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 Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread

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PostSubject: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeSun Oct 09, 2011 11:18 am

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Ammnewlogodraft




Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Exterior


The noise of the crowd at the sold out American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida is soft until Time is Running Out by Muse brings them to their feet, booing in unison for the villainous Abel Steele. He steps out from the back curtain, microphone in one hand and brass knuckles in the other, dry blood still caked on the weapon from his previous accolades.

He hoists them high as he makes his way down the ramp and to the ring, strutting as he displays his achievement. He takes center stage as he enters the ring.


Abel: You know, I was watching a replay of the last Ammunition broadcast and, aside from the overall disability of the rest of the roster compared to myself, I noticed something. You see, it was right in the middle of my match, and I thought I was just hearing things at first. I thought to myself 'no thats impossible' but out of curiosity, I investigated. At first, it was quiet, nothing more than a whisper, but then it began to grow and grow. It was never more than a din, but I heard it and I couldn't believe my ears. It was a chant and I could hear it clear as day.

Doc. Doc. Doc.

Abel grows frustrated as the crowd begins to chant for John "Doc" Derrick. Angrily, he puts the mic to his face.

Abel: Yes, thats exactly how it sounded and I began to think. How could you people call for a relic of times past? I've done more than enough to put that past-his-prime hasbeen out of comission and any attempts at a comeback, at least against me, on his behalf would be nothing short of suicidal. Then I had to sit back and think of you fans and how you could claim to love a man, yet you obviously have to hate him if you continue to egg him on to face his utter destruction. Yes, you all-

Abel is cut off as My Curse by Killswitch Engage blasts through the arena. The crowd stops chanting for Doc as FMW Rookie Anwyl makes his way from backstage, microphone in his hand too.

Anwyl: Abel, let me just say now that everything you're saying makes nothing but sense to me, the future. However, there seems to be a different issue at hand that I think we need to address first and foremost. You see, I think Doc has the intelligence and common sense to know when he is bested by a superior opponent such as yourself, no doubt, but there is another fossil who is attempting to come back. Some drunken ghost of the past named Alex O'Rion-

Abel and Anwyl look around, shocked, as the crowd cheers Alex's name

Anwyl: Do you see now! Abel I am the Future, I represent people like us. These guys are coming back to accomplish only one thing, and thats steal our glory. Obviously we can not let this happen so I think perhaps it would be best for us to use our collective cunning and work together to finally put these morons into their proper place, the hall of Retirees.

Anwyl extends his hand which Abel smiles and reaches out. As soon as they shake hands, however, the crowd stands up on its feet as Someone Who Cares by Three Days Grace plays, and Alex O'Rion makes his way through the curtain

Alex: You guys seem to think that you're hot stuff. Well, I've got news for you. You're not. In fact, I'm willing to prove it right now.

Anwyl: Hey! Theres no way Im prepared for a match right now! This is another example of your underhandedness at an attempt to hold the future stars of this place back!

Alex: I figured you'd say that, so I went ahead and made a phone call to a certain FMW executive named P. Thurston Deveraux and he gave us the green light to have a match tonight, which will be plenty enough time Im sure for you to warm up. In fact, both of you will be in the match. Tonight, it will be the Rookie Blunder Anwyl and the a-hole Abel Steele facing off against the team of the amazing Alex O'Rion and, well-

The crowd roars in excitement one more time as Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones blasts over the speakers and John 'Doc' Derrick makes his way through the curtain. He shakes Alex's hand and then glares at his opponents in the ring. Abel begins yelling at Doc and motioning that he will use his knuckles again. Anwyl grabs his head and punches the air as Alex and Doc raise their arms in victory and walk backstage.



Ammunition 14.3

From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida



Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match

Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick


PROMO ONLY until SATURDAY October 15th at 11:59 PM (est). VOTING and PROMO until MONDAY October 17th at 11:59 PM (est)
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeSun Oct 09, 2011 12:19 pm

Working at the Peddler’s Pub is, interesting to say the least. Can’t really say it’s for the best, but… hey, at least Uncle Alex is paying me so I persevere. But yeah, you meet some weirdos around these parts. They all have their quirks, their flaws but they do have three things in common.

One, they love their beer. Two, they love a good bar fight.

Lastly, they absolutely adore and cherish Uncle Alex. He’ll always be a hero to them, even if he doesn’t see why they worship him so vehemently. I heard he’s plotting a comeback to go back to the ring, I guess he wants to do it right this time. I have to admit, 14.2 wasn’t a step in the right direction.

So I wonder to myself where exactly that leaves me. I could always go back and live with my father but… he sent me away in the first place. I’m sure he had a legitimate reason for it but I still miss him. Then again he’s wrestling again, in addition to running that wrestling school so while I know he’ll always love me… maybe I don’t fit his plans at this moment.

It’s likely he’d quit if I asked him but I don’t want to stand in the way of anyone’s happiness. Frankly my dad deserves a win for once in what most people term to be a shitty life.

Speaking of which… well isn’t this a sight for sore eyes.

Chris just walked into the bar. He looks like trash, to be frank. Bummed doesn’t even begin to describe it. He sits at the bar and just puts his head down, like it is quiet time in elementary school. Well, I have a job to do but this time I’d like to cut someone off before they even start.

“What can I get you?”

He merely throws up one finger, seems like it took all of his effort to muster just that miniscule gesture. He’s got to be exhausted. I motion for Uncle Alex, who glares at me because I’ve interrupted his latest attempt to woo a patron of the female persuasion. He says to the woman that he’ll be right back.

“What’s up, Karma?”

“See for yourself.”

And he turns to see Chris, head down… body language screaming defeat. Uncle Alex sighs before patting Chris on the shoulder.

“B’ye, ya don’t look so good.”

Chris doesn’t even move. I question whether or not he even knows where he is, like subconsciously he just showed up to a “safe haven”.

“Chris, look at me. Come on, b’ye…”

Uncle Alex takes it upon himself to pull Austin’s head up by the hair but his hand comes back with a few strands of it. So Uncle Alex raises Chris’s head up by the chin that and what stares back at him is a reddened face with cheeks covered in tears and a slight grimace on it. This sight takes us both by surprise. However, it’s clear to see that he’s here to drown his sorrows. That’s never the best course of action.

I feel so bad for him though. I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help. I know, our last real conversation was brutal but he could use a shoulder to lean on. I mean look at him… he’s so sad.

“”Uh, OK… Marc, man the bar for a few, I need to have a personal talk with one of my friends.”

“No problem, boss.”

“Karma, come with?”

“I guess so.”

Uncle Alex and I leave the bar and pull Chris to his feet. He doesn’t even try to put up a fight. We walk him back to the work office. I then sit on the desk, looking on. Chris makes an attempt to wipe away the tears as Uncle Alex readies himself to talk.

“Go away, Alex.”

Well I guess old Chris is back.

“Back to your old asshat ways, eh Austin? No need to try and put up a front, I know you’re having a tough time with all of this. Karma and I are here in case you want to vent or anything. I don’t like seeing you so pitiful, b’ye. Neither of us do.”

“I’d rather talk to Karma alone.”

“I can’t let ya do that and you know why.”

“Well care to fill me in, Uncle Alex?”

“Your dear old Uncle thinks I’d try to attack you or something, as if I’m some sort of disgusting, good for nothing prick that has no respect for anyone, women in particular.”

“He pretty much nailed it, Karma.”

I don’t think Chris is that kind of person. Can’t hurt to ask though.

“Well is he lying, Chris? Are you that kind of douchebag?”

“At one point in life, I could have been. But no, I’m better than that. Besides, your dear old Uncle has a camera in his office so even if I were to try something he could rush in, grab the bat that located behind the fire extinguisher there, bash my brains out and get back to work in a flash.”

“STOP KNOWING WHERE SHYTE IS IN MY OFFICE B’YE!”

I can’t help but to giggle at Uncle Alex’s irrational anger.

“Alex… I just think that Karma would have a better idea of what I’m going through.”

“B’ye, are you forgetting that Karma’s the only one in this room with a living father?”

Chris gives Uncle Alex a rather odd look and while I’m not sure what they’ve “communicated” to one another it seems that the message has been received. So, Uncle Alex throws his hands up in the air and walks out.

“Karma, I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

I sigh heavily and jump down from the desk, going to sit beside Chris. He looks at me and then out towards the rest of the room. He exhales deeply and palms his face, seemingly at his wit’s end.

“So what’s on your mind, Christopher?”

“You and I… we hadn’t had the best relationships with our respective dads as of late.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I love my father very much.”

Chris looks at me, apparently looking for some sort of tell to see if I’m lying. Well good luck with that.

“I can tell it in your voice that you’re frustrated with Dante. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t have to admit it.”

“What do you want, Chris?”

“Uh… look ever since my dad died, it seems like I cannot get over it. It’s been weeks, and we weren’t that close during his last days but for some reason… well you’ve seen my face. My hair’s falling out…”

“Takes time. Don’t rush it. Some things you don’t really get over, the key is that you don’t let it eat you alive, the grief that is. Just have to make peace with it.”

“Well I figured that I would have made peace with it by now.”

“Let me be frank about the relationship that my father and I have. It’s not the best, but we make it work. I know my father has problems and he knows that things have happened to me. But we’re there for each other and we do what it takes to help one another through. If I have to stay with Uncle Alex for a while then, so be it.”

“What’s your point?”

“The point is, no matter the falling out you and your dad had, it doesn’t change that you two were still father and son and that one thing has conquered all of your past resentment towards him. I mean, have you actually told your father goodbye yet?”

“No.”

“Well there you go. You recognize that he’s gone, but you’ve yet to let it go. You do that, you can truly heal. It’s best for your relationship in some weird way. Holding on to him only screws with you even more and it’ll send you into a spiral of self-destruction. You know that.”

That’s really all I can tell him. I think Chris’s whole thing is that he has to let the grief go because the longer he keeps it with him, the more it’ll eat at him.

Still, for some people, holding on to those feelings of hatred, resentment or whatever can fuel someone in ways that are unimaginable. You don’t have to look much further than Chris’s stunning career turnaround since that whole brother-son incident that Uncle Alex told me about.

“Karma… I really appreciate this talk. I really do.”

“Glad to do it.”

Chris and I both stand up and he looks towards me. I accompany him to the door and he stops.

“Can I say something?”

“Sure, go for it.”

“I’d like to apologize about coming on to you some months back. I was angry at Alex and I knew it would bug him if I tried anything with you. But, I didn’t take you into account. I should have been more considerate of your past and all of that, I should have known better.”

“It’s all water under the bridge.”

“That quick?”

“Life’s too short to keep quality people out of your life, you know? Besides, I’m not my dad, I don’t hold many grudges and I’m not about that whole “no apologies” thing.”

“I’d advise you to keep it that way.”

“What, don’t hold grudges?”

“No, don’t be like your father. He wouldn’t want that.”

“I know that and I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything to worry about on that front.”

“I said the same thing about my dad and look how that went. You and I aren’t so different.”

“I guess we aren’t.”

We hug each other and I offer a quick, innocent peck on the cheek. I exit first and Chris follows, as Uncle Alex pretends to sweep the Pub with a baseball bat. I think Chris is going to be fine; just has to you know… get out of his own way.

I hope he’s able to do that.

+++

So while I’ve dropped the charges against Kylie, and let’s face it, considering how I tried to beat the girl’s brains in back in December of 2010, I’d say that we’re even. Besides, since then she’s had a child and now that I know that she’s mine, I realize that I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself had I caused something to happen.

Yep, I have two kids that I barely get to see. I hate myself for it.

Either way, when one door closes another opens; in my case, that’s a fast friendship with Nicole, the detective who’s working the Black Mambas case and was previously working on trying to find a way for me to bring Kylie to justice.

But moreover, we’ve got a lot of things in common but I feel like maybe I should just cut my losses. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed the company. Clearly we’re connecting but, we haven’t had much physical contact outside of hugs, high-fives and the occasional playful punch from her, to my shoulder or chest and I’d like to keep it that way.

Obviously I’m not trying to get too attached to her. We don’t have “pro-relationship” jobs to start with. Yet here we are, in her home for a late-night cup of coffee. We talk, we laugh. We ask each other about lesser known facts about one another that didn’t come up in any of our previous nights out.

Then the talking ceases. And we lock eyes and smile at one another.

Odd, a few months ago I wouldn’t have pissed on her if she was on fire. I guess this is what happens when you spend almost all your down time with one person and you end up needing someone during a low point in life.

“It’s getting late, Chris.”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve got a busy morning anyway.”

“Before you go, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

I stand up to place my cup in her kitchen sink. She stands as well as I seem to inch toward the door. I’m already plotting my escape from what may have the makings of an unfavorable situation. Old habits die hard. She then blocks the door.

“Look, I like you and all, I consider you a relatively good friend but you know that it’s likely not a good idea that we get involved any more than we are, right?”

“Yep.”

See how quick and to the point that was? Like I said, she’s straight-forward.

“Just making sure. Anyway, let’s call it a night. Call me tomorrow. We can go catch a movie or something.”

“Sounds cool. Good night, Nicole.”

“Night, Chris.”

She walks me to the door. I turn to face her.





What was just a largely innocent peck on her soft lips becomes a mutual tango of sensual carnality as she leans into my chest and somehow, my arms and hands find their way around her, trying to read her body like Braille.

Damn, she feels so good to the touch.

Then the door seems to close itself as we maneuver back into her home. I’m tired of walking by this point. I’m not looking for a bed, or a couch, I just need something to sit her on top of that’s not attached to my body. Then I bump into a kitchen counter. Seems like this is in the cards, eh?

I quickly cup her around her thighs and lift her on top of the counter, brushing her hair back to get a better look at her face. She bites and suckles on my bottom lip for a second before we part.

She smiles as I tease her neck with soft kisses.

For your sake and mines, I’ll go no further as sex too early ruined many a thing in my life. That flies out the window as one of the softest tongues in the world threatens to walk its way up my neck. I can feel her body temperature rising in my hands as she can feel mine do the same.

… Goddamn I have an overactive imagination. Look, relationship or not, I’d fuck her.

She looks me up and down. She stares at me then she chuckles and says, “Something wrong?”

You know what? I don’t sleep much anyway so what the hell?

“Want to watch some How I Met Your Mother?”

“I thought you had a busy morning.”

“You can say no, won’t hurt my feelings, ha-ha.”

“Lucky for you I like the show. A couple episodes would be fine.”

You may see this as a man who was really lonely but at my roots, I’m a simple man that finds joy in some of the little things. And I was a little lonely. Deal with it, fuckers.

Also, that show is one hell of a watch. We can’t help but laugh and debate about what we see. Next thing I know, it’s morning and I wake up to her resting her head on my shoulder while we’re both still fully clothed. Did I spend the night here? Oh well.

Be jealous. Or not, it’s up to you.

I mean what’s there to be jealous about, two friends watching season four of How I Met Your Mother? Please, don’t read too much into it.

It was a nice escape from the daily grind that is my life though.

With a weight lifted off of my shoulders and a renewed sense of self, I walk away, having left a piece of me behind and in its place… a piece of the real me.

+++

Or so I thought… when I walk into an FMW building I change. Never for the better.

I walk into an empty arena, the ring is already set up. I immediately feel at home. I near the ropes and I grab them as the calluses on my hands are immediately soothed by the ropes’ brutish touch. I pull myself up and step into the ring. I walk around it. I smell the sweat, the blood…

The dust particles that are still left dance up and around my nose and I welcome this. This ring… she is my goddess, she is my sanctuary. I have not been able to feel love for some time, save for the instances involving my younger sibling… but I love this. I feel safe.

Yet this safety is an illusion, it has to be. I have not been able to look at things the same since Dad died. I sit down Indian-Style and the walls come tumbling down.

“Good Evening, class. My name is Chris Austin. Some people know me as the Radical, the Student of the Game and so on. I don’t believe we’ve met yet.

This is what happens when one choice gets out of hand. When you happen across the slippery slope and are just inept enough to attempt to prove it wrong. I sit here, I look around. There is nothing but me. What I am, what I’ll always be, perhaps.

When I first came to this place I just wanted to be an average guy with a cool nickname and sick athletic gifts. I wanted to come in, do my work and leave. Everyone would at least respect me, maybe like me? They’d say “That kid has his head on straight” or “Good home training” or “Not a troublemaker”

That “let it flow” wasn’t a catchphrase. It was a way of life. Adaptation would always be my greatest strength. Ability to thrive no matter the situation I’d come across.”

I look around before my eyelids meet one another. I can hear wind for some incomprehensible reason. I feel something kiss me on my cheek… I love you too.

What I would have once given to be loved, to be respected. Just for being me.

“But as time went I knew that eventually I’d have to grow, I’d have to take a risk. I knew this because my original plan never got me anywhere. I beat who I was supposed to beat, and lost to those I was supposed to lose to. I could not win any match unless it did not matter.

So I started to give more of a damn.

I started to care more. I started to put time, research and strategy into my job, and it became my art. It became my muse, my craft and my expertise. Everything I had shied away from, I put it into this. I figured that maybe, if every match mattered, I’d be more successful. So I made them matter. Every insult mattered. Every comment that no one ever said about me, mattered. Every look I got; everything. It all mattered.”

I look around. I close my eyes, hoping that the warm embrace I feel when I step through these ropes will sensually greet me once again. It is currently hesitant.

“I saw what FMW was and had been. I saw what I had gotten myself into. I was always taught to adapt to my surroundings… and I adapted.

But it was supposed to be temporary. Just for a moment. Just show that when I needed to I could reach down and be what FMW had seemed to prefer. I was faced with two options: Either I accept my role and never truly succeed or I hate what you wanted me to be and destroy all who oppose. But I like winning. I liked when the eyes were on me. I liked it to the point that I became… this. I became this to survive. I became this because I did things the right way and FMW would not see it.”

This machine. An emotionless, cold… shell of the man I once was, in its place the wrestler that most everyone wants to be.

“Now, I do not know whom or what to be. I have found a question that I cannot answer. I know that what I am as a wrestler has destroyed what I am as a man. But I can’t go back and I will likely never be the person you hoped for me to be. I cannot go back to being the “jobber to the stars”. I cannot go back to being the guy with all the talent in the world but just enough passivity to misuse the shit out of it.

I will not go back. I have seen the depths, the rock bottom. I will not settle for middle of the pack. The sheer thought warms my spine and given my demeanor, that is problematic.

The greatness I’ve cultivated, the career I’ve poked, manipulated and grown into something I could hold pride in… it thrives on hatred. Bitter, envious hate that wonders what levels I’ll have to stoop to, in order to get your attention. Because… apparently just being the best isn’t enough. If it were, I would be healed. But if I were the best, would I have needed to do what I had done?

Would I have had to turn my back on my friends, shun you all? If I can’t accept that being the best is enough, then why should you?

You shouldn’t. Why? Because until I am FMW Champion, I will never be the best, so I cannot relax. I cannot rest. I cannot be happy. So I will take my misery. I will make the sacrifice.

I could have never been your hero, FMW. But I can save myself from me. I can save myself before I am truly… too far gone. I am in a race against my own sanity, my own happiness. I must become FMW Champion. To do that I must beat whomever I face.

With Drew Michaels out of the picture for now, I turn my attention to Christian G. Smitten. The C-4 Heavyweight Wrestling Champion. It’s a true shame that he’s not the best pure wrestler despite holding the title that says so. Well he wouldn’t be holding it after tonight, provided this was a title defense but alas, getting title shots that I deserve just does not happen anymore it seems.”

However, despite the blatant nonsensical decision making… I realize that a golden opportunity awaits me. Smitten knows me, I know him. But I have something over him that he can’t defend against.

“Firstly, thank you for your condolences as they relate to my deceased father. Now, Smitten, you and I… we mean more to each other than we care to admit. When I was at my lowest, I decisively defeated you at Death Row 3 and began one of the most dominating stretches in the history of FMW. During that time you spiraled out of control… until we crossed paths at No Holds Barred.

There, when you were at your lowest, I lost the C-4 Heavyweight Wrestling Championship to you. I never got the chance to regain it. But the point is that we are responsible for one another’s career resurrections.

However, while I wanted to bring the best from you at No Holds Barred, I have seen no such effort to return the favor. You can claim that you don’t make the matches, but we have seen people successfully strong-arm management into doing their bidding. You, with all of your legal background and your dirt on FMW could have done that. Yet you didn’t.

That’s fine. I don’t need a thank you. I don’t need you to attempt to live up to your moniker of “Honorable” when you clearly aren’t.

However, I am the best pure wrestler in FMW. I am the Student of the Game and I am the most deserving of a Full Metal World Heavyweight Title match. If I have to beat you again to prove it, so be it and frankly, I do not like your chances.

I do not like your chances because of who I am.

I do not like your chances because you, Christian G. Smitten want no part of this Chris Austin.

I am not Abel Steele, I am not Anywl and I most definitely am not Alex O’Rion. I am not overmatched or intimidated by you. I know what it takes to beat you and I know what mistakes you'll make and the mistakes you hope I'll make, to no avail.”

Don’t you hate when people take the fun out of everything?

”Now let me make something perfectly clear. You beat me at 100 percent at No Holds Barred. It’s an admirable achievement but... you're facing me when I have something to prove, not something to defend.

I wanted to defend my victory over your person at Death Row 3 and I wanted to defend the C-4 Heavyweight Wrestling Championship when we fought at No Holds Barred. I wrestled not to lose, when I should have wrestled to win. That will not happen again. The FMW system is broken, much like the justice system and I can't defend myself in a court of broken law with you as the prosecution.

But I can prove that I am better than you in the squared circle. And I will. FMW, Smitten will be just another learning experience. Don’t take it personal, Christian. I’m heading to a ocean that you floundered in, you’re in my way and I’m going to eat you alive.

It's best that you walk away from this while you still can. Otherwise, prepare to be broken like you were at Death Row, like you should have been at No Holds Barred.

Class Dismissed.”
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FMW Superstar: "The Future" Anwyl
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeThu Oct 13, 2011 6:15 am

Full Metal Wrestling Inc.
Presents...
An Anvil Entertainment Promo

PART DOS: The Rebirth

I tasted defeat again.
No pain this time
Except for a few ribs after the fall
But the mental anguish was gone
That frustration wasn’t there
I didn’t submit
I didn’t give up
I kept going
I knew I had given my all in trying to win
In trying to take home what I felt I deserved



Alex O’Rion wrecked it for me
Alex O’Rion gets in my way again
Alex O’Rion is making it hard for me
But I know I am better than Alex O’Rion
I was able to prove it the last time Alex O’Rion and I stepped into the ring together
Alex O’Rion gave up, I was still standing
I think I am saying Alex O’Rion’s name to much
But I am fixated on killing the name, the person and everything that goes with it
Trying to take away the prestige and value Alex O’Rion name has



Anwyl is your new marquee star
My face, my name will be on those collector cups
On the Death Row III Poster, the Ammunition title sequence
And on day, the Anwyl name will be plastered on the C-4 Championship
One day I will be the GREATEST!
But until that moment
I will be known as
THE FUTURE!



Anwyl walks into the backstage area of Full Metal Wrestling at the American Airline Arena, Anwyl is donning his customised Miami Heat jersey with the number 41 emblazed on the front and back as well as the Anwyl script along the back; from across the room he eyes Abel Steel, his partner and the man who is going to help Anwyl rid Full Metal Wrestling from Alex O’Rion doing working the bag. Anwyl’s camera crew is quick to follow, with the boom microphone shoved just in front of Anwyl’s face.

Anwyl: Please to meet you mate, I am Anwyl

Abel: Yeah, Yeah, I know who you are. You better not get in my way tonight

Anwyl: (laughs) Remember, we both have a common goal here, does it really matter who hurts who. I want Alex O’Rion to tap out in the middle of the ring and I’m sure you want Doc to cop a few lefts and rights. We can kill them, take advantages when we can. They want to use their underhanded tactics and through this match together without our warning. Let’s give them no warning

Abel begins to nod and smile

Abel: We spring up on them, just like quick jabs so we can set up for that huge uppercut

Anwyl: I have no idea what you said, but exactly! Let’s hurt them, let’s show them what the Future holds.

Abel: YEAH! We can do this

Anwyl: We can, we will. This is our moment Abel, this is our moment! I best be on my way...

Anwyl leans forwards and whispers

Anwyl: They’re filming a documentary about me Abel, I’m famous!

Anwyl walks off into to the distance his camera crew in tow. Abel Steel turns away and continues working the bag

Abel: Let’s kill Doc!


Anwyl continues to move along the various hallways of the American Airlines Arena, he turns to the cameras behind him

Anwyl: There would be no better place to beat O’Rion than the American Airlines Arena! Do you think any of the Miami Heat stars will be in the front row? It would be awesome to meet LeBron or D-Wade or Bosh! Current Miami is going to be the greatest NBA team? Imagine getting one of them to join me in the ring!

Anwyl continues to walk backwards, luckily dodging objects left and right

Anwyl: I mean they had THE MAILMAN! Karl Malone and Dennis Rodman on WCW back in the day. Imagine Wade kicking the shit outta O’Rion...

Anwyl walks straight into the chest of O’Rion.

O’Rion: Kicking the shit out of me, bye?

Anwyl is startled and jumps behind the camera man

O’Rion: (laughs) you’re still nothing Rookie Blunder! You are lucky Abel Steel sided with you

Anwyl begins to gain a little more confidence, and stands in front of his camera man

Anwyl: I am NOT a rookie blunder! I am THE FUTURE!

O’Rion: The future of what? You still haven’t proved yourself yet! You haven’t beat anyone of considerable talent yet

Anwyl: I didn’t give in, never gave up against Smitten!

O’Rion: Do you think I was going to let someone like you claim that title! Smitten was better, better than you!

Anwyl: I had him reaching...

O’Rion: You didn’t win, you can sugar coat it but you still lost! As did I, bye!

Anwyl: STOP SAYING BYE! I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS AND IT’S REALLY INFURIATING!

Anwyl explodes

O’Rion: See you in the ring, bye!

O’Rion brushes past Anwyl and begins walking away. Alex stops and turns towards Anwyl

O’Rion: Oh, by the way the ’96 Bulls would destroy Miami!

Anwyl looks frustrated; he begins to speed walk away

Anwyl: I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!



...I lived this double life

On one side my past, who is in a constant battle with my future, it pulls demons out for my social embarrassment. Always finding new ways to leave the bitter taste of regret on my tongue

On the other side, I have this character that begs and cries for mercy, but is still always asking more. You were created originally as a way to get away from it all, but just caused more problems.

It is when I come here that I can think clearly and understand and that you are no different to any of the others. Only you make it worse by covering my eyes in the dark. While I am in your place, you can blind me, but it won’t last forever. You expect me to believe that you can change my world. When you had two of them already

You owned me; you have owned me since I was fifteen years old. The bloodshot trance, brain numb and the stumble of a walk, the double life morphed into one giant shit storm...

... Until I killed them both, a single shot. Passing through the vein in his left arm, and a trip to the E.R. Awaking eleven hours later, remembering only the tacos he had for dinner three nights ago and the slab of beer that he couldn’t remember drinking. They surround him, full of judgement. He was a sinner, who could forgive his misdeeds. At that moment he wished he'd died, but his mother said otherwise

'...this is your rebirth...'

The only words he heard from her mouth as he slipped back into the coma...

This was my rebirth, a new beginning
I seized the moment, and proved I had overcome my demons
I am an example of 'dominance' and 'invulnerability'
Bow down to me
As I am your GOD
AS I AM THE FUTURE!




The quote of Anwyl’s scrolls down the screen, his disenchanting voice echoing through the ears of the viewers as the slow dramatic music plays softly in the background. As the quote makes it to the last few words, the screen slowly reveals the silhouette of man sitting on a chair, the man tiles his head upwards revealing Anwyl, with a grim look on his face the light dims and fades to black.

A FMW Production montage displaying the brand logos and previous videos and match footage produced rolls through, with the various commentators and infamous quotes from former stars fills our ears with an incoherent noise, the screen fades to black.

A montage of Anwyl's previous matches through his years of being in the business, His theme music blasting as it switches between the rises and falls of his career, before stopping at the same silhouette before "Anwyl, My Curse" title is displayed in the lower left corner

As the scene changes once more, we are shown a man standing in front of the FMW logo, the name Frank Moore flashes on the screen and he begins talking


Moore: Already we have seen the first part of the ‘Anwyl, My Curse’ series. The series features and in depth look into substance abuse through the eyes of a professional wrestler, his friends, his family and his employers. Viewer discretion is advised as the following scene may shock and disgust many viewers. Thank you for watching

The scene fades to black as Anwyl reappears on the screen.

Anwyl: I was pretty bad at the beginning of 2009; umm I didn’t really have a direction. I had left Full Metal Wrestling as I feel I didn’t belong with the talent in New Era Wrestling. I was really having a hard time carrying everything. My girlfriend and I had broken up, so I was left out on my ass. When I reached True Wrestling Revived I was elevated to the Main Event, I was their biggest draw and I think I was that jacked up on performance enhancers and the joint, I couldn’t even wrestle half the time.

A video of Anwyl wrestling a local talent is shown; Anwyl attempts to perform a Hurricarana and lands on the back of his head.

Anwyl: Not only was I not performing well, I kept getting hurt, and I was given pain killing injections regularly... I almost died because of it

Anwyl is beginning to cry; he pulls a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket and begins to wipe his tears

Anwyl: I don’t remember much from doing it, all I remember was coming into the apartment I was sharing with another talent at the time and waking up with tubes coming out of my arms and nose and face. It was scary; it has been the scariest thing I had been involved in, in my life

Anwyl takes a few breathes to recollect

Anwyl: I remember my mother’s face, so drawn and tired and she sat by my bed and whispered into my ear, every time I woke out of the coma. Apparently I smiled at her a couple times, but I didn’t have any control over anything! When I regained strength I knew what I needed to do

We are shown a home video of Anwyl in rehab; he is sitting in a circle holding hands with other members as they tilt their heads back with their eyes closed.

Anwyl: I was admitted to drug rehabilitation, I hated being there! I was barred from weights and wrestling for the first month. I was allowed to hit the treadmill and stuff like that to keep fit. They just didn’t want me to set a trigger off in my head.

Anwyl changes position on the chair and adjusts his shirt as he continues speaking

Anwyl: I just, I just could handle it sometimes. A few times I went a little crazy, nightmares and stuff I just didn’t want to dream about. The doctors told me that a reason why I took the drugs was to escape from the reality of it all, I remember thinking about my current financial situation and the recession didn’t help either. I had lost a close friend to cancer and another to a car accident in only a few weeks. Pressure built up and it almost killed me. It literally almost killed me!

Anwyl rubs his eyes, clearing away the tears. He gets a little choked up and takes a deep breath. The intro to “All These Things I Have Done” by The Killers begins to play softly

Anwyl: After that moment I started living, I know it wasn’t good living, but it has got me where I am today... A year ago I wouldn’t have been able to step in the ring and work with the best of the best.... The two greatest moments in my career is taking Chris Austin head to head for the beginning of the Mount V match, in which was my big break into this company and losing to Christian Smitten only days ago, which has seen me raised up into a serious competitor for those second tier titles in FMW!

Anwyl starts to get more confident and less teary eyed as he begins to project his voice a little more.

Anwyl: My dream, my dream is to become the best in this business I cherish some much, I came so close to losing everything and now I am almost at the polar opposite of what I was. I am grateful to all those who had given me another chance when so many had turned their back on me. I am so close to realising my full positional, I am getting given opportunities inside the ring and outside. I am helping others with problems and I feel my career is back on track.

“I want to stand up
I want to let go
You know, you know
No, you don’t, you don’t
I want to shine on...”


Anwyl starts smiling as the lyrics begin to pick up


Anwyl: Every day I meet new people who tell me they suffer the same problem as me, I ask them what they are doing about it, if they can’t give a legitimate answer those people are not going to change. I was one of those people three years ago; I wanted people to take pity on me when I knew I wasn’t going to change...

“...I got soul, but I’m not a solider
I got soul, but I’m not a solider
I got soul, but I’m not a solider...”


I hated what I was, but I love what it has made me become.

A video montage of Anwyl in Full Metal Wrestling is shown, his first match against Jeff Watson, Anwyl holding onto the cage and pulling himself up at Mount V, Anwyl taking on GSW in the Tag Team Scramble and Anwyl attempting to make Christian G. Smitten submit. The scene ends with Anwyl punching towards the screen. The broadcast fades to black, while the song finishes.

Frank Moore reappears in the same setting as before


Moore: Thank you for watching the second instalment of ‘Anwyl, My Curse’, we will be back next time with more from Anwyl’s family, friends and former colleagues of Anwyl throughout the course of his career. Until next time, I am Frank Moore, and there is Moore where this has come from. Goodnight.

The screen fades to black and displays the Full Metal Wrestling logo in the bottom right hand corner.



“I died, a while ago actually
That night that needle was pierced into my arm
The death of me was there
In that moment, subconsciously I changed
I reinvented myself, Version 2.0
Faster, Better, Stronger
A new Anwyl
The 20th of July in the year 2009 marked the death of Jacob Anwar
The 19th of August in the year 2009 marked the birth of Anwyl
Here I stand, a new man
And much better than you
I am Invincible
I AM ANWYL!
I AM THE FUTURE” ...”




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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeSun Oct 16, 2011 11:42 am

Ammunition 14.3
From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida


Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum
Blind vote, no real reason

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)
I've become a Gray Inferno mark, hence the vote. But obviously whoever shows, wins.

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters
I mark for these two, and I'd like to see them continue with their massive push.

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus
Levi, despite not having shown yet, has been very consistent in showing as of late. Rampage has not.

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten
I've said before that I think Austin should be in the Main event. I'd like him to win this one for that reason. Not that CGS shouldn't be there as well. I'd honestly vote CGS if both men showed, because I don't like the C4 champ looking weak, but... c'est la vie.

Main Event
Tag Team Match

Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
I like what these two have done recently, particularly Anwyl. I'd like to see them pick up what would be a big win for them over two FMW greats. Anwyl looked really strong in the C4 match last show, and I'd like to see that continue for a guy who shows up so consistently.
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeSun Oct 16, 2011 5:35 pm

Crying Over Spilled Booze


Hey Shark Nation… it’s your leader (haha), Son of Shark Boy here. You know, it always dumbfounds me that people choose a day of the year to dress like I do or dress like their favorite wrestler. Heck, I wear the mask every day. Either way, it’s surprising that land-lovers dress just like I do, or even more flamboyant than I ever do. I’m just a screen-print t-shirt and denim lover on the side.

Before I go off on a tangent about my wardrobe choices, I should tell you about the ‘Monster’s Ball’ StormMaster (through Reggie and Peyton) was hosting to take a break from training for our match against Slegnadamus and Butters. I decided to wear a shark-skull style mask and an old CM Punk ribcage t-shirt to get in the mood, wearing a little black make-up around the eyes. Though I hate the look, he said it added to my living dead look. Reggie and Peyton decided to be a horse, but since they forgot to talk it over, they were both the ass end. That was funnier than the Linguist trying one of my spare masks.


Reggie: The fuck, Peyton?! You were supposed to wear the head!

Peyton: No… I thought that I texted you about me being the rear end!

Reggie: I thought you were coming out of the closet, you fairy cunt… bitch!

While they argued, some of the rising stars from different feds and FMW were attending, as well as a few ladies that I wouldn’t mind the company of. A guest that impressed me with his costume dressed like a red-haired Michael Jackson from that one music video The Linguist showed me. StormMaster himself looked a bit like an obese Storm Trooper with Reggie and Peyton helping him to finish his look. I talked to the Linguist, who was dressed like a detective called “Sherlock Holmes” (whoever he was).

The Linguist: SoSB wants all of us to celebrate this holiday, and not be arguing about an obvious lack of communication.

Reggie: You do look like a nerd-assed queer dressed up like that, Linguist!

That was a notion I agreed with, though I decided that it would’ve been wise not to disclose it to my manager.

The Linguist: At least I don’t look like a wanker being a part of a horse that’s all ass!

Reggie: Fine, you get that one.

Peyton: Everyone’s still sober… Must’ve forgotten to spike the punch.

Reggie: No wonder you are an ass-for-brains pussy!

Stopping the argument, I told them through the Linguist that the punch they originally had out was disgusting, and I threw it out and made a new batch. Alcohol makes me queasy. And both of StormMaster’s managers looked at me as if I was sushi. I must’ve done something wrong for them to look at me in that manner.

Reggie: Did you know what you fuckin’ did, Shark Bitch? You just ruined our chances of bedding a few of the beauties here!

Peyton: And wasted a paycheck’s worth of the good vodka, gin, and scotch!

The Linguist: Hey, don’t blame him for not having the same taste in punch, but he’s 18, and underage drinking is wrong, Reggie.

Peyton: Oh… that Straight Edge queer dude is here, as well… We should’ve thought to make two separate punches anyways.

Reggie: But that doesn’t excuse the bad waste of expensive booze that went down the drain! Maybe next time, we’ll get grain alcohol.

Suddenly the sound of thunder and a flash of lightning went off simultaneously, leaving the party in the dark. Suddenly StormMaster spoke as two lights equally spaced out started to glow within the pitch-black darkness.

StormMaster: Slegnadamus and Butters are Storm Chasers… but Son of Shark Boy and StormMaster will give them a storm that they cannot weather. Their Hallow’s Eve will be even more of a Thriller after they get blown away by a Perfect Storm combination.

The power soon came back on, with everyone looking around, and StormMaster was back to staying as stiff as a stonefish setting a trap for its prey. Everyone was checking on themselves, including myself.

Reggie: Okay who died?

The Linguist: Forget who died; I believe StormMaster just talked.

Peyton: Yeah, we didn’t set up a murder mystery party, Reggie.

Reggie: Do you remember what he said during the ruckus, Linguist?

The Linguist nodded, and told them briefly what my tag team partner said. For a big man, StormMaster seems to be less talkative, or hungry for that matter.

The Linguist: I think we should take it easy on the booze tonight, and in the morning, we’ll train for the match against SlegnaButters.

Reggie: I thought those whiny bitches would be called ‘Slutters?’

I flinched, and I said something to the Linguist about how that name sounded familiar to a derogatory term for a nymphomaniac.

The Linguist: Yeah… sounds a bit too derogatory for my client to call them… that.

Peyton: Son of a bitch! Why don’t you grow a thicker skin, SoSB?!

I was ready to challenge Horse’s Ass #2 on that aspect. The Linguist held me back from doing something too rash.

The Linguist: This is supposed to be a party right? We need some better music.

Reggie: This bitch is absolutely right! I’ll hit the DJ booth.

Peyton: I’ll keep check on the sound system to make sure everything goes okay… don’t need to hear any more bitchin’ from anyone tonight. Especially from you, Reggie.

Reggie: Bite my ass, Peyton!

Peyton: Mark a spot; you’re all ass!

Despite the temporary power outage and the two stooges crying over spilled alcohol, we had a pretty good party. The next day, we continued training for the match against SlegnaButters. Just because we beaten the team before, doesn’t mean they came up with new tricks, so we conditioned ourselves to prepare for anything. Slegna and Butters, you won’t get any form of a win that easily from the combined prowess of both the Deep Sea Sensation and StormMaster. So be ready.

Happy Halloween, Shark Nation, and we’ll see you at Ammunition!

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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeSun Oct 16, 2011 6:26 pm

Voice: Peyton?

As the scene opens inside the locker rooms of Son of Shark Boy and Stormmaster, both Peyton and The Linguist are in the middle of a conversation about fish bizarrely, it ended up with The Linguist showing Son of Shark Boy's fin and his...anyway. Next to Peyton and The Linguist is Stormmaster who appears to be not moving at all. Well there's a surprise.

Meanwhile, Reggie is looking around trying to find his partner in crime.


Reggie: There you are.

Peyton turned and faced Reggie who appears to be breathing a bit heavily.

Peyton: You look like you just ran a marathon, what the flying fuck is wrong with you?

Reggie: I...I just found out our fate for the next show...

Linguist: Let me guess, we're facing two dudes who thinks that they are sheep and butter.

Reggie: How the fuck did you know 'bout that?

Linguist: I read the match card dumbfuck.

At this point, Son of Shark Boy enters with a pint of water in his hands, he then grabs a chair and places it next to Stormmaster who is still not moving a muscle. Son of Shark Boy looks at his tag team partner briefly, shakes his head in disbelief then drinks the entire pint of water in one full gulp.

Reggie: Gross.

Linguist: He does that to keep himself alive.

Reggie: Nigger, if I drank a pint of Magners my lungs would practically dry out.

Linquist: You Americans don't drink Irish Cider.

Reggie: I know but that's all the shit they had in our local.

Peyton: I prefer Guinness myself.

Sexy PA Lady Voice: Son of Shark Boy and Stormmaster to the GM office please. Son of Shark Boy and Stormmaster to the GM office please, thank you.

Reggie: Ah what now? These niggers have nothing on us.

Peyton: Shut it and follow us. Sharky boy, you coming?

Son of Shark Boy nods in agreement then follows The Linguist, Reggie and Peyton out of the locker room leaving only Stormmaster motionless in the middle of the room. As the door slams shut, Stormmaster's eyes glows red then suddenly...movement!

Stormmaster looks around his locker room with interest then swings his arms anti clockwise making sure that they are both functional. He stops and turns to face the cameraman who seems to be shaking in fear by the presence of Stormmaster.


Stormmaster: LET STORMMASTER TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!

The cameraman jumps back slightly, he or she wasn't expecting Stormmaster to talk at all. While focused onto the camera, Stormmaster continues to speak.

Stormmaster: Me and Son of Shark Boy go way back. In fact, me and Son of Shark Boy were simply...what do you say...manufactured and born from out of scrapheap thrown into your local dump site.

Stormmaster finds a chair and places it in the middle of the room then sits, nearly breaking it at the same time.

Stormmaster: You see, Stormmaster will see Slegna and Butters at Ammunition 14.3. Stormmaster will whip up a storm and the booty gold will soon be ashore.

Suddenly we hear mumblings in the background, Stormmaster turns and notices the noise and gets up, breaking the metal chair at the same time.

Stormmaster: Whoops, Stormmaster will have to leave that chair there and not bother to fix it.

From out of nowhere, a voice suddenly blasts out...

Voice: Nigger, why does Son of Shark Boy have to take the pinfall?

Stormmaster: Stormmaster will see you boys at 14.3, be prepared. A storm is brewing.

Stormmaster returns to the exact same spot that he has been standing on for pretty much most of the promo now as now Stormmaster shuts himself down and remains motionless.

Suddenly, Stormmaster's locker room door opens and in storms Reggie with Peyton, The Linguist and Son of Shark Boy who seem to be both demused by the recent events.


Reggie: Why does that shark cunt 'ave to take the pinfall?

Peyton: We have gone over this twice already. Stormmaster is simply just too big.

Reggie: Nigger you do realise...

The Linguist turns to face Peyton.

The Linguist: Does he always call you a nigger?

Peyton: Yes but I'm not Black, I'm White.

Reggie: Look it doesn't matter if your black or white, the chances of Stormmaster getting a pin is simply just...

We fade out of this scene with Son of Shark Boy figuring out what mask he was going to wear for the party which is happening the night before Ammunition 14.3. Stormmaster however remains motionless with only his two red eyes glowing briefly then he sleeps getting himself ready for the match later on in the program. Peyton, Reggie and The Linguist however are having a dick measuring contest. We can only find out where this is leading.
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 7:58 am

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Tumblr_l7xc30fCaU1qa1id2o1_500

Christian G. Smitten sits in an office at the FMW head office in Canada. The man is busy at work, when he hears a knock on the door.

Smitten: Yes?

Intern: Mr. Smitten, I’ve been told to let you know that you’ll be facing Chris Austin this week on Ammunition.

Smitten: Excellent.

Intern: And that you’re going to have to catch a train to get there.

Smitten: A train?

Intern: Yes.

Smitten: We’re a multi-billion dollar entertainment company, and I need to catch... the train.

Intern: That’s right sir.

Smitten: Did you book the fare?

Intern: No, I’m just the messenger.

Smitten: I guess it would be unfair to shoot the messenger, but I know someone who deserves a good smack in the teeth over this.

Standing up from behind his desk, Smitten walks over to the wall. On the wall is a glass box with the words “In case of emergency time travel” in bold red letters on the glass. Smitten smashes it with his forhead, and takes a small, gunlike thing from inside it.

Smitten: I HATE TRAINS!!!!

With that, he shoots to his direct front, hitting the inturn. Instead of falling to the ground, the Intern is sucked into a wormhole. Smitten doesn’t hesitate as he jumps in after him.

After what seemed like only 5 words, Smitten reappears on the other side of the wormhole. Next to him, is the intern


Intern: Where in Wallaby are we?

Smitten: You’re Australian?

Intern: The accent didn’t give it away?

Smitten: You’re forgetting a sir there “mate”.

Intern: You just shot me, and catapaulted me back in time. Fuck off with the “sir”.

Smitten: Well, I guess a certain Wallaby doesn’t want to go back to the future then.

Intern: Not really. I don’t want to live in a reality where New Zealand is in the Rugby World Cup finals, and Australia isn’t.

Smitten: You’re boring me.

Intern: Typical American attitude.

Smitten: I’m glad you asked that Intern.

Intern: I didn’t ask anything.

Smitten: You see, we’re here in 1888 for one thing. To destroy the first train that travelled from Japan to France on a single trailer of coal.

Intern: I don’t think that ever happened. You’re making it up.

Smitten: Maybe.

Intern: And how is this supposed to be preparing you for your rubber match with Chris Austin?

Smitten: BECAUSE I’M A JUDGE, THAT’S WHY!!!

The intern rolls his eye. Smitten notices this, and looks confused. The intern, frustrated, retorts back to Smitten.

Intern: What? I got a prosthetic eye, I can’t roll it.

Smitten: You freak...

Intern: Classy.

Thomas: Why do you want to destroy a train?

Smitten: AHH... Thomas the Tank Engine!!! What are you doing back here in 1888?

Intern: I might have given him an open invitation to join me on a time travel adventure.

Smitten: Well that was Stupid!! He’s the reason why I hate trains!!!

Intern: Thomas the Tank is?

Smitten: Growing up in the orphanage, Thomas the Tank Engine would be shown every day at 4:30. It always scared me. Always.

Intern: It’s not exactly scary mate. I’ve been more scared by a Wallaby.

Smitten: But Wallabies are adorable.

Intern: Did you know that Chris Austin once punched a Wallaby?

Smitten: I must avenge that poor creature, but first, I need to do something more important. Thomas, Intern, you’re about to witness something spectacular.

With that, Smitten’s legs turn into rocket jets, and he flies away, leaving the Intern and Thomas the Tank engine, alone. The Intern just turns and faces the famous train.

Intern: Sorry, I didn’t expect this would be us having a time travel adventure together.

Thomas: No, it’s ok.

Intern: I’m still confused as to why he’s using this as preparation for a match with Chris Austin. The man is Smitten’s greatest opponent, surely there’s better things to be doing than time travelling to prepare for their rubber match.

Thomas: I guess OH NO!!!

Right before their eyes, in flies Smitten, on a collision course with an innocent train that sits meer yards away. Smitten hits it full on, knocking the train clear off the tracks.

Intern: Yeah... you’ve proven your point here Smitten. You moron.

Smitten: Hey, shut up. You try preparing for a match with deep and meaningful stuff while you’re getting evicted.

Intern: Only 20 words ago, you were way over there, now you’re here.

Smitten: My promo, I do what I want. And I want to go back home.

Intern: None of this is going to make any sort of impact at all.

Smitten: Let’s just end on the image of the sideways train so I can face Chris Austin already...

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread ASFGJKL


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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 9:14 am

Ammunition 14.3[/color]
From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida



Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match

Anwyl and Abel Steele
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 1:37 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe)

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 1:39 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)
Come on, Gray... we need a winner, here.

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus
We need a little more RAMPAGE!

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match

Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
Me = Major Anwyl mark.
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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 4:03 pm

Ammunition 14.3
From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida


Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick


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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 4:28 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe)

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE

Non-Title Match
Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 5:24 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick




Last edited by the nick bryson on Mon Oct 17, 2011 9:53 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 5:57 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick


Last edited by Ashburn on Mon Oct 17, 2011 7:15 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Nicholas Gray
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 6:47 pm

It stands in front of a window, thousands of feet above the ground, overlooking the city It holds in It's hand. The sun beginning to set, informing the “good” people that it was time to retire to their homes, lest they be out when the moon rises, signaling the “bad things” to come out and enjoy their time in the world. One of the unending cycles that bind everything.

It was tired of cycles, of the shackles that had bound It for as far back as It's memory could stretch. It would shatter all of them, the only remaining thing binding everything together would be It.

But not yet.

First, It had something to be sure of. A theory.

It finally paid attention to the hulking behemoth behind It, standing in the shadows of the corner of the room. Light blue and twice the height of It, it rippled with strength.

Him: So, you understand your mission?

Behemoth: Of course I did. Do not treat me as if I'm the same as the Beasts.

Him: Heh. My mistake. In that case, you can stop wasting time and perform your mission.

The Behemoth snorts, but turns and stomps out of the room to put it's skin back on. It could feel the behemoth's animosity towards It, but It did not feel threatened, nor to even put much thought into it. It was insignificant. And, if It was right, it wouldn't matter.

It smiled as It looked back over It's city, It's world.

Him: Let's see which one of us is correct...Mr. Gray.



I still feel pretty shitty, if you're wondering.

It's been a few days since I was beaten down by some cops, and I've spent them in the office. It's not fear that's kept me from leaving, but I'm unsure how to continue. Having trouble coming up with a plan. I didn't know how many officers were tainted by Them, nor did I know who wasn't. All I knew was that a librarian was missing, his girlfriend was becoming more and more despondent over it, and I was just sitting around doing nothing. That pissed me off.

There's a knock at the door.

Voice: Mr. Gray? Please open the door. I need to speak to you.

I recognize the voice. From the library, and from the beating. No, not again. I open a desk drawer and pull out a pistol. I keep it there mainly as a just in case, I prefer my fists. But better safe than sorry.

Gray: It's open.

I hide behind where the door swings to, and wait for him to walk in. Young guy, couldn't be more than 24, but at least in good shape. Accent's pretty cool.

Officer: Mr. Gray?

I step forward and press the pistol against the back of his head.

Gray: Not again. Hands in the air, or I'll beat you worse than you guys did me.

Officer: I wasn't involved in that...

Gray: I always remember a voice.

Officer: It...was the others. I didn't understand why. That's why I came here.

Gray: Oh, sure, right. And you're alone.

Officer: I am.

Gray: Come on. Why would you come to the house of a guy who broke into a library alone?

Officer: I..talked to some people, trying to find out about you. They said you were a good person, that you helped them when things got bad for them...when police officers refused to help.

Gray: Yeah, I've been hearing from a lot of clients that you guys haven't been very helpful.

Officer: That's part of it. The people I work with...they're getting weird.

Gray: How so?

Officer: A bit...more forceful with suspects? They talk louder and act more boastful now, like doing their duty is a competition with each other they have to win.

Early stage then.

Gray: That confirms some things. Alright, fine.

I shove the gun into my belt and let the kid turn around.

Gray: Who're you?

Officer: My name is Rafael, Mr. Gray. Rafael-

Gray: Listen, I don't care for your whole name kid. Just the first is all I need to talk to you. Let me ask you, what do you know about that room in the library?

I fucking refuse to say The Forbidden Room again.

Rafael: Not much...my senior then's usual partner was out sick, so I got dragged along. He didn't tell me anything. It didn't make sense.

Gray: Trust me, there's a lot about this that doesn't make sense, even for me.

Rafael: Is there anything you can tell me?

Gray: I'll tell you on the way.

Rafael: Way to where?

Gray: Library, we're getting into that room and checking everything.

Rafael: That...won't help.

Gray: What? Why?

Rafael: After you broke in, they decided to move everything in there to somewhere else. A safer place, they said.

Shit. There goes that plan.

Gray: Alright...that's a problem. I'll figure it out as we go, alright? The office probably isn't the best place to be right now.

Rafael: Why?

Gray: You've been asking people about me. Someone will have heard.

Before he can ask me what I'm talking about, I grab a fedora off the rack and walk out the door, him behind me. Sirens are approaching.

Gray: Where's your car?

Rafael: Behind the building.

Gray: Good, come on.

As we get over to his car, I hear shouting behind us. I turn and see two of them at the head of the alley, shouting at us. I look back at the kid. Need to keep him good in their eyes.

So I jam my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, and I shove him into the passenger's seat. I turn back, yanking the pistol out of my belt, and fire a few shots off into the alley. Aimed at the walls, but they don't know that, and they dive for cover, giving me time to get into the driver's seat and drive off onto the road.

Rafael: Was that necessary!?

Gray: Do you want to be called an accomplice to a fugitive?

Rafael: Well...no...

Gray: Exactly. You're more useful when they're on your side.

Rafael: ...It still hurt.

Gray: Hey, sometimes you got to work stiff.

Are those sirens?

Yeah, those are sirens. Shit.

I look in the rearview mirror and see two police cars following us, and probably there'll be more in a minute. Honestly? I've been wanting something like this to happen. I mean, it's not everyday I get to be in a car chase.

Gray: Don't worry.

Rafael: Eh?!

Gray: I watched a lot of NASCAR growing up.

I put the pedal to the metal (Shut up I've always wanted to say that), and we shot forward. Luckily the road was deserted at the moment so we were good. Of course, getting away from them would be a problem. Need to do some quick risk calculating.

Rafael: Who the hell watches NASCAR?!

If they are those things, then their own self-preservation is highest to everything else.

Gray: I grew up in Georgia! The hell else you expect me to watch!

The chances of them stopping are high enough.

Rafael: What've I gotten into...

If I'm wrong I'll cut my fingers off to make up for it.

I pull off onto a ramp, and get onto the freeway. I hope I'm right.

Rafael: Eh?! There's too many people!

Gray: Don't worry. I think I'm right.

I gun it and start weaving around the other cars. So far so good. There's two more cop cars coming after us now. I remember riding up here a few days ago, and there was some construction work being done. Shouldn't be done by now.

There's a traffic jam up ahead, almost too perfectly placed. Right ahead of where I needed to be. Someone had crashed, hit the barrier, and messed it up. They were replacing it, so there wasn't anything there to keep the coming and going lanes apart for just about the length of a car. I really hope this trick still works.

I press on the brakes, turning the car towards the gap. I pull the handbrake long enough for it to spin the correct way, and I gun it. We fit through perfectly, and now going down the opposite lanes with the rest of traffic. I look back, and the cop cars had stopped well before the traffic jam. No one had hit anyone. I guessed right. Good.

Not so good was the sirens now approaching from both sides now.

A rise in the road shows a half mile ahead, and another three cop cars coming from behind.

Rafael: Oh no...

Gray: Okay, don't worry. We're really lucky that roadblock is that far ahead.

Rafael: It's not that far!

Gray: For this it is.

The gap isn't the only thing being worked on. To try and cut down on traffic, they're building a bridge over the river to give another connection point between the parts of the city. It's only been started though, so it's basically just some orange cones and some wood stacked next to the river.

The wood is positioned well enough to be a ramp.

Gray: So, good news. There was something else I watched a lot growing up.

Rafael: ...what?

I start to turn to the ramp, and he realizes.

Gray: Dukes of Hazzard.

Rafael: Nonononononono!

We hit the wood, and some of it cracks, but we're airborne. Right over the river. There's a part of me that wants to scream out a “Yeee-haw” or a “Fuck the police,” but I think the kid next to me is scared enough as it is. Next car chase. I glance up at the rearview and see the cop cars have stopped around where we jumped. Heh, suckers. One of them seems to be laying on the roof of a van. That's od-wait...is that a rifle?

Oh.

Oh shit.

A window cracking, and a sudden terrible pain in my neck. The pain sends me spiraling into darkness quickly.

SPLASH



I can't breathe.

I'm barely here, my mind hazy. There's a terrible pain in my neck, and my lungs are burning. Cold...drowning? Did we miss the jump?

Something's got my arms, dragging me. My head breaks through the cold, and I'm on solid ground. My savior drops me on the ground, as I try to get air back into my lungs. It's hard, water blocking it? Not sure. Not good.

And then a fist collides with my face. And then a second time, and a third time. It helps, surprisingly, forcing the water in my lungs to be coughed up, and I think a bit of blood too. It fits in well with the blood coming out of my neck, which is doing a wonderful job of warming me up from my impromptu swim. I crack my eyes open and see Rafael standing over me, also soaking wet and breathing hard, likely from punching me multiple times. And maybe that whole plunging a car in the river thing. Though I don't think he was punching me to help me. Probably should say something to calm him down.

Gray: ...Well that didn't work.

Or I could say that. That works too.

Rafael: No, really, you think!? What was the first clue, getting shot, or plunging into water?!

Gray: I'd say the shooting...yeah, definitely the shooting. How is it?

He sighs and looks at my neck.

Rafael: It's not as bad as it could be. It grazed you pretty hard, but it didn't go in. We need to get you to a doctor.

Gray: No.

Rafael: What?

Gray: No. Nay. Whatever you want to say. I'm wanted, and anyone around me would be in danger. Not putting a doctor's office at risk. We just need to bandage it.

He shakes his head, and looks like he's going to argue. But then he just reaches down beside him and picks up a bag, unzipping it he pulls out a roll of bandage.

Rafael: You'll have to keep pressure on it.

Gray: Uh, that's not gonna do me much good after that dip in the water.

Rafael: It's a waterproof satchel. You can never be too prepared.

Gray: Well shit, ain't I lucky.

Rafael: You're an idiot.

Gray: Yeah, I get that a lot.

He shakes his head and presses the bandage against the wound.

Rafael: Sorry, I can't do much better than that.

Gray: It's good enough.

Then again, I don't really NEED it...but I don't need to be freaking this kid out. I press my hand against it and get back to my feet. The car's submerged completely. Anything that could've helped me with this is now at the bottom of the riverbed. Damn. Have to think fast. Now, if these guys are using everything at their disposal, they'd have equipment I'll never have.

Wiretaps.

That's it.

Gray: Come on, I need to find a phone.

I start to walk up the bank, and find us on a street in a...how's the nice way to put it? Dilapidated corpse town? Yes, that's the nice way to put it. It's a shit hole. But there's a payphone near the end of it, and that's good enough.

I walk over and grab the receiver, jamming a wet quarter into it so it'll let me dial Hippy's home phone. Calling his cell wouldn't work. He sounds relieved when he picks up.

Hippy: Oh man I'm so glad you called. I tried to go by the office but there were police officers everywhere! They interrogated me on the spot for a bit, demanding to know where you were. They said you kidnapped an officer and fired a gun at others!

Gray: Yeah well only half of that is true. There wasn't any kidnapping.

Hippy: Why would you shoot at cops!?

Gray: I had my reasons. Can't share 'em. Listen, I need you to come by...

I lean back and take note of where the hell we were.

Gray: The corner of Morgan and Watch, alright? In about 45 minutes. Don't ride your bicycle or anything, take your sister's car. I'll see you soon.

Before he can question me more I slam the receiver down.

Rafael: What was that for?

Gray: If they're smart, they'll be tapping my friends phones. So I just told them where to find us.

Rafael: Wouldn't they know already? I mean, the immediate vicinity around where the car went into the water would be the obvious one.

Gray: Trust me, the ones calling the shots have their reasons for thinking I'd be far away.

I start to walk away, to get into position when I hear a, what is that a gasp, behind me.

Shit, the bandage fell off.

Rafael: How...

I run my fingers along the wound, now nearly sealed shut. Near completely healed.

Gray: ...That happens. Listen. There's things going on here that you don't want to know about. It's probably best if you go home.

Rafael: And this has to do with the other guys?

Gray: Yeah.

Rafael: How?

Gray: I don't know the details just yet. But I can guess the broad strokes and the string pulling.

Rafael: It's bad?

Gray: Yeah. Pretty bad.

Rafael: People in danger?

Gray: Plenty of them.

Rafael: Then I can't leave.

Gray: Hm?

Rafael: I'm a police officer. It's my duty to protect people.

Can't help but smile. Kid might be naïve and not listening to logic. Now who does that remind me of?

Gray: You're alright kid.

He nods.

Rafael: Right. What's the plan?

There's an alley adjacent to the pay phone. I look up at a fire escape overlooking the phone and grin.

Gray: Oh...I have an idea or two.



The car pulls up not even ten minutes later. Two of them get out, hands going to their holsters, scanning the area for the fugitive or his hostage.

They should look up.

I jump off the railing, and use the first cop's face as my landing pad. Out. I crouch from the landing and yank his gun from his holster, aiming it at the other one, who's still pulling his out.

Gray: Uh-uh. Drop it.

He drops it to the ground and I kick it away as I step towards him. Where have I seen his face befor-it's the cocksucker who spit in my face.

Gray: I remember you.

I rear back and hit him in the jaw, and he drops hard. I jam my foot into his stomach twice, but stop before the third. Can't let my anger get the best of me. Rafael pops up from behind a dumpster, looking concerned for the prick on the ground.

Rafael: The beating isn't necessary.

Gray: He spit in my face. But it's cool, I'm fine. He's not though.

Officer Prick: The hell you doing here rookie?

Rafael: ..sorry, sir.

I grab him by the hair and jam the pistol under his chin. I wouldn't pull the trigger, but he doesn't know that.

Gray: Now, how about you and I have a little conversation, huh? I'll ask you some questions, and you'll give me some helpful answers. If not, well...I don't want to be the one cleaning up the mess there'll be.

He looks scared, which I have no problem admitting feels good. He spit in my face, I'm allowed to enjoy his fear.

Officer Prick: It's...not what you think!

Gray: Oh, really? So you guys gang beating me was actually the standard invitation to the police ball? Don't give me that shit.

Officer Prick: I'm just...following orders.

...No.

I lean forward, and put on my best slasher smile. Given what I used to do, I'm quite sure it's a convincing one.

Gray: If there's one thing I hate in this world...it's that sorry ass excuse. My finger hates it too, and when it hates something it has a habit of just GOING OFF!

Officer Prick: Okay, okay! Oh God, okay! We're doing missions for the sheriff for extra money!

Rafael: Sheriff Browning?

Officer Prick: Who else?! We only have one sheriff you backstabbing traitor!

Gray: Hey, don't yell at him, you're talking to me. It's not polite to just start talking to someone else in the middle of a conversation, is it? My finger hates that too. Now tell me more about these missions.

Officer Prick: It's just...stuff like patrolling the library and some corporate buildings...make sure no one goes snooping around.

Gray: And kick their guts in if they do. Oh, and you're forgetting the kidnapping part.

Officer Prick: What?

Gray: Derek. He's a librarian. He got seen going in and out of that room.

Officer Prick: I don't...what are you talking about? We just patrol! We don't kidnap people!

God damn it. Somehow, this doesn't surprise me. Someone else has the answers about Derek. And I think it's obvious who can give me them.

Gray: Alright then. I thank you for your helpful contribution, Officer.

I stand up, and kick him in the face. Out. Now that, THAT felt good. I stick the gun in my belt and start getting their handcuffs off their belts and cuffing them. They'll be coming with me.

Rafael: So what now?

Gray: Well, it wasn't these guys who kidnapped Derek. But if the Sheriff wanted that room in the library un-snooped in, then he's the next lead.

Rafael: He's kind of reclusive.

Gray: Eh, I've got a plan in mind.

Rafael: I do too. Listen, the chief of police is a friend of my father's for a good year or so now. I can talk to him about this and see if I can get something done. He should believe me.

Gray: Not a bad plan at all. You do that, and I'll do mine. One of us should be able to get some good information. Take their car, they won't need it.

Rafael: What about them?

I look up the street and see Hippy in his sister's car driving towards us.

Gray: Like I said, I've got a plan in mind.

Rafael: That's your friend?

Gray: Errrr...friend is a STRONG word. Acquaintance that I wish I didn't need is a better term.

Rafael: Um...right. I'll have to meet him later.

Gray: Trust me, you don't.

Rafael: That's my choice. Be careful.

Gray: Bah. Careful is boring. I make it showy.

Rafael: Hah. Right.

He gets into their car and drives off as Hippy parks where it just was. He gets out and looks actually frightened at the fact I have two restrained cops next to me.

Gray: G'morning.

Hippy: What happened!?

Gray: Stuff. Listen, can't talk about that now. Get the back door open so I can get these guys in.

We push the two over onto the back seat and I grab the keys from him.

Hippy: Woah, my sister said there's no chance of you being allowed to drive it.

Gray: 'kay, whatever, she ain't here. Get in, and I'll tell you the plan.

He sighs and acquiesces, getting into the passenger as I start the car up. He looks at me expectantly as I start the car moving. Have to make sure we're going fast enough he can't get out.

Hippy: Gray, come on. What's this plan?

I look at him and grin, from the look on his face I might've been keeping the slasher smile going. Oh well.

Gray: It's simple. We're gonna kidnap a sheriff.

And we drive off to our destination, Hippy trying desperately to get the car door to open.

TO BE CONTINUED
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Nicholas Gray
FMW World Tag Team Champion
FMW World Tag Team Champion
Nicholas Gray


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Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Nicholas Gray
Championship: FMW Tag Team Championship

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 6:49 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Seanawott




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Championship:

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 7:13 pm

The scene opens with Osiris sitting on a chair.

Osiris: Listen, I'm not going to waste anyone's time by talking to people about how I'm going to lead GSW to rule over FMW. I'm just here to say two things.


One, Josh Woodrum will be my final opponent. I will destroy him and than retire from in-ring competition. However, and this is my second point, a relative of mine will be making his return, and I will be his manager.

Cousin, enter.

A medium haired man enters the frame, his face not shown. He speaks.

???: God damn it, Kayden. You're always late to these shows. You're killing me. I'm rarely, if ever, late to that other promotion I'm in.

Osiris: You're lucky you're a family member, otherwise I would kill you right now.

???: Shut up and go get ready for your retirement match. I wanna say something to the people in FMW.

Osiris rolls his eyes and walks out of the frame. The mystery man turns around and reveals himself as...

Sean Jensen.


Jensen: I'm back. Miss me? No? Good. I didn't miss any of you either. Here's the thing, Kayden has an issue with being in public. He's got some sort of mental disorder that nobody really gives a damn about. He has asked me to fill in for him in the GSW crusade against FMW.

Now, I don't know jack about GSW, but anyone who wants to fight against FMW is a friend of mine.

GSW, you just earned yourselves a valuable ally.
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Seanawott




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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 7:41 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe)

Singles Match
Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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David GS
FMW Anarchy Ultraviolent Champion
FMW Anarchy Ultraviolent Champion



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Age : 32
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FMW Superstar: David GS
Championship: FMW Television Championship

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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 7:46 pm


Ammunition 14.3
From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida



Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match

Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Leviticastform
FMW C-4 Champion
FMW C-4 Champion
Leviticastform


Posts : 349
Rep : 3
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Age : 41
Location : Arkansas

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FMW Superstar: Leviticus
Championship:

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Leviticus Promo 14   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 9:39 pm

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:
1Peter 5:8


Leviticus sat there surrounded by complete and utter darkness. It frustrated him that he couldn’t see anything but it worried him that he couldn’t hear anything either. He was there, alone, with his thoughts. He didn’t like being alone with his thought because his thoughts always seemed to want to go places he didn’t. That was why he had always come across as such a training machine, the more he worked the less he had to deal with his thoughts and the better he became in the long run when it came to in ring action. It all worked out nicely in the end.

Then again, there were still moments like this. No light, no sound, nothing but him alone with his thoughts. His mind went back to the events that had happened right before this darkness rose up to greet him. He had just left the arena after a victory over Abel Steele, and was by his car when he was assaulted. He remembered feeling the pain in his neck. He remembered seeing the man standing above him as he slid toward the ground. He even remembered the last words he heard before the darkness took him.


We got him sir.

We got him sir.

We got him sir.


Suddenly, the darkness that had surrounded Leviticus was replaced by an almost blinding light. Leviticus squinted and tried his best to adjust his eyes. He hadn’t tried moving when the darkness was around him because he had figured he was out cold. Now that he could see this light though, he tried his best to move around. Much to his surprise though, he found that he couldn’t move. His still squinted eyes looked down to the rest of his body, which he found to be covered in a stark white rope. His midsection was bound and as near as he could tell everything else was to. As his eyes began to adjust to the bright light a horrible realization swept over him. He was tied up, a spotlight was on him in an otherwise dark room; this was not going to end well. As he struggled against his bonds Leviticus did the only other thing he could think of.

Leviticus: Who’s there?

Leviticus’s voice rang out through the darkness but no reply came back. He sat there for a moment as the worry that was overcoming him began to transition into full on fear.

Leviticus: WHO’S THERE?

Again there was no answer. Leviticus struggled even harder against his bonds as the silence continued to come. He wasn’t sure who had brought him here but he had no intentions of waiting around to see. His struggling stopped as the sound of footsteps made his body go rigid.

Leviticus: WHO’S THERE?

Again Leviticus heard his own voice travel out into the darkness, but this time there was an answer.

Shh

Shh

Shh


The harsh hiss seemed to come from everywhere at once. Leviticus shifted nervously in his seat as he tried to listen for any other sounds that whoever was hiding in the darkness might make. As he sat there the footsteps began again. This time they drew even closer then they had before. Leviticus leaned forward slightly to see who it was that was there watching him from the darkness.

**************************************************************************************

OCTOBER 1991

Leviticus had always hated Halloween. He didn’t hate it for the typical reason that post Preacher’s kids hated it. He hated it because even though he knew the Lord was looking over him he always felt like something evil was watching him on Halloween. He wasn’t sure what that evil thing was; he just knew it was there. Tonight was even worse though. He was supposed to join his dad at the Church for their Halloween alternative but a storm had blown in and that made the idea of riding his bike to the Church become impossible. His dad had called and told him that as soon as everything was set up he would be back at the house to pick him up. So Leviticus sat there on the couch, wearing his costume, waiting for his dad. He had switched on the television while he waited. He figured that if he watched something the time would pass faster. He held the remote control in his hand and flipped through a few channels before he stopped on one that was playing a horror movie. Leviticus knew his dad didn’t normally approve of these kinds of movies and that made the thrill of watching it that much more appealing. With a smile on his face he sat back on the couch and watched as the white masked killer stalked the babysitters of a small Illinois neighborhood.

BANG

BANG

BANG


Leviticus jumped at the sudden noise. He took a deep breath as he tried his best to calm his rapidly beating heart.

Leviticus: It’s just the wind.

BANG

BANG

BANG


The noise came again which did little to ease his fears. He slowly climbed to his feet and headed toward the window to take a look outside in the hopes that he could see whatever it was that the wind was blowing against the house. As he neared the window he did his best to swallow his fear.

BANG

BANG

BANG


Leviticus jumped again. He grabbed at his chest as he continued slowly toward the window. A few steps later Leviticus stood in front of the window. He held his breath as he slowly pressed his face against the glass. That was when he saw it.

In the distance he saw a figure that seemed to be just outside of the light. Startled Leviticus took a step back and his heart began to race again. Even though he couldn’t see the details of the figure he knew what it was. He knew that the evil thing that had been watching was right outside. As Leviticus took a step back he began to utter a small prayer.


Leviticus: Heavenly Father…

Unfortunately his prayer was cut short when the sound came again.

BANG

BANG

BANG



Leviticus couldn’t help but scream. As he stood there trying his best to calm down he glanced toward the window again.

There it was. Its face was pressed against the window. It wasn’t quite a face though. Whatever the thing was it had hidden its face behind a latex mask. The mask was a thing of terror all by itself. It gave the wearer the appearance of a sinister looking devil. Leviticus froze in fear as he examined the details of the mask. Its sharp teeth seemed to be grinning at him and the blackness behind the eyes gave the appearance as though they were looking right into Leviticus’s soul.

Leviticus began to slowly back away from the window when the horned figure pounded its fist against the glass.


BANG

BANG

BANG


Leviticus screamed as he ran away from the window. He didn’t know what to do; all he knew was that he had do get away from that thing. He ran through the house and toward the door. He had to make sure it was locked so whatever was at the window couldn’t get in. As soon as he got close enough to see the door his heart was filled with dread.

The handle was already turning.

Leviticus collapsed to the floor in a trembling shaking heap. He had never been so scared in his whole life. He wasn’t sure what was lurking behind that mask, but he was afraid he was about to find out. His wide eyes staid focused on the door as it slowly opened.


Anthony: Levi?

A wave of relief washed over Leviticus as he heard his dad’s voice. He quickly leapt to his feet and rushed toward his dad who was standing there dripping wet in the doorway and threw his arms around him. His dad just chuckled and put an arm around his son.

Anthony: I’m glad to see you to.

Leviticus continued to hug his dad and enjoy the feeling of security it brought him. As he did though he couldn’t help but look toward the window. Much to his relief it was gone. He wasn’t sure what was behind that mask, he just hoped he would never have to see it again.

**************************************************************************************

Leviticus felt his body go rigid as a latex devil mask appeared just at the edge of the light. It was the thing from his childhood right down to the evil grin.

Devil: Hello Levi.

Leviticus turned his face away from the devil and closed his eyes tightly.

Leviticus: You aren’t real.

Suddenly the thing in the mask began to laugh which made Leviticus shake even more.

Devil: Yes, I am.

Leviticus still sat there with his eyes closed.

Leviticus: What do you want?

The thing laughed again. Leviticus wanted to face it but the fear was just too much.

Devil: I came to warn you.

Leviticus knew it was getting closer. He knew this because he could hear the sound of breath being taken inside the latex.

Devil: You have been upsetting some associates of mine.

Leviticus still couldn’t face it but he had to know what it was talking about.

Leviticus: How?

The breathing was closer now.

Devil: Several things Levi, most of all your recent alliance with the clown.

Leviticus felt the rigidness in his body go away. His eyes were still closed but he wasn’t as afraid now.

Leviticus: Justus?

The answer that came back sounded almost like a hiss.

Devil: Yes.

Leviticus smirked a little. This warning came because they were afraid.

Leviticus: So you are asking me to stop spreading the word of God.

Again the hiss like answer came.

Devil: Yes.

Leviticus slowly opened his eyes.

Leviticus: I can’t do that.

Leviticus heard a sound that was similar to metal scraping against metal.

Devil: You will.

Leviticus’s smirk grew even bigger.

Leviticus: And what if I don’t?

Leviticus turned his head to face the devil in front of him. Much to Leviticus’s surprise the devil had a long knife in its hand. Before Leviticus had time to react the devil leapt on top of him forcing the chair he was tied to over. He hit the ground with a hard thud that sent shockwaves through his back and neck. The devil quickly put the edge of the knife to Leviticus’s throat.

Devil: Then you will die Leviticus!

His name seemed to echo as the fear came over Leviticus once again.

Leviticus!

Leviticus!

Leviticus!


**************************************************************************************

King: Leviticus!

Leviticus’s eyes snapped open. He felt his fist lash out toward the person speaking his name. Luckily King was quick enough to dodge. He hurriedly sat up and looked around.

Leviticus: Where am I?

King crouched down by Leviticus and gave him a quick look over.

King: Outside the arena. It looks like you passed out or something.

Leviticus took a deep breath. Maybe that’s all it was but the memories of the man stabbing him in the neck with the needle were too vivid to ignore.

Leviticus: Did you see anyone else out here?

King shook his head.

King: Should I have?

Leviticus frowned. Maybe the stress of everything was getting to him and causing his mind and his body to behave strangely.

Leviticus: I guess not.

King helped Leviticus to his feet. As soon as the two men were standing again King produced a piece of paper from his pocket.

King: I hung around for a little bit to get this.

Leviticus took the paper and scanned over it. It was a listing of the matches for the next show. It didn’t take him long to find his name. As soon as he found his name he looked directly across from it to see who his opponent was.

Leviticus: Rampage.

King smiled.

King: Brilliant isn’t it? I mean, you scored a big win against Steele and now you can follow it up by beating another big name from FMW.

Leviticus smiled as well. Maybe King was right. Maybe things were finally starting to work in their favor for a change. If that was the case then perhaps there wasn’t as much to stress about as he thought.

Leviticus: Sounds like a plan to me.

Leviticus reached toward his pocket to get his car keys when he spotted them on the ground. With a frown he bent down to pick them up.

King: Just take it easy until then. I mean you aren’t any good to us if you keep passing out in parking lots.

As Leviticus stood back up he looked at King.

Leviticus: I’ll take it easy I promise. I’ll even check in with the trainers in Florida. Sorry, about trying to hit you by the way.

King shook his head.

King: It’s all good. You must have been having one intense nightmare.

Leviticus couldn’t help but smile. A nightmare, that’s all it was.

Leviticus: I was, but I have a feeling I’m only going to be having good dreams after I beat Rampage.

The two friends shared a laugh at Leviticus’s cheesy joke.

King: Alright man, I’ll see you in Miami.

Leviticus nodded as he unlocked his car door.

Leviticus: Count on it.

Leviticus climbed in his car and sat there for a moment as King walked away. A nightmare wasn’t a big deal, after all it wasn’t the first one he had had since he started wrestling. He just had to do what he always did, dismiss it and move on. He couldn’t let something like a nightmare hold him back when there was still so much to do. Leviticus turned the key in the ignition and the car hummed to life.

Leviticus: Rampage huh? I bet he won’t feel the same way he did at the Ultimatum Fanfest when I lay him out in the middle of the ring.

He chuckled a little as he shifted the car into drive.

Leviticus: I’m going to rampage over Rampage.

As Leviticus laughed at yet another cheesy joke he had made he pulled out of the arena parking lot. As he did though he never saw the grinning devil mask watching him from the shadows.
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Leviticastform
FMW C-4 Champion
FMW C-4 Champion
Leviticastform


Posts : 349
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Age : 41
Location : Arkansas

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Leviticus
Championship:

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Leviticus Votes   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 9:42 pm

Ammunition 14.3
From the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida


Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick

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Damien
FMW World Tag Team Champion
FMW World Tag Team Champion



Posts : 583
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Age : 32
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FMW Superstar: Damien Inferno
Championship:

Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 10:27 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Drake Parker
FMW Television Champion
FMW Television Champion



Posts : 679
Rep : 0
Join date : 2010-09-01
Age : 30
Location : The Dark Side

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FMW Superstar: Drake Parker
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:21 pm

King: Oh for fucks sake.

King slams his cell down on the table and let's out a truly impressive stream of curses.

Tiny: What's the issue?

King: This fucking company. No wonder they can't keep young talent around.

Tiny: You're still skipping the part about the problem.

King: Since I showed up they've been throwing me in tag matches against some of the best teams FMW has to offer.

Tiny: I think most people would be excited about the fact that their first several matches were title matches.

King: And most people would be. It just pisses me off that the fucking company's method of burying GSW is to throw rookies into big matchups. As good as I am, no one, not even me, expected me to win.

Tiny: And they were right.

King: No fucking kidding. Now I finally get a singles match, guess who it's against?

Tiny: Bozo the clown?

King: You really aren't funny Tiny.

Tiny: Yeah, and you're a bitch. What's your point?

King: Grey. Nick Grey.

Tiny: It's Gray.

King: I don't fucking- wait. What?

Tiny: Gray, with an “a”.

King: What?

Tiny: You were spelling it with an “e”.

King: How the fuck could you.... never mind. So my first single's match is against the man I've faced almost every single week since I joined this god damned company. He's beaten me time and time again, so of course, who else will they pick to face me in my first real chance to shine.

Tiny: You think they're feeding you too him?

King: Well, I've put up a fight every week, but it's also Nick who takes me out. He threw me out in the battle royal, he suplexed me off a ladder and then he pinned me. Management obviously wants him to look good against me, but lord knows why. This is supposed to be my big moment, but it's going to end up being Nick Gray's instead.

Tiny: Wow.... you are a bitch.

King: What was that?

Tiny: You. Are. A. Bitch. So what if this guy has beaten you before, so what if management wants him to win? You're talking like you've already lost, bitching and moaning about how your big moment got stolen away. What the fuck is wrong with you?

King: What do you expect?

Tiny: I expect you to act like a man. True or false, Gray has been a thorn in your side for a while.

King: True.

Tiny: True or False: You have a singles match with Gray tonight.

King: True...

A sly grin flashes on King's face as he catches Tiny's drift.

Tiny: True or false, beating Gray here will finally silence your nay-sayers.

King: Fuck yes!

Tiny: I can promise you one thing, though.

King: Oh? What's that?

Tiny: You ain't winning shit if you don't train! Get moving!

King: Fine.....

Tiny and King get on their feet and head into the gym.
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Drake Parker
FMW Television Champion
FMW Television Champion



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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:22 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Bobino




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Age : 37
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FMW Superstar: Butters
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:39 pm

It's not healthy... The voice we hear belongs to one half of the Comeback kids, Slegnadamous.

You're wrong, there's nothing wrong with me wanting to do my job tonight. I'm going out there, giving them a video clip about Shark and Shock, and then getting ready to throw down. Butters shakes his head, looking a bit frenzied as he gets ready.

Dude, it's not a normal night. It's not just us getting ready for a match... you know this isn't right... Slegnadamous stands in front of Butters blocking his path.

Let me do my job... Stay out of my business. There's nothing wrong... and you can't stop me. Butters shoves his friend to the side and takes a few steps towards the door.

Fine, whatever you say, Bob... ignore everything. Keep your head in the clouds, and everything will be fine. Slegna steps aside letting Butters pass.

I'm here to do my job. Nothing is wrong, nothing's going to stop me from doing that.Butters walks out the door with Slegnadamous shaking his head behind him.

~*~

Hey veiwers, Veronica Cherrywood here, and I'm joined yet again by one half of the Comeback kids, Butters! So, Butters, last week you guys came up short again... and Son of Sharkboy and Stormmaster came out on top. What are you going to do different this week to change the outcome?Veronica moves the microphone for Butters to respond.

Passion... anger... and drive... Last time, we had all of these, but there was a variable. They may have won... but we never lost. This week... they are forced to not be some other people that the Comeback Kids already weakened, but instead... meet us face-to-face...erm... face-to-mask. This time... we'll see who leaves as the best. Butters face stays stern as he answers.

Well, while that's all true, most people are saying that this new team has everything the Comeback kids had... and they do it better. What do you say to critics who think you guys have been replaced?

Butters chuckles, oddly enough without his facial expression changing a bit. I welcome them to try and replace us. We're not some side-show, we're not a flash in the pan. The Comeback Kids are here to compete and prove that you can never underestimate anybody at anytime. Let people talk, we're going to go out and put on a show for people that still believe in competition. I'm going out to fight for myself, for Slegnadamous, and for anyone out there that needs motivation. They can try... but they'll never replace Butters.

Veronica nods in agreement as she continues,Well, I can see that you are -- She is suddenly cut off by a voice off screen.

Never underestimate anything at anytime, really brother? The man steps onto screen revealing a man not seen in FMW for years.

Kr-Kr-Krisko... what are you doing here? Butters expression is blank as he watches as if he's seen a ghost.

You know why I'm here... She needs us, Bob. You're here preaching of passion and drive... yet the one person that's been passionate and backed you up the entire time is laying in a hospital and needs you. This interview isn't required, this time can be replaced... you just need an excuse to ignore reality... that's not mentally healthy, big brother... Krisko tilts his head to the side as he smiles oddly at his brother.

No. No, that's not what's going on, that's not right, and there's nothing wrong with me... I'll see her when she gets out... there's no need to make a big deal of this... I'm fine... get out of here!! Butters shakes his head, and shoves his way past his brother.

Krisko shakes his head, a grin still plastered on his face. ...and they say I belonged in the loony bin...heh.. Krisko laughs to himself a bit as he looks at Veronica, and simply walks away, following his brother.
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Bobino




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FMW Superstar: Butters
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:40 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Abel Steele
Head Writer
Head Writer
Abel Steele


Posts : 986
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Age : 44
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FMW Superstar: Abel Steele
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:53 pm

Beep ,beep, beep, beep…..

Abel’s alarm rang out through the apartment, for about the tenth time today. Leaning over from his place on the couch Abel fumbled around without taking his eyes away from the TV screen.

Click.

The screeching of the alarm was replaced by the hum of his refrigerator, as the alarm went into ‘snooze’ mode once more. Abel glanced quickly at the clock as it ticked away quietly in the corner. He poured another shot of whiskey into his glass, then turned back to the TV.


One more game, then I’ll get ready…….


*******


Abel grabbed for a towel, water dripping down from his hair onto the cold hard tiles beneath his feet.

Big match tonight boy. Time to finish Doc off good a proper!

Abel had a set routine on the day of any match and he followed it religiously, or at least he normally did. For some reason he just didn’t seem to be able to get into the zone today.

As he finished drying himself he wandered into the living room, his gear for the match was all packed in his bag and ready to go. He passed by his gear, wrapped the towel around himself and switched on the play station. He grabbed up a bottle of Johnny Walker from his liquor cabinet and a glass from the shelf and poured a shot, neat, into the glass.


Just one game, then I’ll get ready…….


*******


For a moment Abel considered his options; drop his foot to the floor or pull over. The flashing lights in his rear vision mirror blazed in his eyes and he could see the headlines already:

“FMW Star drink drives his way to the big fight”

It probably wouldn’t get him fired, after all he was too valuable a commodity these days but it wouldn’t help him any either.

Planting his foot firmly on the pedal, Abel pulled over into an emergency lane and came to an abrupt stop.


What seems to be the problem officer?

Abel knew he reeked of alcohol, he never normally drank for two or three day before a match. But he was ok, he had two or three hours before he had to leave for the arena. Of course a trip to the precinct might prove somewhat problematic.

What’s the problem? Are you yanking my chain boy? You were all over the road, then you slam on your brakes so that I nearly rear end you and…sniff..sniff it smells like you got a brewery in there. Boy you are in a whole world of trouble! License and registration… NOW!

Abel reached over to his glove box and grabbed out the papers.

Say, you look familiar boy, what’s your name?

Steele…, Abel Steele.

As in The Abel Steele?

The office leant into the car through the open window. As he did Abel could see the gag reflex on his face as the stench of alcohol fully hit him.

I can’t believe it! Abel Steele. Hey tell me, is that Chris Austin as big of a douche in real life as he comes across on screen?

Even bigger.

Abel winked at the officer, this was going very well.

Say, don’t you have a big fight tonight?

You could say that.

The officer glanced pointedly at the empty bottle of whiskey on the passenger seat.

So, uh…. What’s that about then.

That’s nothing. I got this one in the bag. Two old hacks against the new breed.

I’m sure you do. Say could you sign something for my kid?


Abel smiled to himself. This was going very well indeed. Sometimes it paid to be famous.

Just humour this guy a little longer, then I’ll get ready……



*******


The glass glided smoothly along the polished wood, stopping abruptly in Abel’s hand, a drop or two spilling over the rim and onto the bar.

Cheers mate.

Abel downed the contents in one go. He didn’t drink in bars that often. Too many wanted to pick a fight with the pro wrestler and former boxer so they could brag to their mates. Sure it always ended the same way but it just got annoying after a while.

Cheers. But I really should go. I have a huge match tonight.

The blokes beside him all downed their drinks in short order as well. If there was one thing you could count on about any Aussie bloke anywhere in the world, it was his ability to drink.

Awwww c’mon mate, one more won’t hurt ya! Our shout.

The last five had been their shout too. Abel certainly never drank this much on fight day either, but it wasn’t all that often he ran into a group of blokes from home either.

All right fellas, one more.

The blokes let out a collective cheer, as they ordered another round from the barman.

Then I’ll get ready……


*******


Abel stepped into the bar and looked around. He wouldn’t normally even enter a tavern on the morning of a fight but his mobile had gone flat and he needed to make a phone call.

Hey buddy, where’s your phone?

Without speaking the barman nodded to the dingiest corner of the bar.

Thanks mate.

As Abel made his way for the bar a group of men who looked like they had been drinking for hours despite it only being 11:30 stopped to look at him.

Hey you….

Great. This is why I don’t go to bars on fight day.

Abel paused and looked at the men.

Come have a drink with us mate.

Abel looked a little closer at the group and realised what they all had in common. R.M. Williams boots. They were all Aussies, most likely from the bush too by their clothes.

Normally he wouldn’t drink on fight day but it wasn’t every day he ran into a group of Aussie blokes either.


Well…. I gotta make a phone call fellas.

Their faces dropped at that.

But order me a whiskey and I’ll join you at the bar for one after that.

The boys grinned and the first guy ordered a whiskey, on the rocks, as Abel made his phone call.

One drink won’t hurt any, then I’ll get ready……


*******


Abel…. Abel….ABEL!!!

Abel’s head pounded and it felt like there was gravel in his eyes.

Why are you shouting?

A swift fist to the abdomen made Abel sit up straight. As he hunched over, doing his best not to empty his stomach he turned and found Eve glaring madly at him.

You are gonna be late Abel.

Late..? What are you talking about?

For the fight tonight, you called me from a payphone earlier to pick you up and take you.

A vague recollection of a bar came to mind.

Well sorry. How about you just leave me here? Anwyl can fight on his own.

This time a slap to the ear had Abel seeing stars, but it got him to his feet.

Right, now you get over there and put your clothes on. We’re going.

Yes ma’am.

Abel staggered to his gear and fumbled around trying to get dressed.

Oh for fuck’s sake!

Eve grabbed up Abel’s pants and helped him into them then yanked his shirt on over his head.

Why would you do this to yourself on fight night Abel?


*******


*******


Alex O’Rion… Hall of Famer.

John “Doc” Derrick. Former friend turned foe.

This should be a fight to look forward to.

Instead, I find myself bored.

Bored with my opponents,

Bored with my partner,

Bored with my career.

It wasn’t meant to be like this though. I was supposed to be the C-4 Champion by now.

That’s why I did what I had to do to Doc.

Instead I find myself back to square one.

Back at the bottom of the pack

And now I find myself asking…

Why?
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Abel Steele
Head Writer
Head Writer
Abel Steele


Posts : 986
Rep : 14
Join date : 2009-12-05
Age : 44
Location : Western Australia

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FMW Superstar: Abel Steele
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitimeMon Oct 17, 2011 11:54 pm

Singles Match
Kayden Osiris (w/ Crusoe) vs Josh Woodrum

Singles Match
Nicholas Gray (w/ Damien Inferno) vs Jonathan King (w/ Jeff Whitt and Crusoe)

Tag Team Match
SoSB and Stormmaster vs Slegna and Butters

Lumberjack Match
RAMPAGE vs Leviticus

Non-Title Match
Chris Austin vs Christian G Smitten

Main Event
Tag Team Match
Anwyl and Abel Steele vs Alex O'Rion and John "Doc" Derrick
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Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread   Ammunition 14.3 Voting and Promo Thread I_icon_minitime

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