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 Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread

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Edible14
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Posts : 717
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FMW Superstar: Apostasy
Championship: Abandoned Championship

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PostSubject: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 06, 2012 2:59 pm

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Cornewlogodraft

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Anarchylogo3


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Portland.RoseGarden1

We are backstage. Where Son of Sharkboy is lacing up his boots. He fastens a belt around himself, but the belt's face is hidden from the camera. Apostasy walks in.

Apostasy: Hey there, it's Son of Shark Boy!

Sharky shakes his head, and removes his belt. The Abandoned Championship is displayed with a new namepiece. It reads "King Sharpedo"

Apostasy: Interesting. I like the name change. And I like the belt. I just wanted to, once again, say congratulations. I don't have a rematch clause... but I hope I get to face you again, Shark...Sharpedo.

Apostasy extends his hand, and the Deep Sea Sensation shakes.

Apostasy: All in all, though, I had a pretty good run. Good enough to give me this.

Apostasy pulls up his replica Full Metal Championship, with his name and the word "Interim" taped across the face.

Apostasy: That's because I... was the best champion in Full Metal Wrestling. You... you've got some shoes to fill...

The Celt comes into the picture, wielding his Ultraviolent title. He stands behind Apostasy.

Celt: That's a funny tale you got there fella. But as I seem to remember, the Ultraviolent Championship is the premiere title on this brand. I mean... it's so big apparently they're creating a duplicate title over on Anarchy. It's so big... that I was the main event last week, not you.

Apostasy turns and looks over The Celt.

Apostasy: You know. I've said some things about you, Celt. Namely, that I'm a better champion. And just because I've got these... facts... pesky things those facts... like that I've beaten everyone you've beaten and then some, and that I've had more defenses, and...

Celt: You'd better watch it...

Apostasy: Point is... it's a bit harsh on my part. These disputes... who's the better champion... they aren't settled with words.

Apostasy adjusts and looks at his belt. He stares down both King Sharpedo and The Celt. The staredown is interrupted by GSW members Jeff Whitt and Matt Dunn.

Dunn: Whitt... I think we've just walked in on an intense, romantic, incredibly homosexual moment. Perhaps we should leave them to stare longingly at one another, less we see what happens next.

Whitt: I think... wouldn't that constitute bestiality? Isn't that illegal? Ugh... the trash that FMW condones here.

Celt: You fellas got a lot of nerve to think that I'd be putting up with a couple of GSW rats comin' into a Full Metal Wrestlin' locker room and insulting me. I got half a mind to kick your arse right now.

Suddenly, Jack Boice enters the frame.

Boice: Oh wow... this looks intense. Well... listen you guys... save this for later. Because I need a main event, and I think I've got it. You five... you're going into a match that Apostasy here wanted to do this week for the Abandoned Championship. But, well... you know how that went.

Apostasy: Wait... what? You don't mean...

Boice: I've read about it. It's a cool match. And it's tonight's main event. You five are going... THROUGH HELL AND BACK.

All five react to this in a mixture of fear and disgust.

Apostasy: But... hold on. What on earth will we be fighting for? What's going to be hanging from the ceiling?

Boice: I don't know. It'll be a briefcase... but what's in it? I don't even know! Yet. But... it'll be something good. I promise! Good luck out there!

Boice exits, leaving the five men staring down.


Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match

Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
???? vs ????

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match

Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson

*When voting for the UV tournament, vote for two winners and one participant to win in the second round


PROMO ONLY until Sunday, February 12th, at 6:00 PM EST
PROMO AND VOTING until Sunday, February 12th, 11:59 PM EST
VOTING ONLY until Monday, February 13th, 11:59 PM EST
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Shock

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FMW Superstar: Kuruk
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Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeTue Feb 07, 2012 10:53 pm

I left my home. My people. My place of being. I have come to the city to defeat many. I have come to the city to earn my pay. Because my home, my people, my place of being; they need me. Sickness and hunger and age have ravaged my tribe and my family. I have learned the true art of the warrior in my time, and I have used it to help my people before. Now, I must extend nothing but the pure spirit of my fighting heart to the ring. I pray to the waters and to the sky and to the Earth and to the Black Spirit to guide me on my way. In my heart are those who I am fighting for. I will do what I can to bring prosperity.

I am a warrior. I am the bear. I am Kuruk.


--------------------------------

The scene opens with a place in nature. A waterfall falls down into a large, glistening pool, around which is a large amount of red and brown rock and bright green moss. Small fish swim merrily in the pool, creating an extremely peaceful scene in which one could truly become one with nature. After a few moments, the scene shifts slightly to the right, where a man is scene climbing down the hill and over an edge into the area with the pool in it. This dark-skinned man wears nothing but small boots and some kind of deep blue shorts. He is a man of massive size, toned, fit, and muscular; the kind of person that always seems ready to brawl, especially emphasized by the gleaming silver tomahawk axe in his right hand. All these factors considered, however, he seems very calm and passive. He walks slowly to the edge of the pool and sits cross-legged at its edge. He stares at the pool and the fish for a moment, looks up and down the waterfall for another moment, and then looks straight into the waterfall, placing his hands on his knees. He begins to speak, in a strong, deep voice that is in some way, also soothing.

Kuruk: Elder of the waterfall, I am Kuruk. I seek guidance of what I must do in this upcoming battle. Please lend me your wisdom and kindness and knowledge of the spirits.

For the first time, another man is seen. He sits on a rock directly behind the waterfall, also cross-legged, clearly deep in meditation. The man, formerly with his eyes closed and hands on his hips, placed now one hand on his knee, the other stroking his long white beard that grows only from his chin as his green eyes watched Kuruk.

Bearded Man: You wish to know as I know and follow as I guide, but evidence must be shown first of your deserving. Tell me, as the guppy strokes in the river, how does it fall into the pond?

Kuruk: But how does a child walk without a mother to guide it?

Bearded Man: Ah, and how does a mother instill guidance in that which is not able to guide itself?

Kuruk: When the guppy reaches the pond, it becomes, in itself, the water.

Bearded Man: Yes indeed, my young friend. Allow me to come closer now.

The man goes straight through the waterfall, sitting on a smaller, lower rock right in front of it, almost as if it were made for him to do this. He is shown now to be wearing nothing but a thick cloth wrapping over his groin and waist. He looks ancient, but as though the pain of sitting under rough water has made him hard.

Bearded Man: I am called Lise, the waterfall elder. What is it you wish to know from the spirits of the falling river, warrior?

Kuruk: I come to seek not the peace or the caress of the waves, but the knowing and the fury of the raging waterfall. Tell me, elder, what does it mean to be “hardcore”?

Lise strokes his beard for a moment and speaks again.

Lise: Hardcore? I have heard this word before, and with it always comes blood and pain and weapons. If I may inquire myself, why do you seek knowledge about something so impurely destructive?

Kuruk: There is a battle I must engage in coming shortly. It is my first time fighting for my people in such an important way.

Lise: Your people?

Kuruk: Yes, elder. I am born of a small Apache tribe and trained as a warrior. I have volunteered to journey into what is called Full Metal Wrestling to earn pay for my fighting, so I may purchase food and tools that my people can use.

Lise: Hmm… yes, I have heard of this place. But why pick such a blood and anger filled place to earn pay?

Kuruk: I have been raised all my life as an elite warrior, elder. There is nothing else I know to do.

Lise: Indeed… so the flock continues south to know its warmth instead of freezing in the harshness of the ice. I see…

As Lise mumbles this to himself, stroking his beard, Kuruk stares on at him, his face completely impassive.

Lise: Who shall be in this war?

Kuruk: Three men. Rotunda, Andrews, and Vendetta, they are called.

Lise: Hm… to find “hardcore”, we must first find what it means to these three fighters, Kuruk. You must understand their names alone can be used against them.

Kuruk: Please explain, elder of the waterfall.

Lise begins to stroke his beard once more, closes his eyes for a moment, and then looks back at Kuruk.

Lise: Rotunda. This sounds like a man who would like to envelope everything into himself. He wants to claim dominion.

Kuruk: So his weakness is his insatiable need for power?

Lise: Yes. Very good. The second man. Andrews. Do you know where this name derives from, my boy?

Kuruk: No, elder.

Lise: It derives from a white religion where Andrew was a holy warrior, destined to fight for the gods. Perhaps he believes this of himself.

Kuruk: He also calls himself an “outlaw”. What is this term?

Lise: This only supports what I have said. An outlaw believes that they can do as they please, that they fight for good, but that the law is theirs to decide. His weakness is his arrogance.

Kuruk: I understand. And what of Vendetta?

Lise: This name is quite simple. What is a vendetta? Vengeance. Anger. Impure thoughts. He has named his targets and will use the powers at his disposal to carry out his misdeads.

Kuruk: I do not understand. What is his weakness then? He seems determined to do anything he can to succeed.

Lise: Precisely. He is determined. Too determined. He will focus on his target and only on his target, and he shall be blind to everything else. His blind fury will be his weakness, warrior.

Kuruk: I understand now their weaknesses, elder.

A moment of silence passes, and Kuruk speakes again.

Kuruk: You have not yet told me the meaning of hardcore.

Lise: Ah, yes. In a conventional sense, young Kuruk, it means to use weapons and unethical tactics to best opponents. You can use what you have learned of these men against them. Rotunda you may lure into thinking he has the power, and suddenly take it from him. Andrews you may catch unawares when he is attempting to show how incredible his talents are. With Vendetta, you must simply keep a level head and not get encapsulated by his anger.

Kuruk: I understand their weaknesses, wise elder, but tell me, what does hardcore mean to me?

Lise: You will find that answer yourself, my warrior. Come to the waterfall and feel its fury.

Lise moves back to the rock behind the waterfall. Kuruk sheds his boots and moves into the water, which comes up right under his chest. As he reaches the waterfall, it comes up to his upper leg, suggesting that the ground underwater is higher here. Lise speaks once more.

Lise: Now, I will train you and teach you the ways of the hardcore and the rage and power of the water spirits. You will stand directly under this waterfall and allow it to hammer you with all its might. Every time a salmon jumps from the pond into the air, I will hit you in the stomach. When the training is complete, it will be obvious.

Kuruk nods and stands directly under the waterfall, and the sound of the forceful water on his flesh and hair is heard from a small distance. After about ten minutes of simply standing, his fists clenched, a salmon jumps. Lise proceeds to punch straight into Kuruk’s stomach. Kuruk bends slightly and gasps quickly and then swiftly regains his composure under the waterfall. Lise nods and continues to watch.

It is not for another half hour that a salmon jumps again, and then five minutes after that, and fourteen minutes after that. Every time, Lise punches, and every time, Kuruk gasps. At random increments, salmons jump, Lise punches, Kuruk gasps. This continues for two hours and sunset begins to approach, Kuruk not giving in to the water at all, and Lise still sitting patiently.

A salmon jumps again, and Lise proceeds to punch again, but strangely, something happens. Kuruk inhales and gasps very slightly before the punch connects with his abdomen. Lise seems to notice this, raises an eyebrow, and nods, but says nothing. For the next two times that Lise punches Kuruk, Kuruk gasps right before the punch comes.

Finally, so long after Kuruk started this training, Lise punches once more, but the most extraordinary thing happens. When Lise throws the punch, Kuruk catches it, and throws one of his own into Lise’s stomach. Lise gasps, and puts a hand on Kuruk’s shoulder.


Lise: Very very good, young warrior. Step out of the waterfall.

Kuruk leaves the waterfall and goes back to the shore of the pond, as Lise returns to the smaller rock in front of the waterfall.

Lise: Have you found what hardcore means, young Kuruk?

Kuruk: I believe I have.

Lise: And what is that?

Kuruk: It means my oppoents will fight underhanded. They will use weapons and tactics that are deceiving and harmful to attack me. I must use this against them. I must use my own weapons, my own tactics, my own ways to win. I must show them the pure power of an apache warrior and the fury of a bear. A hardcore match simply means… that my claws are sharpened. I know what I have to do.

With the last sentence, Kuruk picks up his tomahawk, and smacks it into his other hand. He nods, and Lise nods back.

Lise: You are ready. Show them your better mind. But moreso, show them your better spirit and strength and power that the bear brings to the wood. Come down upon them like a furious waterfall and a rampant bear combined.

Kuruk: I will destroy them, elder Lise. I will claw them and I will beat them and I will do what I must to win, for my people.

Lise: Indeed. For your people. Incidentally, Kuruk, were you aware this whole time that I was not part of your people? That I am from an old rival tribe?

Kuruk: Yes, elder, I was completely aware from the moment I began my journey here.

Lise: Then why, ever, did you seek my guidance and not that of your own tribe’s?

Kuruk: Because, elder Lise of the waterfall, one must get inside his enemy’s head to defeat that enemy. One must respect that enemy and become one with them to rip them apart. Training with you was exactly what I needed. I am ready to destroy them all.

--------------------------------

I have arrived to win. To beat the best. To be the best. I have arrived and I am ready to fight. I have trained in spirits of the raging and furious waterfall and I shall know my opponents’ next moves before they know it themselves. I have trained my mind, and my body is long ready. For you see, the bear may hibernate, but it never truly sleeps. The bear is always ready to kill. The bear shall sharpen its claws and head into battle, head held high. I have my tomahawk. I have my spirit. I have my heart. I am prepared.

I am a warrior. I am the bear. I am Kuruk.


Last edited by Shock on Thu Feb 09, 2012 3:13 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Braxton
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HWU
Braxton


Posts : 438
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FMW Superstar: Sage and Santana Braxton
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeWed Feb 08, 2012 8:16 am

BAKING WITH THE BRAXTON TWINS

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread 1zf7psp Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread K524cw

While the setting of a kitchen would suit the lovely duo, Sage and Santana Braxton, 23, don’t make their livings as chefs or bakers; in fact, they feel most at home in a very different setting – a wrestling ring. The twins participated in a photoshoot with Starlette and sat down with Candice Petrelli to talk about everything, from growing up in Sydney to their road to becoming successful professional wrestlers.

Candice: It’s a privilege to chat with such strong women such as yourselves!

Sage: It’s great to be here.

Candice: Where does the story start for the Braxton Twins?

Santana: Well, Sage and I were born to very well off parents in the northern suburbs of Sydney. Sage and I have always been together, as twins usually are. We’ve done nearly everything together growing up. Sage is the greatest friend I could have asked for.

Sage: There’s never been any competition between the two of us since we’ve been amazing at everything we’ve ever done. Growing up with Santana has been a blast.

Candice: So you can honestly say that you’ve never had the urge to outdo the other?

Santana: Absolutely. As Sage said, we’re amazing at everything we’ve ever tried. There’s been no need to ‘outdo’ the other since we’ve already reached the climax. Even if there is something that I'm slightly better at than Sage, she balances it out by being slightly better than me at something. It works.

Sage: Even when it comes to our wrestling, we’re both great at what we do. We’re both incredible athletes so there’s been no need for competition between the two of us. We’re family, not foes.

Candice: Now, you have to tell me – how did beautiful women like you end up in professional wrestling?

Sage: (laughs) Well, Santana and I were always athletic as children; we both participated in different sports throughout our lives. I was the captain of the girls’ basketball team in high school and Santana was a top dancer. We both were part of the girls’ volleyball team and led our team to the championships 4 years in a row.

Santana: We also ran track as well and constantly set records for our high school.

Sage: We always had a little drive for competition and aggression as well. We put two and two together and thought that any sport that would use our aggression and drive to our benefit would be the right track for the both of us, and professional wrestling beckoned to us.

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Wr1qe
Sage Braxton is the stronger of the twins and thus competed in their first match for Full Metal Wrestling ending in victory against Runihura de Valentine.
“Sage is the greatest friend I could have asked for.” - Santana Braxton.

Candice: Wow! That’s amazing! You two sound like such superior athletes. Now, tell me, how did you first break into the wrestling business?

Santana: Well, our father was a very well respected businessman with a lot of friends and connections and at one of his work parties we met Gordon Mercedes who ran a local wrestling school. We got to talking and we found ourselves signing up to his wrestling school.

Sage: I can proudly admit that we were naturals when we first started. Gordon was very impressed with our apparent skill.

Candice: And were you the only women in your class?

Sage: We were, but that didn’t stop us. We found ourselves light-years ahead of our ‘classmates’ when it came to learning and picking up the basics. Right off the bat, I could tell that this is what we were meant to do.

Candice: You say that with such confidence and I find it refreshing! So you’ve never had any conflict with the guys because of your gender?

Santana: Oh of course not; if anything, we made fun of them for being inferior to us.

Candice: Strong words. Can you tell me about your first match?

Sage: It was a breeze. We competed at our high school, in fact, in a tag team match against two guys from another wrestling school. We competed in front of about 20 audience members but it didn’t bother me. We were absolutely superb.

Santana: And we won, of course. Everyone was impressed with our superior abilities.

Candice: So it’s normal for you two to compete against men?

Santana: Absolutely. We take on any newcomers; male, female, tall, short, fat, skinny. And we will beat them. 1, 2, 3. Done.

Sage: Men tend to underestimate us because we’re glamorous females so they think, “I won’t have to try so hard, I’m going up against a Barbie doll,” but that’s when we prove them wrong. Dead wrong.

Santana: We’re the ones laughing at them at the end of it.

Like she said, we’re Braxtons: we don’t breed ugly and we were made for victory.

Candice: So how long did it take for you to break out and become professionals?

Santana: About 4 years, which isn’t long at all compared to others who have broken out before us. Not that it surprised me because I was aware of how talented we were.

Sage: Our first wrestling company, Full Metal Wrestling, was practically begging us to join them and I don’t blame them.

Candice: For those of you who don’t know, Full Metal Wrestling is the wrestling promotion that the Braxton twins compete for. Now, between us girls, are there any romantic connections between you and any of the men at FMW? I’ve seen some of them and I must say, I find some to be extremely sexy.

Santana: (laughs) We don’t kiss and tell…

Candice: Oh, c’mon, let us in on your secrets!

Sage: (giggles quietly) Well, if you say so… well, romantic connection or not, we’ve taken quite a shine to Jonothan King. He’s as lovely as he is rich.

Santana: And good looking. I don’t know about Sage, but I quite like Blake Vendetta. He’s got a pizazz about him that I quite admire.

Sage: I like Blake, but Santana likes him a lot – I mean a lot.

Candice: Oooh, it sounds like romance.

Sage: Well, whatever it is, it won’t get in the way of our competition. I mean, if we had to go up against either one of them, you can bet your bottom dollar that we won’t hold anything back regardless of our feelings towards them.

Candice: How do you feel you are treated within the FMW community?

Santana: Well, to be honest, I think nearly everyone is jealous of us. I’m not going to name names but some of the men there weren’t very welcoming to us and it was apparent that they had jealousy issues.

Sage: Absolutely. I don’t feel as if there is need to treat us badly because we are lovely and kind young ladies.

Candice: So you would say that you have struggling relationships with some of the other competitors?

Sage: What does it even matter?

Santana: Back to wrestling…

Candice: Yes, yes, I apologise. Now, Sage, you recently made your in-ring debut in a match against a man named Runihura de Valentine. How did that turn out for you?

Santana: Well, she won – obviously.

Sage: It was no problem at all. Runihura, bless his soul, is a terrible athlete. I knew going in to the match that I was going to come out victorious and, shock horror, it happened. I could’ve gone in with a Vera Wang gown and a pair of Christian Louboutin’s on and I still would have beaten him.

Santana: And she done it all by herself. She’s simply amazing at what she does.

Candice: Congratulations Sage. From what I heard, there was a bit of a ruckus going on outside during the match with you, Santana, which led to Sage’s victory.

Santana: To be perfectly honest, I didn’t do anything to unfairly lead Sage to victory, it was all Sage.

Sage: Your sources need to be slapped in the face, Candice.

Candice: Seems like it, sorry. (clears her throat) On the upcoming Corruption show, Santana is set to take on the Stormmaster. What are your thoughts on this match?

Santana: I have complete confidence in myself that I will come out of this match victorious. He may be big and scary and tough and, between the three of us, a bit mentally disabled, but I’m a Braxton. Our family was made for victory. I have confidence in my ability and my talent and I know I can beat him without breaking a nail.

Sage: I have complete faith in my sister as well. I will be there to support her, of course, but she won’t need any unfair advantage to win. Like she said, we’re Braxtons: we don’t breed ugly and we were made for victory.

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread A0e544
Santana Braxton is the more girlie of the two. Don’t let her beauty distract you… otherwise your shoulders will be pinned to the mat for the 3 count.
“Growing up with Santana has been a blast.” - Sage Braxton.

Candice: That’s fantastic. Now, what are your plans for the future in Full Metal Wrestling?

Sage: Well, Santana and I have discussed our near-future plans and, well, we’re going to take Full Metal Wrestling by surprise. They’ve never witnessed anything as stunning and amazing as us.

Candice: And could you let us in on these secret plans of yours?

Santana: Of course not. They wouldn’t be a secret, otherwise.

Candice: Fair enough. Now, in conclusion, is there anything you would like to let the young women of Australia know who want to get into male-dominated industries such as yours?

Sage: Of course. Now, I know you won’t be as amazing as us at whatever you do, but it’s important that you strive to achieve your goals. Don’t listen to what those sexist males say and just do it.

Santana: Exactly. Yes, you won’t be as talented as us, but whatever. Do your best at whatever you want to do and you’ll do great! Not as great as us, but you’ll be sort of there.

Candice: Thank you for sitting with me today.

Santana: The pleasure’s all yours.

AFTER THE INTERVIEW...

Sage and Santana have left the set and Candice has stepped aside to call her boyfriend on her phone, looking visibly frustrated.

Candice: Nick! Hi! You won’t believe it. I just finished the interview with the twin wrestling chicks. Yeah. Those ones. I cannot believe the pure arrogance of them. You should’ve seen them. They couldn’t say a single bad thing about themselves. I struggled to keep a straight face. I was tempted to stand up and laugh at their perfect little faces. That was probably the most frustrating interview I’ve ever had to conduct. Yeah. Yeah! It was terrible, Nick, I can’t even begin to explain-

Candice stops mid-sentence when she sees the Braxtons standing next to her with sadistic looking smiles on their faces.

Candice: Sorry, Nick, I have to go.

Sage: I’m sorry, what was that?

Santana: Yeah, Candice, could you repeat that?

Candice opens her mouth to reply but she is too frightened to utter a single word.

Santana: What were you going to say to our perfect little faces, Candice?

Sage: Come on, tough girl, what did you say? Talk smack behind our backs but when we confront you, you’re frozen.

Santana shoves Candice back and Sage shoves her back into the wall. Candice is absolutely petrified and raises her hands as if to say “I surrender” but it seems as if the Braxton twins aren’t having any of it.

Sage: Come on, Candice, what did you want to say to us?

Candice: N-n-no-nothing, I-I-I d-d-didn’t-

Candice is stopped when Santana’s hand harshly comes across her face in a brutal open-handed slap which leaves her in a crumpled heap on the floor, holding onto her face in pain with tears in her eyes.

Santana: Next time, say it to our face, bitch!

Sage and Santana arrogantly flick their hair towards the fallen interviewer as they turn sharply on their heel and leave the set, proud of what they had just accomplished.

-

-

-

-

Guess what? I’m still hot.
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John Andrews

John Andrews


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Join date : 2011-02-08
Age : 34
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FMW Superstar: John Andrews
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeThu Feb 09, 2012 12:47 pm

Act One: Road to Nowhere...

I was looking back on my life
And all the things I've done to me
I'm still looking for the answers
I'm still searching for the key

The wreckage of my past keeps haunting me
It just won't leave me alone
I still find it all a mystery
Could it be a dream?

The road to nowhere leads to me

Through all the happiness and sorrow
I guess I'd do it all again
Live for today and not tomorrow
It's still the road that never ends
The road to nowhere leads to me...


Andrews: Kev... You're the man! Keeping things Hardcore for awhile I see...

Kevin "The Agent": Isn't that how she likes it?

Andrews: Yeah yeah... Let's get to business here. Alright this Kuruk guy what is his deal, medicine man figuring out the ways of the ropes?

Kevin "The Agent": Indian fellers a new comer... He is really out to scalp some "white men" just don't tell him your ancestry in the great state of Texas, otherwise he should be a push over. Basically John don't piss the red fella off understand?


Andrews: Right... I know a bit about Seth Rotunda he really is the only one I am actually concerned with in this match, the others are just a bunch of jobbers, Rotunda and I are the only real talent in this match. Wasn't there some other guy??

Kevin "The Agent": Blake Vendetta... Another one you should be worried about, John are you sure you're ready for this, I mean you don't have anyone watching your back on this, it's just you versus them.

Andrews: Story of my life Kev... Of course I am ready, a lot of people still think I took advantage of the opportunity provided last match, which I will admit I did, but that shows signs of experience and strategy. I have enough ring experience to navigate my way through the unknown, besides all else fails I have a back up plan this time...Andrews leaves the room and walks back in with a shopping cart full of weapons ranging from chairs, trash cans, baking sheets, and kendo sticks Besides if anyone can conquer an Indian, someone with a Vendetta, and Rotunda it surely is John Andrews

Kevin "The Agent": I see you went shopping this time... Oh and touche on the Hook'em Horns logo on the front of the cart, take it you're going to walk out cowboy hat and all?

Andrews: Ya know that isn't a bad idea...

Kevin "The Agent": How's your finances Johnny?

Andrews: Doin pretty good, especially after last show, we're just finishing up the mansion, i've started work on the ring just haven't decided if I am going to have a steel ring or a wood ring.

Kevin "The Agent": Good to hear John... Everything else alright?

Andrews: Yep can't complain, we're flyin out before the show to my parents ranch for my dad's birthday, i'll keep my conditioning and training up throughout, champions don't take breaks ya know

Kevin "The Agent": First you have to have some gold in order to say that...

Andrews: Soon enough Kev... Soon enough... I have high hopes after this one... New year, new attitude we aren't on some road to no where... We're movin forward buddy...

The two men walked out of the Agent's office and said their good byes before Andrews left
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Act Two: Words of Wisdom...

Andrews and his fiance Beth are seen walking up the stairs of Andrew's parent's ranch, Andrews carrying the brunt of the luggage with Andrews cursing each step...

Beth: I told you I could carry my own bags you stubborn mule...

Andrews Senior: (grinning)He always has been a stubborn jack-ass hasn't he...

Andrews: Hey, it's good conditioning... I have a match to prepare for...

Andrew's father hugged Beth and pointed to the door

Andrews Senior: Exactly what I need to talk to you about boy... Bethany, Cheyenne has lunch laid out on the table already, tell her we'll be a minute please...

Beth: Of course... she walked off giving Andrews a wink

Andrews: Is this going to be another one of your famous takes on life Dad?

Andrews Senior: It could be... and that doesn't mean you should shut it out either, you've come along way listening to my advice and Bethany is an example of that.

Andrews: Here we go...

Andrews Senior: I'm only trying to help you Johnny... Just humor me will you?

Andrews threw his hands up into the air

Andrews Senior: Point number one and listen close to this... Don't trust anyone, not even for a millisecond son. There are some people that will walk into your life and claim to be your ally and end up crossing you over in the long run or setting you up for their gain and leave you to the vultures when they're done with you. Your little agent has a thirst for fame and money, don't get drowned in his greed you hear?

Andrews: I am still the same person I was when I left here dad... Nothing's changed except my persona... As for Kevin, i've seen the dollar signs dancing around in his eyes but he's after the same thing I am, a chance to prove to everyone we are what we say we are... Greats...

Andrew's father pulled out a pair of leather gloves from behind him...

Andrews Senior: Son, the only thing you're great at is being a pain in the ass... and I mean that in a good way, your stubbornness to achieve has always been your flaw. Because well there is no telling you to stop once you've put your mind to something. I saved these for ya... Found them in the trash can the day before you left...

Andrews: Dad I...

Andrews Senior: A son never forgets his roots boy... It keeps him grounded and enables him to weather the storm. You can have the money, you can have the fame, the mansions, but when the nights over and it's just you... and the only real thing that you have left that means anything is that lovely girl inside... you'll know what I mean, now I want you to think about that...

Andrews grabbed the gloves and stormed off towards the barn

Cheyenne: Jacob where's Johnny i've been waiting for my hug far too long... Bethany has told me some great news, you're going to be a grandpa...

Andrews Senior: He headed to the barn... (he mumbled quietly)

Cheyenne: Why is he there... Jacob did you give him one of your words of wisdom pep talks again?

Andrews Senior: The boy needed it Cheyenne... He's losing grip of his roots... Riding around in expensive cars and living like a city slicker...

Cheyenne: We also wanted what was best for that boy... We also wanted a better life for him then what we had, besides he isn't our little boy anymore he is a young man whom is going to be responsible for his own family soon enough. We've raised him right... He knows the difference between right and wrong, besides Bethany would kick his ass if he did something out of the ordinary...

Andrews Senior: Yeah... Whatever... I'll take my lunch in the living room... Congratulations Bethany...

Cheyenne turned to Bethany...

Cheyenne: Like father like son... I sometimes wonder about that man, I know he means well with Johnny he just doesn't want him making the same mistakes he made...

Bethany: Johnny's come a long way Mrs. Andrews... I like to think he's staying on the right path...

Cheyenne: He will... Have you told him about the baby?

Bethany: Not yet... I am waiting for the right moment I guess... I don't know how he's going to handle it.

Cheyenne: Just tell him, you both will be fine...

Bethany turned and looked out the window towards the barn and saw Andrews stacking hay

Bethany: I hope... How long is he going to be out there?

Cheyenne: I give it another hour. They always do this... Things will settle down around dinner time though, Johnny's sister is coming over with her youngins...

Bethany: Wait... John has a sister? He's never told me that before...

Cheyenne: She's the runt of the litter I suppose you can say, she hated High School because of him, he beat up her prom date because he tried slow dancing with her, interesting thing is she ended up marrying the guy.

Bethany: That sounds like our Johnny. Her husband and him get along now or?

Cheyenne: They used to be best friends until he started dating Samantha... He's tried so hard to gain Johnny's friendship back but John just doesn't want to accept it.

Bethany: Guess i'll have to keep him on a short leash tonight then...

Cheyenne: Oh no girl you don't have to do that... Both them boys know there will be no fighting in this house or on this property...

Bethany: Sounds good... Alright well I don't want to eat without him so I am going to bring our meals out to the barn and have lunch with him and please don't tell him about the baby...

Cheyenne: Your secrets safe with me honey...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Act Three: Welcome to the Family

Everyone is seated at the Andrews dinner table talking nonchalant about recent events and on-goings before a knock at the door

Bethany: I'll get it...

Opening the door she realizes it is Johns younger sister and her husband

Bethany: You must be Samantha, i'm Bethany it's nice to meet you

Samantha: Like wise, John's told me so much about you, do you still wrestle?

Bethany: Nope, I am afraid to say i've hung my boots up for retirement at an insurance office back in Maryland

Samantha and her husband walked in, Cheyenne walked into the foyer and took their coats as Andrews looked on with distaste

Samantha: I heard you were one of the best female wrestlers at the time... glad to see my older brother found someone he has something in common with

Samantha's husband not wanting to be rude introduced himself

Dillon: Name's Dillon, very pleased to meet you

Bethany: All the same...

Bethany caught Andrews gaze before he rose from the dinner table and walked out the back door quietly

Bethany:Cheyenne i'm going to go out back for a bit save my seat

Cheyenne: Take your sweater with ya, it's a bit chilly outside tonight

Andrews sat on the back stairs and Bethany sat beside him

Andrews: I know what you're going to say...

Bethany: And that is?

Andrews: Quit pouting and go back inside...

Bethany: Actually quite the opposite... I was going to say it's a nice night out especially being able to see the stars and moon so clearly.

Andrews: It has always been nice out here on the ranch at night, it's funny I always dreamed of owning this place, I love it ya know, the wide open country. The calmness that surrounds it....

Bethany: Why don't you tell your dad that?

Andrews: HA... He will come up with some excuse that I am forgetting where I came from, no matter what I will never please that man...

Bethany: I think he is pleased with what you've done... I think he just has a hard time of showing his emotions ya know. You're not exactly the easiest to get along with at times, especially after you lose a match

She wrapped her arm around his back

Andrews: It's just annoying hearing the same "Life Lesson" and "Words of Wisdom" each and every time he gets a chance, but does it do it to my older brother or little sister? No... Just me...

Bethany: That should tell you something...

Andrews: That he annoys me then them? Tells me a lot...

Bethany: You really are stubborn when you're upset... What I mean is he's taking the time to talk to you because he doesn't want you to make the same mistakes. He sees something in you that he doesn't see in the other two... He does care John.

Andrews: Maybe you're right... But that still doesn't remove the fact that the man can be a pain...

Bethany: Look who's calling the kettle black dear... Now tell me... How come you never mentioned anything to me about your sister?

Andrews sighed

Andrews: I guess cause I knew you'd try forcing me to patch things up with her dumb ass of a husband...

Bethany: You know I respect your decisions... I wouldn't force you to do no such thing unless you wanted to, I just don't want this dinner turning into one of your damn wrestling matches.

Andrews: Don't worry about that... That happened at their wedding turned into an all out brawl... boy was momma pissed that day (Andrews Chuckled)

Bethany: John I am serious... There will be no fighting at that dinner table you hear me, now lets get back in before we both freeze...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Act Four: The Interview

Wrestling World Host: Alright you wrestling fans... Right now we're about to be joined by the one and only "Outlaw" John Andrews, we will be getting his views on the wrestling world and an update on his career with Full Metal Wrestling... Here he is ladies and gentlemen, from Houston, Texas... JOHN ANDREWS!

Andrews walked out the back to cheers and applause from the audience while his entrance played... Waving towards the crowd he walked to the chair near the talk show host whom greeted him with a hand shake

Wrestling World Host: Welcome to the show John...

Andrews: Hey I am glad to be here back home in Houston... It really means a lot to me...

Wrestling World Host: Now before we dig into your thoughts on the current wrestling universe lets start with your upcoming match on FMW's Corruption 15.3 in Portland. You're taking on three other superstars in a four way Hardcore match, last we saw you in action it was an eight-man tag against members of the Pack...

Andrews: Before you go any further I would like to say that by far was the easiest match i've ever been in and quiet frankly I think that was due to the fact the Pack wasn't focused entirely on the match at hand. If you go into the ring with other thoughts on your mind you're not going in one hundred percent. What we do in this business takes concentration and talent, pure and simple.

Wrestling World Host: So you're saying that if they had focused on the match and not the tag champs they may of won the match...

Andrews: I wouldn't go that far, I just think that it would of given the fans more bang for their buck. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a victory... and there were actually some that shunned me for taking advantage of the opportunity provided in the match by the Pack; however any veteran would of done the same thing in my shoes...

Wrestling World Host: Fair enough. Back to the 15.3 though John... This time it isn't a tag match, it is every man for himself I guess what I am trying to ask is who do you think would come out on top in this?

Andrews: Naturally everyone is going to expect me to say me, myself, and I... However I think the fans will be in for a treat... Rotunda and Vendetta could prove to be pretty good opponents as for Kuruk... He's sharpening his tomahawks and arrows... I mean personally this could turn into a good slug fest.

Wrestling World Host: Now the only one you've faced in the ring is Rotunda, can you elaborate on that a little?

Andrews: Interestingly enough the match you mention was the Rookie Battle Royal back at Mount V...

Wrestling World Host: A match that you won correct...

Andrews: That would be correct, that match put me on the path to face David GS for the Television Title... Unfortunately ol' David took the W that evening...

Wrestling World Host: By chance do you think you can give us an insight of what your tactics for going into this match...

Andrews: Honestly I would love to but I don't really want to give my opponents a one up on what I am going to do, besides it would make the match predictable and probably give me a loss...

Wrestling World Host: Very well... If you had to say you idolized anyone in FMW who would it be...

Andrews: You know that's a good question... Without actually having to think about it I would have to go with Chris Austin. The man is solid at what he does, a real formidable opponent, and just posses a down right natural charisma.

Wrestling World Host: He has been on our radar for quiet some time now as being one of the top tier one superstars of FMW, if you had the chance to wrestle him would you take it?

Andrews: Quiet honestly I don't think I am at Austin's level yet, I mean ya know I would love to do it... I have the ring experience from wrestling with other companies besides FMW, I just don't really think i've personally reached that caliber yet and I would think it would be disrespectful to the fans of FMW to try to step into the ring with that man...

Wrestling World Host: So you're saying we've finally found someone that you're afraid of?

Andrews: Not saying that I am afraid of him... More or less just stating that I think I would purely be wasting his time, I respect the man as a professional athlete enough to know my place...

Wrestling World Host: When do you think you would be ready to face someone like Chris Austin?

Andrews: I would have to say about three or four more months of conditioning and training... To make sure I am on par and actually up to the challenge. I've been working out steadily and also doing heavy cardio conditioning for long matches. I guess in the end I am just trying to prepare myself for achieving my goal.

Wrestling World Host: We're going to have to pause right there and cut to a commercial we will pick up on that when we come back...

Camera fades to an Insurance Commercial

Wrestling World Host: Welcome back fans... Today we're here with FMW Superstar, "Outlaw" John Andrews... So far he's discussed his upcoming match in Portland, Oregon at Corruption 15.3, now the Outlaw is fixing to elaborate on his long term goals with FMW... John you mentioned a goal your trying to achieve before we took the commercial break...

Andrews: That's correct... My overall goal for FMW is like any other superstar in this business and that is to go for a title. I know that seems classic cliche for every wrestling fan to hear a wrestler say, but I mean what are we in this business for if we aren't trying to challenge and further ourselves...

Wrestling World Host: Very well said... and true... is there any title specifically that your going after?

Andrews: At this time not really... I am not afraid to start at the bottom and work my way up...

Wrestling World Host: So we could hypothetically say you're in the hunt for whatever belt FMW's staff throws your way... Kinda like a dog waiting for a bone...

Andrews: I guess you could say that...

Wrestling World Host: Growing up as a kid what wrestler did you idolize?

Andrews: That's a big list... There were a lot that caught my interest...

Wrestling World Host: Okay give me your top five wrestlers then I am curious to hear what you have for tag teams...

Andrews: My number five would probably be Jake "The Snake" Roberts, an excellent man on the mic and just as deadly in the ring. Number four would be Owen Hart, extremely superb technician, with Chris Benoit taking the number three slot for the same reason...

Wrestling World Host: Big fan of the technicians are you?

Andrews: Of course... Technical wrestling is a fundamental that should be taught to every wrestler, power moves don't get you anywhere if and when you're on the mat yourself.

Wrestling World Host: True... Many would argue that they would never find themselves on the mat, although it seems everyone comes across someone bigger or smarter then themselves...

Andrews: Exactly... In this business you have to be a jack of all trades to survive unless you're in a hardcore match, then you better know how to brawl and swing a weapon... My number two would be Dustin Rhodes, he quiet frankly in my mind was a very underrated superstar, especially during the Goldust gimmick... My number one might actually surprise you... I am going to have to go with Diamond Dallas Page. I've always been a mark for the Diamond Cutter... and apparently so has Randy Orton...

Wrestling World Host: Interesting... Why Diamond Dallas Page?

Andrews: Well he seemed like your average joe capable of being the clutch kicker in many matches. Sometimes the underdog and never really afraid to back down from a fight. He may get his ass kicked but he dusts himself off and goes back in for more... How can you not admire talent like that?

Wrestling World Host:Interesting... So who would you say is your top tag team picks?

Andrews: Simple... 1. Legion of Doom, 2. Natural Disasters, 3. Harlem Heat, 4. Scott Hall/Kevin Nash, and 5. The Brothers of Destruction...

Wrestling World Host: Funny you have Harlem Heat and The Outsiders listed in the same category we were going to review their match at Halloween Havoc, as a matter of fact Chris can you queue that up for us...

Andrews: You don't see many matches like this anymore where the crowd is actually paying attention to the action in the ring and giving a good pop, classic...

Wrestling World Host: I agree Mr. Andrews... Well that does it for us for tonight folks... Thank you John for coming on and being our guest for the evening, we look forward to your match and wish you luck!

Andrews: Thanks... I appreciate it...
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Last edited by John Andrews on Thu Feb 09, 2012 5:56 pm; edited 6 times in total
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Vendetta

Vendetta


Posts : 232
Rep : 2
Join date : 2011-02-19
Age : 27
Location : United Kingdom

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Blake Vendetta
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Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: A Bad Case of Nostalgia - Blake Vendetta   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeThu Feb 09, 2012 2:24 pm


A BAD CASE OF NOSTALGIA

July 24th, 1996
Canberra, Australia
"When I didn't understand."





I can still smell it.

That sickly sweet scent, just hanging loosely in the air, floating in and out of my nostrils like.. like it shouldn't be there. Yes that's it, just like it shouldn't be there. It has that kind of renegade tang about its being, a simple rebellious air that makes you think "Fuck it, I'm badass." Its the kind of beautiful smell of everything being GOOD. Everything being all fine and dandy, like a hot summers day - two scantily clad women pouring you drinks and oiling themselves up in the pool at your feet.

However, I very much expect that a five year olds point of view on that devil may care smell would have been extremely different.

I've spent my whole life trying to figure out exactly what that zesty aroma was. Now, despite it being so far away, I think I've worked it out.

Its a strange combination, yet it follows me everywhere I go. It contains Daddy's special sugar powder, I know that much.. The scent always seems to heighten when I go closer to his factories or offices. There's a definete whiff of money in there... Not literally 'hard cash' as Daddy calls it, but in the figurative sense of the word. More of a hint of luxury, wealth and being bloody rich.

Oh, and of course - Daddy's 'employees' as he says, the sweaty ones, the fat ones with coffee in their beards and chocolate stains on their T-Shirts, the lean ones with greasy hair and rats faces, and the ones that always seem to have a wafty cider smell on their breath. I know its cider, because once Daddy let me taste some. Not much, but a little bit. I have a special sense, you see, I think it may be a superpower - If I taste something once I can recognize it anywhere.

Now, don't get me wrong, the smell wasn't the only thing there. There was a sort of pretty, sunbaked tinge to everything and everyone. Mummy sometimes tells me that here in Australia, things are 'Fucking hot' as she put it. But afterwards she always tells me I'm not allowed to use words like that, ever, and if I do then I will get a very hard smack and I won't be able to sit down for AT LEAST a week...

But anyway, I'm sure you all know what Australia looks like, because its a very big place and I'm sure my Daddy is one of the most important people in the world, so I expect you've all seen the area I'm standing in on the television box. If you haven't, and you're one of those 'ignorant shitbags' as Daddy says when somebody doesn't do what he wants, then I'll explain it to you in as much detail as I possibly can.

I'm standing just outside the house. It's a very big house, bigger than any of the other houses I've ever seen in my whole life. There are a couple of palm trees around it, but they don't look like the ones you see on beaches - Here in the middle of Canberra, you just don't get palm trees like that.

We have a ha-uge garden, full of swings and roundabouts and toys, and even a swimming pool! Thats how I know we're rich, because nobody else in the whole area has a swimming pool, and a lot of people look at us jealously, I think the word is, when we're swimming in it.

Apparently Canberra is the most 'industrial-ish' town in the whole wide place of Australia, so its always quite busy around. I don't know what 'industrial' means, but I guess its something to do with being in charge of a lot of things, as my Daddy ALWAYS says it, along with words like 'economically' and silly things like that. Once, my big brother and even bigger sister tried to explain those long words to me, but it didn't work, and they ended up sounding just like Mummy and Daddy.

"Now, Blake.."

They always seem to address me with a very serious tone, like I'm much too young to be trusted with anything. I probably am, but I don't see why that means I'm 'annoying' and 'immature..'

I can hear things too. The constant whining of next doors dog, the inscecent twittering of the little birdies in the skies and trees, and the occasional hum of the lawnmower when Daddy finds time to come out of his office. Oh, and of course the little voice in my head..

Hey, thats not weird.

I guess when you have a Dad too busy to acknowledge your existence, two older siblings MUCH too obsessed with sports and schoolwork and relationships and jewellery and friends, you make your own entertainment.. Find your own ways of doing things.

Fuck me, dude.

This bloody Nostalgia.



02/04/2012
Canberra, Australia
"The Here and Now and Everything"


"Bloody hell Tills, I'm gonna miss this place."

I have to sniff back a tear as I look out across the vast expanse of Canberra. Straining to remain intact, my Australian accent thickens twice over, before cracking on the final syllable. My elder sister, Matilda Vendetta, stands beside me, one hand resting comfortingly on my muscular shoulder. Her long brunette hair tickles my bare skin, but she says nothing.

Its been a long time since I've left Australia. Of course, when Dad was still a free man, and Mom and Joey were alive, we travelled all over the world. Europe, Asia, America, Africa. We did it all, saw it all, left our mark on it all.

That was back then, though, back when the name 'Vendetta' struck fearful respect into the hearts of those whose ears it fell upon. That was when Dad was free, Mom was alive, the house was tall, the swimming pool cool and refreshing. When me and Tillie weren't shackled by the ties of the orphanage, shunned by the family members that refused to take us in.

Back then, I could still smell that sickly sweet scent.

As Tillie and I climb into the car, I take one solitary, meaningful glance back. Now, a big, strong 'wrestler' like Blake Vendetta, broken down by such a small thing as leaving the place he grew up to a 'better future..' some would think that's the mark of a weakling. Objection.

I've never considered the fact that I may be weak. I guess being caught in the middle of a drug war, having half your family either killed or thrown in prison - before being chucked ruthlessly into an orphanage.. That kinda childhood disputes any claims that a kid is weak.

"So. Wrestling huh?"

Tillie smiles at me reassuredly, her soft Aussie twang imminent as she speaks. I wonder if theres anybody in FMW that speaks with a voice like that?

"You're gonna be okay, ya know." She continues, nodding as she revs up the engine, starting the long road to the airport. "You can fight. Thats all you really need, right?"

I nod slowly, rolling this thought over inside my head once or twice. Truthfully, and very unfortunately, I have no fuckin' clue what Pro-Wrestling actually includes. Sure, there's the whole punch, slam, strike, splash reportoire, but I've been told, by the few Aussie's that are sympathetic enough to slightly care for me, that it involves so much more than that.

Scandals, Rumours, Backstabbing, Beatdowns, A ladder of success, champions, jackasses, Special Stipulations, Backstage disputes, men after your head, factions of fools factions of fuck-ups, factions of hero types that think they're better than everybody else because they get the loudest cheers.

"I guess Tills. You promise you'll come and visit as much as you can, right?"

"Of course, Blake. I'm your sister, I'm kinda contracted to it."

I smile. Before it was just us, the terrible tandem, we never saw eye to eye. She was always the 'sensible, older beautiful one' that was always bouncy and smiling, always top of the class, always doing something that made her special. I was the annoying child that spoke to himself and the voices in his head, had scruffy hair and never washed behind his ears. That was all until the gang fights. Until the shootings.

She lost that special twinkle when she had nobody to tell her she was better.

In a way, she was almost forced to lower herself to my equal. To me, she became more of a sister than a bitch. I could tell that when it first became just us, she didn't like it. Didn't like the fact she had no massively rich support behind her - to praise her, cuddle her and push her to her limits. She was disgruntled and defeated because she had to treat her ridiculous little brother as an equal.

My heart wrenches once more as I notice the car pull up outside the airport. We sit there for a moment, neither of us acknowledging the other - and then I realize, and it strikes me with a bolt that makes my chest bulge; Tillie doesn't want me to go.

I'm not sure any of you quite know what it feels like to have a family member that never really showed any love for you show some. It's a beautiful feeling, no doubt, but not one I entirely needed, still on the verge of changing my mind, cancelling my flight and staying here, at home, in Canberra.

"Well.." she begins, "I suppose this is it, Blake."

I nod slowly, rolling my tongue, before warily getting out of the car, petrified that at any moment, both the voices in my head or the Nostalgic visions could strike me. I steady myself, going to the boot and pulling my two leather suitcases from it, before looking around at the bustling airport car park;

The sun is pulsing down, with an almost deliberate intention of burning those that stood in its way. The concrete below my feet is rough, worn and torn by so many feet and tires and so little maintenance work. That 'little maintenance work' is imminent everywhere you look around this part of the airport, shabby road signs and detached offices looking very much worse for wear.

Tillie follows me out, a few birds twittering overhead, the final song. She smiles at me, trying to hide the fact that she's going to miss me... But I know it's there; somewhere.

"Good luck, Blake."

"Thanks, Tills. I'm gonna be needing it, hey?"

She smiles, nodding quickly, her eyes dancing with a soft glow for just a moment. She rests her hand on my shoulder, before leaning in and clasping me in her arms.

At that moment, as I breath in the vanilla shampoo and cheap perfumes she always wears - feel the tips of her hair brush against my chin, that the memories come flooding back. They seep into my mind like an invading army, and I can do nothing to stop them. Miriads of days in the swimming pool, irritating my family, a plethora of schooldays - so dull and dreary, yet the best days of my life..

I can do nothing to stop those memories, and with them come the tears. Just falling soundlessly onto Tillie's cardigan clad shoulder. She holds me closer, saying nothing.

"Pull yourself together."

Oh shit, oh shit. Here we go.

"What's wrong, buddy? Haven't you been missing me?"

Then, just at a time when I needed it more than anything else, *Insert Sarcasm*, comes the voice. Strolling nonchalantly down my memory lane, whistling his jaunty, jovially annoying little tune and tipping his feather hat to me as he takes his usual seat at the forefront of my mind.

Now for those of you that are idiots, having a voice in your head doesn't tend to be good for you, and I am no exception to that ruling. My chest begins to pound, my head and throat whirling as the pit of my stomach begins to rumble. Tillie doesn't notice, mistaking my shifting bodyweight for heart wrenching sobs.

"Oh, build a fucking bridge, pussy. You're going to a better place..!"

My chest jolts suddenly, and a sharp searing pain raises through my veins, clawing at my innards and trying to collapse me from the inside. I can hear it hissing, the voice, whispering sweet nothings to me as it works its deadly magic. Through the midst of the burning pain, I feel Tillie's light grasp leave my body, and I realize at once that I need to go.

"Tillie.."

I can do nothing but croak out the solitary feeble word, but its enough. At once, Tillie realizes that it isn't just homesickness that is keeping me from leaving. An eternity of living with a kid can do that to somebody. An eternity of having to listen to Blake Vendetta's constant moaning and mutterings to nobody in particular has Tillie finely in tune to what is happening inside my head..

"Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

The Voice, an incessent shriek of laughter emenating from its 'lips,' continues to tigthen its steel clench as Tillie rests my leaden body against the car bonnet. I glimpse her delving into the boot for a bottle of water, through my slowly closing eyes.. I know I'm not dying, this has happened many times before.. But still, I am scared, and The Voice does nothing to comfort me..

My head drops backwards, cracking hard against the sun-parched concrete park. I hear Tillie scream, she never did know how to deal with situations like these.. and then i faint, falling into a deep unconciousness, as The Voice's laughter fades out.

Nothing.

Wow, Blake, way to make an impression.



07/02/2012

Brooklyn, New York

"Therapy."




It had been Tillie's idea.



I'd never enjoyed hospitals, and despite Doctor Barakat's best attempts to make her therapuetic wing of the building slightly more homely, it still reeked of that terrible... 'thing,' that hospitals always have but nobody can seem to put their finger upon.


The Doctor herself, Helena Barakat, was an attractive young lady, vivacious curves and a winning smile that was intended to put her patients further at ease in this unforgiving climate. I expected her to be a small-talker, but was pleasantly surprised as she jumped right in with, "so, you wrestle?"


Slightly startled by the approach, I was momentarily caught off-guard, hesitating before nodding. That bloody hospital tingle again. I was never normally a quiet or shy person, perhaps overstepping the mark occasionally when it came to self adoration and vanity, but words were caught in my throat. Perhaps my mind was still stuck at that day, all those years ago in my backyard, when they came for my Father, or even just days ago, when The Voice came back and left me more helpless than any opponent of mine could hope to do.


"I keep an eye on FMW, actually. Happy to have you, you looking forward to this week then?" Helena continued.


"Yeah. I know I've had a match before, but I'm going to treat this as my debut.. A lot of the guys in FMW will never have heard of me before, so that's technically what it is."


"Hm. You worried about anybody? You were teammates with Seth Rotunda for a while weren't you?"


"I was, yeah. For about a week, and that's all in the past. It strikes me as strange that this match is billed as 'Four SuperStars trying to make a name for themselves," when both John Andrews and Rotunda have been here about 8 months."


"They're solid though, and Rotunda has The Pack on his side."


"The Pack are nothing."


Helena Barakat's eyebrows shot upwards, her eyes distasteful at this open dissent against my former stable, but she pressed on nonetheless - "What about Kuruk?"


"The Indian Bloke? I guess I'm in no position to say that he shouldn't be a problem, because he's a rookie, but the kid has genuinely not made any impression on me. He has no charisma, and he's vaguely creepy."


Helena's lips started to creep into a smile, and I could tell she had a question that she was desperate to ask... "and what about The Braxton Twins?"


"What about them?" I was immediately on the defensive.


"Nothing.." Helena tailed off, her eyes sparkling. She got to her feet, snapping a briefcase closed before the floor became littered with files and papers. She turned to look at me.


"I think we'll leave it there for today, Blake. It's been a pleasure to meet you. I think we'll keep these sessions for match discussion, to help clear your head. The life of a wrestler is a stressful one indeed."










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Edible14
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Edible14


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FMW Superstar: Apostasy
Championship: Abandoned Championship

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeFri Feb 10, 2012 5:44 pm

Back to Hell

It wasn’t my best night. To this day, I’m still not exactly sure why I was in that match. The prize was a spot in the Gold Card Gauntlet… which I already had. I had brainstormed a brutal match, which nobody would walk away from without incident. I had come up with the Through Hell and Back match. It was a match that would give the crowd a great show, and give a big opportunity to several young guys from NEW. But I didn’t need to be a part of it.

What’s more confusing is why I want to go back to it.

By all rights, that match derailed my career once. I was working injured for a few months after that match, and my record reflects it. I went on to be a non-factor in that Gold Card Gauntlet, and I still wasn’t right by Death Row 3, where I was once again easily dispatched. Before that match, I knew that FMW officials were quite high on me. They had me pegged as a favorite for the Gold Card, since I had just defeated 9 other men the previous show to earn my spot.

It’s hard to explain such self-destructive desires. I guess… the easiest way to explain it is to explain the three things that I think matter most to me. The things I value in this occupation are opportunity, motivation and the enjoyment of the crowd.

Let me start with the last. The crowds that we draw, they pay good money to this place to be entertained. It is important to me that we give them a show that rewards them not just for their money, but for their attention. A match like Through Hell and Back is exactly the kind of match that they like to see. It’s constant action. You can see the heart and determination of all the competitors. It’s violent. It’s innovative. It’s the kind of thing that makes you think “I’m glad I paid money to see this.

Having said that, let’s remember that the people in the first Through Hell and Back match were mostly NEW competitors. They weren’t big names beforehand, but they all realized that this match had the potential to make a big name out of one of them. The winner could have gone on to win the Gold Card, and maybe even have won the Full Metal Championship. As it turns out, Koldan Izmaylov did none of these things. However, I’d like to think that the match ended up being a high point in his career, just as it was supposed to be. Furthermore, I was going to hold one of these matches for the Abandoned Championship, because I wanted to make sure that I gave a few more people the opportunity to take that belt from me.

What’s most important, though, is the heart. It takes a lot of mental toughness to climb a steel cage when you know everyone would be all too happy to send you crashing to the floor to your demise. It takes a lot to get back up after being blasted with foreign objects. It’s incredibly difficult to muster up the strength and resolve to stop someone from climbing a ladder, and just as much to climb one yourself. It’s important to me, because it’s the exact thing that I lacked when I first came to Full Metal Wrestling.

But I solved it. All that it took was some inspiration. Inspiration from a match I had witnessed years ago.

-----------------------------

In lieu of a regular dialogue-driven section, here is the first ever Through Hell and Back Match, never before broadcasted. This match was filmed and was supposed to be broadcast as part of LPW’s “Honor Roll” in 2007. However, the match and the special never aired. The match, at the time, was referred to as an Ultimate Hardcore match.

Quote :
"Pack the Pipe" by Pharcyde blares over the loudspeaker as Al and Zuma appear at the entrance ramp.

Announcer: The following contest is an ULTIMATE HARDCORE TAG TEAM MATCH! Introducing first, weighing in at a combined weight of 529 pounds, Al and ZUMA!

Snapple: This one is going to be INSANE!

The D: The cage hanging above the rafters currently is decorated with tables, chairs, sledgehammers, trash cans and other assorted weapons. The cage doesn't go on the apron like a regular cage match, but a few feet outside the ring like in a hell-in-the-cell match. The object of this match is simple. You have to escape the cage to the outside to get a ladder, make your way back in, and climb the ladder to glory.

Snapple: In most ladder matches, a title or a contract is up for grabs. But in this case, there are no belts or briefcases on the line. This is purely about glory, folks. And the prize they'll have to grab for the win was determined earlier today by those competing, that black package up in the rafters is the prize. Nobody knows what's inside except the competitors. When we asked Trey Spruance, he simply said "hay", as in the stuff that horses eat. Given the less-than-savory background of Trey and Zuma, one could make a guess as to what's up there.

The D: But they aren't telling. But this match is more than just about glory, it's about survival. Nobody is going to come out of this match the same.

"Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins hits, to a wave of cheers. Trey Spruance and Edible appear at the entrance ramp to a huge ovation.

Announcer: And their opponents, weighing in at a combined 252 pounds, they are members of THE MISFITS, EDIBLE AND TREY SPRUANCE!

Snapple: And here come the men who look to make the task of survival a whole lot more difficult for Zuma and Al. The Misfits are here!

The D: I thought they came out to Sad But True, the Metallica song?

Snapple: They do, and they don't. They seem to alternate between the two. It's weird, really.

The D: The cage is lowering, as is my stomach.

Snapple: It feels a little ominous, like these four men are descending into the depths of hell as we speak.

The D: It's down, and there's the bell!

Snapple: Trey and Edible strike first, Trey with a clothesline on Al, Edible with a running knee lift on Zuma. STEREO SPINEBUSTERS BY THE MISFITS!

The D: Woah, Zuma and Al were paying a bit too much attention to the weapons on the cage walls.

Snapple: Both Misfits grab their opponents, they might be going for stereo Boston Crabs. NO! THEY SLINGSHOT THEIR OPPONENTS INTO EACH OTHER!

The D: Al got the worst of that exchange. He's nearly 70 pounds lighter than his brother. Al might be out cold.

Snapple: Edible NAILS THE AMERICAN SUPLEX ON ZUMA!

The D: And Trey heads to the outside, and he's going for a ladder!

Snapple: But first he's picking off the weapons. He just tossed a cane into the ring! And now he's setting up a table on the outside! Trey's climbing out of the cage!

The D: And Edible's got that cane ready.

Snapple: Zuma is groggily trying to get to his feet. S-T-O WITH THE CANE AT ZUMA'S THROAT!

The D: Oh, dear god!

While Zuma clutches his throat, Edible raises his hands in triumph. Al has made his way up and is in a corner, waiting for Edible to turn around. He attempts his version of a spear

Snapple: EDIBLE JUST SIDE-STEPPED THE HIT-STICK!

The D: Trey Spruance is climbing down the other side of the cage.

Snapple: Edible pulls Al out of the corner, and nails a dragon suplex! He rolls through, and hits another! And one more for good measure, TRIPLE DRAGON SUPLEX!

The D: SLEDGEHAMMER SHOT FROM NOWHERE BY ZUMA!

Snapple: The numbers finally catch up with Edible. Al's down on the canvas again, and Zuma doesn't look to hot either.

The D: Zuma rolled out of the ring after that STO, and picked up a sledge. Edible took to damn long with the triple dragon suplexes.

Snapple: Zuma pulls Edible to the outside now. He's looking to put Edible away right here.

The D: He's got an eye towards those steel steps.

Snapple: Zuma's taking apart the steps, this doesn't look good. Edible is fighting to find his feet, but Zuma just picked up a chair and LEVELS him with it.

The D: And now he's placed the chair on top of the steel steps.

Snapple: Zuma's looking for a piledriver… WHAT THE HELL?

A ladder comes flying in from above, pelting Zuma in the back of the head.

Snapple: We've got to see that on replay!

The replay shows Trey throwing the ladder like a javelin to the top of the cage. The ladder skims off the top on the cage, changing the direction its going. The ladder then falls sideways onto Zuma.

Snapple: Edible now climbs to the top rope, with Zuma on his back. Backdrop to the outside! Edible's looking for the Double Play! But Al is back on the offensive, with a series of blows right at Edible. Al's looking for a superplex, but Edible blocks. Edible stands up, JAWBREAKER ON THE TOP ROPE! Al falls down, and Edible is setting back up.

The D: Al is up, DON'T TURN AROUND!

Snapple: CEREAL CRUNCH CONNECTS!

The D: Snapple, look high up!

Snapple: Trey is calling for Edible to put Zuma on the table. Trey's looking for something huge from the top of the cage!

The D: Oh shit, these Misfits are really cooking.

Snapple: Edible rolls Zuma onto the table, Trey picked a chair off of the cage! LOOK OUT BELOW!

Trey places the chair by his feet and jumps. He looks to do a mushroom stomp with the chair to Zuma, but Zuma rolls off the table just in time to avoid it. Trey sees this and tries to bail out but ends up going through the table sideways.

Snapple: DEAR LORD! TREY MIGHT'VE TAKEN HIMSELF OUT OF THE MATCHUP!

The D: I think Zuma let Edible roll him on the table. He might've been playing possum to get Trey to crash and burn.

Snapple: Edible is pissed off at Zuma, and lands a series of strikes, directed right at Zuma's skull. Knees, punches, forearms and kicks land straight on the dome of Zuma.

The D: Edible has murder on his mind.

Snapple: Edible picks up Zuma, snake eyes into the cage. Oh no, Edible drops Zuma down on his back, this might be… ALABAMA SLAM ONTO THE STEEL STEPS!

The D: Edible looks to complete the triple play.

Snapple: DEAR GOD!

Zuma's head dangles just off the steel steps, prone. Edible jumps over Zuma and delivers a leg drop, causing Zuma to land head-first on the outside. Zuma's body lies feet-up against the steel steps and the side of the ring.

Snapple: And I think Edible just took Zuma out of the matchup as well.

The D: Trey might've snapped his spine, Zuma might've broken his neck or cracked his skull open. It may be that nobody survives this match.

Snapple: HURRICANRANA BY AL, THROWING EDIBLE INTO THE CAGE!

The D: And now Al looks to avenge his brother.

Al takes the ladder and wedges it in between the ringpost and the cage.

The D: And the carnage hasn't ended yet!

Snapple: Al rolls Edible into the ring, I don't know what the hell he's thinking. Al nails a DDT onto a sledgehammer, Edible may be out cold.

The D: But he's setting up for something bigger than that.

Snapple: Al has placed Edible up on the top rope, back to the outside.

The D: I think I know what he's going for.

Al positions himself on the second rope and places Edible in between his legs. Al grabs Edible, looking for a huge powerbomb, but Edible counters into a backdrop, sending Al onto the ladder.

Snapple: WHAT A COUNTER!

The D: And now Edible's looking for a Double Play once again.

Edible does a moonsault, but Al rolls off the ladder and onto the floor. Edible goes crashing onto the ladder, and a large CRACK can be heard.

Snapple: AL ROLLED OUT OF THE WAY! I THINK EDIBLE MAY HAVE BROKEN THE LADDER!

The D: Metal doesn't break, it dents.

Snapple: But that ladder doesn't look right, it's bent into a crescent.

The D: Let's hope it still works.

Snapple: Al has the ladder in the ring, he's trying to set it up. But it won't even open. Edible might've dented the lever that opens the ladder.

The D: Edible didn't put away Al, but he made the ladder useless. Even in failing, he does something useful. Fucking lucky-ass prick.

Snapple: I think Al has another use for that ladder in mind…

The D: As a battering ram?

Snapple: Al slides out, and now drags the ladder with him. He's got the legs of the ladder wedged into the holes in the cage. This won't end well.

The D: And the top of the ladder is back on the apron, and Al rolls back into the ring. Al off the ropes… BASEBALL SLIDE! AND THE SIDE OF THE CAGE HAS COME UNHINGED!

The cage wall dangles precariously, looming over the entrance ramp, but still loosely connected to the other walls of the cage.

The D: And Al looks to finish the job!

Al springboards onto the top rope, and propels himself towards the wall. He turns his back to the wall in mid-air, and crashes into the cage, bringing the wall of the cage down with him.

The D: WHAT THE HELL!?!

Snapple: Al just broke the damn cage!

The D: Al stumbles to the outside, he's got a new ladder, he's ready for victory!

Snapple: Trey Spruance is up, and he delivers a few blows to Al. Trey's fighting with everything he's got! Low blow by Al!

The D: This is hardcore. You do everything you can to survive.

Trey leans against the side post of the cage in pain, as Al picks up the ladder. Al swings the ladder at Trey's head, sandwiching him between cage and ladder.

Snapple: OH DEAR GOD!

The D: I thought it was amazing that he got up the first time. He's not getting up now.

Snapple: Al crosses over the wreckage he's created already. He slides the ladder inside, EDIBLE BLINDSIDES HIM WITH A FRYING PAN!

The D: Now Edible's climbing in and setting up the ladder. Zuma's found his way in the ring as well. Both men are climbing! This could be it!

Snapple: Punches exchanged by both men. Edible bounces Zuma's head off the ladder. BACKDROP BY EDIBLE FROM THE LADDER TO THE CANVAS!

The D: Al's back up, he's trying to shake Edible off!

Edible decides to do a moonsault off the top of the ladder as Al brings it down. Edible completes the Double play on Zuma. But as he recoils, Zuma locks in the Blunt Wrap.

The D: HE COMPLETED IT, BUT ZUMA STILL HAS THE BLUNT WRAP LOCKED IN!

Snapple: Edible can't move. Al's picking the ladder back up, Edible is squirming, trying to get out of the hold. He's on the ropes, but there's no rope breaks in this match.

The D: Al's got it set up, he's climbing for glory!

Snapple: Zuma's holding on for dear life. Trey is still motionless outside. Edible rolls towards the ladder, but he can't knock it down. AL'S GOT THE PRIZE! AL AND ZUMA WIN!

Announcer: HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS, AL AND ZUMA!

The D: Zuma finally lets go, and Edible can't believe it.

Snapple: What's left of the cage lifts back up towards the rafters. Edible is checking on Trey Spruance. Al and Zuma are lifting up their mystery prize, both of them have survived.

The D: Good god, what a match.

Snapple: Medical personnel come to the ring to help Trey. Stagehands are coming out to clean this mess up. The good news for the Misfits is that Trey looks conscious and alert. He looks like he's going to be alright. After this display of violence, I can only hope that this isn't the last Ultimate Hardcore match we see.

The D: I hate to say it, but I agree. I can't wait to see one of these on Insanity.

Snapple: I hope to see one for Inferno.

The cameras zoom in on Zuma and Al, who both put up their thumbs and index fingers to their mouth, doing the universal "smoke weed" signal.

The D: How classy.

Snapple: We've got to clean this up. We'll be back.

-----------------------------

I saw the fire in his eyes… I saw him flail wildly about as he tried to knock down that ladder. I saw the unbridled passion of a man… who was literally fighting for nothing.

That’s what this match was to me. It was a measuring stick of the passion of the men involved. That’s something that Edible Matthewson always had… the fire. The man came from actual homelessness in order to become a professional wrestler, and he wrestled with the enthusiasm of someone who always thought that everything could be lost at a moment’s notice.

That is everything in this business. When I first started here in 2009… has it really been that long? In any case, when I started here… I was unsure of exactly how committed I would be. I thought that I would up and quit just like both Edible M and Edible S. I thought that it would be too hard, and that perhaps I’d end up with an embarrassingly bad win-loss record. I thought nobody would take any liking to me. But it’s refreshing to see that I was wrong in every way.

Perhaps it’s this match. Perhaps it’s me having just lost my Abandoned Title. For whatever reason, I’m feeling particularly nostalgic today. So… let’s take a look at my first ever FMW appearance.

-----------------------------

Quote :
A man stands in front of a Kenyan flag

Man: I am N***er

What power do words have but the power we grant them? Unless you believe that phrases produce some sort of magical force that can change the world, you would recognize that the power they have is in our ability to let them affect us. Given my lack of faith in any sort of deity or eternal power, perhaps you have already deducted that I myself subscribe to the latter theory.

A woman stands in front of an American flag

Woman: I am C**t

Some words are allowed to affect us in stronger ways than others. Words that have been tied up in historical hate, hate which is now mostly stale and unfounded. Most ethnic slurs were created out of legitimate animosity towards an entire group of people. Now, they are used for deliberate effect, simply to provoke anger and create controversy. While some of the hate may still exist, it is mostly handed down, and not born of timely conflict. There are no more white men owning black men, oppressing them with harsh strands of leather. And yet, the term “cracker” endures. Hatred these days is inherited, and survives by virtue of not being challenged by the ignorant children of bigots.

A man stands in front of an Italian flag

Man: I am Wop

And yet, people continue to give these words power. Long after American Protestants stopped feeling threatened by immigrant Irish Catholics, the word Wigger persisted, even morphing into a pejorative for white kids who embraced “black” culture. And there is a key point to be made. The meanings these words carry are not set in stone. They are flexible, moldable, and breakable. A phrase that was once used as a rallying cry to murder Jewish people can now be used in a celebratory manner safely and without question. Hip, hip, hooray for that!

A woman stands in front of a flag bearing the Star of David

Woman: I am Kyke

So why would I embrace the name Apostasy? It’s a term that was denounced as evil by the Christian church. Back in the day, calling somebody an Apostate was a grave insult. It was a label that no atheist would willingly wear, due to its pejorative nature. Given all that to think on, I gave myself the name Apostasy anyway. It’s because I embrace the term, and make it my own. I redefine the term for my own uses, and add to its definition. I control it, and make it my name.

A man stands in front of a Mexican flag

Man: I am Wetback

I do not use any such pejorative terms for Christians. I do not use these terms for anyone. Most of them are not for me to own and change. Despite my renunciation of faith, I do not scorn or cast a weary eye to the faithful. A part of me envies them. While I do enjoy indulging in the sins I felt only were unreasonably withheld from me by the church, I can’t help but think that I would surely trade lust, crudeness and blasphemy for the joy of belief. However, one cannot be willed to believe. What I have seen and what I have known is in direct conflict with piousness. I cannot believe when I cannot reason to believe. I am, above all, a logical person. It has its drawbacks.

A woman stands in front of a German flag

Woman: I am Kraut

As much as I may envy the followers, I am content with my life as it is. Life for me has been a series of radical changes, followed by adjustment. I have been trained as a wrestler, and so I choose it as a career path. It may be the path of least resistance, but it is also the most logical choice for me. And perhaps I will be enlightened to some deeper truth with it. I assume that I will find out eventually. I assume very little about life at this point, because life has continuously thrown a wrench into the ideas I’ve developed. And perhaps it is better to admit ignorance to the wonders of life and move on. Perhaps it gives me focus. And perhaps that is my strength.

A man stands in front of a British flag

Man: I am Limey

Do not mistake my laid back and accepting nature as a sign of indifference. Do not make the unwise conclusion that I lack passion. I may not have convictions as you know them, but I do possess a mantra. Constant self-improvement is that mantra. I seek to always improve, until some day I am recognized as a champion. And perhaps as more.

A woman stands in front of a Saudi Arabian flag

Woman: I am Towelhead

My mentor fought and preached in defiance of apathy. And I followed him in that belief. Now I ask, “What do I fight for?” Why do I challenge FMW? What point do I have to make? What cause do I represent?

A man stands in front of a Chinese flag

Man: I am Slope

I fight for myself. Long after I have defeated Savant, Slegnadamnus and Hatchet Ryda, after I have earned my way into a title match, and after I beat half to death the men who dare stand in my way of golden fulfillment, I will scream one thing in victory. I will look back upon the freshly limp body of a man who has succumbed to the Apathetic Clutch. I will remember the many others who have fallen victim to the same fate before him. I will take in what I have just accomplished and I will yell…

I… AM… APOSTASY!

-----------------------------

And that is who I am. I’m not quite so boastful these days… I’ve suffered through enough losses to have been slightly humbled… but I am roughly the same man I was when I walked into this company all those years ago, at the age of 19. And as I get closer to my 3 year anniversary and my 22nd birthday, I think it’s appropriate to remember where this all started with me.

I was just a kid who hated his adoptive father. I found wrestling at the age of 16, and started training with the man called Edible Matthewson. After he retired, I went off and trained with a man who some had accused of copying his name, moves and more in other federations… Edward Abel Smith… better known as Edible Smith. After a few years, I was given an FMW contract… days after my 19th birthday.

In just my second match, I qualified for the Gold Card Gauntlet against 9 other men. In my third… I injured myself in the match now known as Through Hell and Back. After failing to win the television title, feuds with Koldan Izmaylov, Seth Omega and Nick Bryson, I finally captured the Abandoned Championship at Mt. Vesuvius. I held that title longer than anyone, with 5 successful title defenses punctuating a 10 match winning streak. That title and that streak were ended by the man…fish…thing… formerly known as Son of Shark Boy.

The future… just as the prize tonight… is unknown to me. I can only hope that my pride, my passion and my commitment can continue to bring me good fortune as it has so far. But even if were to end today… I would be happy with what I’ve done. I stand before you as a man who looks back not because he has gotten complacent, but because he is forced to recognize just how lucky he truly is. I have been given so much here, and I cannot express a deep enough gratitude with simple words. Perhaps this match could possibly be a token of that appreciation, if you like hardcore wrestling as much as I do.

To say it simply… thank you.
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Storm183




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Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 12:39 pm

Fade in, market square. STORMMASTER apppears to be motionless. STORMMASTER's managers Reggie and Peyton are looking a bit suspicious, causing most of the people passing by to look on confused. You can hear STORMMASTER speak but only through his thoughts.

"STORMMASTER is standing in the middle of the street motionless."
"STORMMASTER seems to be standing next to two suspicious characters known as Reggie and Peyton."
"STORMMASTER cannot seem to understand why these two dumbfucks are even next to STORMMASTER?"


Reggie: Niggers, we on this shit?

Peyton: What in the flying fuck are you on about Reggie?

Reggie: You know? We go to Wal-Mart and raid the candy shelves. This dude next to us smashes through the door looking all macho and we go hiding in the back and scare the living shit out of those niggers.

Peyton: If that is even possible.

"STORMMASTER seems to notice two funny looking men looking at me.
STORMMASTER begins to boot itself up."


Reggie: Nigger, what is this goofball doing?

Peyton: Booting itself up.

Tumbleweed.

Reggie: Nigger, I see tumbleweed.

Peyton: Only in this promo dumbass.

"STORMMASTER wants to smash through Wal-Mart."
"STORMMASTER seems to be a bit distracted."


Reggie: What in the blue fuck is this tincan doing?

As if my coincidence, two looking whores make a pass towards STORMMASTER who appears to be not interested in them one single bit.

Reggie: You serious bro?

Peyton: I SWEAR YOU AND YOUR GIMMICK INFRINGMENT!!!

Reggie: What? STORMMASTER looks like Mark Henry.

Peyton: Who the fuck is he?

Peyton places his hands on his face and cringes towards Reggie. STORMMASTER suddenly makes a bolt towards the window of Wal-Mart.

Reggie: Oh baby, we on now.

Peyton: Shut the fuck up and follow me bitch.

Chaos begins. Panic is spreading throughout the entire Wal-Mart store and STORMMASTER is heading towards the Pizza counter. Reggie and Peyton are running around like a bunch of pussies. The Linguist and Sharpedo King (with his Abandoned Championship belt slugged over his shoulder) appear and watch on, looking confused.

Sharpedo King: Shar...pedo?

The Linguist looks at Sharpedo King and shrugs his shoulders. Reggie and Peyton run towards both of them and look at Sharpedo King, confused.

The Linguist: Don't look at me like that?

Suddenly...

STORMMASTER: STORMMASTER WOULD LIKE A PIZZA!!!

...the carnage stops as everyone including Reggie, Peyton, Linguist and Sharpedo King look at STORMMASTER in disbelief. We hear sirens briefly in the distance. The Pizza counter assistant shakes with fear as STORMMASTER appears to be standing there with a purpose.

STORMMASTER: STORMMASTER WOULD LIKE A PIZZA WITH SUGAR AND SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE!!!

Shocked, Reggie turns to Peyton and asks...

Reggie: Nigger, did he just ask for a Sugar and Spice pizza?

Peyton: What are you deaf?

Reggie: What am I? Deaf and black?

The Linguist: ...and clearly thick.

Sharpedo King nods his head in agreement. Meanwhile, the nervous Pizza counter assistnat makes the Pizza as per the requirements from STORMMASTER. He then hands it over to STORMMASTER who then eats it whole...well he tries to. Everyone looks on with awe and amazement.

Reggie: That nigger just ate a Pizza whole.

Suddenly...

Sharpedo King: SSSHHHAAAARRRPPPPEEEEDDDOOOOOO!!!!!!

Sharpedo King superkicks Reggie making him completely useless to do anything.

Peyton: THANK YOU!!!

Sharpedo King: Sharpedo!

Peyton: OK he's freaking me out now.

The Linguist: He's a Pokemon.

Peyton: ORLY?

The Linguist: YA...RLY!!!

With the pizza fully swallowed, STORMMASTER then makes his escape, causing destruction with every single step that he makes. The police arrive to stop STORMMASTER but is swung away by STORMMASTER'S massive arms. Peyton looks at both The Linguist and Sharpedo King then signals both of them to make an escape.

The Linguist: I think that's a perfect idea, don't you think so Sharpedo King?

Sharpedo King nods.

Sharpedo King: Sharpedo.

All three make their exits swiftly while at the same time hiding behind STORMMASTER and uses him as a shield, clearing the path by swinging his arms and throwing police officers all over the store. In the distance, the two young whores from earlier are looking on with interest sucking their lollipops. We fade out leaving destruction and the two young girls sucking their lollipops.


Last edited by Storm183 on Sun Feb 12, 2012 4:29 pm; edited 2 times in total
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Bobino




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FMW Superstar: Butters
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 3:17 pm

What is all the hubbub about?

Nothing to see here folks.

Move along.

Everything is going according to plan, nothing out of ordinary… you know… for FMW’s Number –ONE- Draft Pick…

Also now know was FMW’s Number –ONE- Seed in the Ultra-Violent Championship tournament.

That’s all.

I deserve all this, I’ve always said I deserve everything I get… it’s just only now that I’m getting opportunities rather than stigmas.

Listen to the words… there is no typo, no accident.

FMW’s –NEXT- Ultra-Violent Champion

Everybody Knows…

It’s Butters!

~*~

“This is huge.” Krisko’s voice carried weight. The normally irrational mind of the siblings spoke words so normal, even he understood.

“It’s big, yeah, but I can’t make a big deal of this.” Butters was trying to calm his excitable brother, who had just read the tournament announcement.

“Bob, look! You’re going to be champion! You’re going to rule over FMW. You’re going to keep your promise!” Krisko was nearly jumping up and down with each word.

“Kris, listen. I’m not going to be the Full Metal Champion. This is not going to be easy. I have to fight two matches in a row, each of which is under Ultra-Violent rules… which isn’t really my flavor. Barbed wire, chairs, bats, fire… it’s bad.” It’s obvious that Butters is worried about the level of violence involved in his opportunity.

“Fire? Barbed Wire?! How is that bad? I’ll do it for you… can I do it for you? Ooo… I wanna hit someone with a flaming barbed wire chair!! Pah-lease!!!” Krisko is now actually unable to control himself and is literally bouncing and grabbing Butters’ arm at the thought of inflicting pain.

“Get off of me!” Butters yanks his arm away. “You’re sick. These are people. Paul brooks hasn’t done anything to me. I have to take a man I’ve never been crossed by, and beat him to a pulp… until he is no longer and obstacle. I can’t do things like that to someone who has even searched me out to wish me luck.”

Krisko’s mouth curls around into an eerie looking grin. His head tilts a bit as he inches a bit closer, looking over to his brother. “These are not people… that’s why you have problem. When you look across the ring… don’t look at the person… look at the animal. They are just animals… that are eyeing you for their next meal.”

“Animals? You want me to dehumanize my opponent?” Butters’ head shook a bit side-to-side, already trying to deny his brother’s logic.

“We are all animals… each of us, deep inside somewhere… we’re animals. You need to take any weapon any advantage you can… and stop them before they stop you….” Krisko let his words trail off intentionally… well as intentionally as formerly committed psychopath can intend.

“Animals… we’re animals… Yeah, that makes sense. He’s going to do these things to me… Why not cut him off at the pass?” Butters started to smile, apparently some of the pressure being lifted.

“There we go… you need to survive. The other animals… they don’t want you to survive. They want to rule this turf… and you are encroaching on their claim. In fact, I believe I used to listen to someone tell the world about survival… and how the strong survive…” Krisko inched a bit closer to his brother each moment, trying to drive the point home.

“…and the weak…. they die. In order to become champion, I need to survive. Otherwise I die... “ Butters was looking nowhere, his eyes just staring forward.

Krisko quickly grabbed his brother and put a firm hand on his shoulder. “There we go! Now you’re ready for violence. Ha. Now you’re ready for the tables and the pain, and the carnage. Now you’re ready… for Ultra-Violence… “

Butters’ smile was very strained. Not because he was trying to fake for his brother… but more because he was trying to fight the thoughts that kept coming into his mind. He didn’t like enjoying the thought of inflicting pain. He just sat, smiling… much to his own dismay.

“Ready? We’ll see… Only way to tell is to go out there and stop the other animals from taking me down… I’ll do what it takes… no matter how gruesome.” Butters nods slowly.

“Are you going to wuss out on me? Are you going to stop and let the animals win?” Krisko’s smile never fading, his anger is more portrayed in his eyes, as shielded by the red prescription glass as they are.

“Let’s just say that things will get done… and that most people… besides you at least… They don’t want to be me…” Butters eyes keep staring off into the distance, possibly trying to look past the acts he’s going to perform to survive.

~*~
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PBrooks

PBrooks


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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 5:24 pm

Fade in.

Narrator: The scene is set in the FMW locker room where Brooks is seen wrapping his hands getting ready for tonight when an FMW booker walks in.

FMW Booker: Brooks?

Brooks: Yea. What's up? Who am I facing tonight?

FMW Booker: Nothing man just came to give you your match and to suggest you cut an in-ring promo for it seeing as your guaranteed opponent and other possible opponents can't be found.

Brooks: Other possible opponents? Am I in a fatal four way match?

FMW Booker: Not exactly. You will be facing Bobino tonight in a tournament for the Anarchy Ultraviolent Championship.

Brooks: Who are the other possible opponents?

FMW Booker: Ryder Strong and Callum Pullum.

Brooks: Thanks.

Narrator: The Booker leaves the locker room leaving Brooks pondering on how he got himself into the situation he currently faces himself in.

Fade out.

******
We originally had a scene here but received a letter from the government asking us to take it down Sad
Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread SOPA

Fade in.

Brooks: Here we go.

Narrator: Brooks leaves his locker room and makes his way through the backstage area of the arena and stops just before the curtain leading to the entrance ramp to grab a bottle of water.

Brooks: This is it.

Narrator: Brooks cracks his neck and nods to the tech crew to play his theme music.

The Game by Motorhead blares through the speakers as Brooks makes his way onto the arena.

Narrator: Brooks takes a sip of his water bottle and walks his way down to the ring. He walks up the stairs, stands on the apron and sprays the water upward before going through the ropes and into the ring. He poses for the crowd before walking over to the tech guy to grab a mic.

Brooks: Check. Check. Ok its working. Hello Anarchy fans.

Narrator: Crowd pops.

Brooks: So yea not sure if you guys heard but there’s going to be a tournament tonight. Four men enter. One man leaves. The winner of the tournament will be crowned the new and first Anarchy Ultraviolent champion. Who are the four men in this tournament you ask?

Narrator: Brooks points to the Titantron.

Brooks: YNG’s Ryder Strong.

Narrator: Crowd pops at the sight of Ryder Strong on the Titantron.

Brooks: Bobino.

Narrator: Crowd pops at the sight of Bobino on the Titantron.

Brooks: A man who I sort have a bit of an issue with. Callum Pullin.

Narrator: Crowd pops at the sight of Callum on the Titantron.

Brooks: Oh and this guy. *points at self*

Narrator: Crowd pops.

Brooks: Anyway, I could come out here and give some cookie cutter speech on how I’m going to win this match and talk a bit bout my opponents but I’m gonna break the fourth wall and just tell you guys what I know.

Narrator: Brooks walks over to the corner and sits on the top rope.

Brooks: Bobino. Callum. Ryder. We all know each other from another place but I’ve only gotten to be in the same match with one of you. Bobino, you’re a veteran. You’ve won some great matches and you have yourself a guaranteed title shot you can cash in whenever you want. Why you haven’t yet? I have no clue. Callum, you debuted here at the same time as me but in the other place, you are a champion. Hope we get to feud here. As for you Ryder…don’t really know what or how to start this. You’re probably one of the top e-fedders. You’ve done it all: multiple time champion, former head booker and president of the other place. That’s all good and all but here you guys are standing in my way to the top.

Narrator: Brooks jumps down, finishes his water and looks at the entrance ramp.

Brooks: Bobino. Callum Pullin. Ryder Strong. Time to play the game.

Fade out.


Last edited by PBrooks on Mon Feb 13, 2012 12:32 am; edited 1 time in total
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Jeff
FMW Corruption Ultraviolent Champion
FMW Corruption Ultraviolent Champion
Jeff


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FMW Superstar: "Truly Talented" Jeff Whitt
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 5:33 pm

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

Faded yellow wallpaper, adorned with various Gold Standard Wresting posters and pictures, cover the walls of the rather grimy and small GSW fitness center found in the Gold Standard Headquarters. A couple of dumbbells and an outdated treadmill occupy the near side of the room; the middle had a bit more equipment, most of which looks rather beat up. The far end of the room contains a little space and a large punching bag, which has clearly seen better days. It is around this punching bag that we find Crusoe, Leviticus, and Jeff Whitt. Crusoe looks on approvingly at his two ‘students’ as they prep for their upcoming matches. Levi is busy doing pushups, while Jeff is hammering away on the bag with various elbow and palm strikes. Each brutal blow sends a loud THUD across the room.

Crusoe: Ya know, I don’ think punchin’ bags were made ta take blows like that…

Jeff ignores him for the time being, a slick smile plastered on his face as he attacks the bag. Crusoe shakes his head, but chuckles as he does so. The Truly Talented One finally seems to be really pushing himself, and if he busts the bag open with some vicious shots, it’ll probably signify that he means business. The thought is reassuring, especially with how well things have picked up for GSW in Full Metal Wrestling recently.

The head honcho Williams has been very proud (and relieved) by the work the Invasion Squad has been doing since Death Row. Jonathan King currently holds the Television title, Dunn has picked up a win, Levi continues to be booked with the best FMW has to offer, and now Jeff is the number one contender to the Celt’s Ultraviolent Championship. Simply put, GSW is on a roll, and their stock has never been higher. The boss has lightened up on his normally sour mood, and has gone back to respecting and even liking the Crew. Of course, he expects them to continue their winning ways. But for now, everyone in GSW can breathe easier in their less-venomous environment.


*THUD*

Crusoe: Gotta keep our eyes on tha prize, gentlemen! We’re doin’ well, jus hafta continue it.

Leviticus pauses his pushups for a moment to flash a smile at Crusoe before continuing his work. Meanwhile, Jeff continues to strike at the bag. However, he also seems to be whispering to himself.

Whitt (Softly): Prize…prize…

*THUD*

*THUD*

Whitt (Louder): Actually, heh, I don’t think we all have our eyes on the prize as it is.

Crusoe turns sharply towards Jeff, smile morphing into a confused frown. Leviticus, meanwhile, has turned over on his back to do situps, though he looks a tad confused as well.

Leviticus: Hmm…

Crusoe: An’ what’s that s’posed ta mean? We’re all aimin’ to succeed in FMW, ain’t that the prize?

*THUD*

Whitt: That’s what the prize is? Hmm. I could have sworn the prize was raising GSW up.

Crusoe: Won’ one result in tha other, though?

Whitt: That’s not quite the point, though, my man. You see…

Jeff turns from the bag and looks at his two comrades. Both are now to their feet – Levi has stood up from his exercising – and are looking at Jeff with a mixture of expectance and confusion. Whitt puts on a sly smirk.

Whitt: The point is that we, as a group, are not actually all focused on achieving the same goal. That much should be obvious to the two of you, at least.

Crusoe: What do ya mean by that?

Whitt: Come on, now, you can’t be that thick, can ya? King’s almost solely focused on his stock and his ego, Dunn’s concerned with “saving” FMW and its wrestlers through us, and Jensen’s only part of the team because he doesn’t like his former employer. I mean, heh, let’s face it: the only two of us that actually care about GSW’s position are Levi and I.

Crusoe and Levi remain silent, taking in the thoughts while having their own. Jeff shakes his head a bit before turning back to the bag, delivering more elbow shots to it.

*THUD*

*THUD*

*THUD*

Leviticus: Well, then, what do you suggest we do about that? Can’t really say I disagree, and something does have to be done about that, but what? Keeping it between the three of us ain’t gonna change anything.

Whitt: What we have to do first *THUD* is make sure the three of us are on the same page. We know what *THUD* we’re here for and what we should *THUD* be accomplishing. But it’s how we do so, how we go about accomplishing the goals that we need to be on the same page about.

Crusoe: How?

Whitt: Yes, how.

Leviticus: That’s the easy part, though. We just outperform and outwrestle the FMW competition. That’s been clear from the start.

Jeff sighs a bit, slightly frustrated.

Whitt: Yes, but how fucking well has that worked, Levi? *THUD* Our entire tenure here has been based on *THUD* the idea that we’re better wrestlers, but *THUD* only you have really backed that up. So we *THUD* need to change things up a bit.

Leviticus: And how, exactly, are we changing it up?

Whitt: Easily. To bring GSW up…

Jeff takes half a step back, then snarls before spinning around and hitting a Rolling Elbow on the punching back. With the toll the bag has taken today and in the past, the poor, beat-up back legitimately tears in half, bottom half falling feebly to the floor. Levi jumps a bit while Crusoe’s eyes widen considerably.

Whitt: …we must destroy FMW through sheer force and violence.

Crusoe: Bloody ‘ell, Jeff, you know we’ve never been that kin’ o place!

Whitt: But it’s not really about the “place”, now is it? The Invasion Squad is separate from GSW a little bit. We’re in FMW, doing things our own way in the name of the Gold Standard. We’re not “in” GSW, so we’re not stuck to just what GSW does or can do, so to speak.

Leviticus: So we’re supposed to now be insanely violent in order to make GSW look good? Going against what GSW actually stands for is supposed to be how we do it? I don’t know if that even makes sense, Jeff.

Whitt: Maybe not, maybe not! But it will get us looked at as a real threat. We have a title within our group now, and need to strike while the iron is hot. What we need is to bring down everyone else around us until we are the last standing and surviving group. What we need to do is actively attempt to injury, maim, maul, and destroy our foes.

Crusoe: Is that why you’ve been goin’ after the Ultraviolent Title, then?

Jeff chuckles and nods his head.

Whitt: Yes, yes indeed. The most brutal of the titles, the one that opens up every match to the most heinous of rules to allow me to do anything and everything I desire to an opponent? How swell! Why not? Obtaining it will make the “how” part of this very, very simple. But before that, I’ll give the world a little preview in this Hell and Back match.

Crusoe and Leviticus share a quick look, both with unease written on their face, before looking back to Jeff. The Truly Talented One, they both think, has gone off the deep end. Those earlier failures have clearly gotten to him.

Whitt: Yes, a nice little taste for everyone. And with an all-star cast to beat up on, as well. The current Abandoned champ, Sharpedo King, an all-around doofus with an idiotic costume who so happens to be dangerous. The former Abandoned Champion Apostasy, who sees himself as the next FMC, making him a an important piece and target. And, of course, my personal favorite, the Celt, the UV title-holder and self-proclaimed “Law” of FMW. And Dunn and I, the potential spoilers.

He gives a soft, almost evil chuckle to himself, before continuing.

Whitt: All of us trapped in a cage, fighting for a ladder to go grab a briefcase with an unannounced prize. It almost writes itself, no? It’s set up almost too well. All I have to do is go in and fight, and I’m sure to leave on of those three battered, bruised, and beat up. Do a little bit more? And one of them might go to the hospital, hehehe. And just like that, we’ve reminded everyone why GSW is not to be trifled with. And it’ll only get better once the match is won by either Dunn or I.

Leviticus stares almost coldly at Jeff, clearly at odds with this new attitude and change in delivery of the goal. Crusoe, however, seems to be following along, if a bit begrudgingly, with Jeff, nodding at what he’s saying.

Whitt: See, the hurting thing, that’s only part. We can’t afford to actually lose these matches; we’ve failed too many times and now we have no leeway in that regard. When we go out, we aim for two things, and two things only: hurting our opponents and winning matches. We cannot do one without the other.

Leviticus: And you want me, you want us, to not only go a bit out of our GSW box and be different wrestlers, but to hurt our opponents when we do so, as well? That’s not exactly what I signed up for Jeff. And I’m not sure I can follow through on it.

Without hesitation, Jeff walks up to Levi, not breaking his malicious grin. The two are nose to nose, staring daggers at one another.

Whitt: Let me explain it to you again, Levi. We’ve failed time and time again to use our superior wrestling skill to our advantage, and now cannot rely on that as our crutch for being better than everyone else. However, we’re still here, and still need to do something to make an impact. So, to do that, we must now bring something different to the table, that being violence. And by injuring the competition when winning matches, we make ourselves the top threat in FMW.

Leviticus: I’m not completely sold on going against regular morals just to prove a point, and I don’t think I ever will be.

Whitt: Of course not! You don’t have the, um, balls to do so. You’ll shackle yourself to religion and refuse to sacrifice and do what is necessary.

Leviticus: Necessary to you, Jeff.

Whitt: Necessary for the survival of GSW, Levi! You’d be willing to let this company you pledged allegiance to falter and die because you couldn’t get with the program? How selfish! I never pegged you for the sort.

Levi simply stares at Jeff angrily. Jeff laughs a little bit before taking a step back and looking towards Crusoe, who’s been quiet this whole time, allowing them to work it out between themselves.

Whitt: Crusoe! I need you to tell everyone of our plans. Tell the Squad that they need to be willing and able to go out there with the desire to win and take out the competition.

Crusoe: Right.

Whitt: And Levi, *turns to Leviticus* I need you to do the same on Ammunition. I know you have this tournament for the next FMC contender, and your opponents are, quite simply, nobodies. No one will take it too poorly should you, say, snap one of their arms using your Crossface or what have you. Failure will not be tolerated. I’m counting on you!

Jeff proceeds to head for the door, slapping Leviticus hard on the shoulder as he walks by. Levi and Crusoe watch as he leaves, slamming the door behind him. They look at each other, and Crusoe simply shrugs his shoulders.

Crusoe: Best just do what he says, I reckon.

With that, the grizzled vet begins to head out. Leviticus sighs deeply and shakes his head, upset, angry, and annoyed, as the scene fades to black.
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Seth




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FMW Superstar: Seth Rotunda
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 5:36 pm

He was restless. A look of doubt crossed his face while thoughts ran through his head, his mind asking if he had truly made the right decision, as if there was a chance he could ultimately fail those who had trusted in him after convincing them so much. Although, somewhere in those thoughts were a sense of enthusiasm and self-confidence. His fears were put to rest, as a tall, slender, flamboyant man, dressed in a smart, expensive suit, but with gelled thorns of hair jutting out at various angles on his head, rested his hand on his shoulder. The man whispered a few words, something about “looking the part” and this process being “Step One, in a grand plan”. The restless man nodded his head as the suited man grinned, walked away and ushered a glammed-up women, carrying a sharp pair of scissors, towards the restless man.

The process was over in minutes and the no longer restless man stared at his own reflection. It was definitely an improvement on what he originally had and he now had an aura of class around him. The tall, slender man over his shoulder applauded and said a few compliments. Before the first man knew it, the tall slender one whisked him away into a nearby limo.

The flamboyant one of the duo closed his eyes and threw himself back slowly into his seat, meanwhile, his partner struggled to adjust to his surroundings and twisted and fidgeted in his seat, which attracted the surprised gaze of the chauffeur in the driver seat, who realised what he was doing and turned away, before his boss barked at him. As the limo moved through the streets and into the city centre, the flamboyant man turned to his partner.


“So, how did it feel now that you have the same basic standards as all the others in your little wrestling company?” The flamboyant man smirked.

“It’s good,” Rotunda said, giving a short, simple reply.

“That’s it? Me paying hundreds of pounds to make you not look like a tramp, buying you a new, luxury apartment, changing your wardrobe to the same value of a Dubai prince and giving you a ride in the nicest limousine you’ve ever had your backside sit on and all you can say is good?

…..Sorry, I’m don’t react to criticism well.”

Clarke dug his chin into his chest and massaged his temples with his fingers. Aldridge Clarke muttered a few words under his breath. Once he had finally calmed himself, he sighed and lifted his head up and made immediate eye contact with Rotunda. Clarke smiled awkwardly, as Rotunda struggled to find something to say.

“….That was a compliment,” Rotunda shrugged.

“To somebody of my standards, good is not a compliment.”

“Well, I didn’t-“

“Seth, shut up or I’ll personally shove you out of this car,” Clarke warned.

Rotunda grinned, thinking that Clarke was just playing. The smile quickly evaporated as he saw Clarke’s deathly stare straight at him. Rotunda thought that his new agent needed a switch or at least something that showed him swapping between moods. Rotunda adjusted himself slowly in his seat.

“So, where were we?” Clarke smirked.

“To be honest-“

“That’s right! How does it feel being so close to the top?” Clarke pressed. “Don’t use the word ‘good’ or you’re sacked.”

“It’s brilliant, it really feels like a deserve it,” Rotunda said cockily.

“You know it’s odd. Most people succeed in a business by having some brilliant talent. You’re not one of those people. You’re succeeding by having good eye sight in the backstage of a wrestling arena,” Clarke chuckled.

“It was quite lucky.”

“Oh really? You don’t even protest about me insulting your wrestling skills?”

“You’re kind of my boss now.”

“Please, I’m your agent, I just decide most of your future. But the other half is down to you. I may not sound like I do, but I have some faith in your ability, you’re of course, ‘The Dream Killer’ and we don’t want your dream to die in a fiery explosion now do we?”

“Of course not.”

“But now, thanks to my guidance and that little trinket you found in the rubble, there stands a good chance of achieving your little dreams, isn’t there?”

“Certainly, Clarke.”

“So it certainly seems that a few people will be joining the list of dead and broken dreams in the future.”

“You’re damn right.”

“And now that your first rookie year has passed, it seems you should showcase your ability.”

“Very true.”

“So, this is where we speed up your dreams.”

“Awesome.”

“Driver! Stop the car!” Clarke shouted as the limo slowed to a halt. The driver’s door opened and the chauffeur opened Rotunda’s limo door. They had stopped just outside Rotunda’s new apartment. It shot up into the air, dominating the landscape of the picturesque mountains around them and it stood, watching over the nearby city.

“See ya Clarke,” Rotunda nodded as he moved to get out.

“Hold on a second, Seth,” Clarke commanded.

“Yes?”

“Although our chat was very brief and you’re not the talkative type recently, I just want to get my point across. Prepare yourself, Seth. You’re becoming the champion you’ve imagined yourself to be. It’s coming soon.”

Rotunda’s face became one of concentration and thought. His eyes wandered back to Clarke and Rotunda nodded and left.

“Oh!” Clarke called out of the window. “Don’t let your little Pack friends in, there’s not a cleaner around who’ll be able to get rid of the mess they’ll make.”

****

Rotunda entered his apartment and sat down on his newest leather couch. This entire building and everything in it came entirely from the money in Clarke’s wallet. Mister Soon to be Successful buried his head into his hands and sighed loudly. This was overwhelming. The speculation on what could be, the change of agent and all these new surroundings were a weight. Yet he craved glory and successful so much.

He had to enjoy this. It was better than being stuck with a useless agent like Ap Gruff and living in the murky city of Swansea, in the grey, wet, mossy land of Wales.

Yes, he could stay in sunny America, with easy girls who loved a British accent, cheap alcohol, a tough guy and somebody who looked like a reject off Jersey Shore and he could live a lavish lifestyle with two other Brits, no matter if one was a druggie and the other one had anger problems.

Rotunda got to his feet and left his living room and slowly dragged himself up the stairs and came to his bathroom. There, he collapsed and supported himself on the sink. He looked into the mirror, before splashing water onto his face and looking once again at his reflection.

His new hair and new clothes swiftly turned into a short haired man with a goatee, wearing a hoodie and a know it all grin on his face. The reflection spoke first.


“Seriously? You’re having a crisis as soon as the spotlight comes onto you?” The young Rotunda questioned.

“This is odd,” the current Rotunda muttered as his eyes stared wildly.

“Jesus, you are having a crisis. At twenty-nine! What are you going to do? Buy a motorcycle and drive it across America? Start a rock band? Buy a kitten?” The young Rotunda joked.

“Don’t take the piss.”

“Shit, it speaks.”

The young Rotunda savoured the shock and awe from the current Rotunda.

“How does it feel? One year ago, you were walking into the Mount Vesuvius PPV in some little battle royal. Look how far you’ve come!”

“What do you mean?” The current Rotunda replied.

“You’ve had a couple of title shots, which amounted to nothing. You lose more than you win and now you’re opening a match in the future with the title “Four Men Try to Make A Name For Themselves”.”

“And?”

“You’ve had no effect on the landscape of the company.”

“That’s not true.”

The young Rotunda’s pause and knowing eyes were like a stab to the heart of Rotunda. The current Rotunda took a few steps back, until his back hit the wall. There, he slowly slid down until he was seated.

“See, I told you.”

“Don’t kick me while I’m down.”

“You’re nothing.”

“Shhh.”

“You’re nothing.”

“….”

“You are nothing.”

“….”

“You are nothing. You’re meaningless. I meant, I went from one of the best boxer’s in Swansea and Wales, winning everything I could to become a quivering wreck? Damn. I shouldn’t have bothered after all.”

“DAMN IT SHUT UP!” The current Rotunda leapt to his feet and barked.

The current Rotunda marched up the mirror and reached through the mirror and collared the younger Rotunda and began to shake him viciously.

“I AM NOT THE FAILURE THAT YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE MAY THINK!”

“Mate, chill,” the younger Rotunda whimpered.

“I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A FUTURE CHAMPION!”

“That’s cool, now seriously-“

“SHUT UP! FROM NOW ON I WON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT YOU OR ANYBODY ELSE THINKS THAT I CAN AND CAN’T DO!”

“Easy-“

“IT’LL BE WITH MY RIGHT HAND, MY KNOCKOUT BLOW THAT WILL BE REMEMBERED FOR DECADES TO COME WHEN I FINALLY ASCEND TO BEING TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN! YOU HEAR THAT?”

“That was something along the lines of what I needed to hear,” the young Rotunda smirked.

The rage from the current Rotunda slowly subsided.

“Oh and you may want to remove the glass from your hands,” the young Rotunda pointed and then vanished.

The current Rotunda stood there, perplexed as he looked down and noticed shards of glass in his hand with a small amount of blood pouring out of his palms and his fingers. He ran his hands under the tap and sighed as the scene slowly faded.

****

FMW Headquarters
Halifax
Nova Scotia
Canada

The scene opens up with Rotunda, dressed in an expensive Lacoste T-shirt and tight jeans strutted carelessly into the headquarters of FMW. There sat at the reception desk was a strikingly beautiful woman, at first, gave a welcoming smile that swiftly turned into a frown as she saw The Dream Killer enter.

“Ah, Susie-“

“It’s Jean,” the receptionist interrupted.

“Ah Susie,” Rotunda continued, “It must have been a year since we last saw each other. You, the lonely receptionist with a cheater of a husband, and me, a charming, classy individual that ticks all the boxes a woman like yourself wants.”

The receptionist gave a glare back at the smirking Rotunda who rested his elbow on the desk. Last time they had met, when Rotunda was just a rookie, Rotunda was chased after by security after insulting this women’s husband, who, as it seems, was head of security.

“What do you most like about me, Susie? Is it my eyes? My way with words? Is it the fact that I’m great with children, no matter how bratty they are?”

“Mister Rotunda-“

“Please, call me Seth the Handsome.”

“Seth-“

“The Handsome”

“Yes. I believe Mister Clarke is in Press Room 1 upstairs, second on the right. They’re expecting you.”

“Oh, darling, that can wait.”

“Would you like another encounter with security?” The receptionist threatened.

“Would you like a below average, unexciting six minutes of my time, in a hotel room in Oregon?”

“It would be a pleasure, but-“

“It would involve an awful lot of pleasure.”

“I’m going to be sick,” the receptionist whined.

“C’mon Susie.”

“No.”

“Even if I walked you home?”

“From Oregon to Canada?”

“Because I love you that much, I would,” Rotunda chimed.

“I’ll call the police if I have to. Now leave.”

“You may threaten me with court action, but you know our love will triumph it!”

“9,” said the receptionist as he picked up the headset from the nearby phone and pressed the nine button.

“Or you could go on strike, but then you’ll be similar to the French, and nobody wants to be like the French. Do you want to be like the French, Susie? The French!”

“1”

“Fine. I’ll state why I’m here,” Rotunda moaned.

“Go on.”

“Change the title of my future bout.”

“Why?”

“It’s called: ‘Hardcore Match featuring four men looking to make a name’”

“What’s wrong with that,” the receptionist questioned.

“I’m known. I’m The Dream Killer. I am a somebody and I’m certainly not a curtain jerker.”

“Fine, I’ll lodge the complaint.”

“Good. Now, of you excuse me, I have a press conference to get to,” Rotunda smirked as he jogged past the desk and up the stairs, following the corridor and into a press room, filled with journalists and sat at the table at the front was Aldridge Clarke, with his odd hair still stuck up in all different directions on his head. The camera carrying members turned and quickly snapped pictures of Rotunda as he walked down the space between the journalists and sat behind the table with his agent cum press officer.

“Where the hell were you?” Clarke whispered.

“Dealing with a girl who was immune to my charms,” Rotunda replied.

“Whatever that means,” Clarke said as he rose to his feet, “The Dream Killer, Seth Rotunda will now be taking any questions.”

An arm immediately shot up.

“Justin Richardson, Suplex Weekly. Mister Rotunda, how do you feel about your chances in your match against Blake Vendetta, John Andrews and Kuruk?”

“Straight in there, aren’t you? Anyway, I only fear Blake Vendetta, but hey, he’s a Pack reject. Therefore, I’m more talented, more technical, more social and I don’t have a voice in my head…yet.
If that little native Indian cries over his lands being destroyed, I imagine he’ll have a heart attack over just losing a match. After all, getting in the ring with me is a soul crushing experience as they realise they’ve been outclassed.
There’s about a big a chance as John Andrews winning than as him promising that he won’t fuck his sister. Hell, maybe he’ll even shoot his niece’s laptop because she wrote about how much he sucks on Facebook.

That answer your question?”

“Duke Gregory, Wrestling Monthly. How do you feel about those that feel that you’re unprepared for this bout?”

“They’re entirely wrong. I’ve gone through a lot to prepare for this match. It’s been so intense it involved glass. This is going to end with a right hook to somebody’s face.”

“Luke Riggs, freelance. This new look you’re going to debut, is it the start of a new Seth Rotunda”

“Definitely. From here on now, I’ll be a more aggressive, vicious and lethal Seth Rotunda and it will be a matter of time before I actually claim a title that I crave and ascend to the top of the mountain. And it all starts with this new look.”

“And how should we know when we see the new Rotunda?”

“When I steal some glory from a whether it's a rich man, a shark, an inferno or even a New God with just one. Single. Punch.”



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Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 7:17 pm


S
ome people will make the misguided notion that its easy being bad.

Those people are dumb.

Being bad is simple, sure. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to do something that other people dislike. However, thats where most people stop. At a level many would call 'childish annoyance'.

Well, when you're someone like myself you don't stop at 'decent'. 'Decent' doesn't get you an Ultraviolent championship. A Mount Vesuvius win. Two consecutive main events of our biggest event ever. Two Full Metal Championships. 'Decent' is for those who're content to settle.

It is far more challenging, and entertaining, to be good at being bad. True story. What most people don't understand is that any bad guy worth his weight in salt is the guy you pay money to see get beat up. Behind every good guy they want to see win is this man, because they want to see a person they feel represents themselves triumph. The thing that really gets them though?

Being better than that.

When you're someone who's nearly impossible to beat that really gets them going. Its almost as if wrestling shouldn't have existed before me, the way I make everything look second rate. I understand right now some of you are going to read into this as the 'chicken before the egg' argument, but Im spelling it out to you as plain as day here. Because I exist the rest of our world can function. Its why I laugh when people try telling me Im not the center of the universe.

Oh, and by the way, you're welcome.


-----------------------------------------


The door clicks on Nick Brysons' high rise apartment and he enters, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. He casually drapes his jacket over the back of a chair in the bar of his kitchen and stares out of his floor to ceiling windows. You can see the stars in the sky tonight in England, something Bryson never really noticed in the busy cities in the States.

He removed his tie and tossed it ontop of his jacket as he turned and made his way to the fridge, the light gently illuminating the lavish kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water out of it and walks down a dark hallway, stopping at a wooden door and pushing it open.

With a click he flips the switch and turns on the power to his office. Instantly electronic stock tickers begin to show the numbers of the day across the top of his bookshelves. His large flatscreen on the wall shoots on instantly


Anchor: Now reporting for BBC World News from the United States is-

Bryson lifted the remote and muted the report. He sipped his water again as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and he looked around the office. He looked over the bookshelves, which spanned every inch of wall. He breathes in heavily, sighs, and stretches before he opens one eye, then both. He looks puzzled at something as he moves closer to the bookshelf pulling out a small, tattered book.

He smiles as he takes a seat in one of the large leather chairs facing the TV. He drapes his legs over one of the arms and gently slides his finger down the cover of the book, opening it to the title page.


Nick Bryson's diary.
Age 2

Bryson chuckles to himself as he lifts the first page, looking over the words and pictures he had drawn. He sits happily for a few pages, quickly skimming through, before he stops.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Drewnickbirthday


Today waz my birthday. Mom sayz I am 3. I had a fun time. My best couzin Drew waz there, we plaed tag. I love my couzin Drew. His mommy waz here with Uncle Matt and her frend. My dad and mom made food. I got prezentz. I got markerz too! Next time I color I will color in markerz. Today waz a fun and good day.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Drewnickchristmas


Today was ChRistmas. I got a truk! My best couzin Drew waz here again, he iz cool! He got a glove to catch base ball. I pikked it out. My mom talked to Drewz mommy. Drewz mommyz frend waznt here today, but thatz ok. Uncle Matt waz here and he showd me and Drew how to play a catch. We were in the Werld Seriez. Drew got the three ztrikez to win! I waz hppe for him. Drewz mommy made them leave earle though, I waz felt bad. His mommy said her friend waz mad.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Drewshunsnick


Today my couzin Drew was here but he waz felt bad. He didnt want to plae at all, not even catch for the Werld Seriez. His mommy said to my dad that her friend was mad Drew waz here. Maybe Drew doeznt want to be here? I love my couzin. Maybe he doeznt like me. Drewz mommy had a mark on her face too, maybe she got marker on her like I did. They took my markerz too. Thiz waznt a good or fun day.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Drewtakenaway


I am so sad. Today my favorite couzin Drew left with his mommy and her frend. He yelled at her and my mommy and pushed Drew in the car. I was sad we were going to play hide and seek. Hiz mommy had marks on her arms now, she needz to learn how to use markerz better. I could show her how! My daddy came out of the house and waz mad, he yelled at the car but they didnt stop. I think Drew doeznt want to play with me anymore. He didnt seem happy. I think his mommys friend doeznt like me either, he said I waz a bad Enfluence. Maybe Drew thinkz that too.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Nickseesgun


Today I waz plaeng with my truk. My mommy and dad were out and Uncle Matt waz watching me. He let me have choklate milk two time! I had a nap but I waznt sleep-e so I plaed with my truk again and plaed I was a fire man. I dont think Uncle Matt heard me be awake cauze someone camed over. It was Drews mommyz friend. He waz yelling at Uncle Matt. Uncle Matt told him to go to hiz house, but he didnt leave. I saw them walk past my room. Drewz mommys friend had a thing that maed a loud noize. He ran away after it made a loud noize. I think it scaerd him. My Uncle Matt must have been scaerd too because he didnt say anything after that. I saw him on the couch wen I went out. Hiz shirt waz red. I thought it waz white befoor.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Nicksfamily


Today I told mommy and dad what happened to Uncle Matt yesterday. I think I mad dad mad because he was angree. Mommy was cryng. Dad left mom sad, so I hugged her. She was really sad, her tears made me wet! Dad came home and said that Drew and his mommy and her friend left. I think it was because of me. Maybe I shouldnt haz told dad and mommy. I think Drew would still be here then. I hope he doeznt hate me forever.


Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Funeral



Today my mommy said Uncle Matt is going to rest with the angelz now. Angelz sound nice. Everyone here is crying. They said Uncle Matt is in the box, but I dont think he iz. Drew and his mommy arent here, neither iz her frend. Everyone iz sad and mad, I think itz at me. I just want everyone to stop being sad. It would be more fun and good if Drew waz here.


Bryson looked up from the diary and set it down. He looked at the cover for a moment before he stood and walked over to the large oak desk holding his computer. He slides his finger down the side of the thin screen and it illuminates slowly. The light shined fantly on Bryson as he clicked and began to type.

To: Douchebag Drew
Subject: Hey.

Hey Drew,

I wanted to write to you today and just let it all out. I was going through some memories of us as kids and, I realize this is probably the last thing you want to talk about and believe me the feelings the same, I felt like I should send you something.

I want you to understand that I'm not mad at you for what happened when we were kids. Honestly, it lead to just as shitty a life for me as Im sure you had to deal with. All I know is that when I had you there with me, things were great.

And dont take this as a woe is me letter, either. I love the life I live. I'm finally free, dude. I know you'll understand because honestly, I'm living the life I think you want to. I've got everything anyone could ever ask for and Im free. To do what I want, how I want to do it, and whenever I want to. If I wanted to buy a camel I could right now and nobody would think anything of it. If I wanted to get coffee in Italy tomorrow morning I could get on my private jet and do it. I've used my talents to assemble a group of people around me that are going to be the future hall of famers. They're going to be the next me and you, but mainly me because Im amazing.

No, Drew, I don't regret anything I've done leading up to this amazing, amazing period of life I currently am living. What I regret is my understanding. I understand you didn't leave me before, but why did you abandon me now. Was it because I rose to higher hights? Was it because I started actually competing instead of being your shadow at your back? Why did you drop me for those Broken Saints morons (except that Mark guy, he's turned quite the corner). Why is it that when I became my most successful, you became your most distant.

Notice the period, Drew. Im pretty sure thats a redundant question. Im sure its jealousy, or youll try to paint this as some misunderstanding on my end, but I just cant wrap my brain around it.

Honestly, I'm done looking for your approval. Im done needing you at my back and Im done trying to live up to your lofty name. My name is more important now and you're on your way to obscurity.

I just wish things were different, seriously. I'd love to have things be different but until you come around they never will be.

I don't have anything else to say or whatever so...

Ok, bye.




Bryson paused as he read and reread what he wrote, staring blankly at the screen. He reached out and grabbed his mouse-


[ ] Send | [X] Delete


With one final click the window closed, sending the e-mail to the same obscurity Bryson believed Drew was headed for.

He stood up and finished his water, staring at a small screen with various account names and numbers on them. Every account on the screen continues to grow monetarily. Bryson is emotionless as he slides his finger back up the computer screen, putting it on standby. He turns and clicks the switch and exits the room, closing the door and leaving it in black.



-----------------------------------------


Back to the point, though. I've made moves in my career that have seen me rise continually and I did it originally as an afformentioned good guy back when I was dumb and fairly naieve. Actually, I take that back. I'm pretty blameless in that, don't be so hard on yourself, self. If anyone is to blame for me 'taking the high road' that resulted in my being set aflame, beat down, and ultimately disrespected, its Drew[/size].

Drew, the man who is the perennial hero of FMW. The man who is supposed to be 'the one'. The guy who leads everyone out of the darkness and triumphs over adversity in the final hour who triumphed over evil like he did it single handedly.

Oh, heres a better description. The man who offered up his relative as a sacrifice. The man who was lifted on the shoulders of those more capable. The man who dropped his family and friends the moment they began to outshine him. The man who had to constantly surround himself with worshipers so he could further buy into his cult delusion.

Drew Michaels abandoned everything that made a man decent a long time ago. I decided to wise up and do the same, except I don't hide behind some ruse, and for some reason that makes ME the real bad guy.

Well, they're right. I am. If I am not to be given the respect I have earned then I will simply take it. I will live life how it should be lived, doing whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it. I'm making headlines across the globe. I've achieved more in life than those who achieve dream of. Now I call the shots and create futures. Obviously its extremely fitting that I am Your New God. Embrace the future or be crushed by it.

Its sort of ironic that I'm still a fan favorite. Honestly. I'm the man they love to hate. Being good at being bad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist.

It takes me.
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Drew Michaels
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FMW Superstar: Drew Michaels
Championship: C-4 Championship

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 9:53 pm

Just another night...

Nick Bryson sighs. He sits on the edge of his bed and stares out of the window on to the land he bought in the newly christened city of Cleveland in merry old England. He looks for something, anything, to ease his burden. Nick Bryson lives the high life and rightfully so. He is a successful wrestler, actor, businessman. He has broken out of the shadow of his family to become a man of his own right and did so on his own terms. No more shall he be the puppet of his family, a tool to remove obstacles in the way of their attempt to rise to prominence. He has it all, everything.

Yet he still pains.

The fact that his aches still ache is no big secret. Despite being an exceptionally young man for all the success he has had in his life, he still hurts like a man many years his elder. His knees creak when he stands up, his ankles constantly scream in protest with every step he takes. He pushes himself too hard in the weight room and even harder in the wrestling ring and his body, despite looking to be in excellent condition to any outside observer, is constantly in rebellion against him. However, we all know the rich do not lose the ability to feel physical pain; that much is obvious. The real problem is the pain that stings inside...

Nick's mind hurts.

He cannot explain it nor would even attempt to. The obvious answer would be an extremely detrimental lack of sleep that would leave most men a babbling wreck of flesh on the ground. Nick is living a lifestyle that is obviously not healthy and he knows it as well as anyone. After all, every human body needs sleep and especially one that constantly physically exerts itself to levels which it never should reach. Nick knows the risks all too well...

Yet still he forsakes sleep.

This has happened before, a few months ago when he took some time off from active competition in Full Metal Wrestling. Nick needed to find himself and did so, however the fact remains many did not approve of the man he found; in particular his now estranged cousin Andrew Michaels. During this time, Nick began to lose sleep for a completely different matter, a matter that led him to face his past and every decision in it.

That was when the nightmares consumed Nicholas.

They were not the exact same every night, that would be too easy to deal with. Instead, each night featured a different face, a different story. These faces were all far too familiar to Nick, he knew every single one of them personally, they cut to the core of his being unlike any other could and each dream hurt him deeper than the last. They told their story; a story of what was and what could have but never shall be. They told Nick of futures destroyed, of lives ruined. They told Nick of his sins.

They were the victims of a past Nick Bryson can never let go.

Nick sees their faces over and over again, his inability to shake them is his own personal hell. He cannot sleep, he cannot even close his eyes for a second of rest without them flooding back into his consciousness. For months, it is impossible for Nick to possibly avoid the demons of his past every time his body craves the rest it naturally needs. He finally accepts that sleep will never come again when suddenly, it stops.

It just stops.

No more nightmares. No more evil dreams. No more reminders of a vile past. He was able to rest. Or so he thought. For now Nick does not lose sleep because of dark dreams but because of no dreams. His mind has stopped dreaming, has stopped expanding at night. Instead, it is just darkness; similar to the darkness that consumes his soul. He grows to fear the darkness, it reminds one far too much of death. He grows to hate the darkness. He grows to despise the darkness. He cannot accept the darkness.

So, once again, he does not sleep.

Nick sighs and flips on his television for it is going to be another long night. He sighs and, with his sigh, our scene fades to black...


*****

The Drew Michaels Story: The Interviews Part 1


Interviewer: What do you think of Drew Michaels?

Peter Saint: Drew is an old friend. He was one of the first guys to introduce himself when I joined LPW years ago as Homicide and I was glad to see him follow to FMW as well. While he did not quite agree with what we were doing with the MWA at times, which is a definite understatement when you look at the tension that had developed between his Misfits and our little group, he always seemed to respect us. He had a smile on his face most of the time and generally was a joy to be around in the back, a real locker room leader that younger guys like myself would aspire to be. The company...no, the business, will be a lesser place for his coming departure. He is the last of the greatest generation of stars and I think we will definitely all miss seeing him and having us be a part of our lives through the wrestling world.

*****

O'Rion: How can you do it b'ye!?

The scene opens to a bar that means very much to many Full Metal Wrestling fans, a Canadian bar called the Peddler's Pub; the same Peddler's Pub co-owned by former FMW superstars Alexander O'Rion and Dante “RAMPAGE!” Jones. And it is these two same men who are sitting across the way from Drew as he sips on his glass of water, staring absentmindedly at his old friends with a wicked smile on his face.

Michaels: Oh whatever do you mean Alexander?

Dante: Don't bullshit us Drew.

Michaels: I could not if I tried.

Dante: Then how can you let him do this to you?

Michaels: You mean Deveraux? Not sure I really have a say at this point.

O'Rion: Bullshit.

Michaels: Seems to be the word of the day. However, I still am not sure what this is all about besides the initial yelling about something I have no control over and I have to say, flying to Canada to be yelled at before my last match ever in FMW is not exactly what I had in mind for training.

Dante: You don't need to train to beat that little shit Nick, we all know that.

Michaels: I tend to disagree. After all, he did beat me last time we met.

Dante: Luck. Pure and simple, it was luck.

Michaels: Again, I have to disagree.

Dante: You helped train Nick.

Michaels: And so did you. Your point?

Dante: You know as well as I do his best weapon is not his in-ring talent and it never has been. He is just like Deveraux, all mouth and brain. He is a businessman masquerading as a pro wrestler.

O'Rion: Hell, I kicked his face in at U2.

Michaels: And you were fucking terrible.

O'Rion: Fuck you.

Michaels: Love you too. I also know you two did not call me to give me a pre-match pep talk before I get to dispose of SPARTA's Marty Jannetty so get to the point so I can get out of this iceberg of a country.

O'Rion: I really thought you would get over this Canada hate crap at some point. Or at least run out of corny jokes.

Michaels: Never and never. I blame your inability to understand that on the fact you likely caught Eskimo hepatitis from some random Canuck skank.

O'Rion: Jealous.

Dante: Can we please get on with this instead of the petty shit you two are rambling on about?

Michaels: I have been saying that since we got here. So why the fuck am I in Canada?

Dante: We want to know why you are leaving FMW.

Michaels: I am being forced out.

Dante: No, you are not.

Michaels: It seems we have a basic disconnect here.

Dante: Yes, we do. You are convinced that you have to walk away because Deveraux is throwing a shit contract at you. I call bullshit on that. You claim your goal is to fix FMW, to save it. How you get paid and booked does not change that goal.

Michaels: I am not going to be disrespected.

O'Rion: Because Jaro thought so much of us, eh?

Michaels: At least he knew talent is what brought the fans in, not marketing and whatever other shit his type is pushing on the world.

Dante: There it is.

O'Rion: Yep.

Drew looks around confused.

Michaels: What are you talking about?

O'Rion: “His type”. You said “his type”.

Michaels: Yeah...so?

Dante: That is the key to this all.

Michaels: Excuse me?

Dante: You don't want to give Deveraux the satisfaction because of what he represents to you. With Jaro, with Phantom Lord, with Smitten; you may have disagreed with them but you respected them because they were one of the boys and they respected you too even if it was all subconscious. You knew how to resolve your problems with them, which was challenge their pride and ego in the ring which you excelled at. With Deveraux though, it is different.

O'Rion: Because he isn't one of the b'yes, he is an outsider.

Dante: Corporate.

O'Rion: A suit.

Dante: A walking piece of shit in Armani.

Michaels: All solid descriptions to me. So you are saying I do not know how to deal with an executive type?

O'Rion: Pretty much, yeah.

Michaels: And that is why I am walking away?

Dante: Potentially.

Drew thinks about it a minute, take a deep breath, and then shakes his head.

Michaels: I just do not know if I buy it.

Dante: Because you are a stubborn ass.

O'Rion: Very much so.

Dante: One of the biggest.

O'Rion: Massive.

Michaels: Thanks guys...

Dante: Just think about it Drew. Can it be that your own lack of control over the situation is what has led to this and not the contract situation? You do not know how to deal with a man like Deveraux so, instead of adapting, you tuck and run in order to avoid the cold, hard reality.

Michaels: So you are saying I am a coward?

Dante: Not at all, just-

Michaels (Interrupting): No, fuck that! I am will not sit here and be talked down to by two guys who bailed on this fed months ago! You both walked away and I stayed! I kept the banner waving! Well guess fucking what!? I can't do it all myself anymore! So fuck you and fuck this!

Drew smashes the glass with a backhand, sending it flying across the room. He jumps up and walks away, leaving Alexander and Dante sitting alone as our scene again fades to black...

*****

The Drew Michaels Story: The Interviews Part 2

Interviewer: What do you think of Drew Michaels?

Bloodrose:Andrew Fenton Michaels is a true competitor and a man of his word. While we may not have seen eye to eye for...various reasons, I always had a respect for him. His talent in the one is legitimate and he possesses an innate ability to lead that even he does not seem to truly understand. It is a shame to see him forced to step away in such a manner and this will be moment that will be discussed by historians of our industry for decades to come.

Decades I, of course, will be around to witness unlike many.

*****

The scene reopens to the airport terminal where Drew is sitting quietly, waiting for the flight he just bought a ticket for. The red-eye flight was the earliest he could get a ticket for to his home in Philadelphia after he bailed on the meeting with his old friends and stormed out. Now he simply is waiting and regrettably thinking when a figure sits down next to him and just shakes his head. Drew looks over to see the man is his best friend and aide Abraham. Abraham picks up the magazine in front of him and scans it quickly, slowly building up the courage to make some small talk.

Abraham: So that Demi Moore is really fucked in the head, huh?

Michaels: What do you want Abraham?

Abraham: Are you okay?

Michaels: I have to wrestle my own flesh and blood in a couple days in front of a crowd who will be racing me to see which will have a mental breakdown first because this will possibly be my last wrestling match ever. And, instead of spending time with my family or training for said match, I am in Canada. And it is fucking cold. Overall though, I have to say I think I am doing pretty good considering.

Abraham: And how are you dealing with your...other loss?

Michaels: I cope.

Abraham: Are you sure?

Michaels: What are you pressing at?

Abraham: You seem more...distant lately. Even Juliet has noticed it.

Drew sighs and follows it with a smirk, shaking his head.

Michaels: Of course she has. And she sent you to check up on me to make sure I was still in control of myself, right?

Abraham: She's worried. I went by the bar a bit ago and caught Alex and Dante. They are both worried too.

Michaels: Let them all worry.

Abraham jumps back in shock, caught completely off guard by the off-hand remark made by his old friend.

Abraham: Excuse me?

Michaels: Everyone seems to worry too damn much about my problems and my life, does no one else have anything else fucking going on to deal with? Fucking shit, maybe in a minute everyone else I have ever met will storm in for an intervention to deal with some fucking imaginary problem they have all conceived I am afflicted with.

Abraham: What the fuck are you going on about Drew?

Michaels: I am “going on about” the fact everyone just needs to get the fuck out of my life and worry about themselves for once! I can deal with my own issues!

Abraham: We just worry about you...

Michaels: Then don't! Don't worry about me! Don't care about me! All worrying about others does is leave you a broken, tired shell wishing he had taken the other roads in front of him. You are all better all protecting yourselves first....

An awkward silence fills the air for a few minutes between the old friends before Abraham finally gathers up the words to break it.

Abraham: This is not about people worrying at all.

Michaels: Of course not.

Abraham: Then what is it about?

Michaels: It is about the fact that my life has been spent trying to help and guide others to a better world and all that I am left with is a career full of regrets and a desire to do more. But guess what Abraham? I can't do more, no matter how much I crave the chance to do so. I am stuck in a lame duck situation with one last match with the typical odds stacked up against. I had to go to Nick's show with Nick's thugs all around in order to take the fight to one of the most talented superstars in FMW history in an attempt to hopefully go out on a high note. I want to help the company in my exit but all I can do is hold on desperately once again in order to hopefully stand tall one last time. So yeah, I have a lot on my mind.

Abraham: You feel you have no control over the situation.

Drew sighs again.

Michaels: Control seems to be the keyword lately. A lack of control over my personal life, a lack of control over my business life, a lack of control over my entire world. I cannot control anything it seems, I simply get washed along with the waves because I control nothing.

Abraham: And what are you going to do about?

Drew thinks carefully for a minute before answering.

Michaels: I am going to take back control.

Abraham: And how are you going to do that?

Michaels: I am going to go to the ticket counter.

Abraham: What?

Michaels: I have to get my ticket changed.

Abraham: What are you talking about?

Michaels: A ticket to Philadelphia will never get me to England Abraham.

Drew smiles at his friend as he stands up to walk away and our scene fades to black...

*****

The Drew Michaels Story: The Interviews Part 3


Interviewer: Tell us what you think of Drew Michaels.

Jaro: Fuck him.

Interviewer: Is that it?

Jaro: Pretty much, yeah.

Interviewer: No story you really want to share about him?

Jaro: Piece of shit made me a lot of money. But I still hate him. So fuck him. Can I get paid now?

*****

The scene opens in the well decorated home of Sir Nicholas Bryson; professional wrestler, actor, businessman, and general all around asshole. Bryson is seated in his living room, watching a tape of his previous match with his cousin Drew when a crash is heard behind him. Turning around quickly, Nick sees the man who in the tape is his opponent standing tall behind his couch with a broken vase at his feet. Drew simply smiles and waves at Nick.

Michaels: How is it hanging baby cousin?

Bryson: What the hell are you doing in my house!?

Michaels: Breaking shit.

Bryson: Get out.

Michaels: Nah, I am good.

Bryson: Get the hell out.

Michaels: Totally good.

Bryson: It wasn't a request.

Michaels: I know.

Nick curses under his breath before looking back at Drew, anger practically radiating off his form as he forces the words out of his mouth.

Bryson: What do you want Drew?

Michaels: I want to talk.

Bryson: To talk?

Michaels: Yes, to talk.

Bryson: Only talk?

Michaels: Only talk.

Bryson: No guns?

Michaels: I do not even own one anymore.

Bryson: Well that is a little bit of a let down.

Michaels: Sorry I guess. Can I sit?

Bryson: You already broke into my house so shit, why not?

Drew walks around the couch and sits in a recliner, turning it to face the coach as Nick turns around from facing backwards to stare eye to eye with Drew.

Michaels: None of your little “New Gods” are here?

Bryson: Not currently, no. But don't worry Drew, if you try to pull anything I can take care of you all by myself. I am pretty sure we have proved that before.

Drew turns around to see the video of their previous match on the screen. Drew laughs.

Michaels: Studying film, huh? Seems to be something someone taught you the importance of. Now who could that have been?

Bryson: Because obviously you are the first person who ever studied film ever, right?

Michaels: So angry. Why are you so angry?

Bryson: I've been constantly kicked to the curb time and time again by people who I thought should care about me who instead just used and abused me. You know; dads, moms, friends, partners, cousins. Those kind of people.

Michaels: I never kicked you to the curb Nick.

Bryson: The bathroom is down the hall.

Michaels: Excuse me?

Bryson: Oh, I'm sorry. After you spewed that boldface lie, I assumed you must have been absolutely full of shit.

Michaels: I promise you, it is not a lie.

Bryson: Nearly everything you have to say is a lie Drew. You just have this ability to make your lies sound so damn appealing when compared to the truth.

Michaels: Nick, I would never lie to you.

Bryson: All you have ever done is lie to me.

Michaels: You are the only family I have Nick...

Bryson: What about Omega?

Michaels: What about him?

Bryson: What about your precious little Seth Omega? Your new “cousin”?

Michaels: The only person who ever ate that shit up was him and you know it as well as I do. I grew up around Seth until my stepdad's family put him up for adoption, this much is true. But there is no blood shared between us. There is no common ground. All he serves to remind me of is how much of a monster that entire family is.

Bryson: Then why do you carry their name still?

Michaels: What do you mean?

Bryson: When you found out who you really were, why did you never change your name? We had talked about it but you never went through with it. Why?

Drew thinks for a minute, vaguely remembering the short conversation that apparently meant more to his cousin then it ever did to him. Much more.

Michaels: Someone has to bring some honor to the Michaels name.

Bryson: And there you go bringing up honor and truth and shit like that again when you have no clue what it actually is.

Michaels: Looking at it though, how much better is the Bryson name? After all, it is the name of the same family who tortured you and led to you becoming what you are.

Bryson: And what is that exactly?

Drew smirks.

Michaels: A spoiled, petulant child.

Bryson: Hello Mr Pot. It's Mr. Kettle. You're black.

Michaels: That is what all this is though, is it not? You are just acting out because you lost some award and now you can finally be out on your own and be successful instead of being the younger cousin that no one ever wanted. After all, I was the Chosen One. You were the back-up. Not really important but a “just in case”. In fact, one could say you ruined your own chances to be someone truly important by being the one who found me and introduced me to this life.

Bryson: I thought you could be a kindred spirit, someone who would understand the world that we were thrust into at birth. But instead, all you have ever been able to understand is your own desire to push yourself forward.

Michaels: That is just the crux of your argument, is it not? That I only care about me? Well, let me ask you, where were you at Ultimatum 2?

Bryson: Wrestling a title match.

Michaels: Yep. AFTER I was attacked. AFTER I was nearly killed in front of the entire audience. AFTER no one came to save me, including you. Where were you?

Bryson: I...

Michaels (Interrupting): It doesn't even fucking matter what you have to say. It really fucking doesn't. I have ignored it for a long as I could because I wanted...no, I NEEDED to think you had a reason for not being there. Maybe you were locked in a room somewhere. Maybe you were jumped too. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe you just did not give a shit about me when it could possibly hurt you.

I came back targeting men like Skyler Striker for claiming to be a hero and doing nothing when confronted with evil but you, you are just a guilty. You refused to save me, to save FMW, and you shall one day answer for it. And then, when FMW needed a hero to step up after I was stricken down, you disappeared. You were just gone one day. You did not visit me in the hospital, that was Dante. You did not fight for me in the ring, that was Seth. You did not stand by me when I returned, that was Levi and Ro and Heath and your new little buddy Mark.

YOU WERE NOT THERE!

You run me down asking why I did not come to you to join my Saints but the real question is where the fuck were you when I needed you? Why did you not come to save me when I needed a friend, needed family? Why did you not care?

Why?

Silence fills the room, Nick and Drew just stare at each other. All the feelings between them are finally out in the open, tears begin to fill Drew's eyes as he contemplates the betrayals that he had forced to never cross his mind again. Finally, Nick speaks in a soft voice.

Bryson: Get out.

Michaels: That's it?

Bryson: Get. Out.

Drew shakes his head and turns to walk away. However, after a couple steps he stops and turns back around, staring a hole through his cousin with a glare of absolute hatred.

Michaels: For the last couple days, people have talked to me about control and I have tried my damn best not to listen to them. But, as it stands, I had to confront that I had a problem. And now I see that you have the same problem. When the situation was about you being wronged, it was open air. But now, you have lost CONTROL and suddenly, everything changes. Everything but you Nick Bryson, you continue to be the little bitch who to feed off my scraps. Even when faced with my last possible match, I see myself continuing to evolve as a man and a competitor. But you...

You NEVER change.

Drew turns and walks out as the scene fades to the eternal black...

*****

The Drew Michaels Story: The Interviews Part 4

Interviewer: What word best describes Drew Michaels to you?

Nick Rikjaard: Principled.

*****

The scene reopens to the home of Sir Nicholas Bryson, again in his bedroom. He lays his head down to sleep again, wishing against all hope that he will not suffer through another night of nothingness but not being hopeful. However, he knows sleep must come, it has to come. His body cannot stand going without any longer. Closing his eyes, he drifts to sleep quickly and falls not into the blackness but another dream...

Another nightmare.

However, this time it is not a parade of past victims of violent acts. It is not even someone Nick hurt directly with his hands, at least not at the point this happened. Instead Nick is back at Ultimatum 2, sitting in his locker room watching the monitor preparing for his match which is next. Preparing for a title fight.

He sees HavOc storming the ring.

He sees Drew trying to fight.

He sees no one coming to the rescue.

He sees blood.

He sees chaos.

He sees mayhem.

He sees himself doing nothing over and over again...


*****

The Drew Michaels Story: The Interviews Part 5

Interviewer: What do you think of Drew Michaels?

The man takes a deep breath and sits up out of the shadows to reveal Nick Bryson. His eyes are sunken in and one can tell sleep has not been kind to him lately.

Bryson: Drew Michaels? No comment. (Sighs) Just...no comment.

Interviewer: Are you sure?

Nick shakes his head and gets up, walking out of the scene leaving the chair empty in the interview room.

Interviewer: Nick? Nick? Nick?

The camera shuts off causing us to abruptly again find the eternal black...








A man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.” - Don Corleone, “The Godfather


Last edited by Drew Michaels on Mon Feb 13, 2012 7:19 am; edited 1 time in total
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Shock

Shock


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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 10:51 pm

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match

Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino vs ????

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match

Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson

*The other Round Ones didn't promo, so I did not vote


Last edited by Shock on Mon Feb 13, 2012 7:46 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Sharpedo King
FMW Abandoned Champion
FMW Abandoned Champion
Sharpedo King


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Location : Hoenn Region, PokeEarth

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 11:23 pm

The Sharpedo Chronicles
Episode 01: Speak Like a Pokémon


???: Sharky? Sharky! Wake up!

I found it hard to open my eyes after… what was it that happened? I don’t remember. Anyways. I found it hard to get up. My body felt like it was a ton of lead as I tried to get up, but it was The Linguist that kept me pinned down to my bed.

The Linguist: Don’t get up, Sharky. You’ve been sleeping for three days. What happened?

Unable to use any body gestures for my manager to translate, I had no other choice but to speak to tell Linguist what I could. Instead of words, all I could say was…

Sharky: Sharpedo…

I was shocked. I couldn’t even speak properly, but I have a feeling that this word had said it all for me.

The Linguist: You can speak? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

Sharky: Shar… pedo…

The Linguist: You are saying that you don’t remember anything after winning the Abandoned Championship from Apostasy?

Sharky: Sharpedo.

The Linguist: Okay… stop saying ‘pedo’ like that or you’ll be mistaken for a Pedobear.

I was able to gather enough strength to pull my arm up, and smack The Linguist upside the head. I wasn’t in the mood to joke around, but at least he was starting to understand me better.

The Linguist: OW! I was only kidding, Sharky. I can understand what you are saying, Sharky. You can’t remember anything, and that you speaking like this isn’t of your choice. At least you can speak above water. That is an improvement.

Sharky: Shar-Sharpedo?

The Linguist: You want to know what you are speaking and how I can understand you, right?

I nodded, not knowing the origins of the language I was speaking, and wanting to learn more of why I can speak it. The Linguist pulled out a weird red device, and opened up the cover, flipping it back to reveal an LCD screen showing a ball that closely resembled the dial that was on one side of the device. The Linguist called it a PokéDex. He scrolled through the various Pokemon, until he reached #319. He pressed the center of the dial, having the PokéDex vocalize the stats.

#319: Sharpedo
The Brutal Pokémon
Sharpedo is the Evolved form of Carvanha
It is a Water and Dark dual-type Pokémon.
Special Ability: Rough Skin
Description: The vicious and sly gangster of the sea, its skin is specially textured to minimize drag in water. Its speed tops out at over 75 miles per hour.
Native Region of Pokéarth: Hoenn at water-bound routes, including Mossdeep City and Pacifidlog Town.


The Linguist: Sharpedo is a Pokémon native to the Hoenn Region. The first noted Shark Pokémon in the games, Anime, and the cards before Gible was introduced as a Land Shark Pokémon (despite it being an Ground/Dragon dual-type). And fortunate for you, I can understand a select few Pokémon languages, including Sharpedo.

Sharky: Shar… pedo?

The Linguist: Yes, I am a bit of a nerd. It’s one of the requirements of being an interpreter.

If I was an anime character, a sweat drop would’ve appeared on the brow of my helmet. He seemed like the ultimate PokéNerd to me.

The Linguist: I have an idea for your change in ring name, and I can pull a few strings to get an engraved name plate for your title belt.

Sharky: …pedo?

The Linguist: I know you think of me as a super Nerd for knowing a lot about the shit you’re going through, but why don’t you go by the name Sharpedo King? It might help you in the long run, and it’s not like the slave name we thought you had no choice but to go by.

He was right about one thing; Son of Shark Boy was a slave name. Back when I started in FMW, and even when I emerged from the Pacific Ocean, And I could use this affliction – however I got it – to my advantage.

Sharky: …pedo. (Fine.)

The Linguist: Good. I will also fax over to FMW HQ on how you will be billed from now on. Nothing too drastic, except for your name change and the location you’re billed from. And I know a good way to debut your new name. The Corruption show at the Rose Garden Arena in Portland… Oregon, not Maine.

Sharky: Shar… Sharpedo?

The Linguist: Yes, you do have a match. It’s a Through Hell and Back Match. It’s a steel cage match with a prize suspended above the ring. All one needs to do is escape the cage, and grab a ladder to bring into the ring. The wrestler throws the ladder into the cage, and uses it to reach the prize. The trick is getting back in the cage before one of your opponents gets up the ladder and retrieve the secret prize.

Sharky: Sharpedo?

The Linguist: Your opponents? Right… Your opponents for that match are Jeff Whitt of GSW, Matt Dunn also of GSW, Ultraviolent Champion the Celt, and Apostasy.

I growled. Two of the thugs from Gold Standard Wrestling’s faction were in this match. They were two people I wanted to tear limb from limb since before SMUT was formed. The Celt has been Ultraviolent Champion since before my debut. He’ll be more than a decent opponent to square off in the cage. Apostasy… the person I won the Abandoned title from after Paper Bag Man failed. I put my mask on the line to win that title from him, and he doesn’t even get a rematch clause in his contract. Though there are three people interfering in our affairs, this would be a decent non-title rematch.

While I was contemplating a strategy, The Linguist was filling out a form he printed out to help in the repackaging of myself.


The Linguist: Son of Shark Boy… New ring name… Sharpedo King. New Billing Location… Hoenn Region…

Sharky: Sharpedo?

The Linguist: Almost done, Sharky. Though we might need to brainstorm a little bit on renaming a signature move, or making a unique finisher for this gimmick.

Sharky: Shar… (You lost me.)

The Linguist: Just cope with me… we’ll get everything looking good for you. You’ll see.

Now there’s two mysteries I have to unearth; how I ended up speaking in the language of a Shark Pokémon, and what the prize for winning the Through Hell and Back Match is… either way, I am in for a lot of challenges along the way. At least I know what I am going to be known as… Sharpedo King. The name is fitting for my current situation. And at least the Linguist can understand me better with this strange language I seem to speaking. He had me check and sign approval for the new ring name and billing info before he put it in his fax machine. With limited handwriting skills, I signed on the line my manager written an X on, and he placed his signature on the line below mine, and signed, dating both lines. He placed it in the fax machine feed, sending it to FMW Headquarters.

Ring Name: Sharpedo King
Billed from: Hoenn Region of Pokéarth
Biography: Once identified as Son of Shark Boy, this peculiar Luchador is emulating the mannerism and languages of a third-generation Pokémon. Though how he came to speak this language is unknown, yet according to his manager, this won’t impede his alliance with Paper Bag Man and StormMaster nor will it change the way he perform in the ring.

Surf his wave, villains; he dares ya!
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David GS
FMW Anarchy Ultraviolent Champion
FMW Anarchy Ultraviolent Champion



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Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeSun Feb 12, 2012 11:53 pm

Nothing is what it seems.

If you're lucky, that's one of the first things you learn in this business. You learn that in order to be ready for anything, a necessity in this sport, you must accept nothing at face-value. Odds are, what you think and believe and know to be true is false. Every single bit of it may be a lie, a falsehood, a blanket that has been pulled over your eyes to keep you from being all that you can be.

Your friends may not be your friends.

Your enemies may not be your enemies.

Your greatest triumph and most crushing failure may be one and the same, and what you perceive to be your greatest strength may in fact be your most easily exploited weakness.

In the sport of professional wrestling, the most successful ones are the ones who pick up on this truth the quickest. They're the ones who see through the smoke and mirrors of backstage politics, the ones who can spot the lies placed before them, the ones who can differentiate friend from foe on the most basic of levels. They're the ones who become champions, the ones who win tournaments, and the ones who are forever immortalized as being the undisputed masters of their craft.

Meanwhile, those who are unable to grasp this concept are doomed to fail, again and again and again. Theirs is the path of obscurity, the road of missed shots and blown opportunities. Time and again they have believed victory was theirs, only to have it snatched away by someone who was smarter, someone who could see things for what they were, someone who ... well, someone who was better.

Nothing is what it seems.

Success realizes that.

Failure does not.




Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread OELD2


The door at one end of the hallway slammed open, banging hard against the wood-panel wall. David followed Nick over the threshold, neither man breaking stride as they headed down the narrow, well-lit corridor toward Nick's study. As they went, David briefly stopped what he was saying to marvel at the architecture. This was the first time he'd been to Bryson's mansion, and it was, to be frank, stunning. After a few seconds of looking around, he shook his head and refocused. This was serious.

"I still don't get it," he continued as they walked. "I'm one of the best competitors Anarchy has, if not the best." That last sentence caused Bryson to look at him out of the corner of his eye; David realized what he'd said, and quickly moved on. "You know what I mean. Why don't I have a slot in the UV Title Tournament?"

They came to the set of ornate double-doors at the end of the hallway, and stopped. "I already told you," Nick said as he dug into his pocket for the key, "I can't tell you."

"You can't ... " David exhaled slowly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why can't you tell me?"

"I just can't."

The former Full Metal Champion withdrew the key from his pocket, inserted it into the lock, and turned. The doors swung open, and David followed Bryson into a personal study that was, for lack of a better term, excessive.

Straight back from the door was a big fireplace, with a rug and a cozy-looking armchair directly in front of it. To the left was a large picture window, and directly in front of that was an old oak desk that looked like it had been crafted for a high-ranking politician of some kind. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were lined with books, and looking over some of the titles, David found himself sincerely doubting that they were there for any reason other than to fill space.

David turned to Bryson, watching as he went over to the desk and sat down behind it. There was a single chair on the opposite side; he gestured to it, and David sat down after a moment.

Neither man spoke for a time. Nick occupied himself with organizing some loose papers that were strewn across the desk, and David merely sat in his chair. Presently, however, he began to fidget, and it wasn't long before Bryson noticed this and set the stack of papers off to the side.

"Talk to me," he said.

David blinked. " ... what?"

"Talk to me," he repeated. "You're fidgeting. Something's bugging you."

It wasn't until then that David noticed the nervous, incessant use of his hands - flicking the index finger of his right into the open palm of his left - and forced himself to stop. "It's nothing," he said. "Just ... just, I don't know." He then went silent for a few moments, bringing his fist up and resting his chin on it. Bryson was still looking at him, though, and after a few seconds David ended up spilling it.

"All right," he started. "I'm ... you brought me into Y.N.G because you said you saw something special in me. You told me I have what it takes to be great, one of the greatest. I jumped ship from the Sons of Attrition because you ... well, you seemed to mean what you were saying. My career had stagnated with those guys, and I joined Y.N.G in the hope that you'd be able to get it back on the right track."

Bryson nodded slowly, not saying anything just yet.

"And so far, you have," David continued. "This training I've been doing with you, Mark, and Matt has been paying off big-time. I'm better in the ring than I've ever been before. But ... well, the thing is ... "

He shrugged, and had to fight to keep himself from fidgeting again.

"I want more," he said finally.

Bryson's eyebrows shot up, but he still didn't say anything. That, somehow, was worse than any other response he could've possibly given, and against his best efforts, David began flicking his open palm once again.

"I mean no disrespect," he said, "but I feel like I'm falling into the same pattern I did with the SoA. I don't want to just be the heavy-hitter in tag team matches. I don't want to be the guy who deserves more than he gets but, for whatever reason, just doesn't get it. I don't know why I haven't been put in the tournament for the Ultraviolent Championship, but dammit, Nick, I want in. I want that belt, and if I had the chance, I'd be able to win the whole thing without breaking a sweat."

"I know."

David stopped, his rant cut off. Bryson had folded his hands on the desk in front of him and sat, watching his protege with eyes that were both bright and alarmingly aware.

"You seriously gotta stop this," he said, his voice flat but forceful. "All this self-doubt bullshit? It's irritating as hell. You don't need to tell me you're the best Anarchy has to offer - you think I don't know that? I'm the one who picked you for Y.N.G, remember that?"

David blinked, taken aback. "Well, I, uh ... "

"You're not competing in the UV Title tournament," Bryson said, reaffirming the source of David's resurfacing insecurities. "And it's for a damned good reason. I can't tell you what it is right here and now, but since you were smart enough to abandon those losers in SoA and come hang with us, then I'm going to assume you're smart enough to trust me when I say that just because you weren't booked this week, in the tournament or otherwise, doesn't mean I don't have plans for you."

He stopped speaking, unfolding his hands and leaning back in his desk chair.

David didn't know what to say right then. "I, uh ... all right." He gestured towards the door. "I guess I'll be going then."

Bryson shrugged. "Okay, if you want."

In the awkward silence that followed, David got up from his seat and went over to the study door. Just as he was about to exit into the corridor, however, Bryson's voice stopped him.

"Nothing is what it seems, David."

He turned to see the former Full Metal Champion looking at him, his expression quite serious.

"Remember that," Bryson added.

Not yet grasping the full gravity of his mentor's words, David nodded slowly. He pulled one of the heavy oak doors open, stepped out into the hallway, and gently pulled it shut behind him.



Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread OELD2


Nothing is what it seems.

That was the first time I'd ever heard the phrase uttered directly, and speaking honestly, the truth it carries didn't reach me right away. Now, though, having thought about it, I don't know that any factoid or piece of advice regarding this sport has ever resonated more strongly with me.

It is fact. It is truth. And the sooner one realizes that, the better one's chances are of surviving in this hellish industry we refer to so beningly as wrestling.

Nothing is what it seems.

Not you, not me ...

Nothing.
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Edible14
Head Writer
Head Writer
Edible14


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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 12:05 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match

Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
BOBINO

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match

Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson

*When voting for the UV tournament, vote for two winners and one participant to win in the second round
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the nick bryson
Head Writer
Head Writer



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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 12:19 am

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta
-Need to read all of these again. Fantastic job gentlemen.

Singles Match
Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
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PBrooks

PBrooks


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Age : 35

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Paul Brooks
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 12:53 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Callum Pullin vs Paul Brooks - Paul Brooks

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels
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Sharpedo King
FMW Abandoned Champion
FMW Abandoned Champion
Sharpedo King


Posts : 118
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Location : Hoenn Region, PokeEarth

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Sharpedo King
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 12:55 am

Corruption

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santana Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Sharpedo King vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Ryder Strong

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match

Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
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Jeff
FMW Corruption Ultraviolent Champion
FMW Corruption Ultraviolent Champion
Jeff


Posts : 639
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Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: "Truly Talented" Jeff Whitt
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 1:01 am

Corruption

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santana Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Sharpedo King vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson

will update the uv title tourny later.
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Braxton
HWU
HWU
Braxton


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FMW Superstar: Sage and Santana Braxton
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 1:59 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santana Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
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Vendetta

Vendetta


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FMW Superstar: Blake Vendetta
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 4:39 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton)

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Brooks

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Nick Bryson

*When voting for the UV tournament, vote for two winners and one participant to win in the second round
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Skyler Striker
FMW C-4 Champion
FMW C-4 Champion
Skyler Striker


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Age : 33
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FMW Superstar: Skyler Striker
Championship:

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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 5:34 am

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santana Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Sharpedo King vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
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Seth




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FMW Superstar: Seth Rotunda
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 6:24 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino vs Callum Pullin

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
Back to top Go down
Abel Steele
Head Writer
Head Writer
Abel Steele


Posts : 986
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Age : 44
Location : Western Australia

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Abel Steele
Championship:

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 7:44 am



Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santana Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Sharpedo King vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
^
One of the rare times I'm voting on storyline. Both promos were epic though.
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Drake Parker
FMW Television Champion
FMW Television Champion



Posts : 679
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Age : 30
Location : The Dark Side

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Drake Parker
Championship:

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 8:34 am

[center]Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match

Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino vs Ryder

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match

Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
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Loins

Loins


Posts : 126
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Join date : 2011-02-16
Age : 33
Location : Stoke-on-Trent/ Northampton, England

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Daniel Prideman
Championship:

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 10:09 am

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Brooks vs Ryder

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
Back to top Go down
Ashburn




Posts : 169
Rep : 6
Join date : 2011-01-25
Age : 31

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 11:15 am

Hardcore Match
Seth Rotunda vs John Andrews vs Kuruk vs Blake Vendetta

Singles Match
Santina Braxton (w/ Sage Braxton) vs STORMMASTER

Through Hell and Back Match
Apostasy vs Son of Shark Boy vs Celt vs Matt Dunn vs Jeff Whitt (w/ Crusoe)

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong vs Callum Pullin

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino vs Paul Brooks

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels vs Nick Bryson
Back to top Go down
Storm183




Posts : 159
Rep : 0
Join date : 2010-04-12

Wrestler Profile
FMW Superstar: Storm
Championship:

Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread Empty
PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitimeMon Feb 13, 2012 6:14 pm

Corruption
Live from the Rose Garden in Portland, Oregon

Hardcore Match
Kuruk
No brainer...

Singles Match
STORMMASTER
SERIOUSLY I'M LOSING TO A GIRL? WHAT IN THE BLUE HELL DID I DO WRONG WITH THE PROMO??

Through Hell and Back Match
Son Of Shark Boy...or Sharpedo King.
Backing my stablemate but DAMN APOSTASY!!!

Anarchy

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Ryder Strong

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round One*
Bobino

Anarchy UV Title Tournament Round Two
Bobino
BOBINO has it in the bag!!!

Main Event
Drew Michaels' Last Match
Drew Michaels
Damn...
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PostSubject: Re: Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread   Corruption and Anarchy 15.3 VOTING AND PROMO thread I_icon_minitime

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