the hall slow and steady as he talks to himself. Security guards look at him laughing under their breath. Doe walks into the empty arena and walks down the entrance ramp and slides in the ring. Doe leans his back into the turnbuckle and sighs]
Doe: I wonder what he's thinking. Ha, probably thinking I'm a nobody. Can I beat him? I don't know what I have left in me anymore.
[Doe turns his head around the arena as he hears the crowd cheering and screaming. Doe closes his eyes having a small dream of the ring.]
~Flashback in Does memory~
[Blurred voices and people as John Doe has a memory flashback, show blurred faces and a ring}
Voice 1: he's against the ropes! He is in some major trouble.
[Show a blurry body heading at John Doe at full speed with a chair]
Voice 2: Oh MY GOD! NO!
[Turn back to John Doe in the EPW ring as a large metal bang is heard. Doe opens his eyes quick as workers set up the titan tron. Beats of sweat drip from Does forehead as his body gets a cold shiver]
Doe: It's time to do this. I know what I have to do and will do it, whatever it takes. I need to win this match, no matter what. Watson is a bum and I know exactly what he can do...but he doesn't know what I can do.
[Camera turn to Doe's hands grasping the ropes hard as foam slowly runs down his lips and splashes off the ring in small puddles, Doe smiles as his head shakes violently]
Doe: Maybe he should see what I could do. Maybe he should taste my pain. Maybe he should see what I suffered, what I feel. Maybe he has to get beat so bad that he loses his memory. Maybe he needs to feel real, utter, intense...PAIN.
[FTB]
[Cameras Cut back stage to where John Doe is sitting on a box in the back of the arena. Doe swings his legs whistling as he rubs his hands thinking, pondering upon his match]
Doe: He has more experience than me. He can't beat you though.
[Doe turns his head the opposite way to a sign saying arena entrance, Doe smiles as he thinks]
Doe: Man, I need to take a walk.
[Doe walks down the hall slow and steady as he talks to himself. Security guards look at him laughing under their breath. Doe walks into the empty arena and walks down the entrance ramp and slides in the ring. Doe leans his back into the turnbuckle and sighs]
Doe: I wonder what he's thinking. Ha, probably thinking I'm a nobody. Can I beat him? I don't know what I have left in me anymore.
[Doe turns his head around the arena as he hears the crowd cheering and screaming. Doe closes his eyes having a small dream of the ring.]
~Flashback in Does memory~
[Blurred voices and people as John Doe has a memory flashback, show blurred faces and a ring}
Voice 1: he's against the ropes! He is in some major trouble.
[Show a blurry body heading at John Doe at full speed with a chair]
Voice 2: Oh MY GOD! NO!
[Turn back to John Doe in the EPW ring as a large metal bang is heard. Doe opens his eyes quick as workers set up the titan tron. Beats of sweat drip from Does forehead as his body gets a cold shiver]
Doe: It's time to do this. I know what I have to do and will do it, whatever it takes. I need to win this match, no matter what. Watson is a bum and I know exactly what he can do...but he doesn't know what I can do.
[Camera turn to Doe's hands grasping the ropes hard as foam slowly runs down his lips and splashes off the ring in small puddles, Doe smiles as his head shakes violently]
Doe: Maybe he should see what I could do. Maybe he should taste my pain. Maybe he should see what I suffered, what I feel. Maybe he has to get beat so bad that he loses his memory. Maybe he needs to feel real, utter, intense...PAIN.
[FTB]
Last edited:
BWade
Grandma Took Me Home
Failure Is Progress Pt. II (Bright Nights & Dark Days)
<i>"Kevin? ... Kevin? ... Hey, Kevin ... "</i>
The pitch black scene flutters like soar eye lids flickering upon awakening in attempt to adjust to the blinding light.
The view cuts to a wider angle from across this closet like space. The same blue benches and locker spaces cram the already minuscule room. Kevin Watson lays spread eagle covering the only amount of open floor in the area.
The view pans around revealing Jake Goldstien standing at Kevin's head glaring down with a look of disappointment. Kevin, slowly with help of the benches to both his right and left, pulls himself nearly to his feet. He collapses down onto the bench on his right. Reaching into the last locker along the wall he grabs for a pack of cigarette lying near a nearly empty bottle of Jack.
Kevin pulls the last cigarette from the soft pack, and crumbles it as he lights up and inhales.
<i>" ... Kevin, this is just ... just, well plain unexceptable!"</i>
Kevin sends a piercing glance, filled with a burning rage with a lingering apathy, toward Jake.
Threw out Kevin's less than illustrious career his drinking and substance abuse problems' have been well documented.
... but we all have out quirks...right?
<i>"I leave you alone for one night! ...One night, Kevin! ...and look at you! Look at you! I find you passed out on the locker room floor, in the same musky-ass clothes you wrestled in the night before! I'm supposed to be your manager, ...your friend, and you can't even call me!? And another thi..."</i>
Kevin, pulling the cigarette from between his chapped lips, interrupts.
<i>"You call this a locker room? ...hell of a manager. Since when have you been MY keeper."</i>
Jake, being the persistent business minded individual he is, regains his composure and moves things along.
<i>"Very well, but you need to at least call your parole officer. The nature of your near life time occupation, and my reputation is the only reason your allowed out of the state ... yet you are still required to phone in every week ... if not more."</i>
Kevin releases a heavy sigh, and continues to smoke his last cigarette down to the filter.
<i>" ...come on, Jake. You know me better than that. I maybe a lot of things, but I'm not a career criminal. I mean damn, ... I talked to Williams yesterday ...and no doubtly he saw me on t.v."</i>
Jake, satisfied with Kevin's rebuttal to his earlier remarks, starts to update Kevin on the current situation.
<i>"Alright, well ... as you know John Doe will be standing across the ring from you come next week. He's been burning up the air waves ... and is taking any shot he can at you. He doesn't know you, you don't know him, yadda yadda, he's better than you ... everything we've all heard before from a thousand other world class champions ... and a million nobodies ... yet you've always had a much better judge of talent than I.
If you haven't seen his spots, you honestly aren't miss much ... alas ... your going to have to cut a spot for the hype factor. I know you hate it ... not your style, this that and the other ... yet the fact still remains, while you were in prison time DID not stand still and your name is no longer fresh in the minds of boys and girls, men and women nation wide ... that's the game. Ya' know how to play it, so lets roll the dice and jump right in."</i>
Kevin clearly waiting for a chance to add his two sense in, has given up on any argument he may have risen against Jake's comments.
<i>"Yeah, ... and let me guess, you already have something set up!?"</i>
A smirk spreads across Jake's face as he answers.
<i>"Just as I know you ... as well do you know me! ... Of course I have something set up, we have to get on the road though. When we arrive in Rutherford, I have a sound stage at our disposal ... I'll leave the details up to you, and the producers."</i>
Kevin scratches his head, and a half smile cracks, and quickly fades from his somber beating appearance.
<i>"Where would I be with out you ... ?</i>
Jake laughs, and without missing a beat, replies with a smart ass remark.
<i>"Probably still walking your way to Philly! ... lets go!</i>
Kevin begins to gather his things as the view fades to black.
<i>"Kevin? ... Kevin? ... Hey, Kevin ... "</i>
The pitch black scene flutters like soar eye lids flickering upon awakening in attempt to adjust to the blinding light.
The view cuts to a wider angle from across this closet like space. The same blue benches and locker spaces cram the already minuscule room. Kevin Watson lays spread eagle covering the only amount of open floor in the area.
The view pans around revealing Jake Goldstien standing at Kevin's head glaring down with a look of disappointment. Kevin, slowly with help of the benches to both his right and left, pulls himself nearly to his feet. He collapses down onto the bench on his right. Reaching into the last locker along the wall he grabs for a pack of cigarette lying near a nearly empty bottle of Jack.
Kevin pulls the last cigarette from the soft pack, and crumbles it as he lights up and inhales.
<i>" ... Kevin, this is just ... just, well plain unexceptable!"</i>
Kevin sends a piercing glance, filled with a burning rage with a lingering apathy, toward Jake.
Threw out Kevin's less than illustrious career his drinking and substance abuse problems' have been well documented.
... but we all have out quirks...right?
<i>"I leave you alone for one night! ...One night, Kevin! ...and look at you! Look at you! I find you passed out on the locker room floor, in the same musky-ass clothes you wrestled in the night before! I'm supposed to be your manager, ...your friend, and you can't even call me!? And another thi..."</i>
Kevin, pulling the cigarette from between his chapped lips, interrupts.
<i>"You call this a locker room? ...hell of a manager. Since when have you been MY keeper."</i>
Jake, being the persistent business minded individual he is, regains his composure and moves things along.
<i>"Very well, but you need to at least call your parole officer. The nature of your near life time occupation, and my reputation is the only reason your allowed out of the state ... yet you are still required to phone in every week ... if not more."</i>
Kevin releases a heavy sigh, and continues to smoke his last cigarette down to the filter.
<i>" ...come on, Jake. You know me better than that. I maybe a lot of things, but I'm not a career criminal. I mean damn, ... I talked to Williams yesterday ...and no doubtly he saw me on t.v."</i>
Jake, satisfied with Kevin's rebuttal to his earlier remarks, starts to update Kevin on the current situation.
<i>"Alright, well ... as you know John Doe will be standing across the ring from you come next week. He's been burning up the air waves ... and is taking any shot he can at you. He doesn't know you, you don't know him, yadda yadda, he's better than you ... everything we've all heard before from a thousand other world class champions ... and a million nobodies ... yet you've always had a much better judge of talent than I.
If you haven't seen his spots, you honestly aren't miss much ... alas ... your going to have to cut a spot for the hype factor. I know you hate it ... not your style, this that and the other ... yet the fact still remains, while you were in prison time DID not stand still and your name is no longer fresh in the minds of boys and girls, men and women nation wide ... that's the game. Ya' know how to play it, so lets roll the dice and jump right in."</i>
Kevin clearly waiting for a chance to add his two sense in, has given up on any argument he may have risen against Jake's comments.
<i>"Yeah, ... and let me guess, you already have something set up!?"</i>
A smirk spreads across Jake's face as he answers.
<i>"Just as I know you ... as well do you know me! ... Of course I have something set up, we have to get on the road though. When we arrive in Rutherford, I have a sound stage at our disposal ... I'll leave the details up to you, and the producers."</i>
Kevin scratches his head, and a half smile cracks, and quickly fades from his somber beating appearance.
<i>"Where would I be with out you ... ?</i>
Jake laughs, and without missing a beat, replies with a smart ass remark.
<i>"Probably still walking your way to Philly! ... lets go!</i>
Kevin begins to gather his things as the view fades to black.