RP Museum (Old RP)

[LQJT86C]

Just One Dude...

(FADEIN: A ratty old apartment littered with surf and skateboard magazines, bags of half-eaten cheetos and doritos, a coffee table with wheels, bearings, and screws laying on top, all next to a fully packed bowl of weed. Against the wall sits a brown couch with a surfboard leaning up against the side of it. Sitting on the couch is a young man with long blonde frizzled hair, with a dirty blonde beard. He's shirtless, wearing a hemp necklace and white/blue board shorts)

JUST ONE DUDE LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE, YET TOTALLY WILLING TO PARTY ALONG THE WAY: Como 'sta bro, welcome to my humble abode! I have to admit, when they first told me I was booked to wrestle, I was a tad nervous. I mean like, I was trained and stuff, but I really haven't wrestled since I was in high school. Ahhh dude I wanted to be a pro wrestler SO BADLY!

Actually, I came up with this gimmick, I was gonna come out to the ring with my bong and they were gonna call me Weed Man. And my thing was that I would come out to Hotel California and smoke with my fans until the song ended, and then I would smash a big glass bong on someone's head! Dude, that woulda been so outta sight but they never let me do it. But really, at the end of the day, I don't need a gimmick. When it comes down to it, I'm just one dude looking for adventure, yet TOTALLY willing to party along the way! That's gonna be my name too, so that'd killer if you guys just called me that from now on.

So yeah, lemme tell you dudes the story of how "Just one dude looking for adventure, yet totally willing to party along the way" came to Vegas.

I was chilling bodaciously at my pad, playing Super Nintendo cause the old school games are still the best, and that's when I decided to smoke a bowl right then and there brah. So I'm hangin' back, tokin', playing Super Metroid and eating out of a box of Cocoa Puffs, when I'm like dude, I need some new threads brah.

That's when I went out to the Mission Valley mall in San Diego, to the Billabong outlet. So some dude comes up to me and is like, "Yo Todd! What are you doing??" And I'm like, "Hey brah, do I know you? What's up?? Help me find some new threads brah???" And then he says, "Nooooo you idiot, did you forget? I'm your boss, you f*ckin' work here and you're 4 hours late you idiot!"

So now I start thinking and am like "Aahhhhh dude you know what? You're totally right brah, I'm buggin'! But let me tell you why I'm late. My alarm totally didn't go off at the time I set it for, and then when I got up so late I forgot it was Wednesday and thought it was Sunday and am like "Duuuude I gotta work tomorrow but I might as well enjoy my Sunday and totally appreciate life right now." And I started playing Nintendo...and like...yo dude, so you think you could totally help me find some new Billabong threads????

And then he got all pissed at me cause the song "Down" by 311 started playing over the store speakers and I interrupted him to sing to it. I'm singin' in his face like "WEHAVECHANGEDALOTANDTHEN-SOME-SOME!"
"KNOWTHATWEHAVEALWAYSBEEN-DOWN-DOWN!"

Then he's like "Dude...seriously?...you're fired!"

I go back home to my parents house and my dad's all like in a serious voice like "Ummm...son? Did you get fired today son? You did, didn't you? Slacker...I knew it. You have no ambition, no future. All you want to do is sit in your room playing those damn game tapes and doing pot. You're lucky I pay for you to live under my roof."

Dude, F*CK THAT, DUDE! I told my old man that I DO HAVE a future, and I don't have to live under his bogus rules anymore. So I decided to change the world and invent the first ever hybrid, wind and crunchberry residue powered moped. And dude don't tell anybody, but I definitely stole my neighbor Randy's moped from his dad's garage and used it in my experiments. Duuude, that miniature windmill I attached on the back? Cost me like $8,000 dollars! And I had to buy 45 boxes of captain crunchberries every week just to get the hybrid moped to reach it's max speed of 3.5 miles per hour.

Needless to say, I was strapped for cash, especially given that I was using a lot of the money my dad gave me on slurpees at 7-11 and weed from the guy over at the San Diego bodeaga. Annnyyywaayyy, when my project was complete I decided to take a road trip with the wind/crunchberry moped over to Las Vegas to show the world that we don't need foreign oil, cause all we ever needed was nature's wind and whole lot of crunchberries dude.

I was so stoked to change the planet, but that's when the windmill broke due to resistence from the crunchberries. So now I need money to fix it, and it's kinda bummin' me out. That's when I saw fliers for LVW and was like, I know I never held a job for more than a month cause I'm always late, but I'm pretty sure I could show up for these matches. Plus I was trained by the famed female lucha libre of California, La Puta Gringa. She taught me all kinds of moves, so now I'm wrestling to fix my moped.

So that's the story of "Just One Dude Looking For Adventure, Yet Totally Willing to Party Along the Way"

I don't know who my first opponent's gonna be, but I just wanna say, no hard feelings brah, just doing what a dude's gotta do to fix his moped. Seriously dude, if you just wanna like show up with me and smoke in the ring instead of fight, I think the LVW dudes would be down with that. How could people possibly complain about such an awesome scenario????

Like Gandhi said, I'm a man of nonviolence, and I do have a dream. And this dude's dream is to ride that wind and crunchberry moped into history!

Peace brah.

(FADE)

 

[Koby]

LVW Baby! The Greatest Ever Has Returned!

(FADEIN: Tight shot of... something. Shot quickly zooms out far, revealing a man nibbling on a Mini Chips Ahoy!, lying on a couch, a microphone on his belly, a small remote in his hand aimed at your screen - indeed, THE GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE.)

THE GOL: (grabbing mic with his free hand) "There we go... fans of LVW, welcome to the home of... The Gentleman of Leisure. (someone grumbles off screen, THE GOL looks in it peripheral direction then back at your screen) And... here with me today, ready for his return to Las Vegas Wrestling, I bring you, Bill Bellmoth!"

(GOL clicks on his remote, and the view swings left to BILL BELLMOTH, in all his glory, sitting in a sofa seat. Wearing a black, zipped up Ultimate Raise jacket, his signature interlocking BB cap, and custom Oakleys, BELLMOTH goes from frown to flashing a million dollar smile at the camera, giving two thumbs up!)

THE GOL: "So Bill... I have to ask-"

BILL BELLMOTH: "What I have to ask is why I'm here in this rathole you call a home-"

THE GOL: "I am... the Gentleman of Leisure, afterall. You expected me to get off my ass to go out to The Strip to meet you?"

BELLMOTH: "This isn't about you, buddy, this is about (points at self) ME. You see... I was up at TPC Summerlin yesterday morning, watching my good friend, golf pro Corey Pavin, playing a few holes, giving him some pointers on how to improve his game to be as good as (points to self) ME, Bill Bellmoth. Then we went and had a fantastic lunch at B&B over at the Palazzo, where we met up with his wife Lisa and a couple others; we had the Dom Perignon flowing, and let me tell you, EVERYONE was LOVING the company... and then, we went over to the Hard Rock, and we met up with my good friend Axl Rose backstage, before we went and rocked out to some Gn'R, baby, and... (BELLMOTH puts his arms up, palms to the sky) ...and I thought, what could Bill Bellmoth possibly do to give back to this city? That's when the thought hit me... why not return to where it all began? Why not come back to LVW, and give to it MY star power? What better way... (BELLMOTH catches himself)... I mean, what better way to promote this return show, then to feature the (BELLMOTH puts up both index fingers) ELEVEN TIME... World Champion? Who else but me?"

THE GOL: "Eleven times?"

BELLMOTH: "Eleven times, baby! See... each World Championship was so important to me that, since they wouldn't let me keep carry all those belts around... even with these Atlas-like shoulders, my agents wanted me to take it easy... but I said to myself, how can I, Bill Bellmoth, share with MY fans in MY greatness? So I went to my good friend, Jacob the Jeweler, and I had... (BELLMOTH rolls up his left sleeve, revealing jewelry that...) ...I had him make REPLICA BRACELETS, of ALL of my Championship belts!"

THE GOL: "Wow, that's-"

BELLMOTH: (pointing at the bracelet closest to his hand) "You see this one right here? This is from the AMW up north - Alaska Moose Wrestling. I still remember it like it was yesterday... me and my good friend, Alexei Pokerov, finally teaching that crazy woman they had for a champ what Russia was really all about-"

THE GOL: "You beat a-"

BELLMOTH: (pointing at the next bracelet) "Oh and this one... (laughs) ...from the TJW, Tijuana Wrestlin-"

THE GOL: "Bill, enough with story-time. I gotta roll over soon and get back to sleep."

BELLMOTH: "You donkey! (looks in the camera's direction) Here I am, the (points up both index fingers) ELEVEN TIME World Champion, talking about my World Title victories, and this guy just decides to cut me off! ME! Well let me tell you something buddy... you send this message to James Donovan. You and him both are just a pair of donkey luckboxes. How you ever got this job interviewing people, and how Donovan ever became the first-ever LVW Champion is still beyond me. I mean... how? HOW? How do they do it?"

"James Donovan, look buddy... you are going up against one of the greatest one-on-one wrestlers of all time! I have 11 World Championships to prove it! And I will show you, and the rest of LVW, that it's negative EV to cross paths with Bill Bellmoth, and that no one can bring it like I can, because all EYE do... is DODGE BULLETS, BABY!"

(END)

 

[LQJT86C]

Awww dude! SORRY DUDE!

(CUTTO: JUST ONE DUDE sitting in a red beanbag in the corner of his room with a Super Nintendo controller in his hand. He also has a bag of cheetos in his lap)

J1D: (spits out a bunch of orange crumbs) DUDE! Seriously? I did not know that you were quite possibly a homeless dude until I watched the replay of our match! Like, I just looked at your skunked out threads and thought you were like a minimalist or something, like Ghandi. Chhhyah brah, Ghandi is way boss!

Anyway, I am sorry for beatin' up on ya and totally scroddin' your ride. I am way supportive of food and shelter for homeless dudes all over the planet, especially here on American soil. That's why I charged ahead and put together a little token of my appreciation in the form of a gift basket!

(reaches beside the bean bag and picks up a basket full of various items)

Just a little something I whipped together at the last second, partly funded by the money my parents sent me, and partly funded by me totally hocking three very valuable boxes of Captain Crunchberries on the Vegas strip three hours ago. Hope you like it, brosef!

Here we go, first item. A totally haggard yet slightly bodacious coffee mug, featuring a picture of Yours Truly on the front, giving the totally awesome thumbs up! So now when you drink your coffee, homeless dude, you can look at this picture and know that I'm most definitely saying to you, "hang in there homeless dude. Life is a gnarley riptide, and you don't necessarily need a body board to surf it brah!" Next, we have, of course, a box of Teddy Grahams. Don't leave home without 'em dude!

Nawww, wait a second brosef, did I say home? I uh....meant, um....your totally righteous cardboard abode which I am so not judging you for residing in???? OK so we got a riptastic coffee mug, box of Teddy Grahams...AH, right, can't forget these... iso-toners, duuude! For when your hands get chilly around the holidays!

And remember brah, sharing is caring, so if you know any other homeless dudes in need of these, spread the wealth in the name of Yours Truly, Just One Dude! Last but not least, I got you a big box of taco shells! So now you have something to eat your tacos with, dude!

(Puts the gift basket down)

As for the rest of the Vegas crew...look dudes, I'm not trying to come down on you at all. But at the same time, I gotta get home somehow! And to do that I need to earn money. And to do that I need to win that gold! So if you're willing, I'll just smoke some bud with you in the ring, as long as we're clear on who the rightful gold miner is in the EL-VEE-DUB dudes!

'Cause like, it's not right if you're in it just for the glory. Dudes, I'm all for any of you winning gold, but you don't understand, I NEED TO GET HOME!

Seriously! If one of you needed the belt for a good reason I'd be more than happy to troll out any turd burglars who got in your way. In this case though brosefs, I'm a brah in need! I generally am a non-violent man of peace, but if you force me to go apesh*t, I'll have to drop a few chill pills brah.

This promotion is way haggard, but there ain't any waves in the desert, you catch my drift? California is just wayyy too wicked.

Peace bros, and I hope one of you can find it in your heart to do a good deed for a bro in need! And if any of you need to e-mail me, please do so at J1D@bablefish.net.

(FADEOUT)

 

[John Doe]

Sa-Sa-SA-SUPER SPADE!!!!!

FADE IN....

_WOOSH!_

A very dark African American runs in front of the camera that is placed in front of a very cheap LVW backdrop. He is wearing an all latex superhero costume. On the chest sits a large SS. A mask on his face as a scrolling text goes across the bottom of the screen "This Is An Alert From Super Spade!".

SUPER SPADE: "Wot be dat der dat dey be askin'? It be a bird, be a plane, nah, it be de true super hero dat be aroun' dem parts o'ver 'ere, mon. Suuuuuuuuppppppeeeeeeerrrrrr Sppppppaaaaaaddddddeeeee (This of course echos with out any hesitation)."

SUPER SPADE: "Dem peepole be lookin' for a real persons to be competing in der place dat be El Ve Double-Chu. I don't be mindin' dat dey hire me, mon. I be gottin' dem skills!"

-Screen change to Super Spade attempting to run through traffic only to be wiped out by a car, his body floating in the air like a rag doll as the car that hit him slams on its breaks.-

SUPER SPADE: "I be gottin' dat speed der, mon."

-Screen change to Super Spade in a pen with a tiger, he is trying to reach the exit which is blocked by the figure of the beast in front of him. He makes a dart from him, all we see is the camera pan away as a large growl is heard followed by a high pitched scream-

SUPER SPADE: "I be havin' all den Super Powers dat be needed to beat dem peeople in dat ring o'ver der, mon. I be da Super Spade!"

He pauses and looks around.

SUPER SPADE: "I be seein' ya, mon"

FADEOUT

 

[The Great Eye]

Donovan Vs A-Rod

RP for this match here.

 

[The Great Eye]

Andrews Vs Olvir

Rp for this match here

 

[The Great Eye]

J1D Vs Super Spade

RP for the match here.

 

[The Great Eye]

Dakota Vs Hudgins

Rp for the match here.

 

[John Doe]

I Be Da Super Spade, Chu Be Ready, Mon?

_WOOSH_

FADEIN.....

The bottom of the screen flashes white text, cheaply animated like a poor marketing commercial "THIS IS AN ALERT FROM SUPER SPADE!" The scene is in a dark alley as a figure emerges from the poor lighting. A figure that we know as Super Spade! The recluse of superheroes the shadow in the light, the most elusive Superhero of superheros. He dawns his attire, black latex suit with green and yellow stripes. The large SS on his suit his symbol of trust and everlasting justice! He stands arms on his hips as his masked face looks up to the right.

SS: "It'd be me, mon. DA Suuuuppppperrrr Spaddddeeee!!!!!! (This echoes of course.) I be gettin' dat der letter, mon, dat be tellin' me dat I be havin' me a match at da place dat be needin' me der, El-Vee0- Double-Chu!!!! Dey be wantin' me to take care of der enemy dey got der dat be. Um, dat be......wot he be again....ah dat be it der, mon. Ja-one-dee. I be watching you der, mon. You be in dat video dat I be seein' 'bout how you became da wrestla, mon."

Super Spade jumps up to a shut dumpster that sits in this alleyway, only to miss it slightly and use his boots to climb up the rest of the way on top of this dumpster. He crouches as the camera changes position so it is looking up at him.

SS: "Dat be cool der, mon. But I be tellin' ya, mon, don't ya be lookin' to be in dis 'ere match with me mon, dinking dat chu gonna be comin' out with one of dem wins over da Supppppppeeeerrrrr Spppppaaadddddeeeee!!!! I be a watchin' you mon, be watchin' wot you be doin' and how you be actin' 'bout dem parts o'ver 'ere, mon. I be in da El Vee Double Chu to be protectin' da people from de crimes cha be commitin' der, mon."

Super Spade jumps off the dumpster doing a failed half a spin the cape on his back flipping and flying everywhere as he stands not even facing the camera his back to it.

SS: "I be seein' dem crimes ya do be commitin', dem poor games chu be playing, wot it be called, dat Metriod, da Super Spade not be playin' no games. Da super Spade be havin dem powers, mon! Dat speed, dat agility, dat fastness dat be needin' to beat cha, mon! Cha don't be realizin' of how fast da Super Spade truly be till I be hittin' ya, mon, speed of da sound, speed of the sharks in dem waters. On de attack, on de prowl waitin' for chu to attack den da Super Spade got ya in me trap."

He turns around quickly to face the camera his hands out wide and slamming together quickly making a large slap sound as he looks at the camera through his semi crooked mask

SS: "I be sayin' dat the fans be seein' how great da Super Spade be, mon! Dey be seein' when we be in dat ring how da Super Spade be crushin' the villains of dis place 'ere, mon! I be a ready for chu, mon. I be a ready to take chu to da limits, I be ready to fly dem circles aroun' ya, mon. I be lookin' to use me laser vision on ya too mon, but dat be too much blood for dem boys do be cleanin' up in dat ring der."

He points to the sky as he talks h his next sentence.

SS: "I be sayin' da way to da fan's heart, be through ya stomach. But I be goin' through ya ribcage! You be understandin' dat der, mon? I be waitin' for cha to be in dat ring and when chu finally be in der, I be showin' chu da wrath for five thousan' gods. I bring me fist 'ere into ya piece der and pop dat right off in da flash of a camera, mon."

SS: "Da Super Spade be a ready for dis match 'ere, mon. Dem question be is Ja-One-Dee be ready to take on not jus' any booty but de SUUUUPPPPEEERRR SPAAAAADDDDEEEEEE!!!!!!!!"

SS: "I Be Seein' Ya, Mon."

FADEOUT

 

[LQJT86C]

Re: J1D Vs Super Spade

(FADEIN: JUST ONE DUDE LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE, YET TOTALLY WILLING TO PARTY ALONG THE WAY outside of a Nevada 7-11, drinking out of a Slurpee straw)

J1D: (slurping out the last drops; looks at the empty cup, and tosses it in the trash) Yo brah, what gives? Why so angry dude? This wave's big enough for both of us to rip, why feel the need to totally come down on me in a not-so-awesome way?

LVW is like those awesome night times waves, golden folding towards me as I ready my board, and I'm just straight front porchin' it to the shore dude! And right now brah, no offense, but you're totally being that assmunch who's gotta cut me off every time I'm stoked for a wave.

Why not just live peaceful like the Maharucci, and come join me in the ring for a blaze of the skunk? I always thought Jamaicans were quite peaceful, brosef, and that maybe you and I could find some common ground.

Well the DEAL'S OFF, brah! Obviously you're just tryin' to snake the waves that I'm scopin', and that's not cool either. Losing to you means that not only am I too broke to get home, but also too broke to afford gnarley 7-11 grindage.

Man, what self-respecting Jamaican refuses to smoke super high quality sativa plant in the ring with a far out innovator from Cali, brah?

Now...I have no choice, brosef, (gets into karate stance) but to use my hands to defend myself! I'd like to wish you luck dude, but you're gonna need a lot more than J1D's lucky stones to come out of this one with a W. Sure hope they're payin' the losers well, brah, otherwise Columbia Pictures is totally gonna take you to trademark infringement court when you come up short on Blankman's royalties.

Nah brah, I'm sorry, this isn't me talkin'. The true J1D wants to make peace, not war, so OK...I'm givin' you this one last chance to make amends dude. I want you to first make one bodacious apology, to me, and then I wanna smoke that South American sativa plant with you dude.

So are we cool now, brosef? Get back at me, I'll be chilaxin' at my pad on the beanbag, of course! Catch ya later brah, and sorry for all the unwarranted anger.

(FADE OUT)

 

[dakotainferno]

Re: Dakota Vs Hudgins

(OPEN: Strong silhouette against stark white backdrop.)

I'm not deluding myself.

I have not the expectation nor the inclination to be listed among the "greats" of this sport. As much as I appreciate the fans and as hard as I work for my money... I'd much rather be absolutely certain where I rank with ME than always wonder exactly where I stand with the people in the seats.

(The silhouette smiles despite itself.)

I'll never have an endorsement contract and I'll never, not once, do a guest spot on SNL. And believe me when I say it; all of that is just fine with me.

Over ten years in the sport and I've seen the top and lived at the bottom. Struggled, clawed, bled, cried, and earned. I'm content with a modest pay day, knowing I put it all out there every time,without exception, and the comfort of a cold six pack at the end of the night. I've no dreams of besting the best the fWo has to offer, selling out the next Fish Fund, headlining a Wrestlestock, or competing in the TEAM Invitational...

(A stiff break.)

Well... maybe that last one could happen.

What I'm getting at is ... that's not what drives me. I've been in this sport for over a decade and while it's true I've sat the last few years out, dealing with what needed to be dealt with, what drives me hasn't gone away.

It still drives me.

I'm not deluding myself. I haven't been on american TV - local or national - in 8 years. If I was lucky you might count on ONE hand the number of folks, wrestling afficianado's and admitted nerds, who've wondered where Dakota has been all these damn years.

But after the High Risk ... after collecting what's got to be my Reward... you can add one MORE person to that list. Jack Hudgins'll be wondering just where in the hell Nate Dakota came from.

But that's not what's important. It's not about where I've been. It's not even about where I'm going.

(CUT: Tighter shot on the face of the silhouette. Barely could one might out it's features. It is unclear whether this lighting is by design or circumstance.)

It's about what's DRIVING me there. But that's for me to know... and Jack Hudgins to feel.

It's ironic that this new chapter in my career, in my life, is set in Las Vegas. Ironic that I find myself back in the City of Sin. A lot has changed since then but the memories are unchanged. The scars run deep and the debts are long outstanding. Might say I'm putting myself to the ultimate test. Say that and I'll remind you that I'm a quick study.

But... I'm not deluding myself.

(CLOSE.)

 

[TH]

Re: Donovan Vs A-Rod

The scene is outside of the Las Vegas premiere for I Love You, Man. A black stretch limousine rolls up to the red carpet and the window rolls down to reveal none other than Cowboy Jimmy Donovan. A throng of reporters rushes up to the window, only to be mostly disappointed that it's a pro wrestler and not Wayne Newton or Siegfried. A few reporters stay to ask questions of the once and possibly future LVW Champion.

Reporter #1: Jimmy, are you nervous about the possible stipulations?

Reporter #2: Do you know anything about your opponent?

Reporter #3: Is it true that you caught syphillis at the amputee brothel?

JD: Fellers, fellers, one question at a time! Cowboy Jimmy Donovan ain't the kinda guy who takes kindly to peoples talkin' over each other now. Couldja first lemme get outta this here stretch limousine?

Jimmy gets out of the limo revealing a black tuxedo top, a bola tie on a white shirt, a white cowboy hat, wingtip shoes and... his custom made Mandalay-Bay advertising wrestling trunks. The shirt is tucked into the trunks, and his ban-lon socks are pulled all the way up his shins. An audible groan comes up from the crowd at the questionable attire.

JD: Awwright now, who wants to ask the once-an'-future LVW World's Heavyweight Champion a question!

All Three Reporters: Why the hell are you in that get-up?

JD: Whoa, whoa, whoa, simmer down, y'all. I done already explained why I have to wear these trunks everywhere I go. Five Gs is a lotta money fer me to not be wearin' these things all the time. Now, one question at a time, already takin' into account the reason why I'mma wearin' these 'rasslin' trunks.

R #2: Jimmy, do you know anything about your opponent?

JD: Well, I... I reckon I don't. Alls I know about him is a name an' that he done shares a nickname with that guy I met at the tranny brothel in New York City that one time, Alex Rodriguez. I can say that I didn't quite take to the trannies, but that A-Rod, dang! He paid fer three of 'em at a time when I saw 'im there. He likes his wimmens manly if I do say so mahself. So if my opponent is anything like that other A-Rod, well then, I might want to bulk up on mah strength training, because he likes them manly wimmens throwin' him around and he's got that stamina built up.

R #1: Cowboy, what about the stipulations, given that your reward for winning could mean a favorable draw for the LVW Championship Battle Royale?

JD: Well, I reckon that it ain't gonna matter when I get into that there battle royale, because no matter what position I be in, whether it's the first or the second or the thirtieth, or the missionary, reverse cowgirl, piledriver, Jimmy Donovan's always got what it takes to pull through, an' in the case when I happen to forget a condom, pull out as well. Now, of course, I ain't lookin' to lose none of mah matches, so I don't expect to hafta be afraid of drawin' number one outta that first punch bowl, but whether I end up pickin' sixteen or thirty, well, it ain't gonna matter. Ain't nothin' keepin' Cowboy Jimmy Donovan from winnin' back the title that he ain't never lost in the middle of that there ring.

R #3: Jimmy, did you get syphillis at the amputee whorehouse?

JD: Aww hell naw, that was nothin' but a case of false reportin'. I just had an adverse reaction to them oysters they put out at the snack bar. Turns out alls I done had to do was go home and take some penicillin, which I buy in bulk given the nature of mah lifestyle and such.

Awwright, if that be all, I'mma gonna go in and watch what the Las Vegas Sun calls the best buddy comedy of the year so far! Yeehaw!

Jimmy walks into the theater as the scene fades to the LVW logo.

 

[MikeyMassacre]

Re: Andrews Vs Olvir

[FADEIN: Richard Andrews is standing in front of a tall mirror in his small apartment in downtown Las Vegas. He is very thin but well-toned. His red hair is without sideburns, parted in the middle and very poofy. It stands nearly eight inches from his scalp. Andrews is wearing a very tight amateur wrestling singlet. He checks himself out and nods affirmatively.]

ANDREWS: I am looking very fit, Bertha, I must say!

[Andrews flexes in the mirror as the camera pans over to show a forthysomething woman wearing excessive make-up, her mullett-esque hair tied in a pony tail. She is chewing gum loudly as she paints her nails.]

MARTHA: Yut.

ANDREWS: You don't think my singlet is too tight, do you? I mean, it's been almost twenty years since I wore it back in high school. I was smaller then.

Martha doesn't look up.

MARTHA: Yut.

ANDREWS: Yeah, you're right. It does look good on me. Say, honey, did you do research on my opponent?

MARTHA: Yut.

ANDREWS: What'd you find out, honey?

MARTHA: Yut.

ANDREWS: You must not be able to hear me. I said... what did you learn about this... Olvir?

MARTHA: Oh, oh. Yes. Apparently he is a Viking. And a porn star.

ANDREWS: So we have a lot in common then!

MARTHA: Yut.

ANDREWS: Don't you think so?

Martha finishes painting one hand and begins painting the other.

MARTHA: Huh?

ANDREWS: Don't you think Olvir and I have a lot in common? I mean, he's a former movie star. And I starred in that movie on Lifetime five years ago. Remember that one, honey? Where I played the abusive husband's bartender's neighbor's dog walker?

MARTHA: I thought your scene was cut?

ANDREWS: Yeah... but I'm sure my name just being associated with it helped to draw big Neilsen numbers.

MARTHA: It didn't register on the Neilsens

ANDREWS: Well, the whole Neilsen system is messed up anyways. I am sure it's just a coincidence those twelve-thousand families happened to be the only ones who didn't turn in.

MARTHA: It was on at 3AM on a Sunday morning. And they cancelled it halfway through.

ANDREWS: Okay, well, we both were filmed for movies. How many people can say that?

[FADEOUT.]

 

[CaptCongaLine]

Perhaps I'm in the Wrong Place?

(FADEIN: Tight shot of white and red leather glistening under stage lamps and the sound of liquid splashing around.)

(CUTTO: The red and white is the leather of a wrestler's mask. The MASKED MAN wears a pinstripe suit with jacket and vest, holding a classy glass of Brandy in his left hand. He peels his jacket tail back and places his free hand on his hip. His focus shifts to the camera before him.)

MASKED MAN: "Allo." (gesturing with the glass) "What you see before you may or may not confuse. I'm pretty sure you can figure out that..." (once again with the glass) "...I..." (takes a small sip) "...am not some Plumbing champion or female pleasure hole or even your every-day, weed-smoking mega-star. No..." (pondering) "Not yet, anyway. Heh heh.." (he loses himself in thought and grins) "For I am de Spaniard."

(ZOOM: The SPANIARD grins and swigs some Brandy again. He raies his arms in the air rapidly with the glass in hand.)

SPANIARD: "Welcome me, Las Vegas! Oh n-" (SPANIARD looks up)

(ZOOMOUT: The boom mic falls on top of the SPANIARD as the screech of feedback through the input line causes for the LVW Title Screen to appear.)

[DUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES
LAS VEGAS WRESTLING PROGRAMMING
WILL RETURN BRIEFLY]
​

(CUTTO: The GENTLEMAN OF LEISURE sleeps on his couch. The SPANIARD, storming by, slowls down his gate enough to become curious of the situation. He stops, glaring down at the lifeless heap of interviewing expertise, as if something compells him to do so.)

SPANIARD: "Well, GENTLEMAN, that is a good point. Do the fans even know me? I'm not sure! (SPANIARD purses his lips and scratches his chin) There's only one way to find out! QUICK! (SPANIARD jumps in the air, landing inches away from GOL. Still no movement.) Where did de Spaniard grow up!?"

(SPANIARD pauses and waits for his on-screen counter to awake. No movement comes from GOL's region of the scene, yet again.)

SPANIARD: "For somebody with a lot of resources you sure don't seem to-"

(SPANIARD flailsl his arms crazily in mid-sentence CLEARLY interrupting GOL.)

SPANIARD: "OH MY JESUS! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY CORRECT! In fact I DO come from America. Spanish Harlem to be exact. Little would the fans of LVW know that a foreigner's family can do very well in this country if given enough can-do and know-how in their cup each mornin'."

(SPANIARD looks to GOL once again. He begins chuckling aloud. then stops with all the seriousness of a stroke.)

SPANIARD: "Oh my, GENTLEMAN..." (SPANIARD pauses and stares to the floor.) "That sounds dangerous..."

(CUTTO: The hottest point of the night in Vegas - midnight - packs the Bellagio club BANK with twenty-somethings and cocktail dresses. And a red and white leather mask.)

SPANIARD: "I... love..."

(EXTREMEZOOM: SPANIARD's blue eyes reflect strobe lights, free drinks, a night filled with sinful wishes and one hell of a sex party.)

SPANIARD: "VEEEEGAAASSS!!!" (SPANIARD flails his arms even more than he did whe he blatantly interrupted GOL. Then the sea of sexy bodies and bad intentions engulf him like a baby eats a cheerio. CHOMP.)

(CUTTO: Splash screen for BIG RISK, BIG REWARD presented by Las Vegas Wrestling.)

(FADETOBLACK.)

[FIN]

 

[BarryClarkJr]

Tea Bagger.....

(Camera opens up in the back of a dark room. You see an old film projector in B/W playing the match up from 1990 Walter Ray Williams vs Jack Hudgins in slow motion)

(V/O of the late great CHRIS SCHENKEL: 1990 PBA K-MART Tournament of Champions. It pitted Jack 7-10 Hudgins, potentially the rookie of the year facing Walter Ray Williams in the finals. Jack being notorious for picking up any split on the wood. Defeating all opponents thrown to him, as well legends. But on one given night his life would change forever. Walter Ray finished with a 255 as Jack Hudgins carried a 254 into the 10th frame being an almost lock to win.)

(CUTS TO ACTUAL FOOTAGE...)

SCHENKEL: Jack up for his first shot in the tenth frame.......Simply needing one pin to tie, and two pins to win. Rookie of the year maybe?

(Hudgins throws..................)

SCHENKEL: OHHHHH MY!!! GUTTER!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!

(Disbelief among fans in the crowd, much along with Jack. Jack walks back with no problem knowing all he needs is two pins)

SCHENKEL: One gutter ball in the tenth frame ladies and gentlemen. Jack simply needs one pin to tie, or two to win. The set up......

OOOOOOOHHHHH NOOOOOOO!!!! JACK HUDGINS HAS JUST THROWN A DOUBLE GUTTER IN THE TENTH! I DON'T BELIEVE IT. WALTER RAY WILLIAMS HAS JUST BEAT JACK HUDGINS 255-254........

(FILM ENDS)

(FADEIN to a B/W side shot of Hudgins sitting on the couch in the year with a lit cigarette in his mouth taking notes on a pad talking to himself)

JACK 7-10 HUDGINS: Two dots over to the left.....

(Puffs the cigarette very hard jotting down notes)

.....Oil pattern

(QUICK TWO SECOND CLIP OF FAST MOTION BOWLING)

......Dry far right

(QUICK TWO SECOND CLIP OF FAST MOTION BOWLING)

....Oily center

(QUICK TWO SECOND CLIP OF FAST MOTION BOWLING)

....The ******* rack was off center.

(QUICK TWO SECOND CLIP OF FAST MOTION BOWLING)

(Camera pans around to the front of his face with the still lit cigarette in his mouth, taking notes, along with a bowling glove on his hand)

JACK HUDGINS: 7-10 is finally heading to Vegas. FINALLY!! Nate Dakota, what size shoe do you dare to wear? What pound ball do you dare to throw against me? Will you bring your powder sack? You dare to challenge me to a bowling duel?

WELL 7-10 accepts.

How have you lived at the bottom while drinking six packs? I've been to every rock n bowl on Fridays since the age of eleven drinking pitchers of beer passing out cups to teens......... till your mom. Become a regular at the lanes like I do, they all know your name. The only name not on that list is NATE DAKOTA. I could careless where NATE DAKOTA came from or has done. Your a mire part timer, and you just so happen to take up all my air time I need. CBS for you? Forget it. NBC? ESPN?

We are talking about the bowling capital of the world. I WANT WALTER RAY WILLLLLLLLLIIIIAAAAMMMMSSSSS!!

....And oh yeeeeeeeeeahhhh. Nate Dakota.

BIG RISK BIG REWARD?! I will stick your head in the ball return......and get charged for it. It'll be worth it. Just give me my PBA card......

(FADEOUT)

 

[PaulNJ21]

Re: Donovan Vs A-Rod


::Aaron Roddick is in his penthouse gym in New York City, shirtless staring at his body in the mirror in awe, posing::

RODDICK: Magnificent....

::Roddick kisses the reflection of himself in the mirror as the “The Captain” David Richter walks in with his bag::

RICHTER: You two should get a room together.

::surprised, acts nervous and then starts laughing::

RODDICK: I knew you were there all along. I was just putting on a little gun show. ::flexes his arms:: Late to gym again?

RICHTER: I was busy visiting some sick children in the hospital.

RODDICK: When you aren't blessed with my natural genetics, you have to work ten times harder. You have to give up all this public relation BS.

RICHTER: There wasn't any press there.

RODDICK: Did you forget to set it up through the agency?

RICHTER: I didn't tell them. They always make a circus out of things for doing the right thing.

RODDICK: Yeah, F the press! They are always looking to tear you down. They won't beat me and they can't beat me. Especially with the raw ability that I have...

RICHTER: That is spirit. You have to focus on your match with Jimmy Donovan. Your body looks good to go, have you been training with the amateur wrestlers I brought in.

RODDICK: Nah, what are those amateurs going to teach a professional like myself? You waste all your time in the gym working against those guys, sometimes as early as four in the morning, instead of being in the gym trying to put on twenty more pounds of muscle.

RICHTER: I do what works for me, you do what works for you. But it couldn't hurt to spend more time in the ring...

RODDICK: I'm taking on a cowboy. The most action he gets 2009 is when he accidentally milks the bull instead of the cow.

RICHTER: He is a former LVW World's Heavyweight Champion.

RODDICK: Another star of yesteryear who thinks he can hang with a modern day athlete... Tell me, did he ever beat Aaron “A-Rod” Roddick on his way to winning the title?

RICHTER: No, but...

RODDICK: Exactly, And he never will, come on Da-Ric, lets head to Vegas...

FTB

 

[RStrawsma]

Valhalla Productions 006 - What Happens In Valhalla, Stays In Valhalla

(From black, we fade into the murk of the Chronic Cave, the hideaway and base-of-operations for the dynamic professional wrestling tag duo, the former CHRONIC COLLIZION!! It’s more of a basement than a cave, actually. A low-hanging blanket of mist lingers over the room, which is furnished with couches and coffee tables plucked from dumpsters and decorated with a variety of band and film posters and a plethora of multi-colored and psychedelic tapestries, sheets, and curtains. It’s the kind of place one would come to if they were looking for a place to be while tripping balls…)

(While a Black Sabbath vinyl plays in the background, we find two sofas occupied with two sleeping forms, both being “The Former ESCAPE ARTIST” Erik Black and “The Ex-RAGING RUSSIAN” Ivan Dalkichev. Both of them are snoring loudly at two distinctively different tones that seem to obnoxiously grate together.)

(This lull is quite appropriately broken by something equally obnoxious.)

“DUUUUHHHH-RRAAAWWWWWP OOOOUUUUUUUUTTTT OOOFFF LIIIIIIIIFFFFFFEEEEEEE WWIITTHH BBBBBOOOOOOOOONNNNGGGGG IIIIIIIINNN—”

(Mid-snore, Erik Black’s arm SHOOTS straight into the air with his cell phone tightly clenched in his fingers. He quickly rouses himself and answers the phone, only slightly awake.)

Erik Black
Uhm, hullo…?

…

Las Vegas Wrestling?! You’re BACK?!!

…awesome, dude.

…

…you want me to come back as a talent rep? For… HIM?

Do you think I’m CRAZY?! There’s NO WAY I’d be your talent rep again! Because of all the trouble that guy caused, I turned to WEED to deal with my stress! Now I’m a textbook STONER!!

…although, strangely, I have no problem with that.

…

Well, wait a moment… I may not be able to help you out, but I think I can refer you to somebody who can…

(Flash Forward: We quickly cut to a charter bus pulling up outside the gates leading into VALHALLA STUDIOS in Las Vegas, Nevada. For specializing in adult entertainment, the studio looks remarkably similar to the kind of lot you’d see in Hollywood. Stepping off the bus and onto the pavement, standing at a meager 5’7”, is a man in his mid-twenties. Black’s phone conversation continues.)

Erik Black
His name is IGGY DORKJANKER. He lives in the Las Vegas area, and he could use a job…

(Iggy looks like he hasn’t crawled out from behind a computer screen in a good while. His acne-riddled faced lights up as he gazes upon the porn mecca standing before him.)

Erik Black
How do I know him? Well, he’s a friend of mine living there in the Las Vegas area. Actually, uh… he’s my guildmaster in World of Warcraft.

(Like a kid on Christmas Eve, Erik Black’s potential replacement approaches the security booth at the front, flashing the LVW badge hanging by a lanyard around his neck with fanboy-like enthusiasm. The horned-helmeted dwarf on duty gives him the sign to pass, and resumes rifling through the Hustler in his hands. Iggy steps into Valhalla Studios, gawking at everything around him with a perverted grin.)

Erik Black
Why am I recommending him? Well, it’s not quite because I think he’s the right person for the job… but I think he can benefit by hanging around you know who. Iggy’s, uh… he’s a different kind of guy…

(Iggy stops dead in his tracks as a pair of bikini clad “actresses” amble by. They look perfect in all the right places. He nearly melts in place.)

Erik Black
Anyway, he’s also a HUGE Olvir fan, so I’d be willing to bet he’d do it for next to nothing. If you’re interested, give him a call…

(Peering further up the lot, LVW’s latest staff acquisition spots the building he’s looking for: The infamous Studio 69. Eagerly, he approaches it, grabbing the handle to the first door he sees and stepping inside. The camera pans up to spot a lit up bulb beneath a sign that reads, “DO NOT ENTER WHEN LIT: FILMING IN PROGRESS.”)

(We cut to inside, where Iggy Dorkjanker has walked straight into a pitch black studio.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Darn! Where’s the light switch in here?

(Deprived of his sight, Iggy wanders forward… until his hands find the brass knob of an unmarked door.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Let’s see what’s behind door number one…

(As curious as a cat with its nose in a blender and its paws dangerously close to the puree button, Iggy gives the knob a twist and steps through…)

(…and right onto a well-lit soundstage in front of a row of lights and cameras, as well as a number of confused crewmembers. The stage is set up in a way to make it look like a standard Las Vegas hotel room, even having a window revealing a matte background of the city lit up at night. Iggy’s rabbit-like eyes pop open as he realizes his mistake.)

(From off-camera, we hear an irritated voice bark commands.)

“What the HELL?! That wasn’t your cue, dummy!”

(The crew members—average shmoes who make a diet on burritos—promptly part as a shorter man stomps onto the stage in a huff. He’s short, corpulent, fake-tanned, and greasy. He couldn’t be anybody other than the director. The LVW talent rep appears to recognize him, by the way his jaw drops.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
TOMMY SALAMI?!

Tommy Salami
That’s “THE MEAT” to you, kid! Are you trying to screw up this film?

Iggy Dorkjanker
…film?

Tommy Salami
Come on, kid, I ain’t got time for this! The star of the show can’t wait any longer!

Now get back behind the door and don’t come out until you’re supposed to!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uhm… okay…

(Reluctantly, Iggy takes a step back through the doorway, before critically acclaimed porn director Tommy “The Meat” Salami forcibly slams the door on him. Salami wipes a glaze of sweat from his forehead before turning back to the crew.)

Tommy Salami
Alright, again… from the top.

(The crew get to work doing there random studio duties. Salami comes off the stage and points off camera.)

Tommy Salami
Pixie… you ready?

(The camera cuts over to a shapely young brunette in a silk red and black robe coming out of her chair and onto the stage.)

Pixie
Yeah, sure.

Tommy Salami
Then let’s get this rollin’!

Give me LIGHTS! Give me CAMERA!

Okay… ACTION!

VALHALLA PRODUCTION COMPANY​

Presents​

(It’s another hot night in the desert, and Las Vegas is on fire. Alone in her high-rise hotel room, Pixie is feeling a little hot herself. Leaning against the bed, she sighs.)

Pixie
Ho hum… another boring night in the City of Sin. Once again, I’m up here… ALONE… while my loser husband is downstairs losing half his savings on the craps table.

I hoped when I came to Las Vegas, I’d leave with something I’d NEVER forget…

(A wry smile crosses her face.)

Pixie
Maybe I’d even be fortunate to cross paths with HIM… the famous pornstar Viking that ventures the streets of this city looking for women to f*ck like a jackhammer!

OLVIR ARSVINNAR​

In​

(With a pouting grunt, Pixie’s trip up in the clouds makes a hard landing back into the land of reality.)

Pixie
But no, instead, I’m stuck here again. This is turning out to be the worst honeymoon EVER!

What I wouldn’t do for a good lay right about now…

(She pauses for a beat, glancing oddly at the door.)

Pixie
I said, “What I wouldn’t do for a good lay right about now!”

Tommy Salami
That’s your cue, stupid!

Iggy Dorkjanker
OH!

(The door suddenly comes swinging open as a short, pimple-faced basement dweller wanders into the room, looking around nervously and occasionally glancing at the camera.)

"WHAT HAPPENS IN VALHALLA… STAYS IN VALHALLA"​

​

Pixie
Oh, honey! You’re back from the casino!

(Pixie’s “husband” suddenly catches sight of her as she reclines herself upon the bed, seductively running a finger down the edge of her robe. The color seems to drain completely from his face.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
H-H-H-H-HHH…

Pixie
After all that gambling, you must be EXHAUSTED! Why don’t you come lay with me here on the bed?

Iggy Dorkjanker
H-H-H-H-HHH…

(Rather than moving right away, the “husband” is frozen in place as his eyes scan the woman on the bed from head to toe. She rolls her eyes, now clearly annoyed.)

Pixie
Honey, get your ass over here and lay with me on the bed.

(With jerky, robotic movements, he stammers over to the bed and takes a seat. Pixie sits up and scoots closer to him. He genuinely looks like this is the first time he’s ever so much as shared breathing space with a woman, much less sat on a bed next to one.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
U-uhm… h-h-hi, dear! I’m, uh… f-f-feeling so, uh… aroused right n-now…

(Pixie glances off-camera, arching an eyebrow. Obviously, that’s not a line from the script she recalls. She decides instead to just roll with it. It’s porn, people… we’re not watching it for the acting ability.)

Pixie
Oh, honey… I’m so hot and wet right now… I just want you to take me…

Iggy Dorkjanker
U-uhm… t-t-t-take you where?

(She’s now noticeably losing her patience, but continues to be as forward as she can. Sitting up and arching her back, Pixie pulls away at the robe slightly, revealing the bountiful mammaries tucked within a tiny bra beneath. The “husband’s” eyes nearly pop out of his head.)

Pixie
Oh honey, stop TEASING me! You’re getting me so excited my nipples are getting hard! Here, have a look for yourself!

Iggy Dorkjanker
UH… UHHH… OKAY.

(His hands trembling uncontrollably, he reaches out to take ahold of her ripened bosoms…)

*BOOM!!*

(Without warning, the wall EXPLODES into a cloud of dust and plaster. A horned shadow suddenly falls upon the “husband’s” stunned face.)

“HA HA HA HA!!”

(Five TREMENDOUS fingers shoot forward like the strike of a cobra, latching around his neck and taking a firm grip. With a startled YELP, he’s yanked two feet off the ground and brought face to face with a MADLY GRINNING VIKING!)

Olvir Arsvinnar
STAND ASIDE, Puny One! The “Butt-Dominator” OLVIR ARSVINNAR, the Father of A THOUSAND BASTARDS, has come to FULFILL THE DESIRES of this bountiful maiden!

Iggy Dorkjanker
ULP!!

Olvir Arsvinnar
Why don’t you take a stroll down the strip OUTSIDE, while I take a stroll down hers DOWN UNDER?? HA HA HA HA!!

(The boisterous, golden-bearded titan in wolfskin breeches douses the poor man in a layer of saliva as his laughter booms in his face at point blank range with volume that could deafen, or perhaps kill, small children. In a seemingly effortless act, the Norseman hoists the smaller man over his shoulders and spins him around like a cyclone, sending high-pitched screams through the air. From the bed, Pixie looks on in astonishment…)

(Then all at once, Olvir RELEASES his projectile… violently HURLING him through the window and straight into the matte background! Outside, a body hits the floor, followed by a pained moan… but in the hotel room, the Viking’s bold blue eyes find the woman reclined before him.)

Pixie
OH, GREAT OLVIR!! Thank the GODS you’ve come!

Olvir Arsvinnar
HA HA HA HA!! NEVER shall a woman be left UNSATISIFIED as long as the GREAT OLVIR has a say in it! NOW, supple wench… prepare your NOBLE LOINS as my THROBBING GREATNESS enters your WOMANHOOD, and the DOMINATION shall commence!

(A single SWIPE OF HIS ARM is all it takes, and the robe is TORN off her body, revealing the scanty undergarments beneath! She YELPS with delight as the muscle-bound Viking FLIPS her over and bends her over the bed. He’s about to jump right in, when…)

“CUT!!”

(The exclamation causes Olvir to freeze in place with an absolutely INSULTED expression.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Who DARES interrupt the GREAT OLVIR in the act of DOMINATION!? Such a transgression must be paid in DECAPITATION!!

Tommy Salami
Sorry, Olvir… there’s some idiot in the shot ruining all the footage.

(Olvir glances over to the window…)

(…peeking inside, even with busted glasses ajar on his bruised, pimply face, is Iggy Dorkjanker. Based on the expression on his face, we can be happy we’re not seeing the lower part of his body.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! The Great Olvir is VEXED by these incessant interruptions!

…D’OH, NOW I HAVE A HEADACHE!!

(Salami walks back onto the set, shaking his head.)

Tommy Salami
I’m sorry about the problems, Olvir… really. You want to take it again from the top?

Olvir Arsvinnar
NAY, Meat Man! A RESPITE is in order! If anybody needs the Great Olvir, he shall be in his trailer!

(In a huff, Olvir walks off the stage, nabbing Pixie over his shoulder as he marches off. Seeing his client walking away, Iggy Dorkjanker quickly zips up his fly and hurries after him.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Uh, excuse me… Mr. Arsvinnar?

(Olvir SPINS AROUND…)

Olvir Arsvinnar
THE GREAT OLVIR, Puny One!

(The force of his voice is enough to knock Iggy on the ground. The horny Viking continues on his way, while Iggy quickly scrambles back to his feet and follows once again.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Sorry to bother you, sir! I’m a HUGE fan of your work!

Olvir Arsvinnar
HMPH!! Perhaps it would be in your interest, FOOLISH ONE, to admire the Great Olvir’s PERFECTION on DVD, instead of sneaking in the LAIR of the Butt-Dominator!

(Olvir pops through the exit door with Iggy close on his heels, and back out onto the lot. They come upon the Norseman’s “trailer”… which, more accurately, is a full-sized DRAGON SHIP parked right outside. Olvir starts up the plank leading to the deck, still trying his best to ignore the man following close behind.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
There are THINGS here that meager ones such as yourself have no eyes for! Things you could NEVER fathom with your feeble mind!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, but wait… I’m not really a tourist. You see, I’m with Las Vegas Wrestling.

(Olvir stops in place.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
LAS VEGAS WRESTLING, you say?

(He sets the woman down and gives her a firm SLAP on the ass.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
BELOW, wench! Spare my GREATNESS five minutes, and the DOMINATION of your noble hind shall begin!

Pixie
Oh, I can’t WAIT!

(Pixie hurries off as Olvir crosses his broad arms over his chest and turns his attention to the frail man who is clearly a whole foot shorter than himself.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Yes, LAS VEGAS WRESTLING… the gladiatorial circus that served as the BIRTH of the professional wrestling greatness that is OLVIR! I must tell you, weakling, of the DELIGHT and RAPTURE that overcame me when I learned of its return! FINALLY, the GREAT OLVIR has returned to his new home, the CITY OF SIN, where he will continue to pursue his destiny of being LORD AND MASTER of this delicate yewel of the desert!

But now, even in my INFINITE WISDOM, I come to wonder WHY such a prestigious brotherhood would send one so TINY and INSECT-LIKE as yourself to be in my NOBLE PRESENCE! Tell me now, fool… WHY have you sought out the Great Olvir?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, I’m your newly assigned talent representative! Pleased to meet ya!

Olvir Arsvinnar
YOU?! Impossible!! What has become of Erik the Black?!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, Erik? He’s the one that got me the job! He said with his current pot addiction, he’d have trouble keeping up with you.

Olvir Arsvinnar
BAH!! This DISPLEASES the Great Olvir very much! Why could the Gods of Las Vegas be so HONORABLE as to give my greatness a MIGHTY WARRIOR, the likes of which I could relate to! Instead, I’m given someone so SMALL and BEARDLESS!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Well, uh… I’m sorry if I don’t quite measure up to your expectations. But I’m afraid we’re stuck together.

(Iggy extends his hand, which Olvir looks at incredulously.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
The name is Iggy Dorkjanker! Pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Great Olvir!

(The Viking glances reluctantly at the open hand before him, before finally giving in and taking it in his massive grasp.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
Well met then, “Iggy Dork-Yanker.”

Iggy Dorkjanker
Ah, it’s Dorkjanker—

(Iggy’s face shows a suddenly expression of PAIN as the Norseman squeezes his hand harder. Something can be heard popping. The Viking narrows his eyes and gets inches away from his face.)

Olvir Arsvinnar
DORK-YANKER!!

(He releases the handshake, leaving Iggy to rub his aching hand.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Okay… whatever you say, Great Olvir…

So where do we go from here? I’m still kinda new to this “talent rep” thing.

Olvir Arsvinnar
You are ignorant of your own DUTIES?! HMPH!!

Very well, Iggy the Dork-Yanker! I shall give you your first assignment! As you well know, the Great Olvir awaits his first challenge since making his MUCH ANTICIPATED RETURN to Las Vegas Wrestling!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Oh, that’s right! Richard Andrews is his name. I suppose you want me to find some info on your opponent, so you know what you’re up against?

Olvir Arsvinnar
NAY, FOOL!! The Great Olvir needs NO KNOWLEDGE of his foolish foes in order to SMITE them! There is not a FORCE UPON THE EARTH that can WITHSTAND my UNYIELDING MIGHT, and this Richard of the Anders is no different!

Iggy Dorkjanker
Then what will you have me do, Great Olvir?

Olvir Arsvinnar
FETCH THE GREAT OLVIR A VITAMIN WATER!!

(His voice BOOMS with such resonance that it again knocks Iggy over, this time causing him to roll a few times down the plank and hit the asphalt hard. Regardless, he nods up to his client standing on the deck of the dragonship.)

Iggy Dorkjanker
Right-O, Olvir! One Vitamin Water coming up!

Olvir Arsvinnar
BE OFF, meager Ignatius! There is a BOUNTIFUL MAIDEN below that requires my IMMEDIATE ATTENTION!! As long as her TENDER HIND patiently waits without my GREATNESS, she grows EVER ANXIOUS of my ROCK-HARD GRIP to take her in my arms!!

And my rock-hard D*CK to take her ARSE VIRGINITY!! HA HA HA HA!!

(The Great Olvir bounds away, disappearing through the doors leading below deck. His new talent representative, Iggy Dorkjanker, pulls himself to his feet and dusts himself off, wandering away to fulfill his task. On this, we go to black.)

 

[dakotainferno]

The Original Hand of Destiny

(Out of Character: Sorry so brief!)

Bowling. ... ... I've got to ask, Jack, and I ask as respectfully as is possible.

What are you doing in this sport? What are you doing, booked to wrestle a pro... Why aren't you, pardon the painfully easy pun, polishing your ball somewhere? It's clear to me in your every word, deed and action... That your passion lies not within the squared circle... But on the lanes.

I'll give you all the credit in the world, Hudgins. The sport, the art, of bowling requires the mind of a mathematician and the finesse of a great, classical painter. But... You and I, I'm sorry to break it to you, aren't booked in a Head to Head Bowlathon - as much fun as that sounds - we're stepping into a wrestling ring. And the sport, the ART, of wrestling requires tools much different than that of bowling.

Those pins you knock down... The pawns at your mercy... They offer zero resistance. They don't dodge your assault and they have neither the will or ability to push back.

You can count on some resistance when we square off, Jack. Resistance to spare.

I'm not looking to be the focus of your next decades-long sports-obsession like our friend, Walter Ray, but unfortunately I have to see to it that history repeats itself. That Jack Hudgins brushes against greatness in his calling-of-the-week and chokes in dramatic fashion. I have to be the Hand of Destiny once again. Heh.

Been a while.

Listen, Jack. You're going to think this is personal. People who exhibit symptoms of Paranoid Schitzophrenic Disorder usually do. But this isn't only business... It's the way it has to be.

And I'll see you there.

 

[BarryClarkJr]

300

(THE V/O CHANTS BEGIN..........)

WALTER RAY!

WALTER RAY!

WALTER RAY!

WALTER RAY!

(slow motion)

WWWWAAAALLLLLTTTEERRRRRRR........

(FADEOUT)

(Camera opens up to walking into a bowling alley with the double doors sliding as he makes his entrance. Totally decked out in his bowling gear, rolling bag and all. Jack 7-10 Hudgins approaches the counter to simply grab a lane to free throw)

COUNTER LADY: Yes sir, how can I help you?

SEVEN TEN: Ahhh yes. I would love a lane.

COUNTER LADY: Sure..........LANE 28, do you need shoes?

(Hudgins grips his one bag up to his chest and kisses it)

SEVEN TEN: Oh no, that is not needed here.

COUNTER LADY: Well enjoy sir.

SEVEN TEN: Hold up! How much are games today?

COUNTER LADY: Games are $4.25 a piece sir.

SEVEN TEN: WHAT?! Four and a quarter? Your kidding me?

(Jack Hudgins makes kisses with his mouth towards the back counter lady, picks up his bag and walks out. Scene takes us to the side of the Alley Way as he is placing his bowling glove over his hand)

SEVEN TEN: Four and a quarter a game? They have no idea who I am. They forget I'm a professional bowler. In order for me to make that FOUR DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE CENTS I must show up at LVW BIG RISK......

(SIGHS)

....BIG REWARD.

I have an open challenge to Walter Ray Williams and his pesky career.

(SHOUTS)

F*CK! SH*T! BALLS! AS*HOLE!

Nate Dakota, I want you! A simple FOUR DOLLARS AND TWENTY FIVE CENTS! I'll even let you be half the man and use two fingers instead of using all three.

(Hudgins running back and fourth extending his hand as if he is practicing for his next shot. He abruptly stops with the camera to his back)

WAIT! NO! I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO USE TWO FINGER BOWLING! NOOOOO! YOU ARE A CHEATER! CHEATER I TELL YOU! YOU WILL USE ALL THREE FINGERS.

Walter Ray Williams will pay.....and so will Nate Dakota

Have you ever stepped foot into the squared circle lanes? Me neither, but I'm sure it AIN'T pretty. I pray to god you paid all your late fees.

GRAB YOUR BEST BALL KID.........SEVEN TEN COMING 'ATCHA.......

(FADEOUT)

 

[The Great Eye]

LVW High Stakes Battle Royal Rp Thread

This is a Royal Rumble style Battle Royal, winner will become LVW Champion.

30 characters can enter, if we don't get 30, I'll just bust out jobbers to cover the extra spots.

3 RP max for any character, if you use 2 or more characters in a promo, that counts towards the limit for all of them.

Anyone can enter, so long as their character isn't in another league on FW.com.

Rp Deadline is April 11th Midnight PDT.

Any angles/segments should be sent in by then as well.

Already in the High Stakes Battle Royal and having drawn numbers are

#2 Richard Andrews

#6 Aaron "A-Rod" Roddick

#10 Jack "7-10" Hudgins

#15 J1D

#16 Super Spade

#20 Olvir Arsvinnar

#25 "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan

#27 Nate Dakota

Having not drawn numbers but scheduled to appear

"Broadway" Johnny Doll

Bill Bellmoth

The Captain

The Spaniard

Good Luck