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What a Night


El Gringo Loco
Feb 27, 2008
This is within the limit. I'm going to go ahead and post this as a reply to this thread. We can't be sure off-site roleplays aren't being edited and it makes it a lot easier on the judges to have everything here.


Ten thirty at night and all is quiet. The room is dark, the black silk curtains are stopping any one who may be looking in and blocking the moonlight. The only light in the room comes from the alarm clock on the nightstand. All is quiet save the soft, incoherent muttering of a man.

"One mo...mo...more...just one...mo..m..more a...and...I'm d...done."

Seconds later a spark of light illuminates the corner and the shadow of a man can be seen holding a lighter, the flame licks the bottom of a charred spoon. Boiling liquid can be heard in the spoon, the lighter is depressed and darkness engulfs the room again.

"Shit I missed."

You can hear the sounds of the metal spoon get knocked on the floor from the jerk of his arm. On the second attempt, he hits...plunges...and instant relief...


His head starts spinning, he can't breathe and his heart is racing...sweat is pouring down his face. The room is darker and darker. He is clutching his chest with his right hand and his left is flailing around hitting everything around, he is searching for his cell phone, but it's too late...lights out.

****Half Hour Later****

"Holy shit, where am I?"

Aidan takes a few steps on the bright white walkway. There is no one in sight, just a bright, white light, illuminating the walls and floor. A door is up ahead on the left, Aidan decides to take a try. Unlocked...he opens the door and enters the room.

"Oh, hey Aidan, where have you been?"

The fuck is this? I'm so lost...

"Aidan, come on in man, take a seat."

Aidan stands there, white as a ghost. Funny I say white as a ghost, what he sees in front of him has to be a group of ghosts. Aidan tries to speak but her stammers through it and no words come out.

"Aidan, sit please. You're making me nervous"

Aidan still can't move. Finally, a lady sitting on the couch to his left gets up and makes her way over to him.

"I don't understand what is going here. You're all deceased." Aidan barks out as he look around the room to see his childhood friend, first born son, and aunt.

"Yeah, what's so hard to understand, we are all dead." Tay, Aidan's childhood best friend explains. Tay grabs a Newport off the coffee table and lights it up. After watching him take two deep drags, Aidan can't take it anymore, he stands up frustrated and confused.

"What's going on, I don't fucking get it? How are you all here?" Aidan is pacing the room, the door he entered the room through is not there anymore. Panic is beginning to set in.

"I don't understand what you're confused about dad, we are all dead." Christian replies, as he does so he makes a circling motion with his left hand, indicating that everyone in the room is deceased. "How is this confusing to you?"

Finally it sets in, but now the panic is taking over. Aidan pounds on the wall where the door used to be. Nothing, barely even a sound. Sweat is pouring down his face. In disbelief and fear he begins to recall what had happened.

"No, no, this can't be. I'm perfectly healthy, I'm clean. I'm doing well, this is not real."

"Sweetie, this is more real than you know. That last shot you took didn't set well, it was laced." Aunty says in a low murmur.

Aidan drops to his knees, his head in his hands, he begins to sob."


You know, I signed up for this BattleMania because I was told that the best of the best would be here. I was told that I could be a part of history. I was told that there will never be another match like it. I was sold a load of bullshit is what happened. Since the day I signed that dotted line I have been inundated with reporters and the like begging me to respond to the crap that has been spewing from the mouth of these fools. Why in the hell am I going to waste my time getting into a battle of wits when my opponents don't have the proper weapons. Now it's true, I don't know a whole lot about a lot of these idiots that are involved, but who does? I mean really, each and everyone of these dudes feel that they are king shit in this business because they have won x amount of titles and have ruled x amount of feds. The truth behind it all is that outside of your little world, you are all nobodies. Personally I have won multiple championships at multiple levels and in multiple federations. How many of you know who I am? Exactly. And I truly have been in the ring with the best of the best out there.

You see I've done some research and I can tell you that a good eighty-five percent of the "talent" in your home federations, that you all brag about beating, wouldn't last a month in my world. So you can sit there and tell me how bad ass you are and how many championships you have under your belt all you want. It means nothing. You can win a gold medal in the Special Olympics, doesn't change the fact that you are retarded.

//back to reality//

The phone rings over and over again in a Marriott Hotel room. Aidan Morag is passed out face down on the queen size bed. Two empty bottles of Grey Goose vodka are on the night stand juxtaposed the bed. As the phone continues to ring, a blond female stirs from the floor next to the bed. As she finally gets to her feet, she grabs the receiver.


“Um, yes, is Mr. Morag available?” The voice asks.

“Yes, he is sleeping though, may I ask who this is?”

“Mr. Johnson at the front desk. We have an important call that has been calling all day, to get in touch with him.”

“Okay, I’ll see if I can wake him.”

The woman leans over the bed and places her hand on Aidan’s shoulder, lightly shaking she calls his name. “Aidan, Aidan, wake up, you have a phone call.”

After a few brief moments Aidan begins to stir. He looks up to see this beautiful, naked blond in his room. She is holding the phone and waiving it in the air.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with the phone?” Aidan asks as he tries to wake himself up.

“The front desk has an important call for you.” She answers as she hands him the phone. As Aidan takes the call and begins to sit himself up, the blond sets herself down on the bed and waits for the call to be over.

“Yes, that’s fine, I’ll be there in a couple hours...what time is it now?” Aidan looks at his cell phone on the pillow next to him only to find it is dead. “Okay, give me until five, I’ll be there.” Aidan hands the phone back, still trying to shake the cobwebs.

“Are you alright Aidan, you seem very confused?”

“I am, I think. I have no idea who you are or why we are both naked, what the hell happened last night?”
“You don’t remember any of it?”

“The last thing I know, I was at the bar having a few drinks before a meeting I was supposed to go to, which is the reason for the call.” Aidan stands, his legs are wobbly, he grabs his boxers and jeans and pulls them on.

“When I got to the bar, you were pretty far gone. You followed me to my seat and never left my side. You kept calling me Marisol. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but you insisted that I come back to your room. I don’t know how many times I refused but in the end I decided, why the hell not.” She stands and pulls on a bathrobe herself. “You weren’t that far gone though because we went four rounds before you called me a cunt, and pushed me off the bed. By then I was also pretty fucked up so I just passed out right there.”

“Okay, well let’s start with your name.” Aidan says as he continues to get dressed. He plugs his phone into the charger and looks through his wallet.

“Liz, you can just call me Liz.”

“I can just call you Liz, or your damn name is Liz?” Aidan is getting frustrated with this woman.

“My name is Liz. Listen you don’t have to be an asshole to me, I’m not the reason you are in this mess.”

“Mess, you have no idea. I had the most fucked up dream last night, all my dead friends and family were there, I used Heroin and died.” Aidan stops talking as he feels he revealed to much.

“You’re an addict? I didn’t notice any tracks on your arms. No use looking now as they are all scratched up from last night, but I always look. I used to be an addict myself.”

“Used to be? No one used to be an addict honey. You are or you aren’t. I’m not active, haven’t used since I was sent to prison four years ago. That’s all neither here nor there Liz. Listen you have to go now. I have a lot of shit to do and I have no idea what is really going on. Someone drugged me last night, no idea who or why or where, but it happened.”

Liz begins to get dressed, she starts to defend herself again, but Aidan cuts her off and again directs her to the door. Liz is forced out of the room while she is still getting dressed. Aidan walks back over to the bed and collapses rubbing his face with his hands.

What the hell happened? This is not how I need to start this week off. Okay Aidan, get your head clear, doesn’t seem like anything horrible happened, your wallet is there, your cell phone is fine, and you go laid. I’m guessing she was pretty damned good too, four rounds?

//more food for thought//

There is so much buzz about this match it's crazy. I cannot go anywhere without hearing about Battlemania. Everyone is asking me why I entered this thing. What my strategy is, what does this mean for Aidan Morag? Don't read to much into things folks. You're right, this isn't something I would normally do, but I'm tired of people thinking that Aidan is just a home crowd hero. Time to take the world by storm. There is no past, there is no future, there is only this one night. If for one second any of you feel that your past has any bearing on Battlemania, you are sadly mistaken. People like Mike Best pride themselves on their past accomplishments and I can guarantee that he plans on running his cock holster about all that in an attempt to wow the crowd and intimidate the rest of the talent. Mike, as of this night, you have never done a damn thing, and after this night, you'll have done the same.

Mark Kingston, you crack me up kid. First off, your trash talk is elementary level at best, and that may be insulting the elementary school children. Listen dude, you suck. It's sad and I know it's a hard pill to swallow but you're going to have to accept it at some point. Mommy's not always going to be there to tell you how special you are short bus.

I could sit here and pick on each one of you one by one, but how lame would that be? It’s funny, all the supporting federations are bragging about how their talent is going to win this thing, their talent is better than everyone else. I’m not sure if anyone has figured this out yet, but there is an age old saying that goes something like power in numbers. Take your time and try to figure out what I’m talking about….it’s okay, I’ll wait….still nothing? Yeah figured as much…hard to teach logic to lames.

Boardwalk Wrestling is the best federation on the planet today. I’d say ask around but you know damn well that you don’t have to. You all know us. How many Boardwalk talents, or former Boardwalk talents are in this thing? Let’s count them out. We have Amp, Matt Meyhu, and Aidan Morag. I mean right there alone, your hard-pressed to beat us. But it doesn’t end there. Ian Bishop and I are cut from the same cloth, how do you say, the upper One Percent, of this business. There you have the top four talents in this rumble all with some sort of positive connection. Getting scared yet? Good you should be. With all that being said, I know for a fact that the last four in that ring will be Boardwalk.

Amp, Meyhu, you two are great, there is no doubt about that. We all know though, that you have never been in the ring with me, and we all know why. You’ve conveniently stopped performing as soon as I came back. I understand, I wouldn’t want to face me if I were others either. Make no bones about it, when all is said and done, Aidan Morag will be the last man standing.

Ian Bishop, in my personal and professional opinion, the last two men in that ring will be you and I. what a treat for this promotion and the wrestling world. You recruited me not too long ago for a reason. At Battlemania, we will show the world why, and trust you me, this will be epic. But again, I’m just that much better. Think about it, who is still active? Who runs your old stable? Who captured the title you failed to retain before exiting? Yeah, that’s what thought.

To go on and on would be pointless and to save myself from getting boring and trite, as if that were possible, I’ll leave you with this…Greatness isn’t something you can self-proclaim. Greatness is earned. Aidan Morag is greatness and at Battlemania, the world will know the same.

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