SteelCitySon
League Member
Singles matchup!
"Mr. Main Event" Rob Sampson vs. "Gentleman" Jonathan Marx
- Thread starter SteelCitySon
- Start date
Mr Main Event
League Member
Chapter One
(Starting over is never easy, but that’s the way Rob Sampson liked it anyway. When Empire Pro had contacted him about joining their roster, he signed up on the spot. The thrill of the hunt had always excited him and a new conquest was something he always looked forward to. Empire Pro’s first show was on the horizon and Sampson wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew he was ready.)
RS: A new federation and a new chapter in my career. I see some familiar names on the roster sheet but I see a few new ones as well. I think my time in Empire Pro will be well spent and it seems I’m going to be thrown into the fire right from the very beginning. I’m okay with that. It gives me a chance to show everyone just why the people call me “Mr. Main Event.”
My first opponent: Jonathan Marx. I’ve never wrestled you before, Marx, but that’s why I’m here in the first place. I want new challenges. I think you can provide that quite well given what I’ve been able to find out about you through my research. For instance, I know that you fancy yourself quite the technician. That’s something we have in common because I pride myself on my ability inside the ring. I also know that you like to try to out-pace your opponents and tire them down to make getting a win easier for you. Unfortunately, that just won’t work when you’re facing me. So what is that you can do to defeat me?
Very little.
(Sampson chuckles.)
RS: I can mix it up any way you want to, Johnny, and I’ll still be wrestling rings around you. This business… pro wrestling… it’s my life. I am constantly learning and improving my skills with each and every match. I consider myself a student of the game and that’s what’s brought me so much success over the years. The “Mr. Main Event” moniker wasn’t something I chose; it was bestowed upon me by peers and the fans. That being said, it’s something I take very seriously and try to live up to in every way possible. You, on the other hand, seem to be just getting started in wrestling. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all have to get our start somewhere.
I propose, Johnny, that you look at our match as a learning experience. You get to step into the ring with someone who knows this business inside and out. How great is that? Now I know what you’re thinking: Who does this Rob Sampson guy think he is? Am I right? I could sit here all day and explain to just why I am what I say I am, but I’m going to do you one better and show you that I am much more than hype.
The downside—and there always is one—is that you’ll be the one looking up at the lights in the closing moments of our match. It’s not an easy fate to accept… it may not even be fair… but it is your reality. See you in the ring, kid. I’ll be the one schooling you in the ways of Wrestling 101.
(Fade to black.)
(Starting over is never easy, but that’s the way Rob Sampson liked it anyway. When Empire Pro had contacted him about joining their roster, he signed up on the spot. The thrill of the hunt had always excited him and a new conquest was something he always looked forward to. Empire Pro’s first show was on the horizon and Sampson wasn’t quite sure why, but he knew he was ready.)
RS: A new federation and a new chapter in my career. I see some familiar names on the roster sheet but I see a few new ones as well. I think my time in Empire Pro will be well spent and it seems I’m going to be thrown into the fire right from the very beginning. I’m okay with that. It gives me a chance to show everyone just why the people call me “Mr. Main Event.”
My first opponent: Jonathan Marx. I’ve never wrestled you before, Marx, but that’s why I’m here in the first place. I want new challenges. I think you can provide that quite well given what I’ve been able to find out about you through my research. For instance, I know that you fancy yourself quite the technician. That’s something we have in common because I pride myself on my ability inside the ring. I also know that you like to try to out-pace your opponents and tire them down to make getting a win easier for you. Unfortunately, that just won’t work when you’re facing me. So what is that you can do to defeat me?
Very little.
(Sampson chuckles.)
RS: I can mix it up any way you want to, Johnny, and I’ll still be wrestling rings around you. This business… pro wrestling… it’s my life. I am constantly learning and improving my skills with each and every match. I consider myself a student of the game and that’s what’s brought me so much success over the years. The “Mr. Main Event” moniker wasn’t something I chose; it was bestowed upon me by peers and the fans. That being said, it’s something I take very seriously and try to live up to in every way possible. You, on the other hand, seem to be just getting started in wrestling. There’s nothing wrong with that. We all have to get our start somewhere.
I propose, Johnny, that you look at our match as a learning experience. You get to step into the ring with someone who knows this business inside and out. How great is that? Now I know what you’re thinking: Who does this Rob Sampson guy think he is? Am I right? I could sit here all day and explain to just why I am what I say I am, but I’m going to do you one better and show you that I am much more than hype.
The downside—and there always is one—is that you’ll be the one looking up at the lights in the closing moments of our match. It’s not an easy fate to accept… it may not even be fair… but it is your reality. See you in the ring, kid. I’ll be the one schooling you in the ways of Wrestling 101.
(Fade to black.)
PaulNJ21
I shunned a voodoo witch, decapitated a black cat
Welcome Emperor Marx
::Brandon Jacobs is waiting at the train station for his friend and client Jonathan Marx, holding a big sign “Welcome Emperor Marx” as the train is pulling into the station. The train comes to a stop and Jonathan Marx is one of the first men to step off onto the platform::
BRANDON JACOBS: ::bows to Marx as he gets off the train::
JONATHAN MARX: ::laughs:: Get up Brandon, I’m not Emperor… yet. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. It has been over four months since the GLCW has closed and Domovoi is such a boring conversationalist.
BRANDON JACOBS: What do you expect from that over grown muscle bound ninny?
JONATHAN MARX: All he wants to do is talk about sports twenty four hours a day. I swear, every dollar I give him goes right to his damn bookie.
BRANDON JACOBS: At least you are doing your part to put money back in the economy.
JONATHAN MARX: You can smell it in the air, wrestling is on the verge of a big comeback. People are coming out of the wood work to open leagues and luckily for me I’m part of the grandest of them all.
BRANDON JACOBS: You were raised in a rich family, schooled in the finest schools, and are a patron of the arts. Is there any better man in all of wrestling to lead the Empire all the way to the top?
JONATHAN MARX: Emperor Marx does have a certain ring to it ::strokes chin:: . As champion, I could spread the message of the old school revolution all throughout wrestling and achieve the greatest honor I have ever received since winning FWI’s Rookie of the Year award.
BRANDON JACOBS: Did you bring that with you?
JONATHAN MARX: It is in my bag, I’m having the builders construct a special room for it in my mansion and didn’t want it to be stolen by some working class schmuck who might be tempted to steal it to put their kids through college.
BRANDON JACOBS: That would be the greatest blasphemy since the Mantle family selling off his MVP awards.
JONATHAN MARX: Some people don’t understand that there are some things even greater than money. Take Paris Hilton for instance, she has a million dollar body and is worth a fortune, yet she tarnishes her honor by making her self the subject of ridicule on a reality TV show.
BRANDON JACOBS: It isn’t hard with that five and dime brain in her head.
JONATHAN MARX: Just because you are rich and you wear the finest clothes doesn’t make you sophisticated, the mark of proper breeding starts even before you put your clothes on. Speaking of breeding, I’ve heard that Empire Pro has lined up an opponent who is supposedly worthy of my time.
BRANDON JACOBS: Rob Sampson sir…
JONATHAN MARX: Samson? As in Samson and Delilah? That makes it simple then, all I have to do is cut off his air and it’ll sap all his strength.
BRANDON JACOBS: No, no… SAMPSON with a P. He’s basically an intellectual potless martial arts high flyer who said he would school you on Wrestling 101.
JONATHAN MARX: ::grabs his head:: Oww, my brain hurts. Damn pseudo-intellectuals over running the earth. How can anyone who claims to be an intellectual and knows martial arts be a high flyer? If was smart enough to beat people with his wrestling, he’d simply school them on the mat like I do. If he was good enough at martial arts, he wouldn’t need to be a high flyer if he couldn’t beat his opponent on the mat. Apparently, he wasn’t able to master any one thing so Samspon learned a little bit of each and hoped nobody would catch on.
BRANDON JACOBS: Mediocrity reigns supreme.
JONATHAN MARX: Poor kid is living a lie. Poor uneducated Sampson is one match away from teaching gym in an under funded public school. But I have a feeling I can make the most of this, he’ll be an excellent opponent to mark the birth of Marxism throughout the Empire. Grab my bags Brandon, we are off to train, Mr. Main Event is about to become Mr. Mediocrity.
::Jacobs grabs Marx’s bags and they leave the platform::
FTB
::Brandon Jacobs is waiting at the train station for his friend and client Jonathan Marx, holding a big sign “Welcome Emperor Marx” as the train is pulling into the station. The train comes to a stop and Jonathan Marx is one of the first men to step off onto the platform::
BRANDON JACOBS: ::bows to Marx as he gets off the train::
JONATHAN MARX: ::laughs:: Get up Brandon, I’m not Emperor… yet. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. It has been over four months since the GLCW has closed and Domovoi is such a boring conversationalist.
BRANDON JACOBS: What do you expect from that over grown muscle bound ninny?
JONATHAN MARX: All he wants to do is talk about sports twenty four hours a day. I swear, every dollar I give him goes right to his damn bookie.
BRANDON JACOBS: At least you are doing your part to put money back in the economy.
JONATHAN MARX: You can smell it in the air, wrestling is on the verge of a big comeback. People are coming out of the wood work to open leagues and luckily for me I’m part of the grandest of them all.
BRANDON JACOBS: You were raised in a rich family, schooled in the finest schools, and are a patron of the arts. Is there any better man in all of wrestling to lead the Empire all the way to the top?
JONATHAN MARX: Emperor Marx does have a certain ring to it ::strokes chin:: . As champion, I could spread the message of the old school revolution all throughout wrestling and achieve the greatest honor I have ever received since winning FWI’s Rookie of the Year award.
BRANDON JACOBS: Did you bring that with you?
JONATHAN MARX: It is in my bag, I’m having the builders construct a special room for it in my mansion and didn’t want it to be stolen by some working class schmuck who might be tempted to steal it to put their kids through college.
BRANDON JACOBS: That would be the greatest blasphemy since the Mantle family selling off his MVP awards.
JONATHAN MARX: Some people don’t understand that there are some things even greater than money. Take Paris Hilton for instance, she has a million dollar body and is worth a fortune, yet she tarnishes her honor by making her self the subject of ridicule on a reality TV show.
BRANDON JACOBS: It isn’t hard with that five and dime brain in her head.
JONATHAN MARX: Just because you are rich and you wear the finest clothes doesn’t make you sophisticated, the mark of proper breeding starts even before you put your clothes on. Speaking of breeding, I’ve heard that Empire Pro has lined up an opponent who is supposedly worthy of my time.
BRANDON JACOBS: Rob Sampson sir…
JONATHAN MARX: Samson? As in Samson and Delilah? That makes it simple then, all I have to do is cut off his air and it’ll sap all his strength.
BRANDON JACOBS: No, no… SAMPSON with a P. He’s basically an intellectual potless martial arts high flyer who said he would school you on Wrestling 101.
JONATHAN MARX: ::grabs his head:: Oww, my brain hurts. Damn pseudo-intellectuals over running the earth. How can anyone who claims to be an intellectual and knows martial arts be a high flyer? If was smart enough to beat people with his wrestling, he’d simply school them on the mat like I do. If he was good enough at martial arts, he wouldn’t need to be a high flyer if he couldn’t beat his opponent on the mat. Apparently, he wasn’t able to master any one thing so Samspon learned a little bit of each and hoped nobody would catch on.
BRANDON JACOBS: Mediocrity reigns supreme.
JONATHAN MARX: Poor kid is living a lie. Poor uneducated Sampson is one match away from teaching gym in an under funded public school. But I have a feeling I can make the most of this, he’ll be an excellent opponent to mark the birth of Marxism throughout the Empire. Grab my bags Brandon, we are off to train, Mr. Main Event is about to become Mr. Mediocrity.
::Jacobs grabs Marx’s bags and they leave the platform::
FTB
Mr Main Event
League Member
(Fade in on Rob Sampson standing in front of a nondescript Empire Pro Wrestling banner.)
RS: My God, Marx, did you even try? Did you or your croney do even a little research? Evidently you don’t have a single clue, so let me throw a few your way.
(Sampson leans back against the wall, puts his hands in his pockets, and resumes speaking.)
RS: The only black belt I’ve ever owned is a leather one I bought from Gucci. Where you got the idea that I was a martial artist I have no idea. Oh wait… (smacks forehead) …I use a superkick, so of course I must be a martial artist. Oh, and chops. Chops definitely make me a martial artist. How could a pseudo-intellectual such as myself have ever doubted you, Johnny? I mean, you’re
so much smarter than I am, right?
Oh, and I’m also a high-flyer. I must have forgotten about that. I mean, just because I use the occasional frog splash or flying elbow, I have to be a high-flyer, don’t I? Oh and once in a while I dive onto my opponent when they’re on the floor so that makes me a high-flyer too. Surely… surely you aren’t wrong, are you, Johnny? Nah, couldn’t be. You’re always right…
Right of your damn mind.
(Sampson rolls his eyes.)
RS: That Princeton education you’re so proud of makes you intellectually superior, eh? I suggest you try and get back the money Daddy Marx gave to Princeton because all the education in the world can’t make you smart. You either are intelligent or you aren’t. You’re not even close.
If you study the tapes of my matches, just as I’ve studied yours, you’ll see that each and every component of my arsenal serves a purpose. That purpose? To attain victory. You see, Johnny, I can drive my knee into your face with a Shining Wizard… but I don’t have to. I can rattle your skull with a superkick that’s knocked out bigger men than you… but I don’t have to. I can drop on your head and do even more damage to that inferior brain of yours with the Headliner… but I don’t have to.
I am not hype, Marx. I don’t base my belief in myself based upon my press clippings. Everything I am… everything I’ve ever achieved… I worked hard for. I’ve earned every single accolade bestowed upon me.
(Sampson stands up as the camera focuses in tight on his face.)
RS: The worst thing you can allow yourself to do is underestimate me, Johnny Boy. Marxism is a flawed concept, so it comes as no surprise to me that of course you choose to name your quest for stardom after it. Why? Because just like that concept, you’re flawed. I’ve competed in front of thousands of people world-wide and I’m still here. In the annals of time, my career will have an entire book devoted to it. If you’re lucky, yours will be given a footnote. See ya in the ring, slugger.
(Fade out.)
RS: My God, Marx, did you even try? Did you or your croney do even a little research? Evidently you don’t have a single clue, so let me throw a few your way.
(Sampson leans back against the wall, puts his hands in his pockets, and resumes speaking.)
RS: The only black belt I’ve ever owned is a leather one I bought from Gucci. Where you got the idea that I was a martial artist I have no idea. Oh wait… (smacks forehead) …I use a superkick, so of course I must be a martial artist. Oh, and chops. Chops definitely make me a martial artist. How could a pseudo-intellectual such as myself have ever doubted you, Johnny? I mean, you’re
so much smarter than I am, right?
Oh, and I’m also a high-flyer. I must have forgotten about that. I mean, just because I use the occasional frog splash or flying elbow, I have to be a high-flyer, don’t I? Oh and once in a while I dive onto my opponent when they’re on the floor so that makes me a high-flyer too. Surely… surely you aren’t wrong, are you, Johnny? Nah, couldn’t be. You’re always right…
Right of your damn mind.
(Sampson rolls his eyes.)
RS: That Princeton education you’re so proud of makes you intellectually superior, eh? I suggest you try and get back the money Daddy Marx gave to Princeton because all the education in the world can’t make you smart. You either are intelligent or you aren’t. You’re not even close.
If you study the tapes of my matches, just as I’ve studied yours, you’ll see that each and every component of my arsenal serves a purpose. That purpose? To attain victory. You see, Johnny, I can drive my knee into your face with a Shining Wizard… but I don’t have to. I can rattle your skull with a superkick that’s knocked out bigger men than you… but I don’t have to. I can drop on your head and do even more damage to that inferior brain of yours with the Headliner… but I don’t have to.
I am not hype, Marx. I don’t base my belief in myself based upon my press clippings. Everything I am… everything I’ve ever achieved… I worked hard for. I’ve earned every single accolade bestowed upon me.
(Sampson stands up as the camera focuses in tight on his face.)
RS: The worst thing you can allow yourself to do is underestimate me, Johnny Boy. Marxism is a flawed concept, so it comes as no surprise to me that of course you choose to name your quest for stardom after it. Why? Because just like that concept, you’re flawed. I’ve competed in front of thousands of people world-wide and I’m still here. In the annals of time, my career will have an entire book devoted to it. If you’re lucky, yours will be given a footnote. See ya in the ring, slugger.
(Fade out.)
PaulNJ21
I shunned a voodoo witch, decapitated a black cat
Clueless
::Jonathan Marx and Brandon Jacobs are dressed like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson outside of a brownstown, Sherlock Marx is holding a magnifying glass::
SHERLOCK MARX: How slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! A high ranking wrestler from both the CSWA and GXW has characterized Sampson as a non pot smoking intellectual RVD and I was taken in by his dreadful deceit.
DR. JACOBS: There is not a single bio on record for Rob Sampson in Empire Pro. It is as if he doesn’t exist.
SHERLOCK MARX: But he must exist surely, I’ve seen and heard his rambling interviews where the veins are popping out of his forehead as he defends his own existence.
DR. JACOBS: First off, don’t call me Shirley Sherlock. Remember, I’m Dr. Jacobs.
SHERLOCK MARX: I’m sorry my dear Jacobs. Continue.
DR. JACOBS: I have found something however that may wet your appetite Sherlock. I have before me Rob Sampson’s GXW bio. I pulled a few strings by promising some girls in the front office some tea and crumpets, but I did what was necessary to do the job.
:
ulls the file out of his coat and hands it to Sherlock Marx::
SHERLOCK MARX: Let me see that. Let’s see if Rob Sampson’s records hold up to his claims that he is not who his bio says he is.
DR. JACOBS: Let’s hear the evidence.
SHERLOCK MARX: First off, he wears his long hair in a pony tail and wears a singlet.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: Held the WWW Television Title and EWI Extreme Title…
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: He does a frog splash, plancha, and rolling senton splash.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: And last and unfortunately, he calls himself, Mr. Main Event.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: Indeed, there is no branch of detective science, which is so important so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps.
DR. JACOBS: Sadly, It is like J. Edgar Hoover being caught in a dress and claiming that his wife was merely hemming the dress.
SHERLOCK MARX: Except Mrs. Sampson doesn't wear the lies as well, claiming we are the clueless ones when he is the one living through the identity crisis.
DR. JACOBS: Wrestling's own Sybil.
SHERLOCK MARX: Sometimes he impersonates a martial artist by doing chops and kicks he self admittedly hasn’t been properly trained for. Sometimes he risks breaking his ribs and fracturing his elbow by doing moves like a frog splash or flying elbow when the reward to risk ratio is greatly reduced by taking the air yet he claims not to be an aerialist. I’m waiting for the Empire Pro’s own Hamlet to fall on his sword and end his agony. The poor man doesn’t have a clue who he is and you don’t need to be Sir Arthur Doyle to figure that out.
DR. JACOBS: No **** Sherlock.
::Marx shoots Jacobs a look::
SHERLOCK MARX: Damn Bugger. That isn't proper talk for an Emperor's Magistrate.
::Marx walks off shaking his head::
FTB
::Jonathan Marx and Brandon Jacobs are dressed like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson outside of a brownstown, Sherlock Marx is holding a magnifying glass::
SHERLOCK MARX: How slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! A high ranking wrestler from both the CSWA and GXW has characterized Sampson as a non pot smoking intellectual RVD and I was taken in by his dreadful deceit.
DR. JACOBS: There is not a single bio on record for Rob Sampson in Empire Pro. It is as if he doesn’t exist.
SHERLOCK MARX: But he must exist surely, I’ve seen and heard his rambling interviews where the veins are popping out of his forehead as he defends his own existence.
DR. JACOBS: First off, don’t call me Shirley Sherlock. Remember, I’m Dr. Jacobs.
SHERLOCK MARX: I’m sorry my dear Jacobs. Continue.
DR. JACOBS: I have found something however that may wet your appetite Sherlock. I have before me Rob Sampson’s GXW bio. I pulled a few strings by promising some girls in the front office some tea and crumpets, but I did what was necessary to do the job.
:
ulls the file out of his coat and hands it to Sherlock Marx::SHERLOCK MARX: Let me see that. Let’s see if Rob Sampson’s records hold up to his claims that he is not who his bio says he is.
DR. JACOBS: Let’s hear the evidence.
SHERLOCK MARX: First off, he wears his long hair in a pony tail and wears a singlet.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: Held the WWW Television Title and EWI Extreme Title…
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: He does a frog splash, plancha, and rolling senton splash.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: And last and unfortunately, he calls himself, Mr. Main Event.
DR. JACOBS: Four Twenty.
SHERLOCK MARX: Indeed, there is no branch of detective science, which is so important so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps.
DR. JACOBS: Sadly, It is like J. Edgar Hoover being caught in a dress and claiming that his wife was merely hemming the dress.
SHERLOCK MARX: Except Mrs. Sampson doesn't wear the lies as well, claiming we are the clueless ones when he is the one living through the identity crisis.
DR. JACOBS: Wrestling's own Sybil.
SHERLOCK MARX: Sometimes he impersonates a martial artist by doing chops and kicks he self admittedly hasn’t been properly trained for. Sometimes he risks breaking his ribs and fracturing his elbow by doing moves like a frog splash or flying elbow when the reward to risk ratio is greatly reduced by taking the air yet he claims not to be an aerialist. I’m waiting for the Empire Pro’s own Hamlet to fall on his sword and end his agony. The poor man doesn’t have a clue who he is and you don’t need to be Sir Arthur Doyle to figure that out.
DR. JACOBS: No **** Sherlock.
::Marx shoots Jacobs a look::
SHERLOCK MARX: Damn Bugger. That isn't proper talk for an Emperor's Magistrate.
::Marx walks off shaking his head::
FTB
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