John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
Re: Week 2 - El Gordo Grande v. Bill Bellmoth
^^^Bump bump bump bump it up!!!^^^^^
^^^Bump bump bump bump it up!!!^^^^^
RP Museum (Old RP)
- Thread starter Steve
- Start date
Re: Week 2 - Hans Nowak/Carmine Esposito v. Mitch Grey/The Living Dead
(FADEIN to “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito at the blackjack table inside the Tropicana. Carmine has three $100 chips he is flipping through his fingers as his hand of blackjack is being dealt.)
DEALER: Dealer showing 9, player is showing 14.
CARMINE: Hit me.
(The dealer flips a new card over for Carmine.)
DEALER: 8…player busts.
CARMINE: Damnit! That’s six hands in a row! You f’n scassacazzo! Ugh! I’m walkin’!
(Gets up from the table and hurls one final comment to the dealer.)
CARMINE: You f’n sticchio! I can’t believe I lost this much f’n money in a troiaio like this!
(Carmine walks away from the table and is stop by the Pit Boss.)
PIT BOSS: Excuse me, sir. It looks like you are upset and I’d like to give you this comp.
(Carmine looks at the slip of paper.)
CARMINE: This entitles me to a free buffet? I just lost $700 in this dump and you give me a coupon for a buffet? Get the F(BLEEP) OUTTA HERE!
PIT BOSS: Sir, there is no need for that. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.
CARMINE: I was already heading out, jackass! I wipe my ass with your comp.
(Carmine takes the slip of paper and wipes his ass with it. Crumpling it up on the floor. He steals a drink from a player at the roulette wheel, slams it down, and walks outside the casino.)
(Outside the Tropicana, Jimmy Two Times is talking to the valet.)
TWO TIMES: Look here you little prick. I know I had a f(BLEEP)in’ Frank Sinatra Christmas CD in my f(BLEEP)in’ CD player – CD player. You bring me my car and it’s tuned in to some f(BLEEP)in’ hip-hop station – hip-hop station? My mirrors are all f(BLEEP)ed up and you got my seat leaned all the way back – all the way back. Do I look like I’m 7 feet tall, motha’ f(BLEEP)er – motha’ f(BLEEP)er?
(Valet looks down at Two Times and nods his head ‘no’.)
TWO TIMES: That’s what I f(BLEEP)in’ thought – f(BLEEP)in thought! Now fix my s(BLEEP) back the way it was – way it was and hurry the f(BLEEP) up – the f(BLEEP) up. Do you know who the f(BLEEP) I am – I am?
(The valet fixes everything back in its original place and finishes just as Carmine Esposito exits the casino.)
CARMINE: Hey Jimmy. They got me for seven.
TWO TIMES: Seven large – seven large?
CARMINE: No…did you think I would get up that big and lose it all? Come on Jimmy, I am a pro. I know when to walk away.
TWO TIMES: Carmine, I think I know better than that – better than that. You seem to forget how much you lost to me in the Dolphins-Chargers last weekend – last weekend.
CARMINE: What the hell was that all about? I talked to Johnny back East and he told me that it was money in the bag. I thought our guys sent some hookers to Chris Chambers’ hotel room the night before. He had two touchdowns…TWO! AH MAMA MIA! How does that happen? How?
TWO TIMES: It’s called crack, Carmine – Carmine. I don’t care what those NFL pricks say, alls them players have whizzanators – whizzanators. (Phone rings.) Hold on kid – kid. I gotta take this call – this call.
(Jimmy speaks to someone on his cell phone and hangs up after a few seconds.)
TWO TIMES: It was those guys from the front office – front office. You somehow impressed them because this week you are in the main event – main event.
CARMINE: Jimmy, you were right. You told me I would be headlining Vegas just like Ol’ Blue Eyes. Here I am, not even here a month, and I am at the top of LVW.
(Smiles and looks up at the sky. Then remembers what happened in his last match.)
CARMINE: Hey! What happened in that match last week with El Gordo Grande? What were you thinking? You went to club him with the chair and smacked me in the coglione.
TWO TIMES: Carmine, it was a simple mistake – simple mistake. I told you I would make it up to you and it’s this week – this week.
CARMINE: So who do I fight? Is it a rematch with El Gordo Grande? I know I can take him.
TWO TIMES: Nope, get this – get this. Mitch Grey and the Living Dead versus “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito and Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak.
CARMINE: Wait a minute, did you just say Mitch Grey? That son of a finocchio owes me money. I loaned him a dollar for the snack machine and the guy stiffed me! He’s got some piscione if he thinks I am gonna let him get away with that. I loan one guy a dollar and let them stiff me…then everyone I loan a dollar to will stiff me. It’s gotta stop and I have to let the wrestlers of LVW know that nobody…but nobody takes advantage of “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito! Ain’t that right, Jimmy?
TWO TIMES: That’s right – that’s right.
CARMINE: And the Living Dead? He’s gonna be called the Dead Dead after our match this week. I’m gonna do to you what the Gambino’s did to Hoffa. My people have ways of erasing problems that won’t seem to go away.
TWO TIMES: (Laughs.) You remember the story about Tommy Francello and the meat grinder – meat grinder. (Laughs.)
CARMINE: A timeless classic. My pops would tell that story to me every night before I went to bed.
TWO TIMES: What do you know about Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak?
CARMINE: I don’t know much except he’s a monster and as long as he is on my team…there is no way we can lose. I hate Americans too…remember, I’m Italian! AY!
(Does some Italian gestures with his hands.)
CARMINE: And Nowak…if you know what’s good for you…you’ll do exactly as me and Jimmy me tell you. Got it, leccaculo? This international alliance we got can do big things here in LVW. You better keep that in mind this week, because it might help you out later down the line. Capiche?
TWO TIMES: Alright Carmine, stop rambling – rambling. Get in the f(BLEEP)in’ car and let’s head over to Boardwalk - Boardwalk. I gotta pick-up over there - over there.
CARMINE: Whatever you say, Carmine.
(Jimmy and Carmine get in the car and drive off as the sun begins to set.)
(FADE TO BLACK)
(FADEIN to “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito at the blackjack table inside the Tropicana. Carmine has three $100 chips he is flipping through his fingers as his hand of blackjack is being dealt.)
DEALER: Dealer showing 9, player is showing 14.
CARMINE: Hit me.
(The dealer flips a new card over for Carmine.)
DEALER: 8…player busts.
CARMINE: Damnit! That’s six hands in a row! You f’n scassacazzo! Ugh! I’m walkin’!
(Gets up from the table and hurls one final comment to the dealer.)
CARMINE: You f’n sticchio! I can’t believe I lost this much f’n money in a troiaio like this!
(Carmine walks away from the table and is stop by the Pit Boss.)
PIT BOSS: Excuse me, sir. It looks like you are upset and I’d like to give you this comp.
(Carmine looks at the slip of paper.)
CARMINE: This entitles me to a free buffet? I just lost $700 in this dump and you give me a coupon for a buffet? Get the F(BLEEP) OUTTA HERE!
PIT BOSS: Sir, there is no need for that. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.
CARMINE: I was already heading out, jackass! I wipe my ass with your comp.
(Carmine takes the slip of paper and wipes his ass with it. Crumpling it up on the floor. He steals a drink from a player at the roulette wheel, slams it down, and walks outside the casino.)
(Outside the Tropicana, Jimmy Two Times is talking to the valet.)
TWO TIMES: Look here you little prick. I know I had a f(BLEEP)in’ Frank Sinatra Christmas CD in my f(BLEEP)in’ CD player – CD player. You bring me my car and it’s tuned in to some f(BLEEP)in’ hip-hop station – hip-hop station? My mirrors are all f(BLEEP)ed up and you got my seat leaned all the way back – all the way back. Do I look like I’m 7 feet tall, motha’ f(BLEEP)er – motha’ f(BLEEP)er?
(Valet looks down at Two Times and nods his head ‘no’.)
TWO TIMES: That’s what I f(BLEEP)in’ thought – f(BLEEP)in thought! Now fix my s(BLEEP) back the way it was – way it was and hurry the f(BLEEP) up – the f(BLEEP) up. Do you know who the f(BLEEP) I am – I am?
(The valet fixes everything back in its original place and finishes just as Carmine Esposito exits the casino.)
CARMINE: Hey Jimmy. They got me for seven.
TWO TIMES: Seven large – seven large?
CARMINE: No…did you think I would get up that big and lose it all? Come on Jimmy, I am a pro. I know when to walk away.
TWO TIMES: Carmine, I think I know better than that – better than that. You seem to forget how much you lost to me in the Dolphins-Chargers last weekend – last weekend.
CARMINE: What the hell was that all about? I talked to Johnny back East and he told me that it was money in the bag. I thought our guys sent some hookers to Chris Chambers’ hotel room the night before. He had two touchdowns…TWO! AH MAMA MIA! How does that happen? How?
TWO TIMES: It’s called crack, Carmine – Carmine. I don’t care what those NFL pricks say, alls them players have whizzanators – whizzanators. (Phone rings.) Hold on kid – kid. I gotta take this call – this call.
(Jimmy speaks to someone on his cell phone and hangs up after a few seconds.)
TWO TIMES: It was those guys from the front office – front office. You somehow impressed them because this week you are in the main event – main event.
CARMINE: Jimmy, you were right. You told me I would be headlining Vegas just like Ol’ Blue Eyes. Here I am, not even here a month, and I am at the top of LVW.
(Smiles and looks up at the sky. Then remembers what happened in his last match.)
CARMINE: Hey! What happened in that match last week with El Gordo Grande? What were you thinking? You went to club him with the chair and smacked me in the coglione.
TWO TIMES: Carmine, it was a simple mistake – simple mistake. I told you I would make it up to you and it’s this week – this week.
CARMINE: So who do I fight? Is it a rematch with El Gordo Grande? I know I can take him.
TWO TIMES: Nope, get this – get this. Mitch Grey and the Living Dead versus “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito and Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak.
CARMINE: Wait a minute, did you just say Mitch Grey? That son of a finocchio owes me money. I loaned him a dollar for the snack machine and the guy stiffed me! He’s got some piscione if he thinks I am gonna let him get away with that. I loan one guy a dollar and let them stiff me…then everyone I loan a dollar to will stiff me. It’s gotta stop and I have to let the wrestlers of LVW know that nobody…but nobody takes advantage of “The Inferno” Carmine Esposito! Ain’t that right, Jimmy?
TWO TIMES: That’s right – that’s right.
CARMINE: And the Living Dead? He’s gonna be called the Dead Dead after our match this week. I’m gonna do to you what the Gambino’s did to Hoffa. My people have ways of erasing problems that won’t seem to go away.
TWO TIMES: (Laughs.) You remember the story about Tommy Francello and the meat grinder – meat grinder. (Laughs.)
CARMINE: A timeless classic. My pops would tell that story to me every night before I went to bed.
TWO TIMES: What do you know about Hans Nowak – Hans Nowak?
CARMINE: I don’t know much except he’s a monster and as long as he is on my team…there is no way we can lose. I hate Americans too…remember, I’m Italian! AY!
(Does some Italian gestures with his hands.)
CARMINE: And Nowak…if you know what’s good for you…you’ll do exactly as me and Jimmy me tell you. Got it, leccaculo? This international alliance we got can do big things here in LVW. You better keep that in mind this week, because it might help you out later down the line. Capiche?
TWO TIMES: Alright Carmine, stop rambling – rambling. Get in the f(BLEEP)in’ car and let’s head over to Boardwalk - Boardwalk. I gotta pick-up over there - over there.
CARMINE: Whatever you say, Carmine.
(Jimmy and Carmine get in the car and drive off as the sun begins to set.)
(FADE TO BLACK)
Steve
the EX-QUEEN of FW~!
Re: Week 2 - Hans Nowak/Carmine Esposito v. Mitch Grey/The Living Dead
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans in front of an LVW backdrop.)
MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my innocent reaming Beast…he **** in this hellhole and it actually smell better. That’s what Hans do. He pull pant down, and spread joy of his inner being. Many men share knowledge through books and pointless TV trivia, but my Hans, my bubbly boy one day to make a bridal gown blush…he believe in organic giving. If you pick up Hans crap and smell (Miss Ann takes a deep breath) you know you’re not as good as man. And Mitch Grey, Living dead you are not as good of man.
HANS: (flexes) Ruahaahahahahahahahahahaha.
MISS ANN: If you’re home watching on your small anal log TV set you can not understand what Big Dicked Ox is saying, but I, Miss Ann a real woman, NOT one of you Americans with a (censor) as big as a purse. I translate for you. Hans say, wait. Hans I missed last part?
HANS: (Annoyed) Ruahahahahahahahahahah. Grr.
MISS ANN: Yes. Yes it all comes to me now. Hans say, “He beat American ass and make up for shame and disgrace LVW throw upon him last week. Match not over. Match never over until Hans “More Girth Than You’re Worth” Nowak say its over. Living Dead just some American punk who sniffed glue as a child and believe Ozzie really say Suicide serious solution. Dead, injustice suffered last week will be corrected. Right Hans?
HANS: (emphatic) Ruaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Grr. Grr.
MISS ANN: Okay. Hans not write book yet, but he tell story in ring. Story already told. Hans winner. Look at these massive arms (Hans flexes) Look at those round…
(FEED LOST FOR TEN SECONDS.)
(FEED RETURNS; MISS ANN SWEATING)
MISS ANN: My. (clears her throat) Carmine Esposito. Look around. You not in Penny Marshall bosom any more. On this show you do as Miss Ann and Hans say. Or you die. Yes, you die. And neither the Big Dicked Ox, or myself feel remorse. Hans?
HANS: HANS ATTACK!
(Hans leaps at the camera man)
(FTB)
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans in front of an LVW backdrop.)
MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my innocent reaming Beast…he **** in this hellhole and it actually smell better. That’s what Hans do. He pull pant down, and spread joy of his inner being. Many men share knowledge through books and pointless TV trivia, but my Hans, my bubbly boy one day to make a bridal gown blush…he believe in organic giving. If you pick up Hans crap and smell (Miss Ann takes a deep breath) you know you’re not as good as man. And Mitch Grey, Living dead you are not as good of man.
HANS: (flexes) Ruahaahahahahahahahahahaha.
MISS ANN: If you’re home watching on your small anal log TV set you can not understand what Big Dicked Ox is saying, but I, Miss Ann a real woman, NOT one of you Americans with a (censor) as big as a purse. I translate for you. Hans say, wait. Hans I missed last part?
HANS: (Annoyed) Ruahahahahahahahahahah. Grr.
MISS ANN: Yes. Yes it all comes to me now. Hans say, “He beat American ass and make up for shame and disgrace LVW throw upon him last week. Match not over. Match never over until Hans “More Girth Than You’re Worth” Nowak say its over. Living Dead just some American punk who sniffed glue as a child and believe Ozzie really say Suicide serious solution. Dead, injustice suffered last week will be corrected. Right Hans?
HANS: (emphatic) Ruaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Grr. Grr.
MISS ANN: Okay. Hans not write book yet, but he tell story in ring. Story already told. Hans winner. Look at these massive arms (Hans flexes) Look at those round…
(FEED LOST FOR TEN SECONDS.)
(FEED RETURNS; MISS ANN SWEATING)
MISS ANN: My. (clears her throat) Carmine Esposito. Look around. You not in Penny Marshall bosom any more. On this show you do as Miss Ann and Hans say. Or you die. Yes, you die. And neither the Big Dicked Ox, or myself feel remorse. Hans?
HANS: HANS ATTACK!
(Hans leaps at the camera man)
(FTB)
TH
Active member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2004
- Messages
- 2,953
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 42
- Location
- Philadelphia
- Website
- wallsofjerichoholic.blogspot.com
Re: Week 2 - The Web Browser v. "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan
Fade into "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan on a computer, surfing the World Wide Web. He's looking at some escort sites, to try and score him some premium, first-class ass after the show on KCLV Ch. 2.
JD: Yeehaw, this here Internet is the bestest dang invention since the bullrope or bar-beeee-cue sauce on ribs. I gots all kinds of Orientals and wetbacks and even some of them colored wimmens. Yee-haw, I can find them all, 'cept Brazilian chicks.
Jimmy sighs
JD: What I wouldn't do to get my paws on some sweet Brazilian poontang.
Suddenly, Jimmy's web surfing is interrupted by a computerized voice.
Computer: You've got mail.
JD: Yeee haw! I got one of them fancy eeeee-lectronic mails!
Jimmy clicks on the mailbox and opens the new e-mail from the LVW webmaster, who sends everyone promotional footage in mpeg format.
JD: Well I'll be a varmint's daddy. Maybe this is that Web Browser fellow telling me where I can finds that sweet Brazilian poontang!
Jimmy opens the attachment. It details how badly Web Browser hates Jimmy Donovan and what he's done to the Internet and how he's not going show Jimmy where to get sweet Brazilian poontang or even pictures and movies of guys nailing sweet Brazilian poontang. Jimmy's not a very happy camper right now. A look of hate grows on his face.
JD: That son of a *****! Oh man, and I was all nice and stuff. I even asked all polite.
Dagnabbit, I guess I'm gonna have to whip his ass all over the Strip until he tells me where I can gets me some sweet Brazilian poontang.
'Til then, I guess I gotsta keep lookin' on Google.
Jimmy sighs, as the camera fades to the LVW logo.
Fade into "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan on a computer, surfing the World Wide Web. He's looking at some escort sites, to try and score him some premium, first-class ass after the show on KCLV Ch. 2.
JD: Yeehaw, this here Internet is the bestest dang invention since the bullrope or bar-beeee-cue sauce on ribs. I gots all kinds of Orientals and wetbacks and even some of them colored wimmens. Yee-haw, I can find them all, 'cept Brazilian chicks.
Jimmy sighs
JD: What I wouldn't do to get my paws on some sweet Brazilian poontang.
Suddenly, Jimmy's web surfing is interrupted by a computerized voice.
Computer: You've got mail.
JD: Yeee haw! I got one of them fancy eeeee-lectronic mails!
Jimmy clicks on the mailbox and opens the new e-mail from the LVW webmaster, who sends everyone promotional footage in mpeg format.
JD: Well I'll be a varmint's daddy. Maybe this is that Web Browser fellow telling me where I can finds that sweet Brazilian poontang!
Jimmy opens the attachment. It details how badly Web Browser hates Jimmy Donovan and what he's done to the Internet and how he's not going show Jimmy where to get sweet Brazilian poontang or even pictures and movies of guys nailing sweet Brazilian poontang. Jimmy's not a very happy camper right now. A look of hate grows on his face.
JD: That son of a *****! Oh man, and I was all nice and stuff. I even asked all polite.
Dagnabbit, I guess I'm gonna have to whip his ass all over the Strip until he tells me where I can gets me some sweet Brazilian poontang.
'Til then, I guess I gotsta keep lookin' on Google.
Jimmy sighs, as the camera fades to the LVW logo.
NotorisSTD
League Member
Something
(ORPP: Sorry I spaced on this one. *Really* busy week. It killed me. But damnit, I have risen from the grave, and returned to write a last minute FW post that will annoy everyone involved.)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, mop of greasy hair obscuring his face, sloppily applied black facepaint design showing through. Standing with arms folded across a faded Happy Noodle Boy T-shirt…LVW logo backdrop, cuz Mitch don’t go to no casinos…)
“the last goth monster”
Well. You’ve all gone and made absolute douchebags out of yourselves. And now I’m supposed to say something about that. Spiffy.
Ummmm…..Uh…Okay, I’ve got one Mafioso guy doing the buddy comedy thing with his manager sidekick guy, and a big dumb non-English speaking guy. What the f(bleep)k am I supposed to be working with here?
Maybe you’re both really great athletes, maybe not, I don’t know. I just don’t find any of this particularly amusing. The only person involved with this match who’s less interested in you two than me is my tag team partner. That actually doesn’t bode well for us.
In the meantime, I don’t recall owing you a dollar Carmine. I sat through your promo segment though. That’s five minutes you can never give back to me. I’d say that squares us.
I’m not brash enough to assume you’re not really in the mob, but if so, still not impressed. You could send your buddies to kill me. So could the assholes in the trailer park down the street from my apartment. So could a lot of high school kids. But somehow, they’re afraid of me instead. It’s a funny world like that sometimes. Funnier than you two schlocky third wave Little Guido guys.
You’re gonna make Living Dead Dead Dead? (shakes his head) Maybe you aughta give yourselves a good hearty punch in the face for that one.
S’far as Hans Nowak and Miss Ann are concerned, I really don’t care what country are from. I don’t care if you care what country I’m from, and I don’t care how big your dick is.
Remember, I’m the monster on this show. I compensate for my lack of a good catchphrase, comic sidekick, or satirical social statement, with my ability to be large and beat people up.
So don’t f(bleep)k with me.
(ORPP: Sorry I spaced on this one. *Really* busy week. It killed me. But damnit, I have risen from the grave, and returned to write a last minute FW post that will annoy everyone involved.)
(CUTTO: Mitch Grey, mop of greasy hair obscuring his face, sloppily applied black facepaint design showing through. Standing with arms folded across a faded Happy Noodle Boy T-shirt…LVW logo backdrop, cuz Mitch don’t go to no casinos…)
“the last goth monster”
Well. You’ve all gone and made absolute douchebags out of yourselves. And now I’m supposed to say something about that. Spiffy.
Ummmm…..Uh…Okay, I’ve got one Mafioso guy doing the buddy comedy thing with his manager sidekick guy, and a big dumb non-English speaking guy. What the f(bleep)k am I supposed to be working with here?
Maybe you’re both really great athletes, maybe not, I don’t know. I just don’t find any of this particularly amusing. The only person involved with this match who’s less interested in you two than me is my tag team partner. That actually doesn’t bode well for us.
In the meantime, I don’t recall owing you a dollar Carmine. I sat through your promo segment though. That’s five minutes you can never give back to me. I’d say that squares us.
I’m not brash enough to assume you’re not really in the mob, but if so, still not impressed. You could send your buddies to kill me. So could the assholes in the trailer park down the street from my apartment. So could a lot of high school kids. But somehow, they’re afraid of me instead. It’s a funny world like that sometimes. Funnier than you two schlocky third wave Little Guido guys.
You’re gonna make Living Dead Dead Dead? (shakes his head) Maybe you aughta give yourselves a good hearty punch in the face for that one.
S’far as Hans Nowak and Miss Ann are concerned, I really don’t care what country are from. I don’t care if you care what country I’m from, and I don’t care how big your dick is.
Remember, I’m the monster on this show. I compensate for my lack of a good catchphrase, comic sidekick, or satirical social statement, with my ability to be large and beat people up.
So don’t f(bleep)k with me.
DizzaHizza
Official Unofficial FW Party Pimp
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - Elvis Aaron Presley v. The Living Dead
Bally's Resort Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, Nevada
ZOOM IN: A man standing with his hands on his hips in the middle of the grand entrance to Bally's. Dressed in a cheaply BeDazzled vintage jumpsuit, he stands still while the camera pans around him: hands on his hips, hair billowing in the late night desert air, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.
Suddenly, he moves!
"HIYA!"
Stretching the jumpsuit to the limits, E.A.P. kicks out at the camera and follows up with a judo chop that misses by a mile. Off balance, and intoxicated, the man falls on his ass. Trying to recover gracefully is out of the question as he is quickly entangled in the flowing cape behind him.
A few bystanders, not knowing what is happening, reach out to help Elvis, but he vehemently denies the help, and even screams out "Watch the hair, lady!" at more than one lady.
Finally back on his feet, he grins and strikes a historic Elvis Presley pose: fingers pointed, hips askew, mouth...sneering.
ELVIS: "Listen up, kiddies, ain't no time like the now for the King to come home to LVW! After all, you can't have anything happen in Las Vegas without me being there.
Many disbelievers will dispute that I am NOT the true Elvis Aaron Presley, but they'd be wrong. See, after I was abducted by aliens in 1977, I spent many years in space, spreading the gift of song and dance and crappy "beach blanket" movies to neighboring galaxies.
In space, time moves by slowly, and hence, I remained un-furrowed and chisled from marble.
Now I have returned, my babies, and will jump and shout, twist and swivel, and dance and strut my way to victory in the EL-VEE-DUBYA!
VIVA LAS VEGAS!
Now, I know that Las Vegas will live on long past me, but one man, oh he's one bad dude too, will not be living much longer! He's the Living Dead, and he gives me the heebee-geebees!
But I'll tie up my blue suede shoes tight, and not even heavy Las Vegas traffic will keep me from this match, because I have a secret weapon to make it to kick off Week Three!
Living Dead, baby, don't be cruel!
HAVE MERCY!!
We're about to put on a show that will blow away the box office receipts from Change of Habit, and, chances are, you'll go over bigger than Mary Tyler Moore!
Now, I got to go open for that hack, Celine Dion down at Caeser's Palace."
Elvis begins to strut down the strip, signing autographs, and singing "You're So Square (And I Don't Care)".
FADE TO BLACK
Bally's Resort Hotel & Casino
Las Vegas, Nevada
ZOOM IN: A man standing with his hands on his hips in the middle of the grand entrance to Bally's. Dressed in a cheaply BeDazzled vintage jumpsuit, he stands still while the camera pans around him: hands on his hips, hair billowing in the late night desert air, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.
Suddenly, he moves!
"HIYA!"
Stretching the jumpsuit to the limits, E.A.P. kicks out at the camera and follows up with a judo chop that misses by a mile. Off balance, and intoxicated, the man falls on his ass. Trying to recover gracefully is out of the question as he is quickly entangled in the flowing cape behind him.
A few bystanders, not knowing what is happening, reach out to help Elvis, but he vehemently denies the help, and even screams out "Watch the hair, lady!" at more than one lady.
Finally back on his feet, he grins and strikes a historic Elvis Presley pose: fingers pointed, hips askew, mouth...sneering.
ELVIS: "Listen up, kiddies, ain't no time like the now for the King to come home to LVW! After all, you can't have anything happen in Las Vegas without me being there.
Many disbelievers will dispute that I am NOT the true Elvis Aaron Presley, but they'd be wrong. See, after I was abducted by aliens in 1977, I spent many years in space, spreading the gift of song and dance and crappy "beach blanket" movies to neighboring galaxies.
In space, time moves by slowly, and hence, I remained un-furrowed and chisled from marble.
Now I have returned, my babies, and will jump and shout, twist and swivel, and dance and strut my way to victory in the EL-VEE-DUBYA!
VIVA LAS VEGAS!
Now, I know that Las Vegas will live on long past me, but one man, oh he's one bad dude too, will not be living much longer! He's the Living Dead, and he gives me the heebee-geebees!
But I'll tie up my blue suede shoes tight, and not even heavy Las Vegas traffic will keep me from this match, because I have a secret weapon to make it to kick off Week Three!
Living Dead, baby, don't be cruel!
HAVE MERCY!!
We're about to put on a show that will blow away the box office receipts from Change of Habit, and, chances are, you'll go over bigger than Mary Tyler Moore!
Now, I got to go open for that hack, Celine Dion down at Caeser's Palace."
Elvis begins to strut down the strip, signing autographs, and singing "You're So Square (And I Don't Care)".
FADE TO BLACK
Platinum-X
League Member
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2005
- Messages
- 17
- Points
- 0
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - El Gordo Grande v. Shorty
We are live at LVW's New Year Show, with the crowd whooping it up, looking forward to some insane matches. Yeah, amidst all this hype, the lights dim, and the TitanTron (or whatever we call that big screen at the ramp area; we must have one, right?) lights up, revealing a scene that is marked "Last Night."
The camera is now trained on a busy Las Vegas scene, shined brightly by streetlights and a full moon. Tall buildings line up next to sidewalks. The camera swings over between two buildings, and suddenly darkens, as it's facing an alleyway. A bright green dumpster can be seen vaguely, as can a dark in this alley. The camera zooms in, to reveal the shadow as a short African-American male, wearing a blue basketball jersey and jean shorts. As the camera centers its focus on him, he begins to speak.
"Yo dawgs. The name's Shorty. Yeah, I'm the new guy in LVW, and tonight, I'm rarin' to show ya'll what I'm made of."
With this, Shorty back towards the wall of the alley.
"Now, I've been watchin' the first couple o' weeks of this show. I've seen some interestin' things, no doubt. But still, I kept tellin' myself at the end, 'Shorty dawg, there's somethin' missin'. I thought 'bout it for awhile now, but 'twasn't till two nights ago that I figured out what that missin' link was."
Shorty, whose back was facing the camera, now turns around towards the camera again. There is a disgusted look on his face.
"Oh, yeah, it was ratha obvious, now wasn't it? I mean, look at that damn rosta. We've got an internet impersonata, fake zombies, cowboys... This place is a dump, made up of all the misfits management could find. I mean, this place is supposed to be 'Takin' it to the obscene.' It ain't doin' that; instead, it's 'Takin' it to hell.'"
Shorty walks forward now, towards the open road ahead of him, his neckalace whipping around at the front of his neck.
"An' when I figured out what was wrong, I knew that only I could fix up this sh!t. I mean, I'm Fly, dawgs. Flya than anyone of 'em backstage, wonderin' how much weirda they can be. I'm a gangsta; I'm the symbol of what's right, and they're just the opposite of that. It's time to bring LVW out of the cellar of stupidity, and I'm gonna f*ckin' go out and do that."
"Right, so tonight, I'm startin' up 'gainst an obese wannabe Luchador, by the name of El Gordo Grande. Look man, I haven't wrestled here yet, but the talent must be thin in Las Vegas if you're still 'round afta two weeks. I guess the sayin's true; 'Third time's the charm.' In this case, the third time ya get yo' ovagrown @ss to the ring, ya won't be gettin' up off of it."
"Yeah, it seems like the road to the LVW World Championship will be an easy one. It's got some obstacles in the form of 250+ poundas, but they're really quite puny. All I gotta do is stomp on 'em, and when I do, they'll crumble. LVW's goin' Gangsta, foo's."
With that Shorty walks out of the alley, a smirk on his face, as the scene fades, and LVW gets to a commercial break.
We are live at LVW's New Year Show, with the crowd whooping it up, looking forward to some insane matches. Yeah, amidst all this hype, the lights dim, and the TitanTron (or whatever we call that big screen at the ramp area; we must have one, right?) lights up, revealing a scene that is marked "Last Night."
The camera is now trained on a busy Las Vegas scene, shined brightly by streetlights and a full moon. Tall buildings line up next to sidewalks. The camera swings over between two buildings, and suddenly darkens, as it's facing an alleyway. A bright green dumpster can be seen vaguely, as can a dark in this alley. The camera zooms in, to reveal the shadow as a short African-American male, wearing a blue basketball jersey and jean shorts. As the camera centers its focus on him, he begins to speak.
"Yo dawgs. The name's Shorty. Yeah, I'm the new guy in LVW, and tonight, I'm rarin' to show ya'll what I'm made of."
With this, Shorty back towards the wall of the alley.
"Now, I've been watchin' the first couple o' weeks of this show. I've seen some interestin' things, no doubt. But still, I kept tellin' myself at the end, 'Shorty dawg, there's somethin' missin'. I thought 'bout it for awhile now, but 'twasn't till two nights ago that I figured out what that missin' link was."
Shorty, whose back was facing the camera, now turns around towards the camera again. There is a disgusted look on his face.
"Oh, yeah, it was ratha obvious, now wasn't it? I mean, look at that damn rosta. We've got an internet impersonata, fake zombies, cowboys... This place is a dump, made up of all the misfits management could find. I mean, this place is supposed to be 'Takin' it to the obscene.' It ain't doin' that; instead, it's 'Takin' it to hell.'"
Shorty walks forward now, towards the open road ahead of him, his neckalace whipping around at the front of his neck.
"An' when I figured out what was wrong, I knew that only I could fix up this sh!t. I mean, I'm Fly, dawgs. Flya than anyone of 'em backstage, wonderin' how much weirda they can be. I'm a gangsta; I'm the symbol of what's right, and they're just the opposite of that. It's time to bring LVW out of the cellar of stupidity, and I'm gonna f*ckin' go out and do that."
"Right, so tonight, I'm startin' up 'gainst an obese wannabe Luchador, by the name of El Gordo Grande. Look man, I haven't wrestled here yet, but the talent must be thin in Las Vegas if you're still 'round afta two weeks. I guess the sayin's true; 'Third time's the charm.' In this case, the third time ya get yo' ovagrown @ss to the ring, ya won't be gettin' up off of it."
"Yeah, it seems like the road to the LVW World Championship will be an easy one. It's got some obstacles in the form of 250+ poundas, but they're really quite puny. All I gotta do is stomp on 'em, and when I do, they'll crumble. LVW's goin' Gangsta, foo's."
With that Shorty walks out of the alley, a smirk on his face, as the scene fades, and LVW gets to a commercial break.
Last edited:
TH
Active member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2004
- Messages
- 2,953
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 42
- Location
- Philadelphia
- Website
- wallsofjerichoholic.blogspot.com
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - NO HOLDS BARRED: Mitch Grey v. Jimmy Donovan
"Yeeeee-haw!"
The scene is the Pahrump Brothel in the Vegas outskirts, one of "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan's favorite hangouts. Sure enough, Jimmy D. is in the lobby, waiting on his special "appointment" to greet him. Jimmy loves cutting promos from brothels, so there's a camera crew there too.
JD: Well now, I reckon that Web Browser is gonna think twice before he refuses a kindly request from me, "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan, to find me some sweet Brazilian poontang after I done did what I said I was gonna done do to him if he didn't done do what I wanted him to done do for me.
I'm not the kinda cowboy who takes kindly to bein' wronged now. I think I done sent that message last week when all thems fancy rules faw rasslin' was in place an' stuff. Now, I gets to really get down an' dirty, kinda like when I fancy myself one of them Kraut hookers who like to poop on you durin' sex. Only difference is I don't see no poop gettin' spread 'round the arena unless Big Mitch Grey done poops his pants durin' the course of the match.
Y'see Mitch, when you done laid me out wit' a chair after the first shindig we had at Mandalay, you done did the second worst thang anyone coulda done, an' that's show bad sportsmanship. The only thing I hates more than bad sportsmanship is getting my hog bit durin' a blowjob. Darn tootin', the only time I ever done hit a woman is when they bite down on my ding-dong, cuz that sh*t stings like nothin' else.
But now, I gets to return the favor, cuz there ain't no rules in this match other than kick the livin' bejesus out of yer opponent, and there's two things I'm good at, bangin' a girl wit'out ever kissin' 'em on the lips and kickin' the livin' bejesus outta folks who done wronged me like you did, Mitch.
So don't feel bad when I caves yer head in with a chair this time around, pardner. Cuz ya really deserved it.
Payback, much like a hooker who ain't been paid after a good lay, is a b*tch.
Fade to the LVW logo.
"Yeeeee-haw!"
The scene is the Pahrump Brothel in the Vegas outskirts, one of "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan's favorite hangouts. Sure enough, Jimmy D. is in the lobby, waiting on his special "appointment" to greet him. Jimmy loves cutting promos from brothels, so there's a camera crew there too.
JD: Well now, I reckon that Web Browser is gonna think twice before he refuses a kindly request from me, "Cowboy" Jimmy Donovan, to find me some sweet Brazilian poontang after I done did what I said I was gonna done do to him if he didn't done do what I wanted him to done do for me.
I'm not the kinda cowboy who takes kindly to bein' wronged now. I think I done sent that message last week when all thems fancy rules faw rasslin' was in place an' stuff. Now, I gets to really get down an' dirty, kinda like when I fancy myself one of them Kraut hookers who like to poop on you durin' sex. Only difference is I don't see no poop gettin' spread 'round the arena unless Big Mitch Grey done poops his pants durin' the course of the match.
Y'see Mitch, when you done laid me out wit' a chair after the first shindig we had at Mandalay, you done did the second worst thang anyone coulda done, an' that's show bad sportsmanship. The only thing I hates more than bad sportsmanship is getting my hog bit durin' a blowjob. Darn tootin', the only time I ever done hit a woman is when they bite down on my ding-dong, cuz that sh*t stings like nothin' else.
But now, I gets to return the favor, cuz there ain't no rules in this match other than kick the livin' bejesus out of yer opponent, and there's two things I'm good at, bangin' a girl wit'out ever kissin' 'em on the lips and kickin' the livin' bejesus outta folks who done wronged me like you did, Mitch.
So don't feel bad when I caves yer head in with a chair this time around, pardner. Cuz ya really deserved it.
Payback, much like a hooker who ain't been paid after a good lay, is a b*tch.
Fade to the LVW logo.
TH
Active member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2004
- Messages
- 2,953
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 42
- Location
- Philadelphia
- Website
- wallsofjerichoholic.blogspot.com
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - NO HOLDS BARRED: Mitch Grey v. Jimmy Donovan
bumpin' Vegas style
bumpin' Vegas style
Steve
the EX-QUEEN of FW~!
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - $25,000 LADDER MATCH: Carmine Esposito v. Hans Nowak
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans Nowak in front of an LVW backdrop. Miss Ann looking sinful, and Hans...preoccupied as he tries to bend a thick metal rod.)
MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my beautiful rotten tomato, do you know what stink truly is?
(Hans ponders the question for a second with a quick eye movement that would make Deniro cry, then continues bending a metal rod.)
MISS ANN: Stink is making my sweet endowment of riches climb, nay, LOOK at a ladder, as if he’s some sort of common thief. Some uneducated dry handed bonerless (CENSOR) who must build rich man’s house. Or climb to wife’s window at night, and slip in for good ****. Yes, the American man always wanting foreigners to do work for them. Here sow this piece of cloth into the teddy bear’s back, here, make baby doll cry when it hungry and pee cow’s urine for real. Here, make plastic transform from Dino back into man, here, please my wife’s stiff, cold, areola and tag me when the ***** needs to go shopping. American men, never wanting to do own work. Hans can’t wait for the day when the Huns come back and destroy this lazy empire too!
HANS: Areola. Grrrrrrrr.
MISS ANN: Oh, my hard Hans….read a book last week Esposito. “Ready, Set, Grow: A Guide to a teenage girl’s body.” He read it Carmine, to better understand the women who give birth to American men. You don’t judge a man’s **** without knowing his butcher, yes? Hans read first English novel to get idea of woman that shoot such ignorance from vagina.
HANS: Vagina. Grrrrrr.
MISS ANN: Hans by any country’s law is educated, and should only see a ladder when he’s pushing some poor **** under it to curse the poor boy for looking Hans in the eyes. But, here in Vegas…Hans city to soon rule…he’s told THAT HE’ S WRESTLING WITH A LADDER? No, protect sea ports! Tell Air Marshalls to stop gunning down deranged Americans in need of meds. Tell GM it needs bodies to make a better car, but don’t tell my Body of God to climb a ladder to earn paycheck!
HANS: Areola. Grrrrr.
MISS ANN: Espositio…tell your lover, Hans not for sell. How can you buy a man who possess everything? And what he MAY not already have…he can take from another man? Hans take 25k….spit on ladder….win second match, and then….go to stage B and rape French singer and white Tiger who ate Roy.
HANS: CARMINE!!!!!!!!!! HANS ATTACK!
MISS ANN: (Ann feels Hans up) Yes you do. Ravish me you savage beast. Ravish me like shy boy in Catholic church!
(FTB)
(FADEIN: Miss Ann and Hans Nowak in front of an LVW backdrop. Miss Ann looking sinful, and Hans...preoccupied as he tries to bend a thick metal rod.)
MISS ANN: Hans, my baby, my beautiful rotten tomato, do you know what stink truly is?
(Hans ponders the question for a second with a quick eye movement that would make Deniro cry, then continues bending a metal rod.)
MISS ANN: Stink is making my sweet endowment of riches climb, nay, LOOK at a ladder, as if he’s some sort of common thief. Some uneducated dry handed bonerless (CENSOR) who must build rich man’s house. Or climb to wife’s window at night, and slip in for good ****. Yes, the American man always wanting foreigners to do work for them. Here sow this piece of cloth into the teddy bear’s back, here, make baby doll cry when it hungry and pee cow’s urine for real. Here, make plastic transform from Dino back into man, here, please my wife’s stiff, cold, areola and tag me when the ***** needs to go shopping. American men, never wanting to do own work. Hans can’t wait for the day when the Huns come back and destroy this lazy empire too!
HANS: Areola. Grrrrrrrr.
MISS ANN: Oh, my hard Hans….read a book last week Esposito. “Ready, Set, Grow: A Guide to a teenage girl’s body.” He read it Carmine, to better understand the women who give birth to American men. You don’t judge a man’s **** without knowing his butcher, yes? Hans read first English novel to get idea of woman that shoot such ignorance from vagina.
HANS: Vagina. Grrrrrr.
MISS ANN: Hans by any country’s law is educated, and should only see a ladder when he’s pushing some poor **** under it to curse the poor boy for looking Hans in the eyes. But, here in Vegas…Hans city to soon rule…he’s told THAT HE’ S WRESTLING WITH A LADDER? No, protect sea ports! Tell Air Marshalls to stop gunning down deranged Americans in need of meds. Tell GM it needs bodies to make a better car, but don’t tell my Body of God to climb a ladder to earn paycheck!
HANS: Areola. Grrrrr.
MISS ANN: Espositio…tell your lover, Hans not for sell. How can you buy a man who possess everything? And what he MAY not already have…he can take from another man? Hans take 25k….spit on ladder….win second match, and then….go to stage B and rape French singer and white Tiger who ate Roy.
HANS: CARMINE!!!!!!!!!! HANS ATTACK!
MISS ANN: (Ann feels Hans up) Yes you do. Ravish me you savage beast. Ravish me like shy boy in Catholic church!
(FTB)
John Doe
The Anorexic Ethiopian
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - El Gordo Grande v. Shorty
FADEIN
El Gordo Grande at a Taco Bell. Taco with fiesta sauce in one hand, large coke in the other as he looks at the camera. A smirk on his face as he wipes his mouth.
EGG:
“There is problem with America, believe me for the amount of weeks I have been here I have noticed it more and more. As I look at some Americans who have disgraced their own country. The country puts people into schools, they help you if you allow them, and throughout the kindness the government of this foreign country shows others just don’t grasp full advantage of that chance. People like Shorty.”
“If Americans want to know why the average citizen’s taxes are so high, ask Shorty. His attempts of gaining food stamps and government aid are because he is jobless. LVW hired him because they needed a hand and they felt sorry. Doubt me? My theory as stated is enough to prove it, by means of the way he speaks. Incomplete sentences, grammar issues, and not to be surprised incorrect pronunciations of words.”
“Giving me the final result and more importantly conclusive result that he never finished school. Now he lives on food stamps and card board pieces of paper stating “Homeless, Food, Money. God Bless”. God bless who? You? Get the hell out of here gangster your futile attempt to be a gang banger and your incompetent chance of making money of the hustle is makes me giggle…just like you ability in the ring”
“World Championship Belt? Ha! You kidding, people like you don’t win belts, they win nothing. Because you failed in life. And people don’t like failures. This is suppose to be your second chance, but it’s not as easy as begging outside of the local McDonalds. This is a test of strength and ability something you don’t acquire.”
“Potentially you believe you are the best newcomer to have hit the stage. This is LVW bud, there is no one great, except the fans whom put their money in our pockets so you avoid the repo-man. I personally believe men like you drain the company in the long wrong because your ego manhandles the best of you. I take it day by day match by match, and because of that mentality I overcome every enemy in my path.”
“Unlike you Shorty I plan on making myself as successful as Jonathan Marx and John Doe. You live in the glimpses of succeeding like Trevor Cane and that nobody El Arco Iris. And because of my pursuit to the spot light I will never be stopped.”
“You are just another fish in the sea. You are at the guppy I am the blue f*cking whale. Get the picture kid? I have worked long and hard in this promotion and because of that I will prevail once more, you are looking at 3-0 for me whore. Read them and weep it son, I draw a full house you nobody, that’s why I get paid to do what I do, point proven. Ready aim fire.”
“VIVA LAS VEGAS!”
FADEOUT
FADEIN
El Gordo Grande at a Taco Bell. Taco with fiesta sauce in one hand, large coke in the other as he looks at the camera. A smirk on his face as he wipes his mouth.
EGG:
“There is problem with America, believe me for the amount of weeks I have been here I have noticed it more and more. As I look at some Americans who have disgraced their own country. The country puts people into schools, they help you if you allow them, and throughout the kindness the government of this foreign country shows others just don’t grasp full advantage of that chance. People like Shorty.”
“If Americans want to know why the average citizen’s taxes are so high, ask Shorty. His attempts of gaining food stamps and government aid are because he is jobless. LVW hired him because they needed a hand and they felt sorry. Doubt me? My theory as stated is enough to prove it, by means of the way he speaks. Incomplete sentences, grammar issues, and not to be surprised incorrect pronunciations of words.”
“Giving me the final result and more importantly conclusive result that he never finished school. Now he lives on food stamps and card board pieces of paper stating “Homeless, Food, Money. God Bless”. God bless who? You? Get the hell out of here gangster your futile attempt to be a gang banger and your incompetent chance of making money of the hustle is makes me giggle…just like you ability in the ring”
“World Championship Belt? Ha! You kidding, people like you don’t win belts, they win nothing. Because you failed in life. And people don’t like failures. This is suppose to be your second chance, but it’s not as easy as begging outside of the local McDonalds. This is a test of strength and ability something you don’t acquire.”
“Potentially you believe you are the best newcomer to have hit the stage. This is LVW bud, there is no one great, except the fans whom put their money in our pockets so you avoid the repo-man. I personally believe men like you drain the company in the long wrong because your ego manhandles the best of you. I take it day by day match by match, and because of that mentality I overcome every enemy in my path.”
“Unlike you Shorty I plan on making myself as successful as Jonathan Marx and John Doe. You live in the glimpses of succeeding like Trevor Cane and that nobody El Arco Iris. And because of my pursuit to the spot light I will never be stopped.”
“You are just another fish in the sea. You are at the guppy I am the blue f*cking whale. Get the picture kid? I have worked long and hard in this promotion and because of that I will prevail once more, you are looking at 3-0 for me whore. Read them and weep it son, I draw a full house you nobody, that’s why I get paid to do what I do, point proven. Ready aim fire.”
“VIVA LAS VEGAS!”
FADEOUT
Last edited:
P
parallax1978
Guest
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - Jonathan Nash v. Bill Bellmoth
(FADEIN: Sir Simon Smith standing in a parking lot behind Mandalay Bay.)
SMITH: "Where the hell is this guy, I know he's a 9 time bracelet winner, but damn it, the dice are calling to me!"
(A grey BMW pulls up, Bill Bellmoth steps out)
"My driver got sick... (Faked sincerity) Sorry...Sorry"
“You can relax now Sir Sam or whatever your meaningless name is, the great Bill Bellmoth 9 time World Series of Wrestling Champion has arrived, I will give you a moment to think about how great I am, ::IMMIDEATELY SAYS:: that’s long enough, you don’t deserve to ponder my greatness any longer.
I can’t believe I am being fed ANOTHER green jobber like this Jonathon Nash. In my last match I set the guy up perfectly the whole match and have him right where I planned to, and lose when he gets the miracle roll up out of no where, and the only thing they can find me after that is this guy? I am a NINE TIME World Series of Wrestling champion, this idiot can’t even SPELL champion, and has no business in the same ring with someone of my stature.
You want to make a name for yourself in this business kid? Go ask the other top 5 wrestlers in this business; you are never going to do it with the amateur moveset you have, and since the brain trust that run this glorified indy promotion have decided that you have done something to deserve the honor of getting in the ring with the best in the business, I am going to have to teach you the way a match is supposed to be wrestled.”
::Walks off in disgust::
(FADEIN: Sir Simon Smith standing in a parking lot behind Mandalay Bay.)
SMITH: "Where the hell is this guy, I know he's a 9 time bracelet winner, but damn it, the dice are calling to me!"
(A grey BMW pulls up, Bill Bellmoth steps out)
"My driver got sick... (Faked sincerity) Sorry...Sorry"
“You can relax now Sir Sam or whatever your meaningless name is, the great Bill Bellmoth 9 time World Series of Wrestling Champion has arrived, I will give you a moment to think about how great I am, ::IMMIDEATELY SAYS:: that’s long enough, you don’t deserve to ponder my greatness any longer.
I can’t believe I am being fed ANOTHER green jobber like this Jonathon Nash. In my last match I set the guy up perfectly the whole match and have him right where I planned to, and lose when he gets the miracle roll up out of no where, and the only thing they can find me after that is this guy? I am a NINE TIME World Series of Wrestling champion, this idiot can’t even SPELL champion, and has no business in the same ring with someone of my stature.
You want to make a name for yourself in this business kid? Go ask the other top 5 wrestlers in this business; you are never going to do it with the amateur moveset you have, and since the brain trust that run this glorified indy promotion have decided that you have done something to deserve the honor of getting in the ring with the best in the business, I am going to have to teach you the way a match is supposed to be wrestled.”
::Walks off in disgust::
Last edited:
ShawnHartXXX
The Phenom
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - Elvis Aaron Presley v. The Living Dead
FADE IN:
INT. A HOTEL SUITE - EVENING
As Vegas' resident re-animated 'rassler, the LIVING DEAD, chews some kind of meat off of a bone bearing uncanny resemblence to the fibula, the baddest white, female, suburban MC to hit the biz, MC LUSCIOUS BOOTY DIVA X, steps to forefront, peers into the camera, and begins to drop science.
Check this shizz, aight?!
She licks her lips, rocks her head from side to side, then continues.
Last week, some serious negah sh(FCC)t went down, ya feel me?
She cracks a mischevious grin and begins to gyrate her hips.
Shoooooot, y'all WISH you could feel me!!! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaay-uuuuuuuuuumm!!
Agitated by her sudden outburst, the Living Dead angrily tosses his bone off-camera
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...uuunnnngggggggghhhhh...
Diva giggles to herself like a schoolgirl, then returns to the promo in process.
She looks from side to side. No response.
CUT TO: A close-up of a now infuriated Living Dead.
BAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. A HOTEL SUITE - EVENING
As Vegas' resident re-animated 'rassler, the LIVING DEAD, chews some kind of meat off of a bone bearing uncanny resemblence to the fibula, the baddest white, female, suburban MC to hit the biz, MC LUSCIOUS BOOTY DIVA X, steps to forefront, peers into the camera, and begins to drop science.
DIVA:
Check this shizz, aight?!
She licks her lips, rocks her head from side to side, then continues.
DIVA:
Last week, some serious negah sh(FCC)t went down, ya feel me?
She cracks a mischevious grin and begins to gyrate her hips.
DIVA:
Shoooooot, y'all WISH you could feel me!!! Daaaaaaaaaaaaaay-uuuuuuuuuumm!!
Agitated by her sudden outburst, the Living Dead angrily tosses his bone off-camera
LIVING DEAD:
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrnnngggh!!! GAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!DIVA:
Hold up son, no need to get sick like Tiny Tim up in here! Besides, ain't you thrown enough bones for one day? I can't even walk straight, honey-bunz!LIVING DEAD:
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...uuunnnngggggggghhhhh...
Diva giggles to herself like a schoolgirl, then returns to the promo in process.
DIVA:
So here's the deal, last week... me n' my guy dun dropped the ball like Reggie Bush in the Rose Bowl while that dizzy fool Hands Slow Wack ran a train on us Vince Young style. But you know what? It's all good. It'saaaaaaaaaall good in da hood. Cuz this week, we gots tha KING of kings, straight out the spaceship and right into Sin City. Fools be flossin' like he's been dead, but ya know what? My pimp here actually IS dead, which means no matter how hard homeboy shakes his hips, he ain't gon' feel a damn thing! Y'all know what that means?She looks from side to side. No response.
DIVA:
It MEANS that the Living Dead and Luscious Booty Diva X gonna be rollin' hard like the Royal Guard cuz this week, we're gettin' sheish back on track. And after that, Vegas title here we come! Bettah be ready Elvis, cuz we'z about to DO THE CLAM on yo ass!CUT TO: A close-up of a now infuriated Living Dead.
LIVING DEAD:
BAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHH!!!
FADE OUT.
Last edited:
Platinum-X
League Member
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2005
- Messages
- 17
- Points
- 0
Re: Week 3 (New Year's) - El Gordo Grande v. Shorty
The scene is now a small bar in the outskirts of Vegas. Inside, we find Shorty. As he begins to sip a drink, we can hear him talking:
“Grande! Stop kiddin’ yourself. Your perfectly polished gramma? It don’t exist. Don’t tell me that sh!t wasn’t scripted. Nobody talks like that. There’s no need for ya to get enraged ova me speakin’ normal; ya betta off sittin’ yo’ ovagrown @ss back on yo’ couch, or betta yet, crawlin’ it ova the borda and back where ya came from.”
“No dawg, I made it as far as I could—high school—which is betta than where you are. I mean, it don’t take a PhD to figure out what’s goin’ on here.”
“First thing, who the f*ck’re ya callin’ uneducated? Man, you’re some lame illegal alien. Ya probably lip-synched your speeches, ‘cuz I can’t imagine you sayin’ that sh!t. And this country gives opportunity to all? Dawg, I got more chances to shove soap down yo’ throat than I have chances to get into college. And yo’ chances of passin’ first grade/ As good as yo’ chances of beatin’ me. It jus’ ain’t gonna happen.”
“Second, ya haven’t done nothin’ worthy of talkin’. Wow, you’ve won two f*ckin’ matches! Dammit, I jus’ crapped my pants, I’m so scared! Not! Listen up dawg, you’ve done nothin’ so far. If you’re proud afta two weeks you’ll be somethin’ ya called me. An egomaniac.”
“Yeah, so I admit it. I’m cocky and that’s a fact. I don’t care how pissed off the world is at me, ‘cuz I know that at the end of the day, I’ll get the job done than you or anyone else on the LVW Rosta. And come match time, unlike you, I’ll shut up and prove it.”
“Finally, how dare ya suggest I ain’t Gangsta, huh? Think I’m fakin’ this sh!t? Dawg, I’m from ‘em rough places. I lived on the streets of New York. I know what’s Fly, and I know you’re not. Look at ya, a 260 pounf Luchador, who snuck up ‘cross the boundary of Mexico to provide comic relief to Las Vegas by showin’ the world the crap ya call wrestlin’ skill/ Take notes dawg, if you’re able to write afta this, ‘cuz I’m gonna show ya how it’s done. It’s Fly Time, baby!”
With that, Shorty quickly chugs down his beer, and then goes to leave the bar, as the scene ends.
The scene is now a small bar in the outskirts of Vegas. Inside, we find Shorty. As he begins to sip a drink, we can hear him talking:
“Grande! Stop kiddin’ yourself. Your perfectly polished gramma? It don’t exist. Don’t tell me that sh!t wasn’t scripted. Nobody talks like that. There’s no need for ya to get enraged ova me speakin’ normal; ya betta off sittin’ yo’ ovagrown @ss back on yo’ couch, or betta yet, crawlin’ it ova the borda and back where ya came from.”
“No dawg, I made it as far as I could—high school—which is betta than where you are. I mean, it don’t take a PhD to figure out what’s goin’ on here.”
“First thing, who the f*ck’re ya callin’ uneducated? Man, you’re some lame illegal alien. Ya probably lip-synched your speeches, ‘cuz I can’t imagine you sayin’ that sh!t. And this country gives opportunity to all? Dawg, I got more chances to shove soap down yo’ throat than I have chances to get into college. And yo’ chances of passin’ first grade/ As good as yo’ chances of beatin’ me. It jus’ ain’t gonna happen.”
“Second, ya haven’t done nothin’ worthy of talkin’. Wow, you’ve won two f*ckin’ matches! Dammit, I jus’ crapped my pants, I’m so scared! Not! Listen up dawg, you’ve done nothin’ so far. If you’re proud afta two weeks you’ll be somethin’ ya called me. An egomaniac.”
“Yeah, so I admit it. I’m cocky and that’s a fact. I don’t care how pissed off the world is at me, ‘cuz I know that at the end of the day, I’ll get the job done than you or anyone else on the LVW Rosta. And come match time, unlike you, I’ll shut up and prove it.”
“Finally, how dare ya suggest I ain’t Gangsta, huh? Think I’m fakin’ this sh!t? Dawg, I’m from ‘em rough places. I lived on the streets of New York. I know what’s Fly, and I know you’re not. Look at ya, a 260 pounf Luchador, who snuck up ‘cross the boundary of Mexico to provide comic relief to Las Vegas by showin’ the world the crap ya call wrestlin’ skill/ Take notes dawg, if you’re able to write afta this, ‘cuz I’m gonna show ya how it’s done. It’s Fly Time, baby!”
With that, Shorty quickly chugs down his beer, and then goes to leave the bar, as the scene ends.