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Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds


The Godfather
Staff member
Mar 17, 1988
Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds

Roleplay runs from Friday, May 11 to Friday, May 18. 2 RP max in this round. (I won't bite if you post on Thursday the 10th, I promise.)


League Member
Apr 8, 2012
Re: Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds

[You know the place.]

[There’s a flavor of the week wrestling banner draped across the back wall, and a potted-fern resting its weary branches in a not so shaded corner.]

[AND, it also happens to be where Genghis COOL takes the heart of many a Mongoloid...]


[... if you guessed the tried and true confines of the Defiance Promoe Boof, you’d be correct!!!!!!]

[NOW tell them what they’ve won, Cancer.]


[Oh, and it’s had a banner on the back wall. Said banner now covers Cancer’s shoulders. Yes, he fashioned a cape to go along with his T-Shades if you must know.]

[UNsurprisingly, Lord COOL pulls it off quite well.]

[Looking like a superhero that is.]

“Yeah, I think focking so.”

[Oh happy day your favorite form of Cancer is.]

“Next up, Sensational Seani Edmunds.”


[Red faced, Cancer begins to laugh like he’s heard the unfunniest of jokes. After recovering from his bout with over the top hysterics, he clears his throat and speaks in a most sincere tone.]

“I take it you’ve been around the block before, Sean. Not that I checked out your match last week and was impressed by your performance, I actually saw just enough to fall asleep to be honest.”

[Could be taken as a compliment. Cancer didn’t say vomit or suicide in relation to the match.]

[Just saying.]

“Rather, I’m just playing a hunch that you’ve got some experience in those boots of yours.”

[He winks.]

“That being said, I’m sure I can’t be the first guy to tell you that you’re outclassed when in comparison to a worm.”

“In every which way possible.”

“Skill. Looks. Charisma. Mochessemo. Life. You name it... worm wins.”

[Not so much a compliment that time. Though, worms are smrow spelled backwards.]

“Basically, Sean.”

[Emphatically, Cancer thrusts his hand forward and points to wherever he thinks his round two opponent is hiding.]

“IT.SUCKS.TO.BE. ...you.

[Cancer’s index finger is then joined by his middle, and like he were some banger on the streets, flashes Sean Edmunds the peace sign.]

“Luck of the draw states you exit round two, homie.”

[With poop-grin vastly agape, and the Colombian-pure-white pearlies on full display, the Caped Crusader of the Ultratitle begins to move about the room with a casual arrogance.]

“A shame?”


[Cancer shrugs, because he is shameless.]

“Don’t fret too much about it though, you’ve had a good run. Really, you have. Winning one match in a event of this magnitude is a feat to be proud of-- especially for person lacking luster.”

“Like yourself.”

[Stopping in his tracks, Cancer lowers his shades and flashes a “yeah I just said that” look.]

“That’s right, Sean.”

“One, you’ll never own a pair of sunglasses like these. Never. In your life. I don’t care how many titles you retire while being the undefeated Queen of Space Mountain.”

"Two, I'm not a nice person. I live for the thrill of embarrassing others, and flushing dreams down toilets."

“And three, I’ve already written off how sensational your Minnie Mouse act is.”

“In fact, I’m so disregarded by how sensational you are-- you could have of six senses instead of five, which allows you to converse with a dead Bruce Willis, AND I still wouldn’t bother eavesdropping on your conversation.”

“Oh by the way, SEAN, I LOVE BRUCE WILLIS.”

[Not in an Eric/Castor type of way.]

“That’s what I think of the the Sensationalism of Sean Edmunds.”

[To the Count’s credit, he does look like a blond-haired, Superman/Terminator right now. So, can you really blame him for his high level of brashness?]

“Now here’s why.”

“You see, I’m COOL.”


“So COOL, I’m physically unable to speak your name within the same breath of saying COOL.”

[There’s also that to account for.]

“And in this world, and on Mars, and in the future... COOL is better than all, Sean.”

“Specifically, in your sensational case, COOL comes first in the dictionary. It’s shorter, so it has a greater Napoleon complex and a fatter penis.”

[Wait a minute.]

[Did Cancer just call himself a fat penis?]

“Not to mention, it describes me and not you.”

[I guess he did.]

“Being COOL differs from being sensational because when you’re COOL, you don’t enjoy getting beat with black dildos on the cub scout camping trip. Matter of fact, you don’t get beat with black dildo’s at all when you’re COOL.”

“Rather, you supply them to the campers to beat on guys like you, Sean. Then you laugh like I’m going to laugh after eliminating you from my tournament.”

“If anything, you should be honored that the guy who winds up winning this whole thing is the one who eliminates you.”

“It’s something I figure a person of your ilk would brag about it.”

[Raising his arm as if he were cheering a crowd, Cancer the COOL salutes before leaving.]

“Here’s to hoping you get a haircut before our match.”



Jan 1, 2000
San Francisco, CA
Re: Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds

“How.. quaint.” His voice carried through the hallway down to where the camera sat… waiting. “KARLA!” he yelled, “Have you seen this?”

“Simply Sensational” Sean Edmunds walked into view of the camera, his laptop in hand, and carried it to the kitchen table. It’s morning, obviously, as the former Pan-Pacific and Britannia Heavyweight champion is in a bathrobe.

“Seen what?” the camera turned as Karla stood over the stove flipping an egg over. She glanced quickly at Edmunds for his response and turned her attention back to breakfast. Suddenly she snapped her head back and tossed her hands in front of her, as if they’d suddenly mask her presence. “Jesus Christ, Sean!”

Karla grabbed a half-used paper towel roll and flung it in the camera’s general direction… it missed.

“Oh please, it’s not like anyone’s going to see this,” he chuckled, an exaggerated wink to the camera soon following. “Anyway,” he continued, “I was talking about the little diddy ‘COOL’ Cancer Jiles put up yesterday.”

“I didn’t see it,” came the response from behind the palm. “Is it worth watching?”

“Meh,” he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. “Random musings, mostly. He must think he gets paid by how much random airtime he eats up or something.”

“Ohhhh, he’s one of THOSE guys,” she rolled her eyes, momentarily dropping her guard and her hand… “Sort of like a Shawn Hart-lite?” She asked, jabbing the air with the spatula.

“With a little bit of King Krusher “sucks for you-dash-to-be-you-dash-blah-blah-blah” thrown in, too.”

She gasped. “Hart/Krusher mix? What the fuck is going on in this tournament?”

Edmunds smiled wide as the hair in the bun tied behind her head began to escape and drop down into random patches on her forehead. She raised an eyebrow and then looked into the camera. “For Christ’s sakes..” And there goes the hand again.

“You’re about to get sunny-fucked-up eggs instead of sunnyside-up if you keep filming, Sean.”

“OK, OK,” he reassured her, “I’ll get back to it later… let me just turn it o…”


V. W. F.

The banner hung on the wall. Albeit a bit crooked. With production tied up at the moment getting the latest show on air, I suppose one could forgive the slight oversight.

Well, not Edmunds. The man known as “Simply Sensational” walked in front of the camera in full wrestling attire, his already-short-so-it’d-be-pointless-to-get-a-haircut-again blonde hair gleaming in the light. Karla stood next to him, much improved from her morning get-up.

“Hm.” He looked at the banner.

“It’s not straight.” Thanks Captain Obvious.

“Hm.” He looked at Karla. Then the banner.

She looked at him. Then the banner. Then at him.

“Oh, c’mon, really?”

Edmunds raised an eyebrow and nodded at the banner. Karla let out a loud sigh as she sauntered up to the low-hanging side of the banner, grabbed the corner and lifted it up so it evened out.

“Thanks, babe.”

Yep. He’s getting sunny-fucked-up eggs tomorrow, too.

After a few seconds of standing in silence, Edmunds nodded to the person behind the camera.

“Going in five … four..”

Three. Two. One. The red light lit up in sync with Edmunds’ grin.

“Second verse, same as the first.” He took a deep breath, his eyes disappearing inside his skull somewhere. “I mean, seriously, how many times are people going to stand there and tell me that I’m going to lose … all the while maintaining a straight face? First it was Jackson. Mr. ‘I’m Gonna Face Cobra in the FINALS!’” He brought his hand in front of his mouth. “Oops! Sorry, Jackson. I didn’t mean to mess up your plans!” A smile. “But you’d think, after seeing how Jackson failed on his promise to take me out of this tournament, that maybe, just MAYBE, Cancer Jiles would go a different route.”

Silence. Edmunds stood completely still and looked into the camera before his head slowly turned from side to side.


He looked above him.

“Jackson tried to paint me as a generic narcissistic everyman. Cancer Jiles just thinks I suck.” More shaking of the head. “And just like my so-called opponent in the first round, Jiles spends more time talking about random bullshit than anything else. Black dildos? You love Bruce Willis? THIS is what you’re trying to peddle to me?” Edmunds tossed his hands in the air. “I don’t get it. I just don’t.”

“Maybe that shit works for his matches in DEFIANCE?”

As she talked the banner bobbled up and down; Edmunds’ head with it.

“That would explain a lot,” he smirked. “But let’s face reality here, Jiles. You’re in for a rude awakening… Round Two you’re going to find out that no matter how many times and ways you find to insert COOL into a sentence, it won’t help you pin my shoulders to the mat.” He paused. “I’m not some second-rate DEFIANCE hack, Jiles. I know my way around a ring better than everyone else in this tournament. I know what I want, and I’ll do anything,” he smiled and tossed a glance Karla’s way, “ANYTHING… to make sure that I go on to the third round.”

He glanced around at the smattering of people behind the camera, his eyes tracing their outlines.

“Just like I single-handedly ended Jackson’s dreams of being the Ultratitle victor,” he planted his hands on his hips, “Your experimental journey to become something MORE … something,” he pondered for a half-second, “important… has a set expiration date.” A shaft of light appeared directly over Edmunds, illuminating him. “Round 2. Versus Sean Edmunds.”

Karla’s arms wobbled in the background as the pressure of holding the banner straight began to get to her.

“We’re fundamentally different, you and I.” He nodded in affirmation. “You think that by spewing that ADHD shit you can confuse your opponent into submission.. and I’m sure with the level of,” a snarky sneer, “talent,” airquoted of course, “in DEFIANCE that works out quite well for you.”

“Let’s wrap it up,” Karla pleaded. Edmunds put a finger as if to say “one more second.”

“But I’m not one of your bush-league buddies.” He smirked. “I’m not COOL.” A quick raise of the eyebrows. “I don’t need to be.”

The banner wobbled faster now as Karla’s face reddened in desperation.

“All I need to be, Jiles,” he paused, “is better than you. And THAT, my friend, I got in spades.”

Edmunds flexed in front of the camera.

“Don’t adjust your television sets,” a huge smile, “I am this Sensational.”

The red light on the camera flickered before disappearing.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU.” Karla yelped as she dropped the side of the banner. It crashed.

“Don’t worry babe,” he cooed as he pulled her into his arms, “I’ll make it up to you when we’re named the Ultratitle Champion.”

She couldn’t look into his baby blues and stay mad.

“You owe me.”

“What else is new?”

The two hooked arms and walked off the set. The camera focused on the hanging VWF banner before fading to black.


Jan 1, 2000
San Francisco, CA
Re: Round 2: "COOL" Cancer Jiles vs. "Simple Sensational" Sean Edmunds

It is the dead of night.


The glow from the numbers pulsed off the front of the microwave.


A flash of light blinded the camera. Coming from the far bedroom, Miss Karla slowly walked into view. Zombie-like, her hands flailing in front of her, she grabbed the door handle to the fridge. A bottled water.

“Mum.mum.mum,” she mumbled. “So thirsty.”

Karla finished off the bottled water with ease and tossed the empty plastic container in the trash. If Edmunds were awake, he’d have scolded her. Recycle, man. But alas, he was in bed.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Karla said, almost as if she could hear Edmunds’ voice reprimanding her wasteful ways. “Tomorrow.” She stared wantingly at the slightly ajar bedroom door. The warmth and comfort of the bed beckoned her.

As Karla walked by the kitchen table she noticed the laptop belonging to Sean was still on. His voice echoed “Have you seen this-this-this-this?” She paused, tilted her head from side to side as she pondered, and decided that maybe she would see what all the fuss was about.

“Fine, fine.” She stood over the laptop and entered Edmunds’ password. Soon she was clicking on the file named “JILES_PROMO.mpg” left on the desktop. The video player opened...

With her jaw on the floor, Karla stepped away from the laptop.

“What the fuck?” she was dumbfounded.

All of a sudden, a figure jumped out from the doorway.


Karla leapt five feet in the air and let out an ear-piercing screech as Sean Edmunds crumpled onto the floor in laughter.


“So you finally watched the Jiles’ thing, huh?” he struggled to get out through uncontrollable fits of laughter.

“That wasn’t his promo!”

Poor Karla.

“Of course not .. I wasn’t about to use his likeness without his permission! Who do you think I am, Tarrasque?” A side-wink to the camera. “But that video IS Cancer Jiles. To… the… T.”

“I’m going to bed,” she barked as she stormed by him.

“What! He’s COOL! He’s SO COOL!” Edmunds called after her, still chuckling.

Finally he turned to the camera, a wide grin plastered on.

“I’m not COOL like you and Sushi654, Jiles…” he stood back and raised his arms out to the side, “I’m Simply …. SENSATIONAL.”

Edmunds closed the laptop lid and walked toward the now-most-likely-to-be-very-icy bedroom. As his hand hovered over the lightswitch, he had a parting word or two.

“Oh, Jiles..” he winked, “If anything, you should be honored that the guy who winds up winning this whole thing is the one who eliminates you..”

Flipped. Darkness. The End.

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