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MAIN EVENT: War Games

TheOriginalSE

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All RP for the WAR GAMES MAIN EVENT match at Sin City Showdown should be posted in this thread.


Representing EMPIRE PRO WRESTLING...
- "Triple X" Sean Stevens (c)
- The First
- "New School" Layne Winters (c)
- Jared Wells (c)
- Fusenshoff

Representing NEW ERA OF WRESTLING
- Shawn Jessica Hart, PhD. (c)
- Felix Red (c) (from NGEN)
- "the Sultan of Twat" Peter File
- Cameron Cruise
- "The Dog of War" Jason Payne


* For storyline purposes, this match is happening on the same day as EPW Aggression 50 and New ERA Destrucity II.
(This means that the events of this show will occur on February 10, 2010. Please remember this when RPing.)

The RP Deadline is FEBRUARY 20th @ 11:59pm PST.

All angles should be sent to both Dave and my personal PM boxes here on FWcentral.

... enjoy!
 

The Great Eye

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A bit of a diva moment

(FADEIN: The First in his dressing room in the back of the Thomas and Mack Center. He's sitting down on a bench wearing only a black pair of boxer/briefs, his face is unpainted, and he has a bandage near the hairline over his right eye.)

FIRST: So I threw a fit after my shower and I threw away my wife beater, my pants, my socks...Didn't trash my ring boots cause I like this pair, had them for a little over a year, which is a record for a pair of ring boots, and well, really didn't want to have to break in a new pair...

So I'm thinking how stupid this little temper tantrum was, and what a pity party I just threw for myself, and then I come to understand that...Well I've just friggin' destroyed my ring pants, and I got another match tonight...See I thought this war games was tomorrow...Not in a few hours...I did have another pair of gi pants at my hotel...And well, I figured Muse could go back and get them...But then somebody talked to her and information was exchanged and now some random EPW staffer is doing it.

Just think, if I threw a fit like this at an office job or something of the like, I'd be fired, tossed out...Declared a nut...But I'm a performer...So not only is it acceptable, but it's practically expected...I'm to be humored, placated, kept happy, I'm 'the talent' as it were...

And I look at it and I ask myself is this how Triple X became how he is today? That the money, the fame, the power...That everyone began just tolerating his crap? That he learned that he can get away with anything because nobody will ever call him out on anything he does, that the rules don't apply to him, and because of that, he feels like he NEEDS to be a jerk, to re-enforce that fact?

I could go down that path, I could treat people like dirt, accept that the morals and standards of polite society don't apply to me...I could do all these things...But I won't...I'm not going to let it get to me...I will fight kicking and screaming not to let that happen...

See, now just about everyone in that arena would cheer, would accept it if I beat the hell out of Triple X in that cage...I could jump him and just start laid his ass out...But no...I'm going to do what I'm supposed to...And that's win this fight, that's being Trip's best friend in the whole world...He needs some help, he gets it...Because I don't let things like a personal issue get in the way of the goal...And besides...I get my pound of flesh all the same...

Cammy...Buddy, I'm going to beat the hell out of you...You walk out and punk Trip and Wells, that's fine, I'm a fan of that...But you grab that EPW World Title belt and start parading around with it...Like it's your belt...Well...Then we got a problem...And now we're going to settle that problem...Because you sir, are not welcome here...You want Triple X? You only get him after I'm done...You want that belt? You come get it after it's MINE...

You don't meddle in my affairs without paying...I'd have thought you figured that out after Russian Roulette, but now I guess you have to be taught another lesson...

And I will put a stop payment on your reality check...

(FADEOUT)
 

Jason Payne

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What happens in Vegas...

FADE IN on Jason Payne standing on a rooftop overlooking The Strip. His right foot on a ledge, his arms crossed over his knee as he leans forward to look over the ledge, and around Sin City. Millions of lights flash, stream, blink and otherwise dance in the night time kaleidescope that is Las Vegas. Payne's expressions is one of contemplation it would seem. Traffic rushes by in the streets below, the occasional honk from a car horn is heard. Still looking out over the city, Payne speaks.

Payne - "Empire Pro. A name that is synonymous with the finest in this business. A world wide multi-media conglomerate. A yardstick some would argue that is used to measure all others in this business. Any other time, I would probably speak very highly about this organization, and it's talent. But now is not one of those times. You see, there are times when one has to let go of what they think they might feel, and detach themselves from the fabric of what they know in order to conduct business. And unfortunately for five members of Empire Pro, I have to do that."

Payne lets his gaze fall from side to side slowly.

Payne - "There are those that would say this match is for bragging rights. There are others that say this match is to showcase the best that Empire Pro and New ERA have to offer. Others still say this match is for buy rates. But regardless of what anyone else thinks, this match is about one thing, and one thing only. It's about something that I am very adept at. Surviving. This match is going to be pure and brutal hell, and I have no illusions of an easy victory. But make no mistake about it, New ERA is sending not just any dog into the fight. They're sending the Dog of War. What does that mean for the Empire Pro contingent? It means that if I have anything to say about it, they're going to be in for a long evening. Wells, Fusenhoff, Layne Winters, First, and Sean Stevens. Guys I've heard of but have never been in the same ring with. Gentlemen, if I were in your position, I would take stock of your physical condition, and your psyche, for I assure you that once you've felt what I have in store from you, none of you are going to be the same again."

Payne slowly turns around to face the camera, a light show going on behind him from all the casinos along the strip.

Payne - "I'm sure you boys buy into the hype about how you're the best of the best, the cream of the crop, and all that jazz. Well, that kind of suits me just fine. You see when you think that, that's when you usually make mistakes. That's when you start getting cocky, and you lose your focus. And that my friends, is the key to this. Focus. I am focused only on one thing right now, and that is doing whatever...and sweet Jesus I do mean, whatever it takes to win this match. Don't be fooled just because the fans cheer when I walk through the curtain. While I know the Payniacs have my back, don't think for one second that I won't stop at anything if it means putting myself at an advantage. I do what it takes to win, and I will hurt you. I will seriously hurt you."

Payne folds his arms across his chest.

Payne - "Now the question that's begging answered, is what about Cruise? Everyone assumes there is animosity between myself and him over the tag-team title situation. Allow me to put an end to that speculation right now. The tag title is not of any concern right now. That title is not going to be decided in this match, so Cruise is not going to be an issue. What is going to be decided in this match, what will be defined, what will be remembered, will be the brutality involved, the will to win, and the glory of victory. Careers will change in this match. Whether those careers will be made, or broken, remains to be seen. If I were you guys from Empire Pro, I'd start finding a way to soothe your egos now before we break them, and you. Make no mistake, you are the enemy here, no matter how much you may be respected. When I look across the ring, I'm only going to be seeing victims. Victims of a tragic circumstance. That circumstance being that they found themselves trapped helpless in the path of an oncoming train. A New ERA train, with Jason Payne as it's engineer."

Payne slowly walks towards the camera, and lifts up his hand, pantomiming pulling a train whistle.

Payne - "Toot, toot *****es. You'll never see it coming."

Payne slowly walks out of shot, the Las Vegas skyline shown in the background as we FADE TO BLACK.
 

Fusenshoff

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Re: What happens in Vegas...

Fade in to Fusenshoff a few days before the Sin City Showdown. He’s drinking a draft beer at the Bellagio casino bar. Fuse is slouched over in his usual attire. He has on a wife beater, black leather jacket, black jeans and black boots. One change from the ordinary is what he’s wearing on his face. He has a pair of all-black sunglasses on. They’re cheap, probably from a sunglass stand on the Strip. Fusenshoff looks worn out.

Fusenshoff: “I suppose I should consider myself lucky. If I’d been born in this town I’d probably be dead by now. Of course, for those who know me best, that’s something I’d likely welcome. While the satisfaction I’ve received from wrestling over the past few years has lightened my grievances to an extent, I still have considerable demons. Still, this city will kick a grown man’s ass whether you beg for mercy or taunt it for more.

“It’s been over a week since I touched down in this land of sand with no beaches. In a couple of days I’ll be pulling double duty. First I’ll be facing one of the legends of Empire Pro. He’s a man with hall of fame credentials and a penchant for kicking and screaming when his shoulders mash the mat. I’m talking about Karl “The Dragon” Brown. If you’ve never heard of him, most people have probably never heard of you either.

“But that’s not my focus right now. It’s War Games, WFW:NE, the Sin City Showdown. Three of the men in this match I’ve met before in the ring. One of those men is the “Dog of War” Jason Payne.

“Normally I’m the one that’s most susceptible to blacking out. Still, generally speaking we have a little more than a week to prepare for an opponent. For the most part, in this sport they give us that much time for training and research on the man you’ll meet in the ring.

“A week is a long time. I spend most of that time liquored up to the point that most of my pain is bearable and I’m comfortably numb. Even then, I’ve never forgotten facing someone in a match, no matter how long it’s been.

“Apparently for our friend “The Dog” that just isn’t the case. Payne must go through opponents like The Blue-Eyed Badass goes through one-night stands. I’d like to think getting your ass handed to you by Yours Truly would be a bit more memorable than one of Triple X’s ‘hide the bologna pony’ romps.

“Good call saying you’ve never met anyone in this EPW War Games match in the ring before Payne. We met two years ago in TEAM. I left standing, you didn’t.

“But hell, you were out of the game for a little bit, at least around these parts anyway. Lord knows every damn match you lost over in TEAM you had an excuse for. I’ve never met a man that can rationalize mediocrity like you can. How the hell you’ve gotten this far is on talent alone. You can’t be improving. People learn from their mistakes. According to you, you’ve never made one.

“One other thing- you talk about EPW as the epitome of a wrestling federation. That’s all well and grand; you can believe what you want. The talent in EPW is undoubtedly the pinnacle of what any federation can hope for. But men like us don’t excel in this sport by underestimating your opponents.

“Don’t get me wrong. Some of the men representing EPW in this match have egos that would make Ron Jeremy blush. Our World Champion immediately springs to mind. But he didn’t become the first-ever two-time EPW World Champion by taking his opponents lightly.

“You can go ahead and make assumptions before any of us have even gotten a word in, but it’s not the type of strategy I’d recommend. Hell, two of the men on your side of the ropes are in Empire Pro. The current and last Intercontinental Champion will be tagging you in when the bell rings.

“Once again your perception of reality is flawed Payne. You have a history of blaming everything but yourself for losses. Go ahead and claim otherwise, I’ll just subpoena Jess Chapel and we’ll see if his testimony supports you or me. You’ve apparently blocked out our match from a few years back. At least you didn’t claim a fan shined a laser light in your eyes, allowing me to drop you on your chin from seven feet in the air. Now you’re already playing the underdog card. You’re just begging one of the EPW wrestlers to brush you off so you can attack their constitution and claim you have the upper hand.

“I can’t speak for nine other men, but I promise I’ll be just as focused as I always am. Hell, I have Karl Brown for my first match of the night. You blink a split-second longer than normal and he’ll have you counting lights in the rafters.

“As for you, maybe you should dig out the tape from our last match. Maybe it’ll give you a little insight. Hell, it may even jog your memory.

“I remember exactly what went down in TEAM between the two of us. You can’t even remember my fists in your forehead. Maybe you should take the blinders off Payne.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff finishes off the last of his beer. He’s never been the kind of man who shies away from excess and Sin City’s the capital of the world where that’s concerned.
 

Jason Payne

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FADE IN on Jason Payne holding a microphone, standing in front of a concrete wall. No frills, no real production here. Just one of them old school Dirty South wrestling promos straight out of 1983. The sound quality isn't perfect, and the camera is a little unsteady, and when Payne speaks, his voice cuts through like a Mack truck since the mic is turned up a couple extra numbers on the sound mixer. Payne with a pissed off look on his face as he looks into the camera.

Payne - "Ya know if I really gave a crap about anything Fusenhoff had to say, they'd have to admit me to the hospital and give me about a case of Ex-Lax to get my bowels moving because in all serious, the guy really doesn't impress me all that much. He's overexposed, and overrated as both a wrestler, and putting the guy on camera to have him speak is testament to being forced to sit through a Hannah Montana marathon without ever getting the urge to pleasure myself whenever Miley Cyrus is on the screen. Now he can come on T.V. and run his mouth about how he whipped Jason Payne's ass five or six years ago in an organization that quite frankly is long gone, and irrelevant. Hell, thinking back to those days, busting my ass working for two world reknowned promotions, as well as the leader in inter-promotional professional wrestling TEAM, to get one over on Jason Payne back then wouldn't have been a big thing. Now I know more than anything in this business that ya gotta win to survive, but I remember that night quite well Fuse, and I know I made certain to give you everything you could handle."

"So why come out here and disregard that as if it never happened? For the same exact reasons I just stated 30 seconds ago. It's irrelevant. It don't mean a god damned thing. If I thought losing a match to you really did anything, or meant anything, then maybe I would have mentioned it. But the fact of the matter is Fuse, is that right now, to me, you're nothing more than a giant piece of trash that has been sitting around for a long time, and no one's bothered to put you in the dumpster yet. And that's what's fixing to happen at Sin City Showdown when you and the EPW Olympic Circle Jerk Squad find yourselves in the ring with quite simply the best there is in the business today."

"How has Jason Payne been able to survive so long on just pure talent? I'll tell you why. For the exact same reasons that when you set foot in the ring with me, you're going to find out you're dealing with a different Jason Payne than the one you faced all those years ago. I'm long on talent, I'm long on drive, I'm long on willpower, and I'm long in places that Mrs. Fusenhoff wishes that you were a tad bit longer in. But hey, they make pills for that my friend, just as they make pills to deal with the pain and the hurt that I'm gonna put on you, and the rest of your EPW teammates."

"The fact is pal, you want to come out here and list my shortcomings, as if the entire world doesn't know the history of Jason Payne. My career is an open book of me kicking the crap out of people, and getting the crap kicked out of me. But even if I get the crap kicked out of me, I always get right back up, and I get into the next fight. I eat, sleep, breathe, and live this business 24 hours a day. This isn't a job where I punch out a time card to go home to the wife, kids, and the white house with a picket fence at the end of the day. I am constantly learning, constantly adapting, constantly improving. And you Fuse, are going to find out what a difference a few years can make."

"Your denial of what awaits you may serve to save your psych in the short term. But soon, and I mean soon, the reality of what will happen, will collide with your denial, and what then Fuse? What then will you do? I'm gonna explain what you're going to do. You're going to find yourself laying on your back, staring at the lights while Jason Payne, and the rest of the New ERA contingent stand over your broken body, and the broken body and broken spirits of the rest of your team."

"So sit back. Enjoy that beer. Enjoy living in your penthouse while you can. But understand this. I'm quite possibly the most dangerous man in the ring in this match. Because I have a knowledge of how to make you hurt, scream, beg for mercy. Whilst I lack the mercy to end your suffering quickly. I have no conscience to speak of when it comes to being in that ring, and looking you in the face, and knowing that I will do whatever it takes so that you won't walk out of Sin City Showdown alive. And it's not just you I care to hurt either. It doesn't matter which of you I get my hands on. You will hurt, you will bleed, and you will find out the true definition of pain and suffering."

"Sin City Showdown! New ERA vs. Empire Pro! War Games! I'm on a war footing gentlemen. And just like any soldier, I will give no quarter once we go into battle. For someone like you Fusenhoff, it's simply about mind over matter. You no longer matter, so I won't mind ripping you to pieces. And I'll be sure to watch, and listen for your excuses as to why you lost to a man you beat years ago. Times change Fuse. As well as people. Come Sin City Showdown, you'd do best, to remember that."

FTB
 

jayshort

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[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]BlahblahblahblahblahblahBLAH![/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FADEIN: [FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Backstage. ...at the Thomas and Mack Center – Las Vegas, Nevada.[/FONT][/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Seated on a plush leather sofa, wrapped in a towel, with the EPW World Heavyweight Championship draped across his lap was it's owner, it's possessor, it's ... guardian – SEAN 'TRIPLE X' STEVENS.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X:I'm going to do this, I'm going to be that, I think I can, I think I can, I --know you CAN'T. And, I can see it now ... “But, Sean, The First took you to your limits tonight,” ...and, to that I say: Do you think any of you idiots saw my limits? Bitch please. In the last year and a half alone, I've faced Eli Flair and retired him. Mike Randalls and beat the shit out of him in a Punjabi Prison. I fucked Rocko Daymon's wife, and tossed him out of an arena window, making him all hell bent on revenge and shit, looking to kill me, and to all of that I've survived.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Playfully slaps himself on the forehead.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: Damn, wrong choice of words. I didn't mean to imply that I simply survived, I also ... well ... beat them. All. Each and every one of them. Convincingly. Look it up. It's true. Really.[/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]What was my point in all of this again?” the champion asked, seemingly confused. [/FONT]
[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]He quickly remembered, snapping his fingers in confirmation. “Oh, that's right – to tell Brian Nadalny, aka The First, aka the marginally skilled weirdo that got famous by riding my dick, aka the unoriginal, uninspired little guy with the cute little flippy moves, that typically hurts himself more than his opponents – to STOP CRYING, STOP MAKING EXCUSES, AND SHUT THE FUCK UP. You whiny little BITCH! MY GOD.”[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]The EPW World Heavyweight Champion cracked his neck.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: Now that that's been taken care of – not that it's actually going to work – let me ask you something Jason. Are you on crack? I mean, you cut your little promo, standing on a rooftop, overlooking the Las Vegas strip, looking and sounding like a graduate from: “Random Wrestling Promo Tech” ... and, I was willing to overlook all of that, and even forgive it, until you denied me.[/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]I mean, I can understand you not knowing The First. ...he's a nobody. Fusenshoff was my sidekick's slave for a year, which says alot considering he didn't meet the standard criteria to be mine. Apparently, at some point in time, you've even lost to him, which does absolutely nothing for your resume, if you're looking to impress me, considering the fact that Fusenshoff is a well documented, self described alcoholic. Jared Wells is a pretty big deal, and we have similar tastes in women, and he's generally someone you would want to know ... but, I am the holder of the most prestigious World Heavyweight Championship in our circuit ... and, well ... I've kinda been holding it for a very long time. [/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]I'm somebody in this industry, Jason. I'm THE guy. The one. The Man. You remember when you were a rookie? When you used to sit in your locker and fantasize about the bright lights, the hoards of men, women, boys and girls screaming your name, as you plowed through another victim on your way to being hailed as the greatest specimen that the wrestling industry has ever seen?”[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Trip shot his hand in the air, like a grade schooler would.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: That's ME. In the flesh. I've reached that plateau, by beating anybody who's anyone in this industry, one of those people being ... YOU. And, before you puff your fat ass, double D chest out, don't flatter yourself, you idiot. I wasn't implying that you are actually somebody, because if memory serves me correctly, I remember barely breaking a sweat in demolishing you. The match itself was forgetable. But, there were little comedic nuances that kept me entertained, and made the experience memorable for me. Like, the fact that you cut an entire promo, for your match in an earlier round, on a toilet, claiming to be taking a “Hiroshi”. Then, after getting in his head, and defeating,” ahem “the THEN NFW World Heavyweight Champion, with basic, schoolyard, trash talk, you assumed that you had reached the top of the mountain, and that anything else was a level below. Then you met me...[/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]... then I shoved my foot so far up your ass, my toes tickled your prostate. Then, you collapsed, in the fetal position, I pinned you with my foot on your chest, because I didn't want your fat ass, sweating all over me, because I had a fashion show to attend that night, and didn't want to walk in smelling like chitterlings.”[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]Stevens smirked, running his fingers through his dampened golden locks.[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]TRIPLE X: There's always a strategy in everything that I do. The EPW audience can boo me, throw tomatoes at me, and label me the Evil Emperor, but they also know that when push comes to shove, and an outside organization attempts to claim superiority, I'm the only man on the planet capable of saving it time and time again, because it's what I've done, and well ... I am Mr. EPW.[/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]I could've beaten Brian Nadalny senseless tonight. I could've smashed his dreams of thinking he can compete on my level, and rid myself of that annoying little gnat, but no ... I let him live another day. Because I didn't want any freak accidents preventing me from protecting the company that I love. The company that I rule. ... and, letting your mediocre, rag tag organization ever be able to say that you've beaten us in anything, in barbershop conversation.[/FONT]

“[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]And, this time ... when I'm done. When I beat you the fuck up, outclass you, and take a “Hiroshi” on your company's aspirations of taking that gigantic leap into the EPW stratosphere ... do what The First did. Mention my name every five seconds ... at the very least, it'll get you t-shirt sales, and a faux pas as a deserved main eventer.”[/FONT]

[FONT=Tahoma, sans-serif]FTB[/FONT]
 

TSiegel

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"March Eightteenth, Two-Thousand-Four in this business is a day held in infamy; at least in the eyes of a talent-slash-employee of Empire Pro Wrestling."

(CUTTO: An abandoned park, at night. With a sliver of a breeze, the camera cuts to a shadow that suddenly moves left and then right, then left again. The camera then refocused to reveal one Cameron Cruise, a solemn look on his face. After the last two events, Cruise sits silently still on the while minutes pass. The camera then cuts to an angle right in front of Cruise as the shadow hides his facial expression. Though the shadow might prevent from showing the current feeling Cruise has on his face it's fairly evident in his voice that due to the recent actions in both Empire Pro and New Era....he's not happy.)

CRUISE: That day was marked by virtue of a submission victory by one Christian Sands over who would later capitalize on things in "Beast"...or Marcus Westcott. But that day was also marked by another victory before that; one by virtue of a pin over Troy Douglas in a Four-way Elimination match for the FIRST Number One Contendership for Empire Pro.

(Another beat or two passes.)

The man who was first to chance at derailing Empire Pro's first World Heavyweight Champion almost two weeks later wasn't just any man....it was yours truly.

Not Adam Benjamin.....ME.

Not Mister Entertainment.....CAMERON CRUISE.

Granted, as a man almost six years ago younger I had plenty of skills to compete with the likes of the other men on the roster, but I still ended up on the wrong side of a submission and I lost the match. Now I'm not sure at that point whether it was my good luck or bad luck that I managed to be called into Paul Freeman's office for something that would change my life and the course of this business as we know it....teaming with one Joey Melton.

Because of that I haven't had another chance at competing for the World Heavyweight title since.

Sure...I've been around the World.

I've performed for Kings, Queens, Emperors and Princesses.

I've signed millions of autographs and showed of to countless Charity events, events that have been for good causes.

Though I might've won the EPW Intercontinental title once or twice...I've always been known as a "Tag Team-Specialist" here in Empire Pro, never one for "The Main Event".

Even in New Era...I'd presided under the mantle of "Television Champion" and "Tag Team Champion", taking on the likes of Minion, Mister Entertainment, John Doe as well as Mister Erik Black.

At least until recently.

Now it appears that even though I have no EPW Intercontinental title, and neither do I possess the Televsion and Tag Team title in New Era, I've been chosen with four other men as a representative of New Era against five men from Empire Pro.

Both companies as I said until recently...had been good to me.

In Empire Pro I had put together the most ELITE group of talent this business has to offer in accordance with one other man that I had grown to consider a friend....but my BROTHER...."DANGLE BROTHERS" at that.

Hanging out, we had the best times...drinking at Looney's in Baltimore on our days off...tag teaming "*****es" in hotel rooms...even conducting an "Eiffel Tower" or two.

If you have to ask what that is...then you're too close-minded to give it a shot, but I digress.

I created a monster that followed me everywhere and in everything I did.

Hell...I thought I could take my experience in the ring and continue it on with a replacement partner in a deterrent named "Problem Child".

Now, it's fairly obvious from there what happened and it's safe to say that I'm through from a Tag Team standpoint on where I'm going there, regardless of what "The Dogs of War" did to me: That's twice now, that I'd been burned by that team by getting nailed with a chair, once before with Jason Payne in a critical situation that very few people would remember, and then again just recently with McMillan.

Normally this would be the point in the response where I would promise the two of you a measure of a payback, but you see fellas...you, much like "The Exceptions To The Rule"...reminded me of something I wanted to do since I was wee little "Katz"; the reason why I got into this business in the first place.

To make sure I turned out to be THE BEST at what I love to do, and that's WRESTLING.

Like I said....NORMALLY.

But instead I owe you guys a fairly sized "thank you", because now things are CLEAR.

However there is alittle manner of showing gratitude for a the need of company pride.

Men like Jason Payne, Peter File, Felix Red, and Shawn Hart being put to the test along with myself is an eclectic mix really....granted there's afew crazy bastards on myside as well as a whack job, but ya know what they say....

"In order to make an omlette, you gotta break some eggs."

Even if it's against a group of men like the ones on the opposite side.

Fusenshoff, The First, Layne Winters, Sean Stevens...and Jared Wells.

Now..."J-Dubb" aside...let's look at this for a minute.

Layne Winters.

It's never hit me until now that there's alot of Angst and hatred towards society vented that's reminded me of a certain moniker or character name used in "Clerks Two", and no, it's not Jay and/or Silent Bob, hell it's not even as bad as "Pillow Pants" or "Listerfiend".

But now "Pickle F*cker".....that sounds like a name that fits nicely for a guy like Layne Winters.

Sure, you're compensated nicely now and you've got a hell of a career on your hands, even winning the EPW Television title from one of your partners-to-be in the Main Event at the "Sin City Showdown" here in Las Vegas. But who's to say that you weren't violated by a Cucumber or Pickle just as a freshman prank by your High School Seniors?? You're obviously bothered enough now-a-days by petty little things that aren't that much of a use to worry about....I'm just sayin'....take a time out every now and then and have alittle "Layne-Time".

After all...it's not like I'm calling you "Porch Monkey"....don't worry folks...I'm not trying to be racist...I just wanna clarify that I too, am taking it back.

Fusenshoff....

Fusenshoff....nope, I just can't do it.

Fuse, ya know...we've had a match here and there, and lord knows that I try remember a time where we had a fair fight, but I can't.....it's just hard to get used to it.

"Fusenshoff".

"FUSENSHOFF"...no, no I just can't do it.

I can't say the name "Fusenshoff" without immediately thinking of something either similarly incontinent, the "Secret Oktoberfest Festival" from the movie "Beerfest", or something you might be able to purchase from one of the hookers up the street here for about fifty bucks. But I want you to remember two things before we step in the ring sir, and that's that we both understand that this isn't personal between you and me...it's between your partners-to-be that I have a problem with. Secondly...it's not that I have a problem with you chastising my partner that I'm going to team with in afew hours, hell...you can lecture him like "Danny Tanner" for all I care....

(Thirty seconds pass)

Mind you I said "Danny Tanner", not Bob Saget....but think about this: You just told Jason Payne to "take the blinders off", but this is coming from someone who has not only worn "Beer Goggles" for a living, you've managed to change them into CONTACTS.

There's no use in making light of someone else's faults when you have one yourself.

Sh*t, that's just as worse as "The First" looking God knows how old...and wearing MAKEUP.

(Cruise stands up for a second and paces back and forth in the same shadow)

Who the hell would've that I would use competitive banter and segue from one man to another one when the latter is used to using makeup to dress up a pretty much as a WOMAN??

First....where the hell do you get off telling me where I can and can't go?? Where is it granted that you have the power to PREVENT me from making a living doing what I do best?? Hell...if anything, "Pickle F*cker" was right in one thing, at least...you HAVE no pull around here, First. Being OH-FOR-FOUR in title matches oughta tell you THAT much. The fact is, if there's anyone around here that's not wanted First, it's YOU. But I can see where you might think different, I can see where you might be JEALOUS.

You liked the fact that I've been to places like the MGM Grand in Las Vegas, and the Grotto in the Playboy Mansion and Hollywood California, you name it and chances are I've probably done it. Everything I've wanted to do I've done it and with fairly easy momentum over resistance in the last six years, everything except compete for the World Heavyweight Championship. You've had not once, but at least TWO chances to pull off an upset over Sean Stevens and regardless of what happened....you FAILED.

Now...before you Jerks get your She-Ra pull-ups in a wad, allow me fixate your next question:

Why didn't I accept the challenge from the Champion HIMSELF after when I had won the Intercontinental title?? Other than the fact that Sean didn't like the fact that myself and Anthology were TAKING all the spotlight FROM him...it's simple really.

Sean Stevens might be the World Heavyweight Champion...but he doesn't run things around here. Just because he's the World Heavyweight Champion does not mean people have to snap to, just because it's HIM. Besides, we're talking about a man that went from Ivy McGinnis to Chiquita Banana for Cripes' sake.

See Sean, the fact is that I can play into the same game too...the fact is that you told Jason that it doesn't work for him in the fact that Fusenshoff beat him at some point in time within the last five years. Now...

(Cruise stops and sits back down, slouching on the bench and pauses a second to form his words carefully.)

I've never really even seen the two of them pair off and I really don't care if they did....you people seem to remember, Fusenshoff has an Alcoholic addiction that makes the one Rodney King sought help for look like barely a bender-gone-bad.

But let's just say for the moment that it did...who cares??

Fusenshoff was made a slave by Jason Reeves and made his life a living hell...this much is true and believe me when I tell you that there's nothing more pathetic than someone enslaving a drunk against his will, it's just as bad as Volunteering to be the Head CNA at a Nursing Home and then using their talents for your benefitting Profit. That same man who enslaved Fuse as long as he has looked across from me in the ring at least three times and every time I've been declared the man victorious with my arm raised high. That being the case...

If losing to Fusenshoff didn't do much for Jason's resume, then surely you'd have to agree that my dominance over Stalker does something good for my own list of accomplishments, no??

(Cruise sits forward, the shadow covering the top half of his head.)

Shut the **** up, Trips, I'm not done.

You stand there and hoover THAT DIRTY ***** Jared Wells like you would a hose to steal fuel out of the First' gas tank, when you seem to forget something fairly vital to the conversation; I was the one that brought Jared Wells to Empire Pro, not you.

While you lay claim to being "The leader" of Anthology and how great Jared Wells is at this and that you forget that it was because of ME that you even HAVE a following at the moment.

But that's okay Sean, you can HAVE 'EM.

But it's not going to make things any better than where they already were.

You're the World Heavyweight Champion so in this case you ARE somebody...not much of somebody, but somebody nonetheless.

And right now, you've got about seven different red-dotted targets flying around the middle of your forehead, but only one is going to actually KILL you, if not paralyze you, and the fact is the way I'm feeling right now there isn't a sliver of HOPE that's going to stop me, let alone ANTHOLOGY.

But when it comes to putting people like you and the rest of Empire on it's ass, there's nothing better to me than the SIN CITY SHOWDOWN as it's stage and men like "The Boy Who Destroyed The World" on my side.

Boy Team EMPIRE PRO, I hope you boys are ready....because Team NEW ERA is about to give you a REALITY CHECK that you just...won't like.

FADEOUT
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
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(FADEIN: A hallway in the back of the Thomas and Mack Center. The First is standing in front of the camera, now wearing his normal ring gear of a “HOPE” wife-beater and black gi pants. His face isn’t made up and his hair looks soaking wet and is slicked back. In the background Layne Winters paces back and forth, he looks half ready to kill The First or really anyone who’s within striking distance.)

FIRST: Yeah I believe the hype that Empire Pro is the best…Who wouldn’t believe their company is? Who doesn’t win a Super Bowl, come home, and declare their fans to be the best fans from the best city in the world? Who doesn’t think highly of themselves? It’s human nature really…

But the fact is the gap between this company and everyone else is very large…And that’s just the way it is…As for you and New Era…Well I’m not exactly thinking this is the perfect battle to show who’s better or not…See, I just went through a little bit of a fight an hour or so ago…I’m kind of banged up…My friend here…(Winters sneers) he’s had a busy night…And I know that a bunch of guys on your side aren’t one hundred percent…
So to me, this isn’t some grand statement about one company being better than another company…I’m not planning on waving the EPW flag over your broken and defeated bodies…No, what this is…Is 5 men on one side, fighting 5 men on the other side…With a steel cage to make sure it’s nice and brutal…(Points to the bandage over his right eye) they glued this shut…I doubt it’ll hold for the match, was most likely 3-4 stitches when it opened, it’ll most likely get to 10 or 12 by the time you guys are done with me…

It doesn’t matter, because I’m a professional, I do what’s needed to be done, and being a professional normally would mean that I’d have to run you down some more. Have to insult New Era…Have to be all kinds of mean…But not today, no today, professional means I should leave the stage…And well, go make myself pretty (Smiles)…I’m thinking Kefka…He’s become my fallback when I don’t have any better in my mind…
Cause you see, the man behind me…Well this is his first main event on the big stage, and it’s not even just an EPW show, no it’s two companies in a joint venture…And I’m sure he has something to say about all of it…

And Jason…A little warning…He’s not going to be as nice as me…

(First points to the camera and smiles at Winters, who glares back at him…First walks away.)

WINTERS: That, right there, is the Buffalo Bills in face-paint. He’s been to the big show- he LIVES for the big show, but you think he could win it? Just once? I don’t know what they drink in Salem to make this guy allergic to title victories, but whatever he’s got is strong enough to require…(smiles) precision. A hired hand. ME! You think I pal around with this f*cking clown for my own amusement? F*ck no, that’s what Cameron Cruise promos are for. The First wants glory, he wants fame, he wants legend, and to that end…I’m the smartest investment he ever made.

But on this night, I’m Team EPW. Whatever man, EPW, NEW, WFW, NGEN, CSWA, NFW, it’s all the same to me. My checks say EPW, but I give as much of a sh*t as the kid who’s paychecks say McDonald’s or Wal-Mart. You’re not gonna catch me waving the franchise flag any sooner than I’d wear a HOPE t-shirt. Sean Stevens says “Mr. EPW” like it wins him a free f*cking sundae. Tell me your belt shines, tell me you’re first ballot hall of fame, but don’t feed me that “Mr. EPW” bullsh*t, cause it insults what little intelligence I have left. I ain’t ever met a champ who didn’t love the company initials on his belt; if the company’s sh*t, and they’re champ, then that means they’re sh*t too. Go ask the bottom feeders how they feel about their company…or just save yourself the trouble and ask Jason Payne.

That belt makes you but ONE THING, Stevens- a target. And I don’t care what you did to Mike Randalls, or Eli Flair, Rocko Daymon, or Marcus Westcott…it ain’t gonna stop people from taking their shots. After all…did the “majesty of legend” ever stop you from taking aim? Hell, it might cause some to shake when they hold the rifle, but you better f*cking believe that if First doesn’t score a headshot…I WILL. And then we’ll see how proudly you brew the company coffee, you dumb motherf*cker.

Tell you what though, paychecks aside, I’d split Cameron Cruise’s head for free. He sits there saying sh*t like, “I’ve performed in front of Kings, Queens, Princes, and Princesses.” WHAT?! Get the f*ck out of my face with that…what’d you do, tour the Middle East? Did EPW run shows out of Abu Dhabi? The only Queens you performed in front of were Jared Wells and Larry Tact; that or a highlight reel of your promos has put many a court jester on unemployment. How you’re even still relevant in this sport makes me wonder WHO’S ASS I DIDN’T KISS. Seriously Cameron, did you walk in on Dan Ryan having his way with a teenage boy? What well-kept secret ensures the survival of a talentless sh*thead like you? Man, I don’t care how many cub scouts’ tongues you saw stuck in Lindsay Troy’s cunny trap, if I get to you in that cage, I’m performing late-term abortion on your career, whether by jigsaw or hook wire.

(FADEOUT)
 

TSiegel

I spoil things.
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(Fadein, the backstage media room at the Thomas & Mack Center, minus a podium and two hundred chairs that were available for Post-Game News Conferences. Two long tables, however, remain and sitting at one of them is Cameron Cruise, changed over to a pair of blue jeans, a black EPW/New Era SIN CITY SHOWDOWN T-shirt, and black Anarchy-style shades. Though it's not dark in the room, the facial expression on Cruise's face remains unchanged as he sits back for a second in his chair, his arms cross across his chest.

CLAP.

CLAP.

CLAP.

CLAP.)



CRUISE: Congratulations, "Pickle F*cker". You pretty much said everything in which anyone's already said before, including telling YOUR tag team partner for the Main Event something in which I had JUST said prior.

Just like your general method of planning...you're late.

One of the last set of newcomers.

More in likely the last one lately to become involved in the "Anthology versus EPW" episode.

Welcome to current conversation, hell...probably the best thing that you have going for you Layne is that you managed to beat an active drunk for the EPW Television Title, which needless to say isn't exactly a bad way of doing things around this side of the business.

But in no way does it mean you actually INTIMIDATE me.

The fact is, if you want to split my head open then you don't need to look far, kid. I've beaten bigger and BADDER than you could ever be, hell...I nearly BROKE TROY DOUGLAS' NECK in the process of winning the Intercontinental title.

(Cruise holds up his right hand to signal a moment as a beat passes.)

Now, I didn't HAVE to....but I would've had I had the motivation.

But see Troy's never beaten me, so finishing a job like that hasn't been exactly a dire need.

Yeah, I've been overseas Layne, so what??

I'll even let you in on a secret as to why....not because I have to but because if I don't, just like you were when you a small child when you were waved away from an adult conversation...this is something that is part of that contract you signed when you agreed to work for Dan Ryan and Lindsay Troy:

"A Foreign Exchange Policy".

When Dan Ryan had the brilliant idea of making Irishred's life hell, they exchange challenges for each other which were slated mostly for Irishred because Dan Ryan at that point thought that his word could do no wrong. So starting with Akita the Ventriloquist Telepath from Alaska, and Wong-Pei the Circus Trained Monkey Boy from Mongolia, it spurred off other matches that even included "Hans, the Incontinent Viking"...

Which one can only wonder if he was related at all to Olvir, but that's irrelavent at this point.

Irishred made Dan Ryan face "Ling-Long, Japan's Most Famous Double Amputee", and finally after they finished they're little tiff, it was made official.


"Any Empire Pro Employee booked to work for Empire Pro Wrestling must complete at least Eight (8) weeks of International Competition per every contractual year of the Accepted Agreement in said Nomenclature; Refusal or Incompletion of said clause is subject to Termination."

(Cruise smirks)

And you thought you knew what it took to get to the top of this company, shame on you sir.

Now....you might be wondering to yourself....

"Self!! How the PISS!!! Does CAMERON ****ING CRUISE know this??"

Simple, Winters....you can start by being FALSELY accused of being part of the Klu Klux Klan, but as far as the rest of it....

(Cruise cuts himself short)

Hell, you're young; do the work yourself.

While you're doing that I'm gonna prepare to make you look worse than the clown you apparently have no problem hanging out with, why??

Because that's a REALITY CHECK that you just...won't like.

FADEOUT
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
Jul 3, 1997
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(FADEIN: LAYNE WINTERS leaning against his black Hummer H2, wearing jeans, black tank top, and backwards Seahawks cap)

WINTERS: Leave it to Cameron Cruise to turn WAR GAMES into the f*ckin' Special Olympics. You wanna talk reality check? OK then...REALITY CHECK NUMBER ONE: the next time you wanna ape Stevens and play the dick measurement game, DO NOT CITE WINS OVER TROY DOUGLAS. Or as he's come to be known in the Cruise household: SANTA CLAUS. That motherf*cker gift wrapped you so many titles, he should come to the ring in a sleigh led by reindeer the next time you face him.

Troy Douglas may have earned his way in this sport, but let's be honest with ourselves: when you beat him, the guy had already put in for early vacation. Hell, he was probably day-dreaming about ice fishing in Alaska while you Reality Check'd him. You beat a man who, frankly, had better things to do. Unlike him, I'll be more than happy to hurt you, Cameron; and hurt you I will.

REALITY CHECK NUMBER TWO: "Almost" breaking someone's neck before choosing consciously to spare him, does NOT bolster your case. All it does is confirm what I already knew- that you're just a giant p*ssy. Next time, MAN THE F*CK UP...you little f*cking worm you.

REALITY CHECK NUMBER THREE: Reciting five years of EPW history makes me wish you were the f*cking Highlander...so I could kill you multiple times. My biggest fear is that beating you senseless is going to be a huge letdown; it'll never live up to the idea.

You think I care what Dan Ryan was doing to Irishred at the beginning of the decade? Man, I had better sh*t to do; I don't go to the University library to conduct historical research every time I wanna cut a promo. All I need to know about your sh*tty little past, is that somewhere along the line you caught Dan Ryan plowing a Cub Scout, and now he owes you for life. It's the only possible explanation for your enigma of a career...and by enigma, I mean F*CKING TRAVESTY.

And ANOTHER THING...

You've wrestled international? Congrats, assh*le, so have I. I've wrestled in Japan, in England...but I damn sure don't remember Emperor Akihito showing up ringside. I also failed to catch a glimpse of Queen Elizabeth in the balcony at Wembley.

But hey, I'm just Layne Winters...apparently I don't have the kinda pull Cameron Cruise does, where international royalty CLEARS THEIR F*CKING SCHEDULE TO WATCH HIM REALITY CHECK PEOPLE...YOU DUMB F*CK! Yeah, Queen Noor's got season tickets to Aggression, and the House of Saud are big subscribers to EPW On Demand. I love this sport as much as anybody, but g*ddamn, what the f*ck do you think this is, moron? A meeting of the United Nations Security Council? In this economy, we're struggling to sell out Vegas venues...not quite the level of putting on private shows in St. Petersburg for the descendants of Tsar Nicholas II. And if WE WERE...CAMERON F*CKING CRUISE wouldn't be allowed within 50 yards of the f*ckin' building! So write a reality check on THAT.

And let me tell you, I ain't a homophobe, and I understand the breakup of the Dangle Brothers has you with few other options, but if you wanna force your pickle/cucumber/zucchini fetish on somebody...I AIN'T the guy, got it? I swear to Christ, Cameron, I'll retire you so quickly, you'll be on the golf course with your buddy Troy Douglas before you can blink. And then he can spend all day writing you mulligans like he used to do back in wrestling, you f*cking welfare client.

(FADEOUT)
 

BarryClarkJr

DADDY
Joined
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Baltimore, Maryland
(OORP: I'm sorry I have to post tonight. I understand the stacking rules, but I've been waiting a few days to post. I get up at 5am ET to work and get off 5pm ET. Don't piss DADDY off! :p )

(Camera opens up to the basement home of Jared Wells. He happens to be walking around a table wearing flip flops, jeans, and a black Anthology tee shirt. He has one half of the EPW tag titles over his shoulder and drinking a Captain & Pepsi)

JARED WELLS: AHHHH YES! VALENTINE'S DAY is upon ! A day where people celebrate love and affection between each other. Couples who seem to make one day special instead of everyday. I love you today, hate you tomorrow. Couples and married people make DADDY F(BLEEP)KING SICK! Valentine's Day to me is a pointless and worthless day invented by Hershey's Confectionary Company along with florists and wine makers to profit off the dumb lovers along with making single people suffer. There is a reason why DADDY is single and always ready to mingle.

S. Stay. I. Intoxicated. N. Nightly. G. Get. L. Laid. E. Everyday.

(Slaps both hands together and then reaches down to grab his Captain Morgan Rum & Pepsi drink. Takes a long hard swig and slams it down onto the table)

JARED WELLS: Now, I don't want to sound bitter about the month of February or Valentine's Day. Daddy is a compassionate, caring person. EPW & NEW ERA present SIN CITY SHOWDOWN in Las Vegas. EPW VS NEW ERA IN A WAR GAMES MATCH! It would be silly for me to be angry at a time like this so I've invited TEAM NEW ERA to my home this evening to have a little fun. Ladies and gentlemen I give you The Dog Of War JASON PAYNE, The Sultan Of Twat PETER FILE, SHAWN JESSICA HART, FELIX RED, and last but not least CAMERON CRUISE!

(Camera pans back as it shows a poker table, lit cigarettes, beer cans, and five impostors sitting around dressed up poorly as each member of TEAM NEW ERA. Jared walks over to his mini bar with his back turned to the camera and table, pours himself another drink. He picks up one half of the EPW Tag Titles and places it over his shoulder. Turns around slowly starring at all the impostors around the table. Stirring his drink slowly, he continues to look around in dead silence at everyone. He takes one more huge swig, places the drink down on the bar and grabs a jar full of candy which looks to be candy hearts. He stares at everyone with the jar full of candy hearts, then extends the jar out to the first person)

JARED WELLS: How about you Peter File? Have a heart? Read it and share with everybody will 'YA?!

(Impostor Peter File reaches out and grabs a green candy heart. He looks at it nervously and reads it)

IMPOSTOR PETER FILE: Jizz?

(Impostor Peter File then takes a lick of the green candy heart)

IMPOSTOR PETER FILE: Yep!

(Jared then grabs a fold up chair and places it behind Impostor Peter File. Having a seat he slowly right behind the impostor, he slowly moves his head forward towards the back of his head in a cynical way)

JARED WELLS: Peter File. The Sultan of Twat are we now these days? I almost felt worry for you over the years. Peter File would be booked as if it was a big deal, but in the end would be a huge disappointment with confusion. Let's face it, people would confuse you with being a pedophile. BUT HEY! DADDY IS A PROFESSIONAL HERE! I never thought of you as a pedophile. People consider me a male whore. You think I'm upset? F(BLEEP)K THAT! Look, the bottom line is your nothing in my world. As long as I've been in this business you've done nothing, made no money, your a joke. The entire "THE SULTAN OF TWAT" is just a coverup of your lavish sick lifestyle. The word TWAT makes you seem cool to you but in reality all we are talking about is VAGINA. Don't be scared. If your scared say your scared. I'm gonna knock the dust off your TWAT once and for all.

(Jared then stands up along with the candy jar, slowly looks around and looks over to the impostor SHAWN HART. He reaches over and asks him to grab a piece. Impostor Shawn Hart reaches over and grabs a pink candy heart)

IMPOSTOR SHAWN HART: Tea bag?

(Jared then picks up the chair from where he was sitting and places it behind impostor Shawn Hart. He takes a sip of his drink and does the same thing as he did with impostor Peter File)

JARED WELLS: Exactly! Tea bag. The act of squatting over a suspecting victim and placing your scrotum in the mouth. Hilarious isn't it? Shawn Hart, you've been doing this for years and for some reason people love it. I will give your career all the credit for always being a step ahead, always being edgy. Your an old bastard like myself but I still don't like you and I still think you wear a thong. If somebody told me to reword a rap song about the history of Jared Wells and Shawn Hart it would go a little something like this...........(CAUGH, CAUGH)

Found a poopie now in your diaper, but tell me where the
F(BLEEP)K YA found an anorexic wrestla.

Talkin 'bout who YA gone squabble wit and who ya shoot.

You're only 60 pounds when your wet and wearin' boots.

(SHOUTS) Damn J, they tried to fade you on Hart Day

But SHAWN HART only meant DADDY'S pay day.

All of a sudden SHAWN HART is a G thang, but on his
old album covers he was a she thang.

(Jared then shoots up from the seat, and moves it over behind of impostor JASON PAYNE)

JARED WELLS: NEXT!! How about you flock of seagulls? The DOG OF WAR HIMSELF! Go ahead and pull yourself a piece of candy heart, "DAWG"

(Impostor Jason Payne reaches into the jar and pulls out his piece)

IMPOSTOR JASON PAYNE: Dingleberries!

JARED WELLS: You said it well brother. Ah yes, Jason Payne you've been around forever like most around here. Yes, I do know who you are but I don't know what you've done and I'm sure what you've done didn't amount to anything that DADDY has done in the fifteen years he's been here. To be honest with you, every time I listen to you I think of an old musky stench attributed to a grandmother, throw in some stale cigarettes, cat urine, WELL HELLO JASON PAYNE! You sit there and think about the days you're never going to have back. Let's face it, your lucky to even be in this match yet alone stand across the ring from DADDY. Welcome to the REAL BIG PICTURE Jason Payne, you've done nothing to deserve your spot. Dingleberries you say? You dangle freely like wind chimes in the ass of NEW ERA. Remember that.

(Jared shoots up once again and goes towards the IMPOSTOR FELIX RED)

JARED WELLS: Go ahead there playboy, pick yourself a heart will YA?

(Impostor Felix Red pulls out a pink heart)

IMPOSTOR FELIX RED: This one says BE MY WET SPOT?

(Jared then places his chair behind the impostor and does his thing)

JARED WELLS: Felix Red. What can I say now that I haven't said a million times in the past? Your a champion for all the right reasons. You've been there done that. I've been there done that. But there is one thing that you can check off on your list that I'm better at. Being a LEADER. My friend L.O.V.E was a great time but it doesn't even compare on the level of ANTHOLOGY. Guess who created L.O.V.E.? You did. Guess who created THE ANTHOLOGY? I did. Who won? It'll be easy breezy watching you fail to manage TEAM NEW ERA slash WFW slash BLOW ME. I invite your creepy ass on down once again and let DADDY show you how to manage a team.

.....NOW! I thank you all for coming tonight. Drive safely and............

(Jared turns his head looking at everyone and forgetting one person. In slow motion Jared then turns his smile into a cynical look slowly grabbing the candy jar. This time he doesn't move his chair and is directly across from the Impostor Cameron Cruise. He pushes the jar towards his face. Impostor Cameron Cruise grabs his piece)

IMPOSTOR CAMERON CRUISE: POSER?

(Jared then sits back down directly across from the impostor, grabs his drink, takes a big gulp, then leans on the table)

JARED WELLS: Poser. One who pretends to be someone whose not. I introduce you to Cameron Cruise back in 2004. This guy for some reason kept calling me left and right. He left me more messages than you could imagine. Between 2004 and 2005 what was the hottest thing going in wrestling? L.O.V.E. Even beyond that he was still calling me and leaving voice messages. Even somehow got my cell phone and started texting me. Once WFW closed doors, I was hoping to finally retire but this guy kept calling me left and right like a stalker. I took sometime off and finally gave this guy a chance. I'll never forget flying him into Bel Air, Maryland. I paid for his flight and limo up north in Maryland. Of course I've heard of Cameron Cruise around this time but I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. Long and behold this mother F(BLEEP)KER shows up in tight jeans, a terrible tee shirt, and velcro shoes. I remember when I looked you in the eye and told you that you better take your ass to the mall to get a pair of flip flops. I'll never forget telling you that if you want to make money, be a winner the rest of your career, FOLLOW ME. Cameron Cruise, you wouldn't be S(BLEEP)T if it wasn't for me. It's not my fault the girls thought you came off as a gay in the bars when we went out. One thing I've realized is that your no leader, but a follower. You wouldn't be where you are if it wasn't for JARED WELLS. Remember the phone call about even starting up ANTHOLOGY? Who was it that said THE ANTHOLOGY sounds like a great name? I told you it was a collection of the greatest wrestlers in the past decade. You didn't agree. WHY? Because you knew you didn't qualify as being elite. You knew deep down inside you were just a tag along. Me beating your ass was the best thing ever to happen to your career. People "THOUGHT" you were the leader of ANTHOLOGY. Let's face it, they don't know who's real baby it was. I DO! I already gave you a reality check, it's just a matter of time when you realize it means smashed hopes and dreams. Daddy owns you.

(Jared then stands up and looks around the table)

JARED WELLS: From Jason Payne boring me, Shawn Hart wearing thongs, to Cameron Cruise actually becoming a man. Nobody would have ever thought I would team up with The First, Layne Winters, Fusenshoff, and the EPW World Heavyweight Champion Sean Stevens. WINNING. Point me out in a crowd and what would I say?

I've been WINNING for fifteen years.

I have hair on my balls.

The end.

(FADEOUT)
 

ShawnHartXXX

The Phenom
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
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Say Wha?

FADE IN:

NEW Champ and EPW Intercontinental Champ SHAWN JESSICA HART, PhD is standing before a microphone in his personal recording studio. After removing his designer shades and inexplicably massaging his abs through the opening of his pleather vest, he steps up close to that microphone and speaks.


SJH: "Hey now, hound dawgs! It's me, It's me... the jiggiest JACKHOLE ya ever did see! Rockin' more gold than a pawn shop - ya step t'me and you're gonna get DROPPED..."

Grin.

SJH: "Aaaaand I couldn't help but notice that the nefarious Jared FAILS has attempted to hijack my RHYMING monopoly!"

The Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister shakes his head in disgust.

SJH: "I mean, I WAS gonna come in here today and drop some science about the utter ASININITY of this War Games match, what with me being FORCED to team with all of my WORST enemies in the sport, while all the men I RESPECT the most are on the opposite team... And how it would have been EXPONENTIALLY HOTTER if New Era and Empire brass would've just SACKED UP and given all the Hart-Broken Phenom Fiends what they wanted, i.e. a shot at SEAN STEVENS himself, TITLE VERSUS TITLE! But alaaaaaaaas, the Dangle DOUCHE has spoken, my hand has been FORCED.... so HERE for your listening pleasure is a rebuttal so ROCK-rhymin' and BIG-TIMIN' that it will blow your mind AND your wad."

CUE UP: Another dope beat.

SJH: "Check it out.."

He puts his headphones on and pulls the microphone to his lips.

SJH: "Yo it's the SUPERSHOW up in SIN CITY-
And I'm BUSTIN' SHOTS like Frank Nitti.
I'm the PHENOM, kid, rockin' multiple titles.
I got gold on my waist and B(FCC)TCHES for miles.

But I ain't gettin' featured, I ain't gettin' SHOWED-
What with that Jared FAILS and the War Games fold!
They all stealin' my spotlight, n' stealin' mah FLOWS.
I be gleaming like DIAMONDS, they be suckin' like HOs.

It's not what the fans want, it ain't their prescription.
Sharing the spotlight ain't in my description.
The crowd wanted ME in all of my glory.
North and South, East and West, Coast to Coast like George Noory.

It's all good though, I'm not one to complain.
I'll KICK ASS and win sh(FCC)t DESPITE my disdain.
And prove you're all PLAYED, n' prove I'm the BEST.
N' fly to the TOP with an S on my chest!

But it don't stand for SUPER, it stands for SHAWN!
Your asses are GREEDO, I'm blastin' like HAN.
It's a Sin City SPECIAL. It's five versus five.
A WAR where only the FITTEST survive.

I may not like it, I got stakes on BOTH sides.
But here comes the HART THROB; ya best open wide.
I'll run this b(FCC)tch anyway, It's just how I do!
Since you stole my rhymes, Jared.. I'm startin' with YOU!

And then it's the rest, even my FRIENDS!
Team Empire Pro is meetin' its END!
What can I say though? It's just my M-O.
Birthed from the vag for stealin' the show!

I'm the number one stunner; COOL a la carte.
Big Wheeler, BELT stealer, PHAT Shawn Hart!"

He does a 360 turnabout move.

SJH: "Puh-puh-puh-PEACE!"

FADE OUT.
 

TSiegel

I spoil things.
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(Fadein, Cameron Cruise in black jeans and a blue pay per view T-shirt with matching Anarchy-style shades, in front of a temporary EPW/New Era backdrop.)

CRUISE: How...about...that.....sh*t.

After all the lines of BULLSH*T spewed forth out of Layne's mouth I can actually say that Layne was right; He DOESN'T have the pull that I do, around here.

It's called VETERAN COMPANY STATUS, "Pickle F*cker".

While I might not have had very many chances at becoming the World Heavyweight Champion in the last six years, knowing the by-laws of the company kind of helps you get around when you need to; it's not "going to the University library to conduct historical research", it's COMMON KNOWLEDGE.

But then you would know this like I do, if you were HERE.

The fact is though "Pickle F*cker", I'm honestly not that worried about the economy in the sense that we're trying to sell out a Las Vegas venue, hell...I've HEADLINED Las Vegas before, so Vegas will sell out just by itself.

As far as Sean Stevens is concerned, if you could stop offering him the reach-around for a minute you would realize that I'm NOT SCARED OF HIM. The fact that I cited Troy Douglas as a source of anything impressive is that outside of Rocko Daymon surviving a Three-Story Swan Dive out of a window, there isn't one, NOT ONE man who's done anything as impressive as my NEARLY ENDING HIS CAREER VIA PARALYSIS.

Hell, not even YOU, Pickle F*cker. "Almost" breaking Troy's neck means that I stopped short of it because I had no reason to GO THROUGH WITH IT.

I got what I wanted, I won the EPW Intercontinental title.

I already beat him a dozen times before so why should I bother taking him out COMPLETELY?? Or were you hoping that I might have ANOTHER thing to lord over your demented carcass??

Triple X hasn't done anything REMOTELY IMPRESSIVE to me other than hang on to that title as long has he has, and believe me when I tell you I'm preparing very quickly to remedy that fact.

But this upcoming match comes first and right now....is not a time in which you want to spend time going after me, Winters, because there isn't an ounce of "Green River Justice" that's going to stop me from getting done what I want to do.

One of which is showing Jared Wells how much of a Daddy he's NOT.

First of all, let's think about for a second what you have in your possession.

The EPW Tag Team Championship.

I, myself...am the only member of the EPW Roster LEFT that's at least been a TWO-time EPW Tag Team Champion and you Jared....YOU DIRTY BITCH...don't even DESERVE that belt. Hell, if anything I should be a THREE-time Tag Team Champion because after all that was said and done it was ME who single-handedly sealed the deal for you to even be DECLARED Champion. Now...here in just under two months from now, it'll be a year in which you've had those titles and you haven't even shown me one bit of gratitude towards doing what I did.

Or even bringing you to Empire Pro to begin with.

See Jay-Dub....I didn't know that had I looked more into it than I did before I called you to come to EPW, I'd have known that along with drinking that you were SMOKING CRACK ON THE SIDE. I could've given you the hook up and talked to Crimson Calling for you and gotten you a steal on some apparently GOOD Jamaican Lamb's Wool, but then again....I wouldn't know whether or not it's LEGIT.

But back in 2004 I was already busy doing what I did LAST year with someone BETTER than you in the Legendary Joey Melton, hell....we won the ENN Tag Team of the Year then, so you might wanna re-think all those times you got hungover and had three-somes with Betty Bangkok and her "Booger Diggin'" sister, Sayonaratoyokakindoggies.

If you've been winning for the last fifteen years, then right up until just before WFW closed were you ran outta GAS.

I brought you to EPW because I saw what you could do, Jared, BAD title or not, and I knew you'd be a tough out if you came out here.

But you didn't pan out as well as I thought you would, did you??

Hell no, in fact...if memory serves...other than one or two occasions, since you've been to Empire I think I've had to bail you out of trouble just about EVERYTIME OUT.

So you know what I think, Jay-Dub??

I think when the bell rings, that you need a rude-awakening and unless you don't show up or have someone else do your work for you....Cameron Cruise is going to be the one to give it to you.

THAT is a REALITY CHECK that you, EPW's BASTARD SON....just...won't like.

FADEOUT
 

The Great Eye

I came to cut you up
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Defining Failure

(FADEIN: The First, somewhere in the back of the Thomas and Mack center. Face painted in his black and white Kefka pattern. Same outfit as last promo.)

FIRST: Yeah, Shawn is pretty much a political prisoner, sorry man...Business does things like this to us...Some crazy promoter tells you to fight your best friend, well you gotta do it...Just the nature of the beast...

But while that annoys me, and knowing that my efforts to help my team to victory will only fuel the megalomaniacal ego of Triple X...Disgusts me...Yet I accept all of this quite willingly...For I do get something out of the deal...

I get to beat the hell out of Cameron Cruise...

See Cammy, when you laid me out with help from Copycat, when you cut your promos about how you beat me fair and square, when you ducked Triple X's challenge for a title Vs title match, I really didn't think you could do anything more to piss me off. I really didn't think you had anything left to offend me with.

I was very wrong...

See as I was stumbling out of that ring at Aggression 50, having been denied my dream...Now I can complain about Trip taking the easy way out...But you know what, I know what I signed up for when I agreed to a match with him...I know I have to pin the champion or tap him out to win the belt, and he knew that too...He wants to get himself disqualified to save his title, that's up to him, and really, I failed in the sense that I couldn't stop him from doing it...

But after that match was all over...You hit that ring...And well...You had to pick up the EPW World Title Belt and start parading around with it like you earned it...

And I look up and see you holding that belt, and the headplate still has a smear of my face paint on it...And it also has a streak of my blood on it...And I think what I gave for over thirty minutes to win that title...And while Trip's actions at the end were...Well...That of desperate man seeking to save his title...He fought tooth and nail to keep that belt...Yet there you were, thinking a couple of cheap shots really earned you the right to hold that belt...

That just sickened me...You've always been a punk Cruise....You must have been a saint in past life to explain all the good karma you have going for you...How you manage to get armies of men to decide to follow you...How you stumbled into such fortune...Fact is Cruise, if Triple X hadn't kicked your ass, you wouldn't have anything going for you at all, you would have been busy not leading Anthology for the last few shows and busy getting your guts stomped out by HOPE...But you get bailed out by Trip deciding he wanted an army for himself, by the fact that Anthology saw the writing on the wall and cast their lot with Trip to cling to being relevant and important in the HOPE era of EPW...

And so there you are, parading around with the EPW World Title belt like a kid at a carnival who's dad just won him a toy and handed it to him...You had no meaning, no importance in EPW after Russian Roulette, you mattered not a damn bit, but Triple X and Jared Wells...They threw you a life-line...They saved your career my laying your ass out...

See Trip loves to complain about me making a career out of name-dropping him, loves to say I've done nothing...He enjoys denying the reality that I'm about the only guy he hasn't made retire or cut a weeping promo about how awesome he is, or both...Yet you, you're the one living off the fact that he bothered to kick you in the head and send you on your way out of Anthology...

You shouldn't have Reality Checked him and Wells, you should have thanked the two of them...Cause they are the only reason anyone gives a damn about you...

And yet here you are, trying to cut to the head of the line...Well if you didn't notice, I've been putting out brushfires in HOPE with people wanting to get a crack at the big belt...And I see what's going on with guys like Fusenshoff scoring big wins and moving up the ranks...I know my window of opportunity is closing. I know Black Dawn is my last chance at being EPW World Champion...And to hell with you meddling with that.

See, Russian Roulette, I tried to get myself into a match I didn't belong in, and well...Felix Red sent me to the hospital...This time you're trying to be involved in something you shouldn't be involved in...And lucky for me, I get to take care of you personally...And give Felix another punch in the face for his troubles...

Oh and fighting in front of Kings and Queens?! They are but figureheads...I stood victorious in the arena before Ceasar, ruler of the Roman empire...I returned from war to the salute of Pharaoh...Both King...AND GOD...And these were men and women who truly did rule the world...Truly held sway over the lives of others...You're pathetic...And in the steel cage at War Games...The farce that is Cameron Cruise will finally meet a merciful end...

(FADEOUT)
 

LQJT86C

Where's my money, Chad?
Joined
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Re: Defining Failure

(FADEIN: LAYNE WINTERS standing against the brick wall behind a local Seattle brewery)

WINTERS: What do you want from me, Cruise? You lookin' for a little respect? Recognition for some feat you think you accomplished? You want me to treat you like a Japanese cow, massaging and settling you into a comfort zone before you're slaughtered into kobe beef? Maybe pass you a beer, with a little pat on the back...."Don't worry about a thing Cammy, you're the greatest, man. When I was a kid, I used to dream about being a 12 year journeyman who stumbled into a couple of Troy Douglas' titles along the way...just like you! I'm gonna have tears in my eyes as I whisper 'I love you' before I hit you with Green River Justice." Well that's all good except for one little fact, Cruise, one tiny proviso... YOU'RE A G*DDAMN IDIOT!

An idiot...who can't wrestle to save his life...and that's a dangerous combination. Dangerous for you because, while I'm not a learned man, you'll find my ring IQ is in the ivy league, and my talent level is such that you'd better doublecheck the EPW health plan, to see if it covers all the sh*t I'm gonna do to you. You ain't Troy Douglas, and I SURE AS HELL ain't you...in my world, mercy ain't in the dictionary.

Pickle F*cker...what's that supposed to be, a joke? You trying to be FUNNY Cruise? Is that like German humor, where it's funny 'cause it don't make any f*cking sense? I'd tell you to stick to your day job, but you're terrible at that too. Now I don't know where you get this "giving Stevens a reach around" bit from, but if you'd clean the stupid out from between your ears and listen to my promos, you'd know I disrespected Sean Stevens worse than I've disrespected any man: I COMPARED HIM TO YOU! The only reach around Stevens is gonna get from me, is when I reach around to pull his head clean off his shoulders, and the belt clean off his waist; that is, if The First can't do it, which is becoming more and more likely by the day.

Now don't go thinking I'm sticking up for Stevens when I say this, 'cause it's more me sticking up for COMMON F*CKING SENSE, something I seem to be doing every time I address you...but Stevens is the WORLD CHAMP. Something you'll never know anything about in EPW, unless Troy Douglas somehow gets it. I don't like Stevens, I don't respect him, I don't give a good g*ddamn about him...but when you say "What has he done except hold onto the title" it makes me wanna smack you in your stupid Cameron Cruise face. Motherf*cker, THAT'S ALL HE HAS TO DO. What else is there? Sh*t, I don't know about you Cammy, but my goal in EPW is to get the title and hang onto that f*cker longer than Jared Wells held onto your waist while he pumped your vagina with the Dangle Brothers...which is a pretty long f*cking time.

Cameron Cruse has so much pull in EPW that THEY DIDN'T EVEN WANT HIM ON THEIR F*CKING TEAM. For a man whose done so much to impress, including scoring a pinfall over Troy Douglas while he was on mental vacation...they sure jumped at the chance NOT TO draft you. Instead they went with the World Champ, the TV Champ, the former TV Champ, your ex-boyfriend, and Jim Kelly. Face it, the only pull you have round here is Dan Ryan's pud when he makes you beg him to sleep on the couch, aka stay in the company.

Don't talk to me about feats, boy, I crippled half the locker room on a whim...the f*ck you think I'll do to you in a cage? Write this down: Layne Winters is the most DANGEROUS man in EPW. KNOW IT. Or I WILL teach you...

(FADEOUT)
 

NotorisSTD

League Member
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go psycho much?

(CUEUP: “Gray Death” by Xiu Xiu…)

(CUTTO: Early evening, in middle of nowhere woodland Vermont…Felix Red, snuggled up in a baggy black hoodie, stares into a camp fire, wide eyed, expressionless…pretty weird, man. Preeeety kinda…strange.)

FELIX: They say I’ve gotten lazy, I’ve gotten jaded, that I’m not hungry anymore…That I’m a multi-time world champion, I’ve accomplished as much in wrestling as I’m going to...that maybe I’m not as invincible as I’ve been telling myself, that years of constant physical and chemical abuse has taken its toll…the bulb that burns twice as bright burns for half as long, and nobody’s surprised that I’m starting to dim before I’ve hit 30…

But that’s okay, because to the total shock of everyone who’s ever met me, I made some halfway decent investments, and if I want, I can chillax in my little mansion, eat mushrooms and wander around the woods, have long, engaging conversations with the raccoons who eat my garbage…I could find something else to do with myself. Maybe become a painter or a sculptor. Meet a nice girl who abhors violence and won’t know I’ve ever been a pro wrestler or a maniac until I tell her. Have a brat or two, and stick around through all their little tribulations, so as to not create anymore boys and girls who destroyed the world.

Maybe it’s best to live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse. Maybe I don’t really want to die from shooting smack directly into my cerebellum by sticking syringes in both my eye sockets live on PPV after all.

Except that’s exactly what I want. Except that’s the one thing I’ve never wanted. Except what I want doesn’t always determine the course of my destiny.

The truth is, there is no truth, but whether or not I’m as played out as people keep telling me I am, that’s not the reason I’ve been keeping a low profile lately. The reason I’ve been keeping a low profile, is because I can barely stand the thought of you people anymore.

I mean, seriously, can you hear yourselves? Any of you?

I’m not even going to bother keeping track of who’s on my team and who my opponents are. I truly don’t care. From the bottom of my heart, from the blackest nether regions of my soul, and from whatever part of me still has the capacity to aspire for something better….I…HATE all of you.

I've never even wrestled for NEW, and my feelings toward EPW aren’t exactly a secret – joint left a bad taste in my mouth - but it’s not like EPW will magically go away, or I’ll get back the time I wasted working there, if I could only slash both of the First’s ankle tendons, then rape him with one of the severed arms I rip off Jared Wells…

It kills me, because really, we all kind of like having adversaries. That we have enemies, something to combat, it makes us important. It’s the people you used to trust, the people you used to think of as friends. When they betray you, they’re the ones you hate most of all. I hate the First more than I hate Hitler…And I’d almost certainly feel differently if I had ever met Hitler, but that never happened.

That’s my thing….I know the First….I hung out with him…We waxed philosophical about Skinny Puppy and KMFDM records…I let him borrow my Jhonen Vasquez comics…I tried to help him out with his girl problems…These people cheering him, as if he’s wrestling’s non-threatening but still brooding answer to Robert Pattinson…That he can rescue the EPW belt from big meanie Sean Stevens…They don’t know him like I do.

It’s not that he’s this awful person who thrives on the suffering of others, or anything. He’s just a little b!tch.

It’s one thing to make fun of the cool kids behind their backs because you know they’re idiots, that even though they call you names, you’re better than them. It’s another thing to make fun of the cool kids when, deep down, you’re just jealous that you’re not one of them.

And that’s what really, really bothers me about the First….He doesn’t whine all the time because he really, deep down, believes Sean Stevens shouldn’t be EPW champ. He isn’t painting his face like the Crow and coming out to “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day because he really feels there’s been some massive institutional injustice that’s kept him from fulfilling his destiny of rising to king f(bleep)king poo-bah of Empire Pro…

Really…The First got bullied in high school, discovered the masturbatory museum of Suicide Girls Dot Com….got hit in the head with a couple of chairs….And now he thinks he knows something about pain…

And that’s the most tragic thing of all about the First. He doesn’t really hate Sean Stevens. He just wishes he was Sean Stevens. And if he thinks throwing a close friend and ally under the bus will bring him closer to that goal, then, well, man’s got to do what a man’s got to do, right?

As for me, hey, maybe I don’t really know all that much about pain, either. But I do know that if I ever turn into Sean Stevens, I actually will kill myself. But I’d take the First out with me, just for the sake of poetic justice.

And is it weird that even I realize I’m starting to sound bitter? With my world titles, and hundreds of thousands and maybe millions of dollars and countless fans and so on? With all the bodies I left lying, all the women I’ve victimized, all the bars I’ve closed, all I’ve gotten away with…the brain cells went away. The insecurity went away. I have been validated, vindicated. I am a special, unique, snowflake. I am a superstar.

And I hate all of you.

More than ever…more than when maybe I had a reason…EYE…HATE….EVERYONE.

Especially the First, and he’s the closest thing to a worthwhile husk of a human amongst the lot of you. Jason Payne apparently gets really excited about the prospect about intentionally banging 15 year olds. He should kill himself. Sean Stevens gets excited thinking about The First riding his dick, because Sean Stevens is a closet homosexual, but I’m only pointing that out to upset him. There are far, far, better and perfectly worthwhile reasons why Sean Stevens should put a loaded shotgun in his mouth and pull the trigger. Cameron Cruise repeats things he’s seen and movies and TV shows, because that makes him edgy and topical and hipp or something whatever. He should slash his wrists, and lie in the bathtub until he fades away. Jared Wells needs to get his skull busted to pieces like a piñata in an ugly drunk driving episode. Peter File…..(cackles) okay, nobody’s going to disagree with me here, dude needs to die as quickly as possible as soon as possible…

Fusenshoff needs to drink, to his face, 5 handles of the Knot…or 10 handles of the Knot, or whatever it takes to stop his lungs and heart from working. Shawn Hart needs to die from AIDS. Layne Winters…is some guy, who I also want dead pretty much just by association…

But even if any of you agreed with me on this, none of you have a set of testicles, none of you are going to do the job yourselves….And well, maybe I can do this one thing right. Maybe I can help you out…and destroy the world….one more time.

(FTB)
 

Fusenshoff

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Re: Defining Failure

(FADEIN: The First and Muse standing in front of a TV in the back of the Thomas and Mack Center.)

FIRST: You know I heard my dear friend Triple X tell the world he saved his title against me out of mercy for me and for EPW…So we could win War Games…Well here’s the tape of the champ’s mercy…

(They play the video of Stevens cracking First in the skull with the belt causing the disqualification. )

FIRST: Now if you wanted me in tip top fighting shape for this War Games match, would you really have gone that route with the DQ? A belt to my skull...See after this, things got fuzzy for me, I really don’t recall much of anything before seeing Cruise parade around with the belt…

MUSE: Oh it gets worse…

FIRST: But how could it? Stevens said he was just keeping me fresh for War Games…

(The video shows an X-Factor superkick right to the chin of First, sending him sprawling to the mat.)

FIRST: Maybe he thought I needed a spinal re-alignment or something…Maybe this was just an effort to give me some tough love, to focus on the War Games…I mean after all, he did say he was just doing EPW a favor by bailing out on a match he was losing.

MUSE: Maybe this might change your mind.

(The video goes to Stevens hitting the X-Terminator on the EPW World Title Belt, splitting First’s head open.)

FIRST: Oh, wait, he busted he open…A wound I now carry into the War Games, a wound the NE/NGEN folks will exploit without mercy…A would that I’d not have if Triple X had honestly given a damn about EPW winning War Games…But no, all you care about is your belt Trip…That’s all you ever have cared about, and all you ever will care about…So well if I bleed out in that ring and the refs call it off…I’ll apologize to everyone in EPW for letting them down…But this…(Points to the bandage on his forehead) this is on you…

FIRST: Don’t give me the ‘rah-rah I bleed EPW’ bullsh*t…Because tonight I bleed for EPW…BECAUSE OF YOU…I’m gonna suffer a lot of blood loss, all because you can’t handle the fact that I have your number and in a panic you got the match thrown out and then had yourself a little b*tch fit afterwards…

FIRST: And Jason Payne, no I didn’t forget about you, but I kinda wish I had, but honestly, you had complained about EPW’ers thinking we’re the best, buying our hype….Well guess what…This whole damn match has been one unending argument about EPW…You know why? Because EPW matters, it’s the league that everyone wants to be a part of…Your company…What company is even? It broke in half before this event even happened? What tradition does one half of a company that hadn’t been around very long have? None, you’re not fighting for history, or tradition, but rather because some promoter has paid you some money, you’re a mercenary, plain and simple…You have nothing, so all you can do is back-bite and complain.

(Fusenshoff walks into the shot. First and Muse turn and look towards him.)

MUSE: He wants to get drunk tonight. He needs more heartbreaking results in World Title matches and he’ll finally embrace the joys of liver destruction and brain cell murder…I know you’ll find a place for us…Call me.

(She smiles at Fusenshoff and First and Muse walk away. “Good win tonight” First says as he goes into the background.)

Fusenshoff looks pretty tired. He just finished an absolute war with Karl Brown that took both the Whiskey Bomb and The Domination to finally put the match away. There’s one thing glaringly missing from this particular promo. Fusenshoff has a liter of G2 instead of a fifth of Jack Daniels.
He turns to the camera looking pretty cranky.

Fusenshoff: “I am exhausted and ornery. After one of the most challenging matches of my career all I can think about is hops absorbed in a wondrous concoction with suds pouring down the side. Or an ounce-and-a-half glass designed for only one thing; so small yet so tantalizing. I’m so eager I can almost taste it on my breath. I can smell it in my sweat, though that’s probably just a natural occurrence from nearly a decade of inebriation.

“Win or lose, I always head for the nearest bar or spirit shop after a match. Sometimes I’ll even hit up a concession stand in the arena on my way out the door. It’s an acquired skill, drinking in public. Some may think it’s simply a matter of logic, but there are a lot of signals one misses if they haven’t spent years honing their craft. My crafts include the aforementioned pastime and wrestling. My passion for the latter is the only reason I’ve succumbed to the bitter aftertaste of electrolyte-laden faux-H20 right now.

“I’d rather wrestle again tonight than start drinking now. That feels awkward coming off the tongue, to be honest. While I feel like a heroin addict strapped to a bedpost at the moment, the afterglow of a true challenge and the yearning for what’s ahead tonight is even more palpable.

Fusenshoff stops to take a drink. By habit, he brings the bottle to his lips. He takes a look at the Gatorade, cringes and continues talking without wasting his time on the flavored water.

“Over the past few years I’ve come to realize that when people have their heads up their ass then realize their words come out as sh*t, one of two things happen. Either they make some effort at saving face by concocting a rebuttal or they just act like it’s no big deal. The former works on occasion. The latter is the verbal sparring equivalent of playing dead. Everyone knows you’re just being lazy and spineless.

“Jason, you took the b*tchboy way out. The fact is you’ve wrestled someone you’re competing against in the War Games match, you just forgot. You forgot because your name has been out of anyone’s earshot around here for years. And from what Triple X said, you’ve fought two guys in this match that you’re facing.

“Half-assed is the only word that comes to mind, quite frankly.

“Kind of like most of your career. I couldn’t help but laugh at the remark you made, ‘even if I get the crap kicked out of me, I always get right back up, and I get into the next fight.’ Really? Where the hell have you been the last two years then? I know, fighting in Japan, right? Were you up in the Canadian Rockies fighting hard-nosed hosers? Or maybe you’re just talking out of your ass again, saying cookie-cutter crap. You’re going through the routine. In about six months you’ll lose a few matches then drop off into obscurity again for a couple years.

“The battle cry is cute, it really is. It’s cute listening to you puff out your chest and talk to me about mind over matter. If you actually cared, you might know that I’ve made a living out of that mantra. You on the other hand, you haven’t mattered in a long time.”

Fade out as Fusenshoff looks flustered but anxious. Flustered because he can’t drink after his first match, which has been standard protocol for a few years now. Anxious for the match ahead of him tonight.
 
Last edited:

ShawnHartXXX

The Phenom
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Jan 1, 2000
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En Route

FADE IN:

American Airlines Flight 130 - En Route to Las Vegas, Nevada from Los Angeles, California

Sitting in first class amongst the big-time businessmen and upper class socialites is the NEW Champion, LoC Champion, and Empire Pro Intercontinental Champion SHAWN JESSICA HART, who is returning to the site of the Supershow after a quick shot to L.A. for a personal viewing of the new and improved Pee-wee Herman Show at Club Nokia.

As the camera closes onto him, the self-proclaimed "Heavyweight Champion of the Universe" inexplicably begins to sing..


SJH: "Heeeeeeeeeere am I floating round my tin can..... faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar above the moooooooooooon..."

He lowers his head solemnly, closes his eyes momentarily, and then looks out his window into space.

SJH: "Planet Earth is bluuuuuuue and theres NOTHING I caaaan dooooooooooooooo...."

Suddenly, SJH procures a KAZOO from his vest pocket and plays the bridge! Seconds later, an elderly woman of no less than 90 accompanies him with claps. Hart nods at the woman, who winks back at him. The Phenom then returns the kazoo to his pocket and looks into the camera.

SJH: "Heh, have you ever felt like you have a GINORMOUS target on your back?"

He shoots off an inquisitive stare.

SJH: "Like the Gaea spirit of Mother Earth was manipulating the world with all her forces in a cruel and callous effort to conspire against you... to ENSURE that Murphy's law was upheld?"

He wobbles his hands around as if to say, "Well... HAVE YOU?"

SJH: Well that's me RIGHT NOW, nnndaddio. I mean FIRST I'm forced to reckon with that heinous spitf(FCC)ck Sean Edmunds.. and BEAT HIM, but then I'm the one who ends up getting beaten down after the match. Then, several hours later, it's Peter File and a similar in-ring result, but AGAIN I end up being the one that eats canvas after JACKHOLE supreme Adrian Willard decides to impose himself upon me.."

He shakes his head in disgust.

SJH: "And after aaaaaaaall of that, BACK TO BACK nights of noooooooooo protection from the companies I've proudly represented as CHAMPION, you're telling me I have to head into the ring with 6 or 7 MORE guys that want to pound my face?! And two or so others that are only on my side out of convenience?! Out of NECESSITY?!"

Hart raises his hands questioningly to the Gods above.

SJH: "Ooooooooooh weeeeeeeeell, I suppose. C'est la vie when you're me, the one guy in the ENTIRE industry that LITERALLY takes all comers in EVERY corner of the globe with every promotion you can think of...

But ya know what?"

The Phenom rubs his chest sadistically and then returns his gaze to the camera.

SJH: "I'm up to the challenge! Because DESPITE the fact that this thing is a virtual no-win situation for me, I'm here... as I've always been, ready to ROCK OUT with my COCK OUT, to NUT UP or SHUT UP, and prove for the umpteenth time that the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister is a guy that WILL NOT stay down, regardless of the overwhelming odds against him.

I mean, what can I say? It's just how I do.... and really, it's the reason why fans from Tallahassee to Tokyo have embraced me. I know my antics aren't for everyone, but they cheer me nonetheless, because when push comes to shove I put it aaaaaaaaaall out there in that ring like NO ONE ELSE can! Call it a mockery, call it an OUTRAGE, I call it the TRUTH! And the truth of the matter is that at Sin City Showdown, I'm gonna prove ONCE AGAIN why I'm the hottest thing to hit this shinding since the SUN!

Buuuut if you'll excuse me...."

He retrieves the kazoo once more.

SJH: "I've got MUSIC to make!"

The old woman claps in approval.

SJH: "The PHENOM has left the building!"

FADE OUT.
 

BarryClarkJr

DADDY
Joined
Jan 1, 2000
Messages
364
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Age
43
Location
Baltimore, Maryland
Cocaine & Hookers.

(SCENE: The Penthouse suite in The Mirage, Las Vegas. 1:14am)
(Camera opens up to Jared Wells opening up some of his bags that are on his bed. He is wearing flip flops, light blue jeans, and the ANTHOLOGY cutoff tee)

JARED WELLS: Where else can you get laid at one of over 100,000 hotel rooms in the city? Las Vegas. Where else can you get married on a whim at a wedding chapel, then get it annulled two days later? Las Vegas. Cocaine and hookers? Las Vegas. A heavenly place filled with bright lights, famous headliners, friendly lap dances from surgically augmented ladies. DADDY IS HOME AWAY FROM HOME and it feels GOOD.

(Jared stops what he is doing and walks over to the stocked bar in his suite. Helps himself a Captain Morgan and Pepsi)

Don't we have an interesting group of S(BLEEP)T heads arriving into Vegas tonight don't we? I can see Cameron Cruise right now checking into his room without even unpacking and heading to the strip collecting call girl cards from the little mexicans passing them out. God forbid he couldn't pick it up without paying for it. Cruisey will enjoy his night of hookers and call girls just to ease his mind that DADDY is coming for him. What would you do with that hooker? I KNOW! You'll pay the big bucks for her to stay and hold you all night long. Talk about why your not in Anthology or why I don't like you anymore. All you are is a nickel holding up a dollar and you just so happen to be holding DADDY up.

Christ, Shawn Hart will have a heart attack in Vegas. He can dress up in pretty clothes, little skirts, stockings, wear makeup and jewelry without being judged. My GOD, the legend himself Ladyboy Shawn Hart will entertain all in Vegas. You have all the attributes of a woman except the plumbing to show off in Vegas my friend. My only advice to you is when your out there, avoid Cameron Cruise. He's going to think your some sexy girl, invite you back to his cheap ass hotel room and put his hand up your skirt to find 'ol hot dog. Just watch, he'll freak out but then realize it's OK. Shawn Hart, regardless of what you are the fact of the matter is I've never hit a woman in my life, but you'll be the first.

Have ever disliked someone so much that if you and the other person were in an empty room with a knife in the middle, one or both would be dead? HATE? The feeling I get is when I see or hear something I dislike so much I want to kick the S(BLEEP)T out of it. Usually, when I hate someone, I want to hit them with an aluminum baseball bat. Felix Red, it's going to feel pretty F(BLEEP)KING good when I release my hatred on your sad, sappy ass. Like I've always said, violence doesn't solve anything. But in Vegas taking it out on you will feel good.

Jayson Payne can't stop bringing up the past. He talks about his Payniacs which is a party of one. WELL HELLO THERE PETER FILE. Christ. The fact of the matter is this, I'm addicted to winning and I refuse to leave Vegas without Team EPW winning. At all costs I will not let the boy band of NEW ERA share the spotlight with DADDY. Let's face it, nobody comes to Vegas to lose right?

ONE. A rich guy says "Hey man, let's go to Vegas to party, gamble and bang hookers."

TWO. A tourist says "Let's go to Vegas to have a nice vacation and to relax."

THREE. A local resident says "I moved to Vegas because the minimum wage is higher and they pay good money at the casino."

FOUR. An native resident says "Vegas is a nice town especially farther away from the Strip because you get no trouble and live peacefully."

FIVE. Jared Wells says "The only city where I can sleep, have a woman give me oral sex as a wake up call in the morning."

(Jared takes a swig of his drink and puts it down. He holds two fingers up to his nose)

JARED WELLS: TEAM NEW ERA. Smell my smencils?


(...FADEOUT)
 

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