Open Tourney Rp
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
TSiegel
I spoil things.
Parting shots.
"That's it Troy, keep that in mind."
(Cruise slowly paces onto the GXW backdrop, arms crossed his chest, as he carefully forms his words.)
CC: Keep in mind that I won't follow through. Keep in mind that I won't remember what it is I do for a living. Maybe I just might passover more things that are even more irrelevant to the point like Beast making an appearance in a Promo for a match that doesn't even concern him in the match.
Now, how we got paired up in the Title Tourney is beyond me, because I honestly didn't think I would even have to entertain the thought of seeing you in the other corner for months yet, or at all for that matter.
But seeing as you just HAD to use me as the man to further instill into the rest of this careless, uneventful roster the mind-numbing fact that you're the Queen of this business, let me instill You with some facts of my own that shouldn't really make anymore of an impact than your apparent need to "Rule".
Athletes and people all around, not just in GXW, but WORLDWIDE know me not just as mild-mannered Cameron Cruise in or outside the ring, but as Cameron Cruise....
THE CRIPPLER.
That's right, because of my performances inside the ring or out, how little you may deem them, have cemented me with that moniker, due to the fact that I will follow through with what I have to say, to ANY LENGTH.
You want examples?
Fine.
I've thrown a man off of a Fifteen-foot high stage to prove a point. By the way, if you see Mike Plett anytime soon, please send him my regards.
I've been in pointless Battle Royales in which the result of it proving MY point.
Even more recently, coming short of dethroning Jean Rabesque from First place in NFW, in a Triple Flaming Tables match.
But I'm sure as a Queen, you could care as less about that as I do about what the A1E World Champion even considering my performances for a shot at the title.
He has bigger problems to take care of Ms. Troy. Therefore, what I say right now really shouldn't make any kinda of difference ANYWAY.
You think that I'm over-exaggerating my pride in my position for the Ultratitle.
Good, I'm glad you do.
Because as it is, second to last place or not, I'm thirty points away from first place, a spot in which I still have plenty of time to cover yet.
Nevermind that though, a Queen like you apparently hasn't the patience for complete and understanding of the human being.
Keep trash-talking my wife, really, I mean she hasn't yet finished a job she's started yet, why would she stop with you? I mean really Ms. Troy, at least she HAS a name. No disrespect, but for christ's sake woman....
GET A LAST NAME!!
Now, before you proceed into telling me the AGAIN, pointless reasons why I can't cut it, do me this favor.
Get on the phone.
Get on the phone and call Eli Flair on about how I can't meet the standard.About how I can't hang with the boys...or girls.
Because I can GUARANTEE you proof that he knows FIRST HAND, what it's like to have me at my best.
Because when I am, even if I can't do it myself....you won't.
Now that Ms. Troy, is a Reality Check...that you just...won't like.
(fade)
"That's it Troy, keep that in mind."
(Cruise slowly paces onto the GXW backdrop, arms crossed his chest, as he carefully forms his words.)
CC: Keep in mind that I won't follow through. Keep in mind that I won't remember what it is I do for a living. Maybe I just might passover more things that are even more irrelevant to the point like Beast making an appearance in a Promo for a match that doesn't even concern him in the match.
Now, how we got paired up in the Title Tourney is beyond me, because I honestly didn't think I would even have to entertain the thought of seeing you in the other corner for months yet, or at all for that matter.
But seeing as you just HAD to use me as the man to further instill into the rest of this careless, uneventful roster the mind-numbing fact that you're the Queen of this business, let me instill You with some facts of my own that shouldn't really make anymore of an impact than your apparent need to "Rule".
Athletes and people all around, not just in GXW, but WORLDWIDE know me not just as mild-mannered Cameron Cruise in or outside the ring, but as Cameron Cruise....
THE CRIPPLER.
That's right, because of my performances inside the ring or out, how little you may deem them, have cemented me with that moniker, due to the fact that I will follow through with what I have to say, to ANY LENGTH.
You want examples?
Fine.
I've thrown a man off of a Fifteen-foot high stage to prove a point. By the way, if you see Mike Plett anytime soon, please send him my regards.
I've been in pointless Battle Royales in which the result of it proving MY point.
Even more recently, coming short of dethroning Jean Rabesque from First place in NFW, in a Triple Flaming Tables match.
But I'm sure as a Queen, you could care as less about that as I do about what the A1E World Champion even considering my performances for a shot at the title.
He has bigger problems to take care of Ms. Troy. Therefore, what I say right now really shouldn't make any kinda of difference ANYWAY.
You think that I'm over-exaggerating my pride in my position for the Ultratitle.
Good, I'm glad you do.
Because as it is, second to last place or not, I'm thirty points away from first place, a spot in which I still have plenty of time to cover yet.
Nevermind that though, a Queen like you apparently hasn't the patience for complete and understanding of the human being.
Keep trash-talking my wife, really, I mean she hasn't yet finished a job she's started yet, why would she stop with you? I mean really Ms. Troy, at least she HAS a name. No disrespect, but for christ's sake woman....
GET A LAST NAME!!
Now, before you proceed into telling me the AGAIN, pointless reasons why I can't cut it, do me this favor.
Get on the phone.
Get on the phone and call Eli Flair on about how I can't meet the standard.About how I can't hang with the boys...or girls.
Because I can GUARANTEE you proof that he knows FIRST HAND, what it's like to have me at my best.
Because when I am, even if I can't do it myself....you won't.
Now that Ms. Troy, is a Reality Check...that you just...won't like.
(fade)
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
Yes Virginia, There Is No Point To Cameron's Ramblings...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing in front of a roaring fireplace and looking...well, as spectacular as ever.
Oh, don't worry Cameron, I will keep what you said in mind. I'll keep it in the very back of my mind, and with every stomp of my boot and every punch that I land to a strategically placed part of your body, your wasteful words will slowly slink back into the nothingness from which they originated.
And while we're on the subject of people making appearances in promos, let me just call the kettle black here, because last I checked your dishwater dull, vanilla yogurt wife didn't need to show her ugly mug in front of the camera either. At least Beast had something of substance to say, unlike Mercedes, whose words of wisdom had about as much affect as Michael Jackson saying that sleeping in the same bed with little boys is a healthy practice.
To be quite frank with you, I'm surprised that we got paired up in the first round myself. I was hoping to be matched with someone that would have given me a challenge. For instance, Dan Ryan. Or, Rob Sampson. Or Kin Hiroshi...someone who could safely say that they've done something worthwhile in the past six months or so. The joke was on me though.
I got paired up with a joker.
It's funny. I never knew you had a nickname, let alone a nickname that is mind-numbling terrible. Who the hell have you ever crippled?
Let's be honest here, Cameron. The only thing you've crippled is people's ability to take you seriously, because given your performance this week, there was much to be desired. The only thing you're going to follow through on is following Mercedes back up the ramp with your tail between your legs after I kick the ever-loving sh*t out of you and cementing my place as a Round Two participant.
And then....oh, this is rich...I can't understand a human being?
This is where you're wrong. I understand you completely. Mr. 30 Points, I get where you're coming from. But ya see...while you're 30 points out, Ryan and Melton are at the verrrrry top of their divisions, while you're wallowing around in the sh*tpile with the rest of the scrubs.
I can disrespect Mercedes all I want, just like I can disrespect you all I want, because neither of you have impressed me in the slightest. If you don't like it, then beat me 1, 2, 3 in the middle of the ring and shut me up. I won't hold my breath though. That's one Christmas miracle that isn't going to happen.
I trust that someone of your standard can read, right?
Troy reaches into her purse that was conveniently placed on a leather sitting chair and pulls out two facsimilied pieces of paper. She beckons for the camera to zoom in.
One piece of paper is an old birth certificate. The camera zooms in on the name: "Lindsay Stroizzi".
The next piece of paper is a change of name form. The new name that is shown is "Lindsay Troy". The camera pans down to the bottom of the form where two signatures are. One of the signatures is that of Troy's father.
The camera zooms out, and Troy places the documents on top of her purse.
Ya'see Cameron, I have a last name. Actually, I've had two, but my father found it pertinent to change my birth name.
Call it a safety precaution. Call it coincidence. Hell, call it a reference to Helen of Troy if that suits your fancy. Point being is that in my and my sister's best interest, my father changed our last names for our own protection.
I don't need anyone's assurance about how good you like to think you are. Bottom line, you couldn't hack it against me, and now I shall revel in the massacre.
To my next opponent, whether it be Rob Sampson or Christian Sands, I do hope that one of you gives me a better run for my money in Round 2. I'd hate to be disappointed twice in one night.
It's been a real slice of heaven, Cameron. Time to send you back to whatever mediocre hell you came from.
Fade...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing in front of a roaring fireplace and looking...well, as spectacular as ever.
Oh, don't worry Cameron, I will keep what you said in mind. I'll keep it in the very back of my mind, and with every stomp of my boot and every punch that I land to a strategically placed part of your body, your wasteful words will slowly slink back into the nothingness from which they originated.
And while we're on the subject of people making appearances in promos, let me just call the kettle black here, because last I checked your dishwater dull, vanilla yogurt wife didn't need to show her ugly mug in front of the camera either. At least Beast had something of substance to say, unlike Mercedes, whose words of wisdom had about as much affect as Michael Jackson saying that sleeping in the same bed with little boys is a healthy practice.
To be quite frank with you, I'm surprised that we got paired up in the first round myself. I was hoping to be matched with someone that would have given me a challenge. For instance, Dan Ryan. Or, Rob Sampson. Or Kin Hiroshi...someone who could safely say that they've done something worthwhile in the past six months or so. The joke was on me though.
I got paired up with a joker.
It's funny. I never knew you had a nickname, let alone a nickname that is mind-numbling terrible. Who the hell have you ever crippled?
Let's be honest here, Cameron. The only thing you've crippled is people's ability to take you seriously, because given your performance this week, there was much to be desired. The only thing you're going to follow through on is following Mercedes back up the ramp with your tail between your legs after I kick the ever-loving sh*t out of you and cementing my place as a Round Two participant.
And then....oh, this is rich...I can't understand a human being?
This is where you're wrong. I understand you completely. Mr. 30 Points, I get where you're coming from. But ya see...while you're 30 points out, Ryan and Melton are at the verrrrry top of their divisions, while you're wallowing around in the sh*tpile with the rest of the scrubs.
I can disrespect Mercedes all I want, just like I can disrespect you all I want, because neither of you have impressed me in the slightest. If you don't like it, then beat me 1, 2, 3 in the middle of the ring and shut me up. I won't hold my breath though. That's one Christmas miracle that isn't going to happen.
I trust that someone of your standard can read, right?
Troy reaches into her purse that was conveniently placed on a leather sitting chair and pulls out two facsimilied pieces of paper. She beckons for the camera to zoom in.
One piece of paper is an old birth certificate. The camera zooms in on the name: "Lindsay Stroizzi".
The next piece of paper is a change of name form. The new name that is shown is "Lindsay Troy". The camera pans down to the bottom of the form where two signatures are. One of the signatures is that of Troy's father.
The camera zooms out, and Troy places the documents on top of her purse.
Ya'see Cameron, I have a last name. Actually, I've had two, but my father found it pertinent to change my birth name.
Call it a safety precaution. Call it coincidence. Hell, call it a reference to Helen of Troy if that suits your fancy. Point being is that in my and my sister's best interest, my father changed our last names for our own protection.
I don't need anyone's assurance about how good you like to think you are. Bottom line, you couldn't hack it against me, and now I shall revel in the massacre.
To my next opponent, whether it be Rob Sampson or Christian Sands, I do hope that one of you gives me a better run for my money in Round 2. I'd hate to be disappointed twice in one night.
It's been a real slice of heaven, Cameron. Time to send you back to whatever mediocre hell you came from.
Fade...
H
Hex Angel
Guest
Darkness.
"My phone hasn't rang at all... probably because I don't have a phone on the road and nobody has my wife's cellular number. My only contact with the outside world is the TV on the bus."
"And I'm fine with that... filters out a lotta the ****."
Still darkness.
"Cam, let me be blunt."
FADEIN: Eli Flair, sitting on the steps of the Valerian's Garden tourbus.
"You bother me."
He had two blue streaks in his hair, had a laminate clipped to his black leather trenchcoat, and seemed oblivious to the hustle and bustle around him.
"Sure, you're a fixture in the wrestling business. Consistently decent, never tried to play politics as far as I know, always an average or better match."
"But you have this personality defect where you think you're actually someone in the wrestling business. You have this problem where you like to name - drop like it'll get you somewhere."
"Which is fine by me... I couldn't care less. But you said my name... you told Lindsay Troy to call me up and ask me about you. See, I don't know Lindsay Troy and thusly, she hasn't called me. But I know you, Cam... and from what I can tell about you and your 'best'... have we everwrestled before? Have you ever been more than a momentary distraction for me?"
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to belittle anything you've done in this business. I'm just being honest about the kind of impact you've left on my life. To be honest, you should consider yourself lucky that I even remember your name."
He cracked his neck.
"Run your own accomplishments down, one at a time, Cam. Just be sure you include planning more than one wedding, solely because you didn't think the CSWA fans could live the rest of their life if you didn't tie the knot live, on pay- per- view."
"That's not a wedding. That's a publicity stunt. That's a vain attempt for you to have a following, a handful, a single, solitary fan, who actually gave a crap about your wedding."
"You're the Crippler. Have you ever crippled anyone?"
"I have. Does that make me more of a crippler than you?"
"I've put women through tables. I've put myself and my opponent into a twenty foot freefall down to the mat, solely to soak in the cheers from the people. I wrestled the most dangerous man on the planet in a Barbed Wire match for a title belt that I transformed from the least, to most respected championship belt in the fWo because I believed in the principle."
"Give me a call, Lindz... I'll tell you about how Cameron Cruise's biggest fan is Cameron Cruise himself. I'll tell you about how Cameron Cruise cares more about other people getting a reaction out of his promos and matches than the fact that he's a dime a dozen."
"Get mad, Cam... do something unexpected. Do something out of the ordinary. Do something to make the fans remember your name. Just remember.... you can say whatever you want, and it's not gonna make the people give a ****. It's not until you do something about it that you become more than a faceless minion."
"Just remember... you got in Troy Windham's face, Hornet's face, and Craig Miles' face all at the same time without having a stitch of hope of getting your hand raised against any of them. Having high- profile opponents make you their ***** doesn't get you headlines, Cam..."
"But I'm not helping, am I? You don't need to listen to me because you're bigger than that, right? Cameron Cruise is actually somebody in the world of professional wrestling, right?"
"Of course he is."
Eli stood up, and turned around toward the bus interior.
"Just ask him."
FADE
"My phone hasn't rang at all... probably because I don't have a phone on the road and nobody has my wife's cellular number. My only contact with the outside world is the TV on the bus."
"And I'm fine with that... filters out a lotta the ****."
Still darkness.
"Cam, let me be blunt."
FADEIN: Eli Flair, sitting on the steps of the Valerian's Garden tourbus.
"You bother me."
He had two blue streaks in his hair, had a laminate clipped to his black leather trenchcoat, and seemed oblivious to the hustle and bustle around him.
"Sure, you're a fixture in the wrestling business. Consistently decent, never tried to play politics as far as I know, always an average or better match."
"But you have this personality defect where you think you're actually someone in the wrestling business. You have this problem where you like to name - drop like it'll get you somewhere."
"Which is fine by me... I couldn't care less. But you said my name... you told Lindsay Troy to call me up and ask me about you. See, I don't know Lindsay Troy and thusly, she hasn't called me. But I know you, Cam... and from what I can tell about you and your 'best'... have we everwrestled before? Have you ever been more than a momentary distraction for me?"
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to belittle anything you've done in this business. I'm just being honest about the kind of impact you've left on my life. To be honest, you should consider yourself lucky that I even remember your name."
He cracked his neck.
"Run your own accomplishments down, one at a time, Cam. Just be sure you include planning more than one wedding, solely because you didn't think the CSWA fans could live the rest of their life if you didn't tie the knot live, on pay- per- view."
"That's not a wedding. That's a publicity stunt. That's a vain attempt for you to have a following, a handful, a single, solitary fan, who actually gave a crap about your wedding."
"You're the Crippler. Have you ever crippled anyone?"
"I have. Does that make me more of a crippler than you?"
"I've put women through tables. I've put myself and my opponent into a twenty foot freefall down to the mat, solely to soak in the cheers from the people. I wrestled the most dangerous man on the planet in a Barbed Wire match for a title belt that I transformed from the least, to most respected championship belt in the fWo because I believed in the principle."
"Give me a call, Lindz... I'll tell you about how Cameron Cruise's biggest fan is Cameron Cruise himself. I'll tell you about how Cameron Cruise cares more about other people getting a reaction out of his promos and matches than the fact that he's a dime a dozen."
"Get mad, Cam... do something unexpected. Do something out of the ordinary. Do something to make the fans remember your name. Just remember.... you can say whatever you want, and it's not gonna make the people give a ****. It's not until you do something about it that you become more than a faceless minion."
"Just remember... you got in Troy Windham's face, Hornet's face, and Craig Miles' face all at the same time without having a stitch of hope of getting your hand raised against any of them. Having high- profile opponents make you their ***** doesn't get you headlines, Cam..."
"But I'm not helping, am I? You don't need to listen to me because you're bigger than that, right? Cameron Cruise is actually somebody in the world of professional wrestling, right?"
"Of course he is."
Eli stood up, and turned around toward the bus interior.
"Just ask him."
FADE
DarkReign666
Banned
Fade In...
In full Johnny Starr attire somewhere in Britain Starr sits inside a classy Restaurant where nothing but wealthy people enjoy fine whine and expensive foods. Men's wives are dressed in ball room dresses and the husbands are dressed in black and white ball room tuxedo’s.
Glancing at the menu Starr calls over a waitress that is nearest to him and as she walks over to him she stands 5’11” and looks about 120 lbs and has legs that go all the way up. She wears a silky evening blouse and black mini skirt. Her long black wavy hair stretches down to her waist. She leans over to Johnny’s table as he can’t help but stare at her enormous, extravagant breasts that stick out like a sore thumb.
Waitress - Hello sir, are you ready to order your entree?
Starr - Not just yet, but shortly. I need a bottle of your best champagne! Because I drink nothing but the best anywhere I go.
Waitress - I see, just a moment, I’ll be right back with that sir.
Starr - Hello GXW fans! Didn’t notice you were watching! { Starr leans over to the camera } Did you see what I saw? { Starr clears his throat then leans back in his chair } So Johnny Starr has finally arrived to the GXW! It’s been quite a trip so far. Was that circus fun or what? Wherever Johnny Starr goes, I become the main attraction! Ah here comes my drink!
Waitress - Here you go sir! It’s from 1977, I heard from allot customers tonight that it’s very tasteful.
Starr - Thank you, I’m sure it is.
Waitress - Are you with the circus that is in town this week? I hope you don’t mind me saying so but I saw you there, I was in the audience with my 2 year old son. I just have to say you were very entertaining!
Starr - Oh was I? Indeed! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr is always entertaining wherever I go! Just like come Battle Ground Britain! GXW will see a true star in the ring! As I get set to tackle on this World Title shot Tournament! That’s right, you heard me GXW fans! Mr. Incredible is going to enter himself as a contestant in this World Title Shot Tournament at Battle Ground Britain!
Waitress - Well I wish you allot of luck, if you say your as entertaining as you are I just might hand out my phone number...
Starr - { Starr leans to the camera again and grins }
Starr - Your a sweetie, how about an autograph? Because when this Tournament is over, Mr. Incredible will be the winner! Johnny Starr will be the one on the rise to be facing the World Heavyweight Champion! It’s not a fact, it isn’t a wish, it’s not a dream. It’s just going to happen because wherever I go, success follows me everywhere! Cocky? No sir... It’s called confidence! I’m predicting the new year of 2004 to be Johnny Starr’s year! What a way to start off 2004 when I become the GXW World Heavyweight Champion!
Waitress - I bet you have to face many others though?
Starr - Baby cakes... Let me tell you a secret to success. If you think for one second and give yourself any doubt, you might as well call it quits now! You see, Johnny Starr knows only one thing, that is I am #1!!! Johnny Starr is the cream of the crop! I haven’t gotten where I am because I dwell in sorrow. No way baby! Starr outclasses many GXW superstars! Not only am I in the greatest shape of my life, I already got it all... The physique! Money! and... Fame! Need I say more!?
Waitress - You seem sure of yourself!
Starr - With every damn good reason. And why the heck not!? Starr is only here for one thing and one thing only! I am 100% going to add that GXW Title to my trophy room whether those like it or not! They don’t need somebody mediocre like Gabriele Poe, or a fat someone who needs a desperate diet Lindsay Troy... Or a washed up has been like Robby Sampsonite, or whatever he calls himself these days. Or how about.... Oh yes Poe’s tag team partner, can’t forget that guy. They call him a good candidate? Ha! Ever heard the old saying X-Marks the spot? Well for Good God Kevin Powers it’s more like X-Marks the spot for capital L for LOSER!
Starr - What I find hilarious is there some guy on the roster who calls himself the clapper!? Buddy! Wake up and take a sniff of that smelling salt! Snap back into reality, or is it you just been hanging around 42nd street in NYC too much?
Waitress - Hey, you better be careful, you might not make too many friends there...
Starr - Honey, there are no friends in this sport! It’s one for all and all for one! Besides do you think you can climb to the top by making friends in this business? HELL NO! The only friend I’ll have is that strap they call the GXW World Heavyweight Title! Nothing will stop me from capturing what has my name written all over it! Not only will I win this tournament, I’m going to take that title home! Where it belongs! I can go on and on as there is a huge list of ridiculous people who call themselves athletes around here...
There’s only room for one star in this company! Something amazing will happen to this tournament.... no there won’t, something INCREDIBLE WILL HAPPEN! That’s me, being on top! MR. INCREDIBLE JOHNNY STARR!!!!
Fade Out....
In full Johnny Starr attire somewhere in Britain Starr sits inside a classy Restaurant where nothing but wealthy people enjoy fine whine and expensive foods. Men's wives are dressed in ball room dresses and the husbands are dressed in black and white ball room tuxedo’s.
Glancing at the menu Starr calls over a waitress that is nearest to him and as she walks over to him she stands 5’11” and looks about 120 lbs and has legs that go all the way up. She wears a silky evening blouse and black mini skirt. Her long black wavy hair stretches down to her waist. She leans over to Johnny’s table as he can’t help but stare at her enormous, extravagant breasts that stick out like a sore thumb.
Waitress - Hello sir, are you ready to order your entree?
Starr - Not just yet, but shortly. I need a bottle of your best champagne! Because I drink nothing but the best anywhere I go.
Waitress - I see, just a moment, I’ll be right back with that sir.
Starr - Hello GXW fans! Didn’t notice you were watching! { Starr leans over to the camera } Did you see what I saw? { Starr clears his throat then leans back in his chair } So Johnny Starr has finally arrived to the GXW! It’s been quite a trip so far. Was that circus fun or what? Wherever Johnny Starr goes, I become the main attraction! Ah here comes my drink!
Waitress - Here you go sir! It’s from 1977, I heard from allot customers tonight that it’s very tasteful.
Starr - Thank you, I’m sure it is.
Waitress - Are you with the circus that is in town this week? I hope you don’t mind me saying so but I saw you there, I was in the audience with my 2 year old son. I just have to say you were very entertaining!
Starr - Oh was I? Indeed! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr is always entertaining wherever I go! Just like come Battle Ground Britain! GXW will see a true star in the ring! As I get set to tackle on this World Title shot Tournament! That’s right, you heard me GXW fans! Mr. Incredible is going to enter himself as a contestant in this World Title Shot Tournament at Battle Ground Britain!
Waitress - Well I wish you allot of luck, if you say your as entertaining as you are I just might hand out my phone number...
Starr - { Starr leans to the camera again and grins }
Starr - Your a sweetie, how about an autograph? Because when this Tournament is over, Mr. Incredible will be the winner! Johnny Starr will be the one on the rise to be facing the World Heavyweight Champion! It’s not a fact, it isn’t a wish, it’s not a dream. It’s just going to happen because wherever I go, success follows me everywhere! Cocky? No sir... It’s called confidence! I’m predicting the new year of 2004 to be Johnny Starr’s year! What a way to start off 2004 when I become the GXW World Heavyweight Champion!
Waitress - I bet you have to face many others though?
Starr - Baby cakes... Let me tell you a secret to success. If you think for one second and give yourself any doubt, you might as well call it quits now! You see, Johnny Starr knows only one thing, that is I am #1!!! Johnny Starr is the cream of the crop! I haven’t gotten where I am because I dwell in sorrow. No way baby! Starr outclasses many GXW superstars! Not only am I in the greatest shape of my life, I already got it all... The physique! Money! and... Fame! Need I say more!?
Waitress - You seem sure of yourself!
Starr - With every damn good reason. And why the heck not!? Starr is only here for one thing and one thing only! I am 100% going to add that GXW Title to my trophy room whether those like it or not! They don’t need somebody mediocre like Gabriele Poe, or a fat someone who needs a desperate diet Lindsay Troy... Or a washed up has been like Robby Sampsonite, or whatever he calls himself these days. Or how about.... Oh yes Poe’s tag team partner, can’t forget that guy. They call him a good candidate? Ha! Ever heard the old saying X-Marks the spot? Well for Good God Kevin Powers it’s more like X-Marks the spot for capital L for LOSER!
Starr - What I find hilarious is there some guy on the roster who calls himself the clapper!? Buddy! Wake up and take a sniff of that smelling salt! Snap back into reality, or is it you just been hanging around 42nd street in NYC too much?
Waitress - Hey, you better be careful, you might not make too many friends there...
Starr - Honey, there are no friends in this sport! It’s one for all and all for one! Besides do you think you can climb to the top by making friends in this business? HELL NO! The only friend I’ll have is that strap they call the GXW World Heavyweight Title! Nothing will stop me from capturing what has my name written all over it! Not only will I win this tournament, I’m going to take that title home! Where it belongs! I can go on and on as there is a huge list of ridiculous people who call themselves athletes around here...
There’s only room for one star in this company! Something amazing will happen to this tournament.... no there won’t, something INCREDIBLE WILL HAPPEN! That’s me, being on top! MR. INCREDIBLE JOHNNY STARR!!!!
Fade Out....
CuseTroy
League Member
The Only Thing That Ever Mattered...
Battered...
14 operations. Constant back and knee pain for the last 4 years. Five concussions. Career supposed over time and time again. The pain doesn't subside, but rather serves as a reminder of every obstacle that's had to be passed to get to this point, right here, right now. Battered, but did they stop me? No.
Broken...
Everyone I ever cared about ended up passing onto some greater voyage. My mother, who left before I ever knew her. My closest friend, busted for drug possession and in prison. My father, murdered in his own home. The love of my life, killed while visiting my dad. Tough life? Hell yes. Would I trade all the money and fame to get them back? Hell yes. Broken, but have I let that stop me? No.
Down, but Never Out...
FADE IN
Troy Douglas sits alone in the dimly lit corner of a pub in Cardiff, Wales, where the former GXW X-treme Champion is staying in preparation for Battleground Britain at the dawn of 2004. His dinner cleared away, Troy sits at his table with a glass of ale in his right hand. He sees the GXW cameraman standing across the room, and checks the silver watch on his left wrist. He puts down his beer and pays the hostess, before greeting the cameraman with a handshake and moving to a clear area outside.
"The end is nigh."
"Six months of rehabilitation all come down to this, a field of some of professional wrestling's finest talent in front of me and a shot at the world championship on the line. Daunting task, ain't it?"
Troy laughs to himself and turns back to the camera.
"Dan Ryan. Kevin Powers. Rob Sampson. Cameron Cruise. A host of the great names of today's wrestling universe. And then, there's me. Troy Douglas. Accomplished, but still relatively anonymous among the superstars of the world. Seems hopeless for me, doesn't it?"
"Well, I disagree. The thing is, there's only one thing that really matters. The shot at that luminous golden belt that sits at the end of the rainbow is the only thing that matters to me. I won't make any claims that it's my title or that I'm just gonna walk through this field straight to John Miller at Millennium Stadium on New Year's Day. That's not what I do. I am, and will always be, a realist. My chances are slim, damn slim indeed. But hey, I've never let that stop me before."
"Yes, I am a realist. But I'm also a dreamer. That World Title belt has sat in my sights for far too long, and this might be the best shot I ever get to strap it around my waist. It's not for the money, or the fame, or the adoration of the fans. No, this is all about reaching the summit that I have yet to reach. I don't like to waste opportunities. It's not about asking questions anymore, it's about answering to my demons. My shot is here, and I'll be damned if I let anyone take it away from me. Like I said, it won't be easy. But, when the last page of this tale is written, and the book is finally closed, one thing will be clear. I will not have given up my shot at that belt, the only thing that ever mattered, without giving up everything I've got."
"Those are my words, straight from the horses mouth. Take 'em or leave 'em, but don't take me lightly. That's it for me."
Troy walks to the camera, shakes the operators hand, and reaches up to the top of the camera to touch the "POWER" button as we...
...FADE TO BLACK
Battered...
14 operations. Constant back and knee pain for the last 4 years. Five concussions. Career supposed over time and time again. The pain doesn't subside, but rather serves as a reminder of every obstacle that's had to be passed to get to this point, right here, right now. Battered, but did they stop me? No.
Broken...
Everyone I ever cared about ended up passing onto some greater voyage. My mother, who left before I ever knew her. My closest friend, busted for drug possession and in prison. My father, murdered in his own home. The love of my life, killed while visiting my dad. Tough life? Hell yes. Would I trade all the money and fame to get them back? Hell yes. Broken, but have I let that stop me? No.
Down, but Never Out...
FADE IN
Troy Douglas sits alone in the dimly lit corner of a pub in Cardiff, Wales, where the former GXW X-treme Champion is staying in preparation for Battleground Britain at the dawn of 2004. His dinner cleared away, Troy sits at his table with a glass of ale in his right hand. He sees the GXW cameraman standing across the room, and checks the silver watch on his left wrist. He puts down his beer and pays the hostess, before greeting the cameraman with a handshake and moving to a clear area outside.
"The end is nigh."
"Six months of rehabilitation all come down to this, a field of some of professional wrestling's finest talent in front of me and a shot at the world championship on the line. Daunting task, ain't it?"
Troy laughs to himself and turns back to the camera.
"Dan Ryan. Kevin Powers. Rob Sampson. Cameron Cruise. A host of the great names of today's wrestling universe. And then, there's me. Troy Douglas. Accomplished, but still relatively anonymous among the superstars of the world. Seems hopeless for me, doesn't it?"
"Well, I disagree. The thing is, there's only one thing that really matters. The shot at that luminous golden belt that sits at the end of the rainbow is the only thing that matters to me. I won't make any claims that it's my title or that I'm just gonna walk through this field straight to John Miller at Millennium Stadium on New Year's Day. That's not what I do. I am, and will always be, a realist. My chances are slim, damn slim indeed. But hey, I've never let that stop me before."
"Yes, I am a realist. But I'm also a dreamer. That World Title belt has sat in my sights for far too long, and this might be the best shot I ever get to strap it around my waist. It's not for the money, or the fame, or the adoration of the fans. No, this is all about reaching the summit that I have yet to reach. I don't like to waste opportunities. It's not about asking questions anymore, it's about answering to my demons. My shot is here, and I'll be damned if I let anyone take it away from me. Like I said, it won't be easy. But, when the last page of this tale is written, and the book is finally closed, one thing will be clear. I will not have given up my shot at that belt, the only thing that ever mattered, without giving up everything I've got."
"Those are my words, straight from the horses mouth. Take 'em or leave 'em, but don't take me lightly. That's it for me."
Troy walks to the camera, shakes the operators hand, and reaches up to the top of the camera to touch the "POWER" button as we...
...FADE TO BLACK
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, wearing a black midriff shirt that shows off her washboard stomach and tight blue jeans. She gives the camera a look of incredulous horror.
I'm sorry. I must have missed a memo somewhere, because I'm sure if I had gotten the one entitled: "F*cking Moron Spews Sh*t, Beware", I would have turned my television off once Johnny Starr decided to open his big mouth.
It's a far cry from TPS reports, let me tell you...
Excuse me, but EYE am fat? I'm sorry, but I didn't think that having a nice stomach and toned arms was considered fat. Maybe in your world where the sky is green and pigs fly that's considered "fat". But, I guess not EVERYONE can be an anorexic skeleton like your waitress over there. I should consider myself lucky that I don't look like I just walked out of an Anatomy and Physiology class where students poked and prodded me, wondering which bone is the fibula and which bone is the tibula. Maybe on her break you could buy her a sandwich or five. I think she needs them more than you do.
I'm sure that I'm one of maybe ten people that watched that monstrosity of a promo, but I'm sure I'm not the only one in concurrance that your speech there was about as entertaining as dead air on your local Spanish channel. Susie Servicegirl must be pretty desperate if she's giving you her phone number.
You think you're upper class, Johnny Starr. But, you're just a horse's ass. I'm sure if you ask Susie nicely she'll muck out your stall for you. After all, someone needs to take care of you, because you obviously can't do it yourself.
How appropriate that your one and only promo for the title tournament was late and taking place at a circus. You should consider a name change. "Mr. Incredible" doesn't suit you. Perhaps "Mr. Punctuality" would be a better fit.
So what now? You try and better your chances of advancing by showing up at some roach-infested hole in the wall, trying to pass it off as some sort of five-star establishment, only to continuously blather on about absolutely nothing of relevance. Clearly you need a refresher course in your competition, or a new lesson in insults, because your education in both subjects is seriously lacking any merit.
For you to obtain the GXW World Heavyweight Title would be over my dead body, so you'd better think up some clever way of killing me within the next few hours in a way that isn't consistent with your pathetic attempt at a war of words.
Do us all a favor: shut the hell up and leave the talking to those of us who are articulate enough to form intelligent thoughts and coherent sentences. You're not solely incredible, Johnny...you're incredibly stupid. So, just sit in the corner like the dunce you are and take notes. You've got a lot to learn, and class is almost over. For your sake, I'd pray to whatever diety you believe in that you try to at least warrant a somewhat passing grade, because I'd hate to have to see you when you fail.
And, you will fail Johnny. You'll fail miserably, and the only sound you're going to be hearing is my laughter ringing in your ears afterwards.
Troy Douglas...I hope for your sake that you're not related to Aaron Douglas, because if you are, I'm goin to give you his share of the beating that I would have given him at NFW's All-Star Week since he's not man enough to suck up the injuries that I gave him and answer my challenge like the "man" he is.
If you're not related to him...well, you just bettered your chances of not ending up in a hospital bed due to my wrath. But, that's not to say that you won't end up in a hospital bed anyway should we meet in the tournament.
I can understand the fact that you're coming back from an injury, and I can respect the fact that you're approaching this tournament with a level head. To me, you don't seem like all that bad a guy. I'll take your words with more than a grain of salt. So congratulations, you can rejoice at the fact that I'm taking you more seriously than anyone who's spoken out and mentioned me (directly and indirectly) yet; at least, to the best of my knowledge anyway.
Well boys, as always...the pleasure was all yours, I'm sure. Until we talk again...
The camera starts to fade out, but pauses to allow Troy one more minute of face time.
Oh, and Eli...I'll save the phone call for another time. Perhaps you and I can discuss things at the PPV. After all, I'm interested in meeting your friend, Ivy. Seems to me like she and I have a lot in common, hm?
I await your answer.
Fade...
I'm sorry. I must have missed a memo somewhere, because I'm sure if I had gotten the one entitled: "F*cking Moron Spews Sh*t, Beware", I would have turned my television off once Johnny Starr decided to open his big mouth.
It's a far cry from TPS reports, let me tell you...
Excuse me, but EYE am fat? I'm sorry, but I didn't think that having a nice stomach and toned arms was considered fat. Maybe in your world where the sky is green and pigs fly that's considered "fat". But, I guess not EVERYONE can be an anorexic skeleton like your waitress over there. I should consider myself lucky that I don't look like I just walked out of an Anatomy and Physiology class where students poked and prodded me, wondering which bone is the fibula and which bone is the tibula. Maybe on her break you could buy her a sandwich or five. I think she needs them more than you do.
I'm sure that I'm one of maybe ten people that watched that monstrosity of a promo, but I'm sure I'm not the only one in concurrance that your speech there was about as entertaining as dead air on your local Spanish channel. Susie Servicegirl must be pretty desperate if she's giving you her phone number.
You think you're upper class, Johnny Starr. But, you're just a horse's ass. I'm sure if you ask Susie nicely she'll muck out your stall for you. After all, someone needs to take care of you, because you obviously can't do it yourself.
How appropriate that your one and only promo for the title tournament was late and taking place at a circus. You should consider a name change. "Mr. Incredible" doesn't suit you. Perhaps "Mr. Punctuality" would be a better fit.
So what now? You try and better your chances of advancing by showing up at some roach-infested hole in the wall, trying to pass it off as some sort of five-star establishment, only to continuously blather on about absolutely nothing of relevance. Clearly you need a refresher course in your competition, or a new lesson in insults, because your education in both subjects is seriously lacking any merit.
For you to obtain the GXW World Heavyweight Title would be over my dead body, so you'd better think up some clever way of killing me within the next few hours in a way that isn't consistent with your pathetic attempt at a war of words.
Do us all a favor: shut the hell up and leave the talking to those of us who are articulate enough to form intelligent thoughts and coherent sentences. You're not solely incredible, Johnny...you're incredibly stupid. So, just sit in the corner like the dunce you are and take notes. You've got a lot to learn, and class is almost over. For your sake, I'd pray to whatever diety you believe in that you try to at least warrant a somewhat passing grade, because I'd hate to have to see you when you fail.
And, you will fail Johnny. You'll fail miserably, and the only sound you're going to be hearing is my laughter ringing in your ears afterwards.
Troy Douglas...I hope for your sake that you're not related to Aaron Douglas, because if you are, I'm goin to give you his share of the beating that I would have given him at NFW's All-Star Week since he's not man enough to suck up the injuries that I gave him and answer my challenge like the "man" he is.
If you're not related to him...well, you just bettered your chances of not ending up in a hospital bed due to my wrath. But, that's not to say that you won't end up in a hospital bed anyway should we meet in the tournament.
I can understand the fact that you're coming back from an injury, and I can respect the fact that you're approaching this tournament with a level head. To me, you don't seem like all that bad a guy. I'll take your words with more than a grain of salt. So congratulations, you can rejoice at the fact that I'm taking you more seriously than anyone who's spoken out and mentioned me (directly and indirectly) yet; at least, to the best of my knowledge anyway.
Well boys, as always...the pleasure was all yours, I'm sure. Until we talk again...
The camera starts to fade out, but pauses to allow Troy one more minute of face time.
Oh, and Eli...I'll save the phone call for another time. Perhaps you and I can discuss things at the PPV. After all, I'm interested in meeting your friend, Ivy. Seems to me like she and I have a lot in common, hm?
I await your answer.
Fade...
Tha numba one stunna...
(FADE IN to the set of Wrestling Insider hosted by Jason Grant. Grant is seated in a large leather chair with an identical on next to him. He looks at his clipboard and then into the camera.)
JG: Hello wrestling fans and welcome to another exciting edition of Wrestling Insider. My guest tonight is the current GXW Continental champion and he is always a treat to have on the show. Everybody, give it up for Boogie Smallz!
(“Black Superman” by Above The Law cranks up. Boogie steps out onto the set. He is wearing an Xtreme Enough t-shirt and black jeans. He has the Continental title draped over his shoulder and an unlit blunt resting behind his ear. He takes a seat next to Grant and gives him a nod as to say what’s up. The music dies down and Grant begins to speak.)
JG: Boogie, great to have you on the show.
BS: Thanks, it’s good to be herre.
JG: Boogie, let’s get down to it, shall we? You are coming off of a win in a huge triangle-double title match. You have a disqualification victory over the Unified champion, John Miller.
BS: I’m sure that’s all good if our standings were based off of the BCS. I bet that would help me out a whole lot in tha strength of schedule category. But we’re not based off of that. It’s all about who you beat and what you have to show for it. I have done tha only thing I know how…beat erryone that tha suits deemed as a top contender for tha Continental title. I have made this belt… (Holds up the Continental title.) tha premiere title in GXW. (Rests the belt back on his shoulder.)
JG: Surely you must be joking. We are talking about the GXW Unified title, the richest prize in the sport.
BS: Yeah, but it’s also about tha man holdin’ tha belt too. John Miller is a tough bastard, no denyin’ that. He is a guy that reps GX-Dub to tha fullest. But, he’s got too many distractions. He’s all worried about guys that aren’t on his level, like Kin Hiroshi. He’s too concerned with outsiders comin’ in and invadin’ GXW. He’s all stressin’ about his rankin’ in tha FWI Magazine Top Ten. What he should have been worryin’ about after Revolution isn’t none of that ish…he should have been worried about me pickin’ up a victory over him. But he wasn’t. And since he didn’t give me a rematch, like I said before, I’ll just go out and earn it.
JG: Don’t you think you have done so already?
BS: Apparently not. I guess you have to poison a few people to get noticed around herre.
JG: I’m sure that is not the case. Your first round match-up is against Eric Davis. If you somehow get past him, who would you like to see in the next round?
BS: It can be anybody; it really doesn’t matter to me. I just want what I feel I am entitled to…and that’s a title rematch with John Miller. Walkin’ away from that match with nothin’ to show for it but tha title I walked in carryin’, well…it’s left me with an empty feelin’. It also left me wonderin’ what if I had tha match like I wanted it, one on one, would tha outcome had been different? Would be I wearin’ both titles now? Guess tha only way for me to find out is win this tournament and then move on to what tha entire GXW audience is dyin’ to see…me with a Unified title shot.
JG: I’m sure a bunch of other GXW superstars would have something to say about that. This is the very best our company has to offer.
BS: Sounds good to me. I like friendly competition. (Grins.) Jay-Gee, I got tha urge.
JG: The urge?
BS: Tha urge…to herbal.
(Boogie reaches behind his ear and lights up his blunt. The studio quickly fills up with smoke and Grant looks to have caught a contact high.)
JG: (Coughing.) I don’t think I can hang around this much longer. The smoke is messing with my contacts. (Coughs.)
BS: You’re a lightweight, you can’t hang with me. Go on, get to steppin’.
(Boogie takes a huge puff off of his blunt and blows the smoke directly into Jason Grant’s face. He starts coughing uncontrollably and quickly gets up and leaves the set.)
BS: Guess it’s just me now. Tha same damn way it’s gonna be at Battleground when I win tha tournament. I know you bustas out therre don’t wanna hearr it, but that’s just tha way it is. I’m the blunt-smokin’, hoe chokin’, leave their panties soakin’, not to be confused as tha token…black man. (Puffs his blunt.) Ya best be scurred and ya best BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(Boogie gets out of his seat and walks off the set. FADE TO BLACK.)
(FADE IN to the set of Wrestling Insider hosted by Jason Grant. Grant is seated in a large leather chair with an identical on next to him. He looks at his clipboard and then into the camera.)
JG: Hello wrestling fans and welcome to another exciting edition of Wrestling Insider. My guest tonight is the current GXW Continental champion and he is always a treat to have on the show. Everybody, give it up for Boogie Smallz!
(“Black Superman” by Above The Law cranks up. Boogie steps out onto the set. He is wearing an Xtreme Enough t-shirt and black jeans. He has the Continental title draped over his shoulder and an unlit blunt resting behind his ear. He takes a seat next to Grant and gives him a nod as to say what’s up. The music dies down and Grant begins to speak.)
JG: Boogie, great to have you on the show.
BS: Thanks, it’s good to be herre.
JG: Boogie, let’s get down to it, shall we? You are coming off of a win in a huge triangle-double title match. You have a disqualification victory over the Unified champion, John Miller.
BS: I’m sure that’s all good if our standings were based off of the BCS. I bet that would help me out a whole lot in tha strength of schedule category. But we’re not based off of that. It’s all about who you beat and what you have to show for it. I have done tha only thing I know how…beat erryone that tha suits deemed as a top contender for tha Continental title. I have made this belt… (Holds up the Continental title.) tha premiere title in GXW. (Rests the belt back on his shoulder.)
JG: Surely you must be joking. We are talking about the GXW Unified title, the richest prize in the sport.
BS: Yeah, but it’s also about tha man holdin’ tha belt too. John Miller is a tough bastard, no denyin’ that. He is a guy that reps GX-Dub to tha fullest. But, he’s got too many distractions. He’s all worried about guys that aren’t on his level, like Kin Hiroshi. He’s too concerned with outsiders comin’ in and invadin’ GXW. He’s all stressin’ about his rankin’ in tha FWI Magazine Top Ten. What he should have been worryin’ about after Revolution isn’t none of that ish…he should have been worried about me pickin’ up a victory over him. But he wasn’t. And since he didn’t give me a rematch, like I said before, I’ll just go out and earn it.
JG: Don’t you think you have done so already?
BS: Apparently not. I guess you have to poison a few people to get noticed around herre.
JG: I’m sure that is not the case. Your first round match-up is against Eric Davis. If you somehow get past him, who would you like to see in the next round?
BS: It can be anybody; it really doesn’t matter to me. I just want what I feel I am entitled to…and that’s a title rematch with John Miller. Walkin’ away from that match with nothin’ to show for it but tha title I walked in carryin’, well…it’s left me with an empty feelin’. It also left me wonderin’ what if I had tha match like I wanted it, one on one, would tha outcome had been different? Would be I wearin’ both titles now? Guess tha only way for me to find out is win this tournament and then move on to what tha entire GXW audience is dyin’ to see…me with a Unified title shot.
JG: I’m sure a bunch of other GXW superstars would have something to say about that. This is the very best our company has to offer.
BS: Sounds good to me. I like friendly competition. (Grins.) Jay-Gee, I got tha urge.
JG: The urge?
BS: Tha urge…to herbal.
(Boogie reaches behind his ear and lights up his blunt. The studio quickly fills up with smoke and Grant looks to have caught a contact high.)
JG: (Coughing.) I don’t think I can hang around this much longer. The smoke is messing with my contacts. (Coughs.)
BS: You’re a lightweight, you can’t hang with me. Go on, get to steppin’.
(Boogie takes a huge puff off of his blunt and blows the smoke directly into Jason Grant’s face. He starts coughing uncontrollably and quickly gets up and leaves the set.)
BS: Guess it’s just me now. Tha same damn way it’s gonna be at Battleground when I win tha tournament. I know you bustas out therre don’t wanna hearr it, but that’s just tha way it is. I’m the blunt-smokin’, hoe chokin’, leave their panties soakin’, not to be confused as tha token…black man. (Puffs his blunt.) Ya best be scurred and ya best BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(Boogie gets out of his seat and walks off the set. FADE TO BLACK.)
JABolich
League Member
(FADEIN: Nothing fancy, just a plain white backdrop. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits on a steel folding chair in front of it, wearing his typical casual attire - black trenchcoat, black sweater, black pants, black Italian shoes, and Oakley shades. His hands are folded in his lap, and a faint smirk adorns his face.)
Sands: Well, well, well. It seems that my fortunes have reversed recently... haven't they, Rob Sampson? Don't get me wrong - I didn't see him at the time, but I couldn't miss the esteemed Mr. Blackshire when I reviewed the footage. But you and I both know that I had you right where I wanted you. Nevertheless, you proved to me that at least a spark of the old Rob Sampson remains alive. If you're ever in the mood for a rematch, I'm game. We'll see how long you last WITHOUT people clocking you with a chair.
But regardless... I've passed you by for now, Rob. Put you out in the first round of the tournament. I suggest dropping your moniker - because now, I am Mr. Main Event. As I told you before... this is my time.
In any case, it's time to move on.
As of now, GXW management has yet to send out official second-round brackets. Thus, I'll cover as many bases as I can.
First off... a few words for the Boogie Man over there. It's nice to dream, isn't it, Boog? Here you are, dreaming that you'll pull off a win in this tournament and go on to fight Miller again. Keep dreaming - because in the end, it will be ME who goes on to fight and defeat the Steel City Icon... and you in the process. Why? Because I can. You and I both know that the last two times we fought, you couldn't finish me off yourself - hence, the foreign objects and the age-old tactic of sitting back and letting Miller dump me through a table. Just gets harder for you every time, doesn't it? Next time, it'll be harder still - and the typical result will indeed be reversed.
Before you mock that statement, know this. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself. Coming into this tournament, I believed I was nothing - until I realized that I am whatever I make myself. And I intend to make myself World Heavyweight Champion... not to mention the man who came back against percieved insurmountable odds and handed you your ass. After all, what do I have to lose? Certainly a lot less than you do should you find yourself tapping out to a jobber like me.
Assuming, of course, you're man enough to get past Blackshire.
Now, moving on to someone I DON'T carry a violent hatred for... someone who, incidentally, seems likely to be my next opponent.
Hello, Ms. Troy.
Your outing against Cameron Cruise was impressive, but not entirely unexpected. Unlike the 'Crippler', I at least acknowledge that you've got skill enough to not only hang with the men in this business, but hand most of them humbling losses. Fortunately, the fact that I know of your abilities gives me a bit of an advantage. To be honest, I'm almost looking forward to the experience of wrestling you should the brackets stack up as expected. There's been a lot of hype about you, my dear, and seeing if you live up to it should prove enlightening.
I believe the subject of the FWI 250 was brought up during your bickering with Cruise - namely, your position as number 2. That's nice... but anybody with half a brain knows that a bunch of internet smarks can't be taken seriously. Some rankings system devised by a bunch of twelve-year-olds sitting on their parents' computer doesn't impress me. As I said, I realize you're good - but just HOW good remains to be seen.
Yes, the Crippler found himself bowing to the Queen. On the other hand, I bow to nobody. So come on, your Majesty. Bring what you've got. Come on down and I'll hand your royal ass a beating fit for a king. Because regardless of how good you are... you're still not good enough.
I think that covers everyone who bothered to send out a tape and hasn't been eliminated yet.
Oh, one more thing.
Miller, I'll be seeing you soon, and I'll be taking your title when I do it. Don't get cocky because I'm already booked against Rabesque - because I'm certainly good enough to wrestle twice in one night. Prior commitments or not, I'm still going to win this little tournament.
That's all of it.
Beware the Sandstorm.
Or should I say... Beware Mr. Main Event?
Heh heh heh...
(FADEOUT)
Sands: Well, well, well. It seems that my fortunes have reversed recently... haven't they, Rob Sampson? Don't get me wrong - I didn't see him at the time, but I couldn't miss the esteemed Mr. Blackshire when I reviewed the footage. But you and I both know that I had you right where I wanted you. Nevertheless, you proved to me that at least a spark of the old Rob Sampson remains alive. If you're ever in the mood for a rematch, I'm game. We'll see how long you last WITHOUT people clocking you with a chair.
But regardless... I've passed you by for now, Rob. Put you out in the first round of the tournament. I suggest dropping your moniker - because now, I am Mr. Main Event. As I told you before... this is my time.
In any case, it's time to move on.
As of now, GXW management has yet to send out official second-round brackets. Thus, I'll cover as many bases as I can.
First off... a few words for the Boogie Man over there. It's nice to dream, isn't it, Boog? Here you are, dreaming that you'll pull off a win in this tournament and go on to fight Miller again. Keep dreaming - because in the end, it will be ME who goes on to fight and defeat the Steel City Icon... and you in the process. Why? Because I can. You and I both know that the last two times we fought, you couldn't finish me off yourself - hence, the foreign objects and the age-old tactic of sitting back and letting Miller dump me through a table. Just gets harder for you every time, doesn't it? Next time, it'll be harder still - and the typical result will indeed be reversed.
Before you mock that statement, know this. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already said to myself. Coming into this tournament, I believed I was nothing - until I realized that I am whatever I make myself. And I intend to make myself World Heavyweight Champion... not to mention the man who came back against percieved insurmountable odds and handed you your ass. After all, what do I have to lose? Certainly a lot less than you do should you find yourself tapping out to a jobber like me.
Assuming, of course, you're man enough to get past Blackshire.
Now, moving on to someone I DON'T carry a violent hatred for... someone who, incidentally, seems likely to be my next opponent.
Hello, Ms. Troy.
Your outing against Cameron Cruise was impressive, but not entirely unexpected. Unlike the 'Crippler', I at least acknowledge that you've got skill enough to not only hang with the men in this business, but hand most of them humbling losses. Fortunately, the fact that I know of your abilities gives me a bit of an advantage. To be honest, I'm almost looking forward to the experience of wrestling you should the brackets stack up as expected. There's been a lot of hype about you, my dear, and seeing if you live up to it should prove enlightening.
I believe the subject of the FWI 250 was brought up during your bickering with Cruise - namely, your position as number 2. That's nice... but anybody with half a brain knows that a bunch of internet smarks can't be taken seriously. Some rankings system devised by a bunch of twelve-year-olds sitting on their parents' computer doesn't impress me. As I said, I realize you're good - but just HOW good remains to be seen.
Yes, the Crippler found himself bowing to the Queen. On the other hand, I bow to nobody. So come on, your Majesty. Bring what you've got. Come on down and I'll hand your royal ass a beating fit for a king. Because regardless of how good you are... you're still not good enough.
I think that covers everyone who bothered to send out a tape and hasn't been eliminated yet.
Oh, one more thing.
Miller, I'll be seeing you soon, and I'll be taking your title when I do it. Don't get cocky because I'm already booked against Rabesque - because I'm certainly good enough to wrestle twice in one night. Prior commitments or not, I'm still going to win this little tournament.
That's all of it.
Beware the Sandstorm.
Or should I say... Beware Mr. Main Event?
Heh heh heh...
(FADEOUT)
Last edited:
This blunts for you...
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz watching promos for the Battleground Britain Countdown. The footage ends after a Christian Sands promo. Boogie lights up a blunt, shakes his head, and smiles.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Man, herre I thought I was jus’ talkin’ to myself. Lil’ did I know, that runt Chrissy Sands was layin’ in tha cut tryin’ to jack my spotlight once again. Ya know, you are like a dingle-berry. Just clingin’ onto me and no matter how much I wipe you off, you still stick around. Guess if we cross paths again, I’ll jus’ have to scrub a lil’ harder. You wanna run your mouth about how I beat you tha last two times, go ‘head. But ain’t a futhamucka’ herre gonna believe you. Why? Because they witnessed it first hand…I straight up whooped yo’ punk ass and you couldn’t do a damn thang to stop me. I know it hurts to swallow your pride…but with you swallowin’ SO MUCH from Zieba to get a good spot in tha company, you should be used to it by now. Gives a new meanin’ to tha phrase, “good to tha last drop.” (Smiles)
(Boogie takes a puff of the blunt and then moves onto the next topic.)
But enough about you. I got more serious threats to deal with. Damn man, I got a World title shot to earn, I can’t be dealin’ with this bull-ish. It seems like GX-Dub is tryin’ to stack tha deck against me. As if Eric Davis in tha first round wasn’t enough, now I gotta handle my biz against a big bad ugly sonuvab!tch by tha name of Max Blackshire. I saw what you did to Sampson, costin’ him his match with Chrissy. I saw what you did to Troy Douglas and I know you might have a hometown advantage bein’ from England and all, but I’m focused man. I got tunnel-vision and tha only thing I see at tha end of that tunnel is me with tha Unified title.
(Puffing his blunt, he begins to mean mug the camera.)
What that means for you is this. I’m not half-steppin’. I have a goal and to reach it, I gotta go through you. Blackshire, I don’t give a ish how big and bad you claim to be. You try that ish with me…and you’ll get dealt with potna’! I’ve been foldin’ fools over for as long as I can remember and too damn bad you gotta be tha next one to get lullabyed! I’m headin’ to round three whether you like it or not. And ain’t a nownudda out therre that can stop me. If you think you can…bring it. I like a challenge. But that’s what erryone says when they end up opposite of me in that ring. In tha end, I usually leave as tha winner…and I don’t see that trend endin’ any time soon. BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BACK)
(FADEIN to Boogie Smallz watching promos for the Battleground Britain Countdown. The footage ends after a Christian Sands promo. Boogie lights up a blunt, shakes his head, and smiles.)
BOOGIE SMALLZ: Man, herre I thought I was jus’ talkin’ to myself. Lil’ did I know, that runt Chrissy Sands was layin’ in tha cut tryin’ to jack my spotlight once again. Ya know, you are like a dingle-berry. Just clingin’ onto me and no matter how much I wipe you off, you still stick around. Guess if we cross paths again, I’ll jus’ have to scrub a lil’ harder. You wanna run your mouth about how I beat you tha last two times, go ‘head. But ain’t a futhamucka’ herre gonna believe you. Why? Because they witnessed it first hand…I straight up whooped yo’ punk ass and you couldn’t do a damn thang to stop me. I know it hurts to swallow your pride…but with you swallowin’ SO MUCH from Zieba to get a good spot in tha company, you should be used to it by now. Gives a new meanin’ to tha phrase, “good to tha last drop.” (Smiles)
(Boogie takes a puff of the blunt and then moves onto the next topic.)
But enough about you. I got more serious threats to deal with. Damn man, I got a World title shot to earn, I can’t be dealin’ with this bull-ish. It seems like GX-Dub is tryin’ to stack tha deck against me. As if Eric Davis in tha first round wasn’t enough, now I gotta handle my biz against a big bad ugly sonuvab!tch by tha name of Max Blackshire. I saw what you did to Sampson, costin’ him his match with Chrissy. I saw what you did to Troy Douglas and I know you might have a hometown advantage bein’ from England and all, but I’m focused man. I got tunnel-vision and tha only thing I see at tha end of that tunnel is me with tha Unified title.
(Puffing his blunt, he begins to mean mug the camera.)
What that means for you is this. I’m not half-steppin’. I have a goal and to reach it, I gotta go through you. Blackshire, I don’t give a ish how big and bad you claim to be. You try that ish with me…and you’ll get dealt with potna’! I’ve been foldin’ fools over for as long as I can remember and too damn bad you gotta be tha next one to get lullabyed! I’m headin’ to round three whether you like it or not. And ain’t a nownudda out therre that can stop me. If you think you can…bring it. I like a challenge. But that’s what erryone says when they end up opposite of me in that ring. In tha end, I usually leave as tha winner…and I don’t see that trend endin’ any time soon. BELIEVE ‘DAT!
(FADE TO BACK)
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
How positively delightful...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing on a mahogany chair, lady and master of all she surveys {mistress sounds derrogatory to her character, no?} Her right hand is horizontal against her forehead, and she appears to be looking out through the camera and into the eyes of whomever might be watching.
Her head faces front, and she smirks before dropping her hand down to her hip, where her left hand is conveniently placed.
MISTER Sands, how nice of you to join me. I was getting ever so lonesome sitting in round two waiting on my opponent to be decided, and it's nice to see that you were kind enough to not keep me waiting for long.
Well, isn't this a funny little happenstance. You, sir, beat Rob Sampson. I suppose congratulations are in order, hm?
I'll have to remember to practice my curtsey.
Sarcastic smile.
And how nice of you to steal Sampson's name from him. Oh, this really is a treat, but you're forgetting one minor detail.
You're going to have to share that name with someone else, because from where I'm standing {which is still above you, might I add}, you had a little bit of help in securing that win. Looks to me that you're going to have to give half your newfound royalties to Mr. Blackshire. Are you prepared to share the wealth, Mister Sands?
While you're out there winning one for the gipper, those of us who were something of importance before showing up for the tournament are out there proving themselves.
One such person is me.
And yes, I know that I faced Cameron Cruise in the first round, so I didn't have to put out as much of an effort as I will in this round and the subsequent rounds that will follow.
Pause.
Oh dear me...I hope you didn't actually think that you were going to beat me in this round. My, such a pity. I hate to have to crush your dreams of advancing in the palm of my hand, but my will shall be done.
So what say you, Mister Sands, of my abilities that you have somehow found out about? Do I "measure up" to your impressively high standard? I know that being a jobber {as you so eloquently put it} must mean that your standards are through the roof, no?
If I can give you one piece of advice, it would be this: don't believe the hype until you've safely lived through it. That goes for the rest of the remaining men who are still alive in the tournament.
As much as I enjoyed being Number 2 in the FWI Rankings, there's one thing you said that quite bothered me, Mister Sands: that "Internet Smarks" devised that system. I believe that's what you implied?
Allow me a moment to just further your education slightly, Mister Sands. Those rankings were developed by former federations owners and presidents, so I'm terribly sorry to have to inform you that your premature assumption has only made an ass out of you. Now, I heard that the FWI Year End Voting is being decided on by the fans, and let me be quick to point out that I didn't make that list.
Sincere smile.
You can't always have your cake and eat it too.
So, Mister Sands...it was your pleasure, as always. But heed just one warning: it's easier to bow with two broken knees than it is if you're one-hundred percent healthy.
You will bow before me, Christian...even if I have to break you in half to see that you do.
I will always be better than just "good enough", Mister Sands...because I'm simply just better than you.
Troy hops down off the chair and walks out of the shot. The camera cuts to black.
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing on a mahogany chair, lady and master of all she surveys {mistress sounds derrogatory to her character, no?} Her right hand is horizontal against her forehead, and she appears to be looking out through the camera and into the eyes of whomever might be watching.
Her head faces front, and she smirks before dropping her hand down to her hip, where her left hand is conveniently placed.
MISTER Sands, how nice of you to join me. I was getting ever so lonesome sitting in round two waiting on my opponent to be decided, and it's nice to see that you were kind enough to not keep me waiting for long.
Well, isn't this a funny little happenstance. You, sir, beat Rob Sampson. I suppose congratulations are in order, hm?
I'll have to remember to practice my curtsey.
Sarcastic smile.
And how nice of you to steal Sampson's name from him. Oh, this really is a treat, but you're forgetting one minor detail.
You're going to have to share that name with someone else, because from where I'm standing {which is still above you, might I add}, you had a little bit of help in securing that win. Looks to me that you're going to have to give half your newfound royalties to Mr. Blackshire. Are you prepared to share the wealth, Mister Sands?
While you're out there winning one for the gipper, those of us who were something of importance before showing up for the tournament are out there proving themselves.
One such person is me.
And yes, I know that I faced Cameron Cruise in the first round, so I didn't have to put out as much of an effort as I will in this round and the subsequent rounds that will follow.
Pause.
Oh dear me...I hope you didn't actually think that you were going to beat me in this round. My, such a pity. I hate to have to crush your dreams of advancing in the palm of my hand, but my will shall be done.
So what say you, Mister Sands, of my abilities that you have somehow found out about? Do I "measure up" to your impressively high standard? I know that being a jobber {as you so eloquently put it} must mean that your standards are through the roof, no?
If I can give you one piece of advice, it would be this: don't believe the hype until you've safely lived through it. That goes for the rest of the remaining men who are still alive in the tournament.
As much as I enjoyed being Number 2 in the FWI Rankings, there's one thing you said that quite bothered me, Mister Sands: that "Internet Smarks" devised that system. I believe that's what you implied?
Allow me a moment to just further your education slightly, Mister Sands. Those rankings were developed by former federations owners and presidents, so I'm terribly sorry to have to inform you that your premature assumption has only made an ass out of you. Now, I heard that the FWI Year End Voting is being decided on by the fans, and let me be quick to point out that I didn't make that list.
Sincere smile.
You can't always have your cake and eat it too.
So, Mister Sands...it was your pleasure, as always. But heed just one warning: it's easier to bow with two broken knees than it is if you're one-hundred percent healthy.
You will bow before me, Christian...even if I have to break you in half to see that you do.
I will always be better than just "good enough", Mister Sands...because I'm simply just better than you.
Troy hops down off the chair and walks out of the shot. The camera cuts to black.
JABolich
League Member
(FADEIN: Eh, a park bench somewhere. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits on the bench, his hands folded in his lap.)
Sands: My my, how enlightening, Ms. Troy. How interesting that FWI's run by a bunch of federation heads. I'm SO sorry if I don't bother to take an interest in the inner workings of a third-rate magazine. But answer me this question. Would the owners of A1E just HAPPEN to be central to FWI's system? It would certainly explain why their entire publication is essentially one big textual blowjob of that bush-league.
Which, of course, explains how you managed to make number two. Take that as you will.
In any case, it's nice to see that at least part of your reputation is true.
You certainly do have a mouth on you, don't you? Not to mention an ego.
But really now, dear. All this talk about "Oh, I'm going to break your knees" and "oh, I'm going to break you in half"... Come on. I was expecting more from you than basic curtain-jerker innuendo. If you're trying to intimidate me with that sort of talk, you're failing quite miserably. Me... I don't see any need to bluster about crushing your bones to make my bread.
I'll just settle for beating you.
As for the Sampson match, if you had half a brain you'd have noticed that I already addressed that - and already made note of the fact that the outcome was never in doubt. As it is, I can't control Max Blackshire. The man is psychotic. If Sampson wants a rematch, fine - I'll kick his ass WITHOUT psychos running in on my matches. But that's a long ways off. For now, I'll settle for taking you down and leaving you a wreck, little missy.
It's true that you are indeed somebody and have been for some time. Good; I'm glad. Just gives me more incentive to beat you. Who'll be somebody then, hm?
But really now.
If you think you're going to crush MY dreams of winning this tournament, you've got another thing coming. Maybe you are good, but as I said, I take all hype with a grain of salt. Either way, I'm not only better than you - I've also got the home field advantage, considering that GXW is essentially my home promotion. You, on the other hand, are a stranger to these parts. And if you think you can just waltz in here and get yourself a title shot because you beat Cameron Cruise and because you're hot sh*t in some bush-league somewhere... a gimmicky bush-league main-evented by people like a man who dresses up like a Roman legionnaire and a guy named after one of the X-Men... you've got another thing coming.
Like it or not, that title shot's going to stay quite firmly in the home court.
Now run along and play with your little bush-league friends, princess. Maybe if you're lucky the FWI management will show up and you can blow them juuuuust a little more - just to make sure you're in NEXT year's FWI 250.
In the meantime, I'll be right here, waiting to hand you a beating and take my shot at glory in a federation that MEANS SOMETHING.
Ta-ta, Lindz.
Beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
Sands: My my, how enlightening, Ms. Troy. How interesting that FWI's run by a bunch of federation heads. I'm SO sorry if I don't bother to take an interest in the inner workings of a third-rate magazine. But answer me this question. Would the owners of A1E just HAPPEN to be central to FWI's system? It would certainly explain why their entire publication is essentially one big textual blowjob of that bush-league.
Which, of course, explains how you managed to make number two. Take that as you will.
In any case, it's nice to see that at least part of your reputation is true.
You certainly do have a mouth on you, don't you? Not to mention an ego.
But really now, dear. All this talk about "Oh, I'm going to break your knees" and "oh, I'm going to break you in half"... Come on. I was expecting more from you than basic curtain-jerker innuendo. If you're trying to intimidate me with that sort of talk, you're failing quite miserably. Me... I don't see any need to bluster about crushing your bones to make my bread.
I'll just settle for beating you.
As for the Sampson match, if you had half a brain you'd have noticed that I already addressed that - and already made note of the fact that the outcome was never in doubt. As it is, I can't control Max Blackshire. The man is psychotic. If Sampson wants a rematch, fine - I'll kick his ass WITHOUT psychos running in on my matches. But that's a long ways off. For now, I'll settle for taking you down and leaving you a wreck, little missy.
It's true that you are indeed somebody and have been for some time. Good; I'm glad. Just gives me more incentive to beat you. Who'll be somebody then, hm?
But really now.
If you think you're going to crush MY dreams of winning this tournament, you've got another thing coming. Maybe you are good, but as I said, I take all hype with a grain of salt. Either way, I'm not only better than you - I've also got the home field advantage, considering that GXW is essentially my home promotion. You, on the other hand, are a stranger to these parts. And if you think you can just waltz in here and get yourself a title shot because you beat Cameron Cruise and because you're hot sh*t in some bush-league somewhere... a gimmicky bush-league main-evented by people like a man who dresses up like a Roman legionnaire and a guy named after one of the X-Men... you've got another thing coming.
Like it or not, that title shot's going to stay quite firmly in the home court.
Now run along and play with your little bush-league friends, princess. Maybe if you're lucky the FWI management will show up and you can blow them juuuuust a little more - just to make sure you're in NEXT year's FWI 250.
In the meantime, I'll be right here, waiting to hand you a beating and take my shot at glory in a federation that MEANS SOMETHING.
Ta-ta, Lindz.
Beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
Once I met a boy that wasn't stupid...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, no fuss no muss, leaning against a wall with her arms folded over her chest.
Actually, the last I heard, Brian Jenkins has nothing to do with A1E. In fact, I believe he took the Editor in Chief position of FWI after he retired from running USCW. If he's back running feds, it's certainly off the scope of my radar. I hear him and Promo are pretty buddy-buddy, so maybe you should ask MBE: UXW's "Prodigal Son" if he knows what Jenkins is up to.
I took the liberty of looking up FWI's Year-End Votes, and not to my surprise, there was a lot of non-A1E participants getting nods for various awards: Dan Ryan and Boogie Smallz, to name two from GXW. So, I guess A1E isn't getting as big a blowjob as you like to think we are.
Bush-league? Tsk tsk, Mister Sands your words could be considered poision if I didn't have the antitode. If we're so incredibly "bush-league", I ask you this: why would three of our best be invited to participate in your PPV? Why would our World Champion Cross, who has been in this business for almost seven years get an invitation? Why would the number one contenders for the tag-team titles: Beast, who is a former tag and singles champ, and Myself, having the second longest Triple Star Title reign since the inception of the belt AND having won many other titles along the way, be extended the opportunity to come here? Obviously, your owners and top-talent here have taken notice of our accomplishments and wanted us here? If A1E is "bush-league", then would that make GXW is "bush-league" by association?
I guess you would know best about basic curtain-jerking innuendo, right? After all, you said yourself that you were a jobber. So spare me your sacrosanct bullsh*t, Christian. You haven't been able to run with the big boys and girls, so what the hell makes you think that you're going to start now? Don't think for one second that your win over Rob Sampson {which, I might add, isn't entirely yours to begin with} automatically allows you to leap ahead of the other competition in this tournament. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to actually break a sweat in this match against you, so I'm not so haughty as to say that I'm going to walk all over you like I did Cameron.
I know some of Cameron's past. The only things I know about you are what you've told me: you're a jobber and you're looking to get ahead.
Well, EYE am not going to be your stepping stone, Mister Sands. EYE don't think highly of tiny, insignificant insects who jump up and down thinking they're hot sh*t in a paper bag.
After I'm done with this tournament and after I'm done giving Vladimir Vlachinko his long awaiting beating, I will return to A1E and "deal" with a "gimmicky" Gladiator, who is a former tag champion and world champion and a "gimmicky" Beast, who is a former tag champion and Cyber Champion, and those accomplishments are a hell of a lot more than you could ever say for yourself.
No, I don't think I can just "waltz in here" and "get myself a title shot because I beat Cameron Cruise." In order for that to have happened, Cameron would have been a challenge in which I would have had to work for the win. I'm well aware that to get to the title match against John Miller, I'm going to have to go through some people who posses something that Cameron Cruise doesn't have: talent. So maybe before you go shooting your mouth off, again, that I'm going to run rampid through the talent pool, you should consider yourself fortunate that before you opened your big mouth, I thought you possessed what Cameron lacked. But, with every utterance from your mouth, I'm finding it increasingly easy to believe otherwise.
I will conceed one thing to you: most people win with "home field advantage." Brett Farve at Lambeau, mid-90s Bulls, to name two. But, you don't have to look any farther than the Yankees and the Marlins from the World Series this year, or the US Baseball team not qualifying for the Olympics in Salt Lake City, or the Knicks vs. the Bulls in NY where Charles Smith couldn't make a layup for proof that "home field" doesn't always work to one's advantage.
I'm well aware that this is unchartered territory for me. I'm well aware that I'm stepping on "your turf". And I'm also well aware that I don't give a sh*t about "home field advantage" or "home grown talent", because son, you and I may come from different leagues, but the talent we take into this match speaks for itself. That's what counts, not who's from this fed and who's from that fed.
This match we're fighting is taking place across an ocean from our respective countries, and Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore. So you'd better wake up and smell the pyro, Christian. The sooner you do that, the better position you're going to be in once your shoulders hit the mat for the 1, 2, 3.
The only "blowing" that will involve me is the winds of success blowing me into Round 3, at your expense. No cocks involved, which is probably much to your chagrin.
I'll beware the camel-jockeys and hooded rats, Mister Sands. You just be prepared to Hail the Queen, when the time comes.
And that time...is very, very soon.
Fade...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, no fuss no muss, leaning against a wall with her arms folded over her chest.
Actually, the last I heard, Brian Jenkins has nothing to do with A1E. In fact, I believe he took the Editor in Chief position of FWI after he retired from running USCW. If he's back running feds, it's certainly off the scope of my radar. I hear him and Promo are pretty buddy-buddy, so maybe you should ask MBE: UXW's "Prodigal Son" if he knows what Jenkins is up to.
I took the liberty of looking up FWI's Year-End Votes, and not to my surprise, there was a lot of non-A1E participants getting nods for various awards: Dan Ryan and Boogie Smallz, to name two from GXW. So, I guess A1E isn't getting as big a blowjob as you like to think we are.
Bush-league? Tsk tsk, Mister Sands your words could be considered poision if I didn't have the antitode. If we're so incredibly "bush-league", I ask you this: why would three of our best be invited to participate in your PPV? Why would our World Champion Cross, who has been in this business for almost seven years get an invitation? Why would the number one contenders for the tag-team titles: Beast, who is a former tag and singles champ, and Myself, having the second longest Triple Star Title reign since the inception of the belt AND having won many other titles along the way, be extended the opportunity to come here? Obviously, your owners and top-talent here have taken notice of our accomplishments and wanted us here? If A1E is "bush-league", then would that make GXW is "bush-league" by association?
I guess you would know best about basic curtain-jerking innuendo, right? After all, you said yourself that you were a jobber. So spare me your sacrosanct bullsh*t, Christian. You haven't been able to run with the big boys and girls, so what the hell makes you think that you're going to start now? Don't think for one second that your win over Rob Sampson {which, I might add, isn't entirely yours to begin with} automatically allows you to leap ahead of the other competition in this tournament. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to actually break a sweat in this match against you, so I'm not so haughty as to say that I'm going to walk all over you like I did Cameron.
I know some of Cameron's past. The only things I know about you are what you've told me: you're a jobber and you're looking to get ahead.
Well, EYE am not going to be your stepping stone, Mister Sands. EYE don't think highly of tiny, insignificant insects who jump up and down thinking they're hot sh*t in a paper bag.
After I'm done with this tournament and after I'm done giving Vladimir Vlachinko his long awaiting beating, I will return to A1E and "deal" with a "gimmicky" Gladiator, who is a former tag champion and world champion and a "gimmicky" Beast, who is a former tag champion and Cyber Champion, and those accomplishments are a hell of a lot more than you could ever say for yourself.
No, I don't think I can just "waltz in here" and "get myself a title shot because I beat Cameron Cruise." In order for that to have happened, Cameron would have been a challenge in which I would have had to work for the win. I'm well aware that to get to the title match against John Miller, I'm going to have to go through some people who posses something that Cameron Cruise doesn't have: talent. So maybe before you go shooting your mouth off, again, that I'm going to run rampid through the talent pool, you should consider yourself fortunate that before you opened your big mouth, I thought you possessed what Cameron lacked. But, with every utterance from your mouth, I'm finding it increasingly easy to believe otherwise.
I will conceed one thing to you: most people win with "home field advantage." Brett Farve at Lambeau, mid-90s Bulls, to name two. But, you don't have to look any farther than the Yankees and the Marlins from the World Series this year, or the US Baseball team not qualifying for the Olympics in Salt Lake City, or the Knicks vs. the Bulls in NY where Charles Smith couldn't make a layup for proof that "home field" doesn't always work to one's advantage.
I'm well aware that this is unchartered territory for me. I'm well aware that I'm stepping on "your turf". And I'm also well aware that I don't give a sh*t about "home field advantage" or "home grown talent", because son, you and I may come from different leagues, but the talent we take into this match speaks for itself. That's what counts, not who's from this fed and who's from that fed.
This match we're fighting is taking place across an ocean from our respective countries, and Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore. So you'd better wake up and smell the pyro, Christian. The sooner you do that, the better position you're going to be in once your shoulders hit the mat for the 1, 2, 3.
The only "blowing" that will involve me is the winds of success blowing me into Round 3, at your expense. No cocks involved, which is probably much to your chagrin.
I'll beware the camel-jockeys and hooded rats, Mister Sands. You just be prepared to Hail the Queen, when the time comes.
And that time...is very, very soon.
Fade...
Hell_Fighter
League Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 597
- Points
- 0
- Age
- 48
- Location
- Springfield, Missouri
- Website
- www.myspace.com
"Answered Prayers"
*{Fade In}
*{The scene opens inside a locker room. The door opens and "HellFighter" Michael Shutt walks in and sits down on a nearby bench. He is sweating after this intense match and surprise victory over Clapper, the God of X-Treme in the first round of the World Title Tournament to decide the number one contender against Champion, John Miller. HellFighter breathing hard as sweat drips off his body and face. He takes off his knee brace that has been supporting his knee following his surgery that he recently had not to long ago and gently massages his knee while he watches what unfolds on the television moniter right in front of him. He thinks to himself outloud as if he were having a little prayer. Let's listen in.}
HellFighter: "Not the most graceful win, but a win nonetheless. I would of rather won without the help, but I'm still in this tournament, I can still make it up and prove that I am STILL or can be STILL a World Champion. I guess I should be thankful for small mircles. I guess I should be thankful for Clapper's little war with David Black."
{HellFighter rubs his knee trying to stimulate any feeling in it and keep any swelling from starting to develope to keep his knee.}
"Oh man my knee, the doctors said that this first month of competition would be the hardest and they were right, but I'll be okay. God give me strength even in the darkest of hours."
"I'm still in this tournament and I still have another chance to show that I can still be a world champion. Mark my words. If I win tournament and even the world title, I'm NOT screwing it up like I did in the EWI. I'm doing it right, and I'm not letting my emotions get the best of me like last time. I will be and fight like a true champion. I will even lose like a true champion, but I'm still NOT looking to lose this tournament or the World title. I am aware that losing could happen, but it's the farthest from my mind right now. When I fight, I fight to win. I'm gonna win by the book and with nobody in my corner other than My God and Savior...and nobody else."
{He looks over and acknowledges the camera starring back at him for the first time.}
"Okay time to stop, this ain't no Sunday Morning Church Service. I am not preachin here, and nobody wants to hear me preach...hell not even I wanna hear myself talk. I just wanna do my thing and move on. That's all, nothing more and nothing less. Well on that note let's talk about...
{HellFighter is interupted as he looks over at the television moniter and watches intently as it appears like something has caught his eye and he watches with the utmost interest as the camera zooms in and shows on the moniter the closing moments of the Dan Ryan verses Stephen Waltz.}
(Waltz, with the crowd behind him, quickly goes for his trademark finisher, the Inverted Powerbomb. But Ryan quickly kicks out of it, and delivers a boot to the gut. He nearly pulls off the Humility Bomb, but is instead thrown over with a back body drop. Waltz follows with an irish whip, and Ryan connects. But when Waltz runs in for a blitzed attack, Ryan suddenly grabs the ref by the shirt and pulls him in the way as he jumps out of the corner. The ref is PASTED in between the corner and Waltz, and immediately goes to the mat!)
JG: You know things don't go well after a ref bump...)
(Waltz, in shock and confusion, is suddenly spun around by Dan Ryan and hit in the face with a foreign object.)
JG: Foreign object to the face, by Dan Ryan! What a low-down dirty rat...
GM: What the hell did he hit him with anyway?
JG: It looked to me like a crushed can.
GM: Ouch...
(Rather than making a pin with the ref down, Dan Ryan instead puts the can into Stephen's hand, and falls flat on his back, playing that he has been hit. Waltz comes back to his feet, shaking his head and looking peculiarly at the object in his hand. The ref comes to his feet in time to see this, and notices Ryan. He rings the bell, and disqualifies Stephen Waltz on account of using a foreign object.)
JG: Dan Ryan wins by DQ! A bummer for Stephen Waltz, who suffers his first defeat in a singles match. Then again, he can still say he's never been successfully pinned.
GM: You just can't bring down ol' SW, but in a similar way, you can't outsmart "The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan. Too bad Terry wasn't here for the match... he could have at least helped the kid out.
JG: Waltz just experienced what almost half of all wrestlers experience when fighting on their own... and I'm sure he accepts the loss without regrets.
GM: Whatever.
{Back in the locker room, HellFighter looks on with a little bit of surprise on this face as he shakes his head and smiles trying keep in a little giggle of laughter from creeping out. HellFighter walks over to turn off the moniter and then turns back around to address the camera.}
HellFighter: {A kind of a jokingly, sarcastic, mock Mel Blanc voice}
"Oooooooooooooo Aren't we SNEAKY!"
{Normal Voice}
"I'm sorry I couldn't resist, it's just kind of funny to me, I mean Dan Ryan...
{Talks like John Torturro from the movie Mr. Deeds}
"...Is very very sneaky."
{Normal voice}
"I'm sorry I did it again man. Of course I really don't have any room to talk. I mean I practically win via what some people would call L-U-C-K, while other people would call it a
M-I-R-I-C-L-E, and probably they are right because who would of thought that I would defeat the so-caled god of x-treme and current GXW X-treme champion, Clapper and move on in the tournament."
"I mean yeah Dan Ryan may of cheated, but hey I call it being being an opportunist right? He was being smart, and I guess he will do anything to become world champion again. The only difference is that if he can get away with it he will cheat to win. I am just trying to win by playing by the rules, and regardless of my obstacles in my path."
{HellFighter looks down and rubs his knee, where the camera zoons in briefly to show the scar on his knee from where he recently had surgery on it.}
"My surgery was kind of a quick fix, but I told them to hurry up and do the surgery so I could return to the ring as quickly as possible. Maybe that was a mistake, but I have this feeling deep down inside that says that 'God will never leave me nor forsake me' and I will get through this no matter what. I need to lean on that and know that this is not some feeling or emotion it is exactly a word from my Lord and that he will be my strength even when I can't stand."
Cameraman (operating from behind the camera): "Ah HellFighter, I just heard something over my headset that I'd thought you might wanna know. You might wanna be ready because that match you just saw, there's your oponant in the next round of the tournament."
{HellFighter pauses as he listens to every single word that the cameraman says and his mouth drops when he hears the news of his next oponant.}
HellFighter: "You're serious? You're not joking with me?"
Cameraman: "Nope, I just heard it, and I was told to tell you right away so you could be ready."
{HellFighter pauses as he looks up at the ceiling with a huge smile on his face.}
HellFighter: "Thank you. Thank you Jesus. THANK YOU JESUS!"
{He stops himself as he looks at the camera and regains his composure as he looks back at the camera again.}
"Sorry almost lost my head again and let my emotions get the best of me. Whoa that was close. Okay I'm fine now, but still after a whole year of asking and praying when I could prove myself again and wrestle Dan Ryan again, I finally get what I asked for. Patience does go to those that wait, and God answers prayer. He didn't do it on my time, he did on his time. I'm truly thankful for that. Now that's a Christmas Present. Not only do I move on the next round but now I finally get to show that I can fight and God willing defeat Dan Ryan in the next round of the tournament and get one step closer to becoming GXW Unified World Heavyweight Champion."
{HellFighter pauses to regain his composure as he recollects all of his thoughts and gets them together before he continues on.}
HellFighter: "Dan Ryan, the last few times you faught me, you earned those victories. Of course when I did I wasn't really with God like I said I was. I guess I was fooling myself, and then I made the mistake of thinking that I didn't need him at all as I forsook faith all together, but the best thing that came out of that was showing me how much I needed Him even more. I guess that it's safe to say that my faith isn't just a gimmick, it's the essense of who I am. I mean to strip it away is like is like denying myself of Life essential materials...food and water. My faith is encoded and embedded into my life. I can't forsake it. I have to accept it now. It is who I am. I realize it now."
"Just like your name Ryan, you are ego buster, and it's not gimmick, you are exactly what says you are. It is the essence of who you are. Just like my name. I am HellFighter not by gimmick but simply because it is the representation of who I am as person, where I've been and where I'm going. It's more than just a choice for me now. I see this, and I applied it to my life."
"Ryan is the ego buster because reveals to them that their ego will be their downfall. I am HellFighter because I am always ready, willing, and able to go to hell and back to win. I may bleed and I may feel pain, but I will do everything I can to win the match, even if I have to take some risks, it is essensial in order to pull out a win. I guess that's a reason why I am one of the most well-rounded, versitile wrestlers in the GXW. I can attack with powermoves, use ground moves, use submission moves, or even take to the air and attack like a high flying big man. But again I am not bragging, just making you aware of everything that I can and will do in the match to become world champion...even at the cost of possibily my own career."
{HellFighter looks down at his knee again and rubs it.}
"Dan, when you and I faught, you beat the ego out of me. That's a good thing I feel because now I know that I have no ego for you you bust. I walk into the next round of this tournament match against you MEEK and HUMBLE, and I'm sure that you know what meek and humble inherit. You may not be a believer in the Bible Dan, but I know that you've read and you understand it enough to know what meek and humble means."
"Basically you have no power over me Dan, and this time you don't stand a chance because this I'm ready to fight you...and most off all, I ready to win. I know that it's not JUST by my might or by my own power, but by my spirit says the Lord."
"Now don't confuse my words for EGO or arrogance. I'm not, but I believe and I faith that I will defeat you, and if for some odd reason that you do beat me. That's okay God still loves me. I'm not gonna kill myself if I lose. I will move on either way."
"But most of all Dan, I have faith in God and I believe in Him to help me win this tournament and the GXW Unified World Heavyweight title, but also I believe and have faith in myself. I believe that it was Kin Hiroshi that said to me that last year, to have faith in something is one thing, but you have to believe in yourself. I truly think that Kin was right when he said that, because I feel that having Faith in God and believing in yourself go hand and hand. That is something in that I never did before. I either did one or the other. I either believed in God to get me through, or relied on only myself. I never once did both. I have to believe in myself as well as my God."
"Now, after all these years of wrestling...I can honestly say that I do that. It's taken me for almost over 25 years to develope this, but I finally got it. Again if I do happen to lose to you again Dan, that's okay because I'll be ready either way. But I'm not looking to lose, I'm fighting to win."
"Mark my words Dan Ryan. Even if you do beat me...keep in mind that I said 'IF'...I will make sure that you remember and you NEVER forget the name or match of HellFighter. Even if I am wrestling with a still kind of a hurt leg, I will proceed to give the greatest single fight of your life. Know this that you need to take your best and then BEYOND it in order to beat me because I will be at my best and BEYOND to beat you. Win or lose, neither one of us will forget this life and it will live in us for the rest of our lives. I like think that this will make or break the both of us. We will bleed and we more pain than anybody can imagine, and we may substain some possible career threatening injuries, but we will give the best fight of our lives regardless. You have my VOW on that."
"Okay I've said enough. That's all I've gotta say, and you can qoute me on that...ALL OF IT!"
*{Fade Out}
*{Fade In}
*{The scene opens inside a locker room. The door opens and "HellFighter" Michael Shutt walks in and sits down on a nearby bench. He is sweating after this intense match and surprise victory over Clapper, the God of X-Treme in the first round of the World Title Tournament to decide the number one contender against Champion, John Miller. HellFighter breathing hard as sweat drips off his body and face. He takes off his knee brace that has been supporting his knee following his surgery that he recently had not to long ago and gently massages his knee while he watches what unfolds on the television moniter right in front of him. He thinks to himself outloud as if he were having a little prayer. Let's listen in.}
HellFighter: "Not the most graceful win, but a win nonetheless. I would of rather won without the help, but I'm still in this tournament, I can still make it up and prove that I am STILL or can be STILL a World Champion. I guess I should be thankful for small mircles. I guess I should be thankful for Clapper's little war with David Black."
{HellFighter rubs his knee trying to stimulate any feeling in it and keep any swelling from starting to develope to keep his knee.}
"Oh man my knee, the doctors said that this first month of competition would be the hardest and they were right, but I'll be okay. God give me strength even in the darkest of hours."
"I'm still in this tournament and I still have another chance to show that I can still be a world champion. Mark my words. If I win tournament and even the world title, I'm NOT screwing it up like I did in the EWI. I'm doing it right, and I'm not letting my emotions get the best of me like last time. I will be and fight like a true champion. I will even lose like a true champion, but I'm still NOT looking to lose this tournament or the World title. I am aware that losing could happen, but it's the farthest from my mind right now. When I fight, I fight to win. I'm gonna win by the book and with nobody in my corner other than My God and Savior...and nobody else."
{He looks over and acknowledges the camera starring back at him for the first time.}
"Okay time to stop, this ain't no Sunday Morning Church Service. I am not preachin here, and nobody wants to hear me preach...hell not even I wanna hear myself talk. I just wanna do my thing and move on. That's all, nothing more and nothing less. Well on that note let's talk about...
{HellFighter is interupted as he looks over at the television moniter and watches intently as it appears like something has caught his eye and he watches with the utmost interest as the camera zooms in and shows on the moniter the closing moments of the Dan Ryan verses Stephen Waltz.}
(Waltz, with the crowd behind him, quickly goes for his trademark finisher, the Inverted Powerbomb. But Ryan quickly kicks out of it, and delivers a boot to the gut. He nearly pulls off the Humility Bomb, but is instead thrown over with a back body drop. Waltz follows with an irish whip, and Ryan connects. But when Waltz runs in for a blitzed attack, Ryan suddenly grabs the ref by the shirt and pulls him in the way as he jumps out of the corner. The ref is PASTED in between the corner and Waltz, and immediately goes to the mat!)
JG: You know things don't go well after a ref bump...)
(Waltz, in shock and confusion, is suddenly spun around by Dan Ryan and hit in the face with a foreign object.)
JG: Foreign object to the face, by Dan Ryan! What a low-down dirty rat...
GM: What the hell did he hit him with anyway?
JG: It looked to me like a crushed can.
GM: Ouch...
(Rather than making a pin with the ref down, Dan Ryan instead puts the can into Stephen's hand, and falls flat on his back, playing that he has been hit. Waltz comes back to his feet, shaking his head and looking peculiarly at the object in his hand. The ref comes to his feet in time to see this, and notices Ryan. He rings the bell, and disqualifies Stephen Waltz on account of using a foreign object.)
JG: Dan Ryan wins by DQ! A bummer for Stephen Waltz, who suffers his first defeat in a singles match. Then again, he can still say he's never been successfully pinned.
GM: You just can't bring down ol' SW, but in a similar way, you can't outsmart "The Ego Buster" Dan Ryan. Too bad Terry wasn't here for the match... he could have at least helped the kid out.
JG: Waltz just experienced what almost half of all wrestlers experience when fighting on their own... and I'm sure he accepts the loss without regrets.
GM: Whatever.
{Back in the locker room, HellFighter looks on with a little bit of surprise on this face as he shakes his head and smiles trying keep in a little giggle of laughter from creeping out. HellFighter walks over to turn off the moniter and then turns back around to address the camera.}
HellFighter: {A kind of a jokingly, sarcastic, mock Mel Blanc voice}
"Oooooooooooooo Aren't we SNEAKY!"
{Normal Voice}
"I'm sorry I couldn't resist, it's just kind of funny to me, I mean Dan Ryan...
{Talks like John Torturro from the movie Mr. Deeds}
"...Is very very sneaky."
{Normal voice}
"I'm sorry I did it again man. Of course I really don't have any room to talk. I mean I practically win via what some people would call L-U-C-K, while other people would call it a
M-I-R-I-C-L-E, and probably they are right because who would of thought that I would defeat the so-caled god of x-treme and current GXW X-treme champion, Clapper and move on in the tournament."
"I mean yeah Dan Ryan may of cheated, but hey I call it being being an opportunist right? He was being smart, and I guess he will do anything to become world champion again. The only difference is that if he can get away with it he will cheat to win. I am just trying to win by playing by the rules, and regardless of my obstacles in my path."
{HellFighter looks down and rubs his knee, where the camera zoons in briefly to show the scar on his knee from where he recently had surgery on it.}
"My surgery was kind of a quick fix, but I told them to hurry up and do the surgery so I could return to the ring as quickly as possible. Maybe that was a mistake, but I have this feeling deep down inside that says that 'God will never leave me nor forsake me' and I will get through this no matter what. I need to lean on that and know that this is not some feeling or emotion it is exactly a word from my Lord and that he will be my strength even when I can't stand."
Cameraman (operating from behind the camera): "Ah HellFighter, I just heard something over my headset that I'd thought you might wanna know. You might wanna be ready because that match you just saw, there's your oponant in the next round of the tournament."
{HellFighter pauses as he listens to every single word that the cameraman says and his mouth drops when he hears the news of his next oponant.}
HellFighter: "You're serious? You're not joking with me?"
Cameraman: "Nope, I just heard it, and I was told to tell you right away so you could be ready."
{HellFighter pauses as he looks up at the ceiling with a huge smile on his face.}
HellFighter: "Thank you. Thank you Jesus. THANK YOU JESUS!"
{He stops himself as he looks at the camera and regains his composure as he looks back at the camera again.}
"Sorry almost lost my head again and let my emotions get the best of me. Whoa that was close. Okay I'm fine now, but still after a whole year of asking and praying when I could prove myself again and wrestle Dan Ryan again, I finally get what I asked for. Patience does go to those that wait, and God answers prayer. He didn't do it on my time, he did on his time. I'm truly thankful for that. Now that's a Christmas Present. Not only do I move on the next round but now I finally get to show that I can fight and God willing defeat Dan Ryan in the next round of the tournament and get one step closer to becoming GXW Unified World Heavyweight Champion."
{HellFighter pauses to regain his composure as he recollects all of his thoughts and gets them together before he continues on.}
HellFighter: "Dan Ryan, the last few times you faught me, you earned those victories. Of course when I did I wasn't really with God like I said I was. I guess I was fooling myself, and then I made the mistake of thinking that I didn't need him at all as I forsook faith all together, but the best thing that came out of that was showing me how much I needed Him even more. I guess that it's safe to say that my faith isn't just a gimmick, it's the essense of who I am. I mean to strip it away is like is like denying myself of Life essential materials...food and water. My faith is encoded and embedded into my life. I can't forsake it. I have to accept it now. It is who I am. I realize it now."
"Just like your name Ryan, you are ego buster, and it's not gimmick, you are exactly what says you are. It is the essence of who you are. Just like my name. I am HellFighter not by gimmick but simply because it is the representation of who I am as person, where I've been and where I'm going. It's more than just a choice for me now. I see this, and I applied it to my life."
"Ryan is the ego buster because reveals to them that their ego will be their downfall. I am HellFighter because I am always ready, willing, and able to go to hell and back to win. I may bleed and I may feel pain, but I will do everything I can to win the match, even if I have to take some risks, it is essensial in order to pull out a win. I guess that's a reason why I am one of the most well-rounded, versitile wrestlers in the GXW. I can attack with powermoves, use ground moves, use submission moves, or even take to the air and attack like a high flying big man. But again I am not bragging, just making you aware of everything that I can and will do in the match to become world champion...even at the cost of possibily my own career."
{HellFighter looks down at his knee again and rubs it.}
"Dan, when you and I faught, you beat the ego out of me. That's a good thing I feel because now I know that I have no ego for you you bust. I walk into the next round of this tournament match against you MEEK and HUMBLE, and I'm sure that you know what meek and humble inherit. You may not be a believer in the Bible Dan, but I know that you've read and you understand it enough to know what meek and humble means."
"Basically you have no power over me Dan, and this time you don't stand a chance because this I'm ready to fight you...and most off all, I ready to win. I know that it's not JUST by my might or by my own power, but by my spirit says the Lord."
"Now don't confuse my words for EGO or arrogance. I'm not, but I believe and I faith that I will defeat you, and if for some odd reason that you do beat me. That's okay God still loves me. I'm not gonna kill myself if I lose. I will move on either way."
"But most of all Dan, I have faith in God and I believe in Him to help me win this tournament and the GXW Unified World Heavyweight title, but also I believe and have faith in myself. I believe that it was Kin Hiroshi that said to me that last year, to have faith in something is one thing, but you have to believe in yourself. I truly think that Kin was right when he said that, because I feel that having Faith in God and believing in yourself go hand and hand. That is something in that I never did before. I either did one or the other. I either believed in God to get me through, or relied on only myself. I never once did both. I have to believe in myself as well as my God."
"Now, after all these years of wrestling...I can honestly say that I do that. It's taken me for almost over 25 years to develope this, but I finally got it. Again if I do happen to lose to you again Dan, that's okay because I'll be ready either way. But I'm not looking to lose, I'm fighting to win."
"Mark my words Dan Ryan. Even if you do beat me...keep in mind that I said 'IF'...I will make sure that you remember and you NEVER forget the name or match of HellFighter. Even if I am wrestling with a still kind of a hurt leg, I will proceed to give the greatest single fight of your life. Know this that you need to take your best and then BEYOND it in order to beat me because I will be at my best and BEYOND to beat you. Win or lose, neither one of us will forget this life and it will live in us for the rest of our lives. I like think that this will make or break the both of us. We will bleed and we more pain than anybody can imagine, and we may substain some possible career threatening injuries, but we will give the best fight of our lives regardless. You have my VOW on that."
"Okay I've said enough. That's all I've gotta say, and you can qoute me on that...ALL OF IT!"
*{Fade Out}
Last edited:
JABolich
League Member
(FADEIN: A gym somewhere. CHRISTIAN SANDS sits on the end of a weight bench, a towel draped across his shoulders and a bottle of water in his right hand.)
Sands: Mm... you have an interesting sort of wit, Ms. Troy. You seem to have this odd tendency to take things I say and run entirely the other way with them.
Let's first tackle the assumption that I'm a jobber, shall we?
Believe it or not, I said that in the spirit of a little something called IRONY. You do know what irony is, don't you? Did you need a dictionary to help you out? I hear Webster's new edition is available now. See? I-RO-NY. Still don't get it? Thought so. Really now, dear. You should know better.
But that's petty, and you and I both know it. So I'll settle for telling it like it is - that is, I've got everything I need to send you packing back to the kitchen, little missy.
As for your defense of A1E... you again missed my point. Do I really care how many titles your tame Roman has won? No. Do I really care how an X-Man held this or that belt? No. The insinuation that you seem to have missed is that A1E must be a pretty pathetic place if gimmicky midcarders like these could climb to a main event position. Like I said: BUSH. LEAGUE. If clowns like these showed up in GXW, they wouldn't make it past the midcard.
Do you want to know WHY your little A1E friends were invited to perform at Battleground Britain?
Because we want to see what's behind the hype.
Thanks to the verbal fellatio routinely administered to your home promotion by FWI's editors, there's been something of a buzz surrounding A1E. Thus, GXW management invited several A1E talents to perform here to see what you've got. For the most part, the leagues on this circuit are quite close-knit - many of the same talents wrestle for multiple leagues here, so for the most part we know who's who and who's how good. Meanwhile, your A1E has sat in quiet isolation. Maybe you guys THINK you're good... but now we'll see how you stack up to the big leagues.
But the more immediate question remains, Lindz.
How do YOU stack up to ME?
Heh... Not very well.
Frankly, you haven't shown me anything that makes me buy into the hype surrounding you. Between your penchant for misinterpretation and your overwhelming ego, I'm really seeing nothing special - unless you define special as being a puffed-up blowhard full of enough hot air to make the Hindenburg jealous. Honestly, it's almost cute how you're trying to look tough and feisty but not accomplishing anything by it.
Am I intimidated by your act?
Noooooope.
Am I impressed by what you've shown me?
Nada.
Am I going to jerk you up short on national television and go on to win the tournament?
You bet your ass, sweet cheeks.
I don't buy into the hype about you, much less your own royal bullsh*t. I cut past the facades and deal in cold, hard fact. And there's one fact that's undeniable in this case, Troy - the fact that when you and I meet in the ring I'm going to wrestle more rings around you than you'd find in a hula-hoop store and drop you like a sack of bricks.
Why?
Because... quite simply... I can... and in my realization of that, it becomes fact.
Ta-ta for now, your Highness.
And remember to beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
Sands: Mm... you have an interesting sort of wit, Ms. Troy. You seem to have this odd tendency to take things I say and run entirely the other way with them.
Let's first tackle the assumption that I'm a jobber, shall we?
Believe it or not, I said that in the spirit of a little something called IRONY. You do know what irony is, don't you? Did you need a dictionary to help you out? I hear Webster's new edition is available now. See? I-RO-NY. Still don't get it? Thought so. Really now, dear. You should know better.
But that's petty, and you and I both know it. So I'll settle for telling it like it is - that is, I've got everything I need to send you packing back to the kitchen, little missy.
As for your defense of A1E... you again missed my point. Do I really care how many titles your tame Roman has won? No. Do I really care how an X-Man held this or that belt? No. The insinuation that you seem to have missed is that A1E must be a pretty pathetic place if gimmicky midcarders like these could climb to a main event position. Like I said: BUSH. LEAGUE. If clowns like these showed up in GXW, they wouldn't make it past the midcard.
Do you want to know WHY your little A1E friends were invited to perform at Battleground Britain?
Because we want to see what's behind the hype.
Thanks to the verbal fellatio routinely administered to your home promotion by FWI's editors, there's been something of a buzz surrounding A1E. Thus, GXW management invited several A1E talents to perform here to see what you've got. For the most part, the leagues on this circuit are quite close-knit - many of the same talents wrestle for multiple leagues here, so for the most part we know who's who and who's how good. Meanwhile, your A1E has sat in quiet isolation. Maybe you guys THINK you're good... but now we'll see how you stack up to the big leagues.
But the more immediate question remains, Lindz.
How do YOU stack up to ME?
Heh... Not very well.
Frankly, you haven't shown me anything that makes me buy into the hype surrounding you. Between your penchant for misinterpretation and your overwhelming ego, I'm really seeing nothing special - unless you define special as being a puffed-up blowhard full of enough hot air to make the Hindenburg jealous. Honestly, it's almost cute how you're trying to look tough and feisty but not accomplishing anything by it.
Am I intimidated by your act?
Noooooope.
Am I impressed by what you've shown me?
Nada.
Am I going to jerk you up short on national television and go on to win the tournament?
You bet your ass, sweet cheeks.
I don't buy into the hype about you, much less your own royal bullsh*t. I cut past the facades and deal in cold, hard fact. And there's one fact that's undeniable in this case, Troy - the fact that when you and I meet in the ring I'm going to wrestle more rings around you than you'd find in a hula-hoop store and drop you like a sack of bricks.
Why?
Because... quite simply... I can... and in my realization of that, it becomes fact.
Ta-ta for now, your Highness.
And remember to beware the Sandstorm.
(FADEOUT)
Mr Main Event
League Member
Posted for Billy Starr's handler.
---------------
(The GXW Camera follows Blazin' Billy Starr back to his dressing room after his first round match up. He enters the room and the camera watches the door swing shut. Billy paces the room back and forth, wiping his face off with a towel. The camera picks up a shadow of someone standing just off camera to the left of Starr. Starr turns and begins to speak to the unknown person.)
Billy Starr: You, I really should have known. It seems that every crossroad of my life over the past decade you have been there to make it a bigger ordeal. From the days when I was on top of the world, to my worst days. But you know what, I don't have the time or interest in hearing what you've got to say right now. I'm sure you have your own agenda and messing up my life is just a small part of it.
You know I really think I might be too old for this. When I first signed the contract to come back here, I didn't think much of it. A lot of wrestlers are older than I am, and a lot of guys have had longer careers. But after a few year break like I had, I really wonder if I'm making the right move.
(Starr continues to pace, stopping periodically to stare at the unknown person standing in the room.)
I don't know if I can handle the rigors of a full time schedule. After the back surgery I don't remember a time where I really did dedicate myself full time to wrestling. One match back and I'm already wondering if the next bump could break my back again. I never liked being crippled and I just don't know if I can stomach doing that again. You remember, don't you. The rehabilitation, the months of wondering if I could ever walk again, let alone live a normal life. You even pretended to care, and stuck around for a while till your next paycheck came along.
(We see the shadow move, stepping back half a step, as if physically attacked by Starr's words)
Physically is only the half of it though. Look at me, I'm still doing the same thing that was cool ten years ago. I've got to admit that it only hit home when I saw some punkass kid doing my gimmick. You know in the late 80's this long blond hair and the jet setting, lady loving, lip locking knee knocking life style was the thing. But I'm not a kid anymore and looking at Johnny Starr parade around like he was my illegitimate son hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut. What am I thinking. Is this me anymore? I'm not living this life anymore, I've grown up a little. All I'm doing is playing a gimmick now. A very old and played out gimmick and quite frankly I think I'm finished with it. I haven't been "Blazin" Billy Starr in many many moons. My name is William. William Starinsky. Successful businessman and former professional wrestler. Well former till I made that decision to enter this GXW tournament, and right now... I'm not quite sure that it shouldn't just stay former professional wrestler.
I guess I really don't get much time to decide, do I? It's not like I'm going to get another cake walk in this tournament. Talk about getting thrown into the fire. My next opponent will be Adam Benjamin. I've done the research, and I've seen just how good this guy is. You don't get to call yourself a world champion if you can't back it up in the ring. I may not be that familiar with the MCW, but I've seen enough tape of Benjamin to know that he truely is world championship material. Five years ago, hell five DAYS ago I would have been very brash and predicted a quick victory. I'd be showing off my riches, dismissing him as being overrated from an overrated promotion... but let's face facts... I'm not the man I used to be.
(Starr stops again, stares directly at the camera)
And after Benjamin, if I've still got enough "starr power" to get past him, I won't have any chance to take a breath. Some of the very best in the business are here. Dan Ryan, Boogie Smallz, Randy Cobb, the list just goes on and on...
(turns slightly away from the camera, and back towards the shadow)
So if you don't mind, I really think you should be leaving... you can't help me now... if you ever have helped anyone but yourself to begin with. Right now I need some time, time to come to terms with who I was, and who I am now and hopefully where I'm going.
(The camera view catches the door opening, but cannot focus on the person before they have exited the room. So the camera pans back to William Starinsky.)
You know, I think it would be best if you guys left too.
(Starinsky slides down the locker till he's got his knees up near his chest and drops his head forward, putting his arms up to his temples.)
(FTB)
---------------
(The GXW Camera follows Blazin' Billy Starr back to his dressing room after his first round match up. He enters the room and the camera watches the door swing shut. Billy paces the room back and forth, wiping his face off with a towel. The camera picks up a shadow of someone standing just off camera to the left of Starr. Starr turns and begins to speak to the unknown person.)
Billy Starr: You, I really should have known. It seems that every crossroad of my life over the past decade you have been there to make it a bigger ordeal. From the days when I was on top of the world, to my worst days. But you know what, I don't have the time or interest in hearing what you've got to say right now. I'm sure you have your own agenda and messing up my life is just a small part of it.
You know I really think I might be too old for this. When I first signed the contract to come back here, I didn't think much of it. A lot of wrestlers are older than I am, and a lot of guys have had longer careers. But after a few year break like I had, I really wonder if I'm making the right move.
(Starr continues to pace, stopping periodically to stare at the unknown person standing in the room.)
I don't know if I can handle the rigors of a full time schedule. After the back surgery I don't remember a time where I really did dedicate myself full time to wrestling. One match back and I'm already wondering if the next bump could break my back again. I never liked being crippled and I just don't know if I can stomach doing that again. You remember, don't you. The rehabilitation, the months of wondering if I could ever walk again, let alone live a normal life. You even pretended to care, and stuck around for a while till your next paycheck came along.
(We see the shadow move, stepping back half a step, as if physically attacked by Starr's words)
Physically is only the half of it though. Look at me, I'm still doing the same thing that was cool ten years ago. I've got to admit that it only hit home when I saw some punkass kid doing my gimmick. You know in the late 80's this long blond hair and the jet setting, lady loving, lip locking knee knocking life style was the thing. But I'm not a kid anymore and looking at Johnny Starr parade around like he was my illegitimate son hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut. What am I thinking. Is this me anymore? I'm not living this life anymore, I've grown up a little. All I'm doing is playing a gimmick now. A very old and played out gimmick and quite frankly I think I'm finished with it. I haven't been "Blazin" Billy Starr in many many moons. My name is William. William Starinsky. Successful businessman and former professional wrestler. Well former till I made that decision to enter this GXW tournament, and right now... I'm not quite sure that it shouldn't just stay former professional wrestler.
I guess I really don't get much time to decide, do I? It's not like I'm going to get another cake walk in this tournament. Talk about getting thrown into the fire. My next opponent will be Adam Benjamin. I've done the research, and I've seen just how good this guy is. You don't get to call yourself a world champion if you can't back it up in the ring. I may not be that familiar with the MCW, but I've seen enough tape of Benjamin to know that he truely is world championship material. Five years ago, hell five DAYS ago I would have been very brash and predicted a quick victory. I'd be showing off my riches, dismissing him as being overrated from an overrated promotion... but let's face facts... I'm not the man I used to be.
(Starr stops again, stares directly at the camera)
And after Benjamin, if I've still got enough "starr power" to get past him, I won't have any chance to take a breath. Some of the very best in the business are here. Dan Ryan, Boogie Smallz, Randy Cobb, the list just goes on and on...
(turns slightly away from the camera, and back towards the shadow)
So if you don't mind, I really think you should be leaving... you can't help me now... if you ever have helped anyone but yourself to begin with. Right now I need some time, time to come to terms with who I was, and who I am now and hopefully where I'm going.
(The camera view catches the door opening, but cannot focus on the person before they have exited the room. So the camera pans back to William Starinsky.)
You know, I think it would be best if you guys left too.
(Starinsky slides down the locker till he's got his knees up near his chest and drops his head forward, putting his arms up to his temples.)
(FTB)
DarkReign666
Banned
New kid on the block!
Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr walks the streets of London as he tours the bright city under the night sky. He’s dressed in full attire wearing his pink and white glittery robe and silky shiny mask that shall never reveal who he truly is. Mr. Incredible is written in gold glitter on the back and his pink and white-feathered boa is wrapped around his neck.
He slowly walks the cobble stone street as he is sightseeing London for the very first time of his life. As each part of the city he visits his eyes widen in excitement.
Starr: These people have it going on! It is such a romantic place to dwell in. As you can tell GXW fans this is Johnny Starr’s first time in London. Each building has it’s own personal architecture to it. Even the streets are clean, well that is compared to places like New York City. If you got a lady friend, this is the place to be! You never know you might get lucky brining her to a place like this.
I’m new to this city, as well as being in GXW! But you know something my past has nothing to do with the present. What I aim for is living for the moment! I’m a risk taker and a believer! As I enter this GXW Tournament for a #1 shot at the GXW World Heavyweight Title I realize I’m facing many great superstars on the roster of GXW.
However guys and gals there’s one thing I do believe deep inside my heart that Johnny Starr will be doing something INCREDIBLE in my life! That is winning this Tournament in the snap of a finger!
Yeah, you got some doosies out there… You got your dreamers, your wanna be’s. The has beens come back and actually think they can somehow do it again! Let’s face it, I mean does Lindsay Troy really think she’s got a shot here? There’s no chance in hell a woman is ever going to wear any strap, nor wear that prestigious GXW title on her waist! On my dead body! And I’m not dying anytime soon as you see the shape I’m in BABY!!
There’s only one guy here that’s going to be on top! There’s only room for #1, and that’s ME! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr!!! It’s called confidence cup cakes! Man! That girl can talk can’t she!? You’ve got to do more than talking sweetheart because your facing animals in that ring. Besides those dreamers, you got to face yours truly Johnny Starr! You haven’t faced the best yet until you met Mr. Incredible inside the ring heartbreaker!
Starr stands out from the rest… I’m younger, faster, much smarter, and way more athletic than any of those mediocre midcarders! Johnny Starr is the MAIN EVENT! The STAR ATTRACTION! Why wouldn’t GXW want me as championship material? It’s simple, because I am!
When it’s all over honey buns, you can go back to your other job. If it’s cleaning hotel rooms, standing on 42nd street in NYC, or kissing the feet of Johnny Starr because when I become the GXW World Heavyweight Champion you’ll all bow down to the #1 guy around here. Why?
Because I’m the star, I’m the star! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr!!!!
Fade Out…….
Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr walks the streets of London as he tours the bright city under the night sky. He’s dressed in full attire wearing his pink and white glittery robe and silky shiny mask that shall never reveal who he truly is. Mr. Incredible is written in gold glitter on the back and his pink and white-feathered boa is wrapped around his neck.
He slowly walks the cobble stone street as he is sightseeing London for the very first time of his life. As each part of the city he visits his eyes widen in excitement.
Starr: These people have it going on! It is such a romantic place to dwell in. As you can tell GXW fans this is Johnny Starr’s first time in London. Each building has it’s own personal architecture to it. Even the streets are clean, well that is compared to places like New York City. If you got a lady friend, this is the place to be! You never know you might get lucky brining her to a place like this.
I’m new to this city, as well as being in GXW! But you know something my past has nothing to do with the present. What I aim for is living for the moment! I’m a risk taker and a believer! As I enter this GXW Tournament for a #1 shot at the GXW World Heavyweight Title I realize I’m facing many great superstars on the roster of GXW.
However guys and gals there’s one thing I do believe deep inside my heart that Johnny Starr will be doing something INCREDIBLE in my life! That is winning this Tournament in the snap of a finger!
Yeah, you got some doosies out there… You got your dreamers, your wanna be’s. The has beens come back and actually think they can somehow do it again! Let’s face it, I mean does Lindsay Troy really think she’s got a shot here? There’s no chance in hell a woman is ever going to wear any strap, nor wear that prestigious GXW title on her waist! On my dead body! And I’m not dying anytime soon as you see the shape I’m in BABY!!
There’s only one guy here that’s going to be on top! There’s only room for #1, and that’s ME! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr!!! It’s called confidence cup cakes! Man! That girl can talk can’t she!? You’ve got to do more than talking sweetheart because your facing animals in that ring. Besides those dreamers, you got to face yours truly Johnny Starr! You haven’t faced the best yet until you met Mr. Incredible inside the ring heartbreaker!
Starr stands out from the rest… I’m younger, faster, much smarter, and way more athletic than any of those mediocre midcarders! Johnny Starr is the MAIN EVENT! The STAR ATTRACTION! Why wouldn’t GXW want me as championship material? It’s simple, because I am!
When it’s all over honey buns, you can go back to your other job. If it’s cleaning hotel rooms, standing on 42nd street in NYC, or kissing the feet of Johnny Starr because when I become the GXW World Heavyweight Champion you’ll all bow down to the #1 guy around here. Why?
Because I’m the star, I’m the star! Mr. Incredible Johnny Starr!!!!
Fade Out…….
Revelations
"The more things change, the more things stay the same."
--------
FADE IN
DAN RYAN lies on a hotel queen bed, hands behind his head...legs crossed at the ankles.
The television flickers for a moment but not for long....a click of the remote turns the screen to black and Ryan sits up and turns to the edge of the bed...staring dead into the camera.
Ryan: "Well I suppose that was harmless enough."
"It seems my destiny to make the grand tour of the 'up and coming' circuit upon my return to active GXW duty. First Adam Benjamin and then Stephen Waltz."
Ryan smiles
"Don't be discouraged, Stevie. What happened out there in the ring was nothing more than a lesson in ring psychology, my friend. You've done a good job of getting by on some very considerable talent. I've got some talent of my own. But more than anything else, I'll do absolutely whatever it takes to win. It really doesn't matter if the fans approve or disapprove of my behavior this week. If there's a way to win, I'll find it."
"But like I said...don't be discouraged, my friend. You're a hell of a talent....and you can bet I'll be keeping an eye on you."
Ryan sits upright and cracks his neck as he continues...
"Now...naturally I've been keeping tabs of the promos as they fly through the air....some entertaining, some not so. One in particular baffles me to all hell....."
"Um, Johnny Starr....."
"You....are aware that you lost your first round match...aren't you?"
"I mean, you're not under the impression that after being pinned by Billy Starr....you still get to stay in the tournament...are you?"
"Honestly, I'm still kinda scratching my head over you. So for the sake of my own sanity, I'm gonna go ahead and just move on before I hurt myself thinkin' about it."
"Hellfighter......Michael my man. How goes it?"
"It's almost like old times, isn't it?"
"It seems like only yesterday when I was kicking ass, taking names...and you were going through a complete character overhaul. I'd never seen a more drastic one hundred eighty degree turn of character in my entire life....a man throwing away all that he stood for in an attempt to get ahead."
"Didn't work out too well did it?"
"So you managed to humble yourself and come to some personal revelations I see. The physicality of this sport started catching up with you as well, forcing you to go under the knife."
"So many things have changed lately......"
"And yet some things are apparently a constant."
"One of those things....one constant that keeps the GXW universe in perfect harmony....is that 'Hellfighter' Michael Shutt is still making tactical errors."
"After all the time I've spent in this company....all the time you've been here at the same time....you still don't know a damn thing about me. It's always the same with you...nothing new....no new knowledge....no new anything."
"I'm not interested in busting egos anymore, Mikey. 'The Ego Buster' is a moniker long dead to me....a money making gimmick to line the pockets of Chad Dupree five years ago. I don't know if you decided to study up for this match by watching old New Breed Wrestling footage or what...."
"And exactly what do you know of what I believe in? I don't mind at all that you wear your beliefs on your sleeve. But I don't recall once saying that I don't believe in this or that. In fact, I don't believe I've ever felt it necessary to share my beliefs with you."
"Don't talk to me about how you will overcome, Mike. Don't tell me you're gonna walk in and come out victorious...'says the Lord.'"
"It seems to me that the Lord's been telling you to get over yourself for a long time now."
"You've lost to me what...every time we've faced? What was the last belt you had around your waist, Mike? What was the last meaningful win you had?"
"Maybe it's high time you get over yourself. I don't think the Lord shares the same opinion of you that you do, or else your win-loss would look more impressive and less like the Washington Redskins."
"Trust me. You're as big a target as I've had all year....and the most vulnerable by far. You're coming into a match with possibly the greatest wrestler ever to grace a GXW ring....and you're doing it on a bad leg in a match with World Title shot implications."
"I dunno....but if I were you I might call up Lieutenant Dan and get myself fitted for one of those magic legs with the metal they use on the space shuttle....cuz if I have my way, you'll leave this match needing more than a knee surgery. And if you even think about getting funny....I'll slap you so hard, you'll change gimmicks ten times before you even hit the floor."
"There's an answer to every prayer, Mike. Sometimes though....you don't realize until it's too late that what you ask for....isn't always what you get in the end. You're about to learn that the hard way....again."
"Hey...the more things change....the more they stay the same...."
FADE OUT
"The more things change, the more things stay the same."
--------
FADE IN
DAN RYAN lies on a hotel queen bed, hands behind his head...legs crossed at the ankles.
The television flickers for a moment but not for long....a click of the remote turns the screen to black and Ryan sits up and turns to the edge of the bed...staring dead into the camera.
Ryan: "Well I suppose that was harmless enough."
"It seems my destiny to make the grand tour of the 'up and coming' circuit upon my return to active GXW duty. First Adam Benjamin and then Stephen Waltz."
Ryan smiles
"Don't be discouraged, Stevie. What happened out there in the ring was nothing more than a lesson in ring psychology, my friend. You've done a good job of getting by on some very considerable talent. I've got some talent of my own. But more than anything else, I'll do absolutely whatever it takes to win. It really doesn't matter if the fans approve or disapprove of my behavior this week. If there's a way to win, I'll find it."
"But like I said...don't be discouraged, my friend. You're a hell of a talent....and you can bet I'll be keeping an eye on you."
Ryan sits upright and cracks his neck as he continues...
"Now...naturally I've been keeping tabs of the promos as they fly through the air....some entertaining, some not so. One in particular baffles me to all hell....."
"Um, Johnny Starr....."
"You....are aware that you lost your first round match...aren't you?"
"I mean, you're not under the impression that after being pinned by Billy Starr....you still get to stay in the tournament...are you?"
"Honestly, I'm still kinda scratching my head over you. So for the sake of my own sanity, I'm gonna go ahead and just move on before I hurt myself thinkin' about it."
"Hellfighter......Michael my man. How goes it?"
"It's almost like old times, isn't it?"
"It seems like only yesterday when I was kicking ass, taking names...and you were going through a complete character overhaul. I'd never seen a more drastic one hundred eighty degree turn of character in my entire life....a man throwing away all that he stood for in an attempt to get ahead."
"Didn't work out too well did it?"
"So you managed to humble yourself and come to some personal revelations I see. The physicality of this sport started catching up with you as well, forcing you to go under the knife."
"So many things have changed lately......"
"And yet some things are apparently a constant."
"One of those things....one constant that keeps the GXW universe in perfect harmony....is that 'Hellfighter' Michael Shutt is still making tactical errors."
"After all the time I've spent in this company....all the time you've been here at the same time....you still don't know a damn thing about me. It's always the same with you...nothing new....no new knowledge....no new anything."
"I'm not interested in busting egos anymore, Mikey. 'The Ego Buster' is a moniker long dead to me....a money making gimmick to line the pockets of Chad Dupree five years ago. I don't know if you decided to study up for this match by watching old New Breed Wrestling footage or what...."
"And exactly what do you know of what I believe in? I don't mind at all that you wear your beliefs on your sleeve. But I don't recall once saying that I don't believe in this or that. In fact, I don't believe I've ever felt it necessary to share my beliefs with you."
"Don't talk to me about how you will overcome, Mike. Don't tell me you're gonna walk in and come out victorious...'says the Lord.'"
"It seems to me that the Lord's been telling you to get over yourself for a long time now."
"You've lost to me what...every time we've faced? What was the last belt you had around your waist, Mike? What was the last meaningful win you had?"
"Maybe it's high time you get over yourself. I don't think the Lord shares the same opinion of you that you do, or else your win-loss would look more impressive and less like the Washington Redskins."
"Trust me. You're as big a target as I've had all year....and the most vulnerable by far. You're coming into a match with possibly the greatest wrestler ever to grace a GXW ring....and you're doing it on a bad leg in a match with World Title shot implications."
"I dunno....but if I were you I might call up Lieutenant Dan and get myself fitted for one of those magic legs with the metal they use on the space shuttle....cuz if I have my way, you'll leave this match needing more than a knee surgery. And if you even think about getting funny....I'll slap you so hard, you'll change gimmicks ten times before you even hit the floor."
"There's an answer to every prayer, Mike. Sometimes though....you don't realize until it's too late that what you ask for....isn't always what you get in the end. You're about to learn that the hard way....again."
"Hey...the more things change....the more they stay the same...."
FADE OUT
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
An Open Memo
To: Johnny Star
From: Lindsay Troy
Date: December 31, 2003
Re: GXW Title Tournament
"Mister Dipsh*t":
First, allow me to be so bold as to point out that it's quite obvious that your brain is the one muscle that you're not using.
Perhaps you were in a comatose state when you were competing against Billy Star in the first round of the title tournament, and thus is the reason I am sending you this memo.
Please be advised that you got your ass handed to you in said match and, in turn, you have been eliminated from the GXW World Title Tournament.
So, your "incredible" dreams of winning this tournament have been shattered due to the fact that you couldn't even show up in time to cut a promo, and the fact that Billy Starr beat you from pillar to post.
In addition, I find it necessary to point out that as much as you like to believe otherwise, I have won many titles in my illustrious career thus far. Furthermore, EYE am advancing to Round Two, whereas your sorry ass is being shipped return postage to the United States and back to whatever hellhole you came from.
One of the last things I'd ever do is take advice from you. So save it, Johnny. I'm well aware of what I'm getting myself into, so move your soapbox and preach to someone else who has as low of a standard as you. The only thing you're best at is being the best godd*mn idiot I've seen since I've been here. Congratulations. I'm sure your parents are proud.
I hope FedEX has punched enough airholes in your travel box for your return trip to the States. I'd be a pity if you suffocated.
You're an idiot, Mister Johnny Starr. Please do the human race a favor and put yourself out of our misery.
Lindsay Troy
PS: Dan, don't bother trying to figure him out. I think he's beyond all hope and reason.
To: Johnny Star
From: Lindsay Troy
Date: December 31, 2003
Re: GXW Title Tournament
"Mister Dipsh*t":
First, allow me to be so bold as to point out that it's quite obvious that your brain is the one muscle that you're not using.
Perhaps you were in a comatose state when you were competing against Billy Star in the first round of the title tournament, and thus is the reason I am sending you this memo.
Please be advised that you got your ass handed to you in said match and, in turn, you have been eliminated from the GXW World Title Tournament.
So, your "incredible" dreams of winning this tournament have been shattered due to the fact that you couldn't even show up in time to cut a promo, and the fact that Billy Starr beat you from pillar to post.
In addition, I find it necessary to point out that as much as you like to believe otherwise, I have won many titles in my illustrious career thus far. Furthermore, EYE am advancing to Round Two, whereas your sorry ass is being shipped return postage to the United States and back to whatever hellhole you came from.
One of the last things I'd ever do is take advice from you. So save it, Johnny. I'm well aware of what I'm getting myself into, so move your soapbox and preach to someone else who has as low of a standard as you. The only thing you're best at is being the best godd*mn idiot I've seen since I've been here. Congratulations. I'm sure your parents are proud.
I hope FedEX has punched enough airholes in your travel box for your return trip to the States. I'd be a pity if you suffocated.
You're an idiot, Mister Johnny Starr. Please do the human race a favor and put yourself out of our misery.
Lindsay Troy
PS: Dan, don't bother trying to figure him out. I think he's beyond all hope and reason.
QueenOfTheRing
AKA Mom
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2000
- Messages
- 2,625
- Points
- 36
It worries me how dumb you are...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing in a small kitchen area of her hotel room. She rolls her eyes.
Ok Christian, I hope you're happy now. Here I am, filling the proverbial female stereotype of the 1940s and 1950s. A women in the kitchen...
She opens the door to the microwave. Inside sits a loaf of bread.
...with a bun in the oven.
She slams the microwave door shut and exits the kitchen area. She enters the "living area".
Now that we've got that out of the way, let me just remind you of something: I don't fill stereotypes. I don't cook unless I want to, and I have people clean my house for me. I have no husband who works 9-5 and no children whom I stay home and care for instead of going out and working for a living. There's no raised ranch with a white picket fence, no minivan in the driveway, no dog named Scrappy and no cat named Fluffy. So brush the clouds away from your eyes and take a good look at what's in front of you.
Face it, Christian. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. This is what I do, and I do a pretty damn good job of doing it. And if by some glitch in the Matrix you do happen to beat me, I'm still going to be at Battleground: Britain tying up some loose ends with a former Commie who I just can't seem to get out of my head.
To put it to you nicely, I think you need to get off A1E's proverbial jock. Why the hell are you so interested in where my home fed is? If you're going to knock people for "gimmicks", at least mock people who have nothing to show for themselves, like Jeffrey Bellview. Gimmicks don't make the man, and if they did, I doubt that Max and Marcus would have gotten as far as they have based soley on what sort of character they portray in front of the camera.
You sir, are a poor man's Doc Silver.
Maybe you need to brush up a little bit on your sense of irony because you're doing a piss-poor job of it. Maybe put a little more elbow grease into it to get out all the wrinkles.
Sarcastic smirk.
And since when are you the authority on who makes midcard in GXW and who doesn't? Since when do you have "inside knowledge" as to the inner workings of who got invited to this PPV and who didn't?
For the record, Dan Ryan invited myself, Beast, and Cross. Not Chad Dupree, not Erik Zieba. Not the GXW Roster. There was no "we" involved in the invitation.
Ya know why Dan Ryan invited us?
Because he respects us. That's why. Not because Dan wanted to see what the "hype" was all about. Not because he wanted to see what we could prove in front of all your boys in the back. He's seen us in person, with his own two eyes in action. He knows what we're capable of, and he invited us here because he wanted us to be here.
We have nothing to prove to you guys. We're not doing this to live up to whatever "hype" was created.
Do I have to take a jackhammer and drill this into your dense, hollow head for you to understand it?
A1E doesn't need to run on a "circuit". They've been their own entity, bringing in their own unique talent pool long before I ever got there. But on the subject of "big leagues": when TWA can finally sit at the "big league table", you go ahead and give me a call and I'll go check the temperature in Hell.
If you've got something to prove, start proving it in NFW. Go prove it in WFW. I hear Paul Miller's looking for some people to fill roster spots, and I think that he runs more than one show in a month and a half period.
This isn't an act, son. I don't need to "act". What I do need to do is get you to shut up and stop with your circle-jerk way of approaching things.
I've heard everything that you've had to say, and it makes me sick to my stomach. I know what you're going to say before it even comes out of your mouth, and I just want to stab you in the neck with a pencil. I just can't take your sh*t anymore.
Don't you ever want anything more for yourself? I know you do, you poor hapless son of a b*tch. I look into your sorry doe eyes and I just...I see a man crying out. He's crying out, "When Lord? When the f*ck can your servant ditch the meaningless existence to which I am a constant victim of other's folly, so much so that it prevents me from ever getting to kiss a girl, f*ck! When, Lord, when? When's it gonna be my time?"
But, I digress.
I couldn't possibly care less whether or not you're intimidated by me, or whether or not you're impressed with what I've said. For you are just another undercard speck on a booking sheet that's been placed in front of me that I will have to destroy in order to keep advancing up the ladder to reach John Miller and his big, shiny, gold belt.
I hope that wasn't too derrogatory for you.
And so ends another episode of "Wasting Time With Christian." Tune in next time when he blathers on about points that he's already made, insults that he's already uttered, and no-sells that he's already committed.
I'm sure we'll all have a loud-yawning good time.
Fade...
Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, standing in a small kitchen area of her hotel room. She rolls her eyes.
Ok Christian, I hope you're happy now. Here I am, filling the proverbial female stereotype of the 1940s and 1950s. A women in the kitchen...
She opens the door to the microwave. Inside sits a loaf of bread.
...with a bun in the oven.
She slams the microwave door shut and exits the kitchen area. She enters the "living area".
Now that we've got that out of the way, let me just remind you of something: I don't fill stereotypes. I don't cook unless I want to, and I have people clean my house for me. I have no husband who works 9-5 and no children whom I stay home and care for instead of going out and working for a living. There's no raised ranch with a white picket fence, no minivan in the driveway, no dog named Scrappy and no cat named Fluffy. So brush the clouds away from your eyes and take a good look at what's in front of you.
Face it, Christian. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. This is what I do, and I do a pretty damn good job of doing it. And if by some glitch in the Matrix you do happen to beat me, I'm still going to be at Battleground: Britain tying up some loose ends with a former Commie who I just can't seem to get out of my head.
To put it to you nicely, I think you need to get off A1E's proverbial jock. Why the hell are you so interested in where my home fed is? If you're going to knock people for "gimmicks", at least mock people who have nothing to show for themselves, like Jeffrey Bellview. Gimmicks don't make the man, and if they did, I doubt that Max and Marcus would have gotten as far as they have based soley on what sort of character they portray in front of the camera.
You sir, are a poor man's Doc Silver.
Maybe you need to brush up a little bit on your sense of irony because you're doing a piss-poor job of it. Maybe put a little more elbow grease into it to get out all the wrinkles.
Sarcastic smirk.
And since when are you the authority on who makes midcard in GXW and who doesn't? Since when do you have "inside knowledge" as to the inner workings of who got invited to this PPV and who didn't?
For the record, Dan Ryan invited myself, Beast, and Cross. Not Chad Dupree, not Erik Zieba. Not the GXW Roster. There was no "we" involved in the invitation.
Ya know why Dan Ryan invited us?
Because he respects us. That's why. Not because Dan wanted to see what the "hype" was all about. Not because he wanted to see what we could prove in front of all your boys in the back. He's seen us in person, with his own two eyes in action. He knows what we're capable of, and he invited us here because he wanted us to be here.
We have nothing to prove to you guys. We're not doing this to live up to whatever "hype" was created.
Do I have to take a jackhammer and drill this into your dense, hollow head for you to understand it?
A1E doesn't need to run on a "circuit". They've been their own entity, bringing in their own unique talent pool long before I ever got there. But on the subject of "big leagues": when TWA can finally sit at the "big league table", you go ahead and give me a call and I'll go check the temperature in Hell.
If you've got something to prove, start proving it in NFW. Go prove it in WFW. I hear Paul Miller's looking for some people to fill roster spots, and I think that he runs more than one show in a month and a half period.
This isn't an act, son. I don't need to "act". What I do need to do is get you to shut up and stop with your circle-jerk way of approaching things.
I've heard everything that you've had to say, and it makes me sick to my stomach. I know what you're going to say before it even comes out of your mouth, and I just want to stab you in the neck with a pencil. I just can't take your sh*t anymore.
Don't you ever want anything more for yourself? I know you do, you poor hapless son of a b*tch. I look into your sorry doe eyes and I just...I see a man crying out. He's crying out, "When Lord? When the f*ck can your servant ditch the meaningless existence to which I am a constant victim of other's folly, so much so that it prevents me from ever getting to kiss a girl, f*ck! When, Lord, when? When's it gonna be my time?"
But, I digress.
I couldn't possibly care less whether or not you're intimidated by me, or whether or not you're impressed with what I've said. For you are just another undercard speck on a booking sheet that's been placed in front of me that I will have to destroy in order to keep advancing up the ladder to reach John Miller and his big, shiny, gold belt.
I hope that wasn't too derrogatory for you.
And so ends another episode of "Wasting Time With Christian." Tune in next time when he blathers on about points that he's already made, insults that he's already uttered, and no-sells that he's already committed.
I'm sure we'll all have a loud-yawning good time.
Fade...