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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:33:21 GMT -5
♫What makes a man is the power in his hands! His quest for glorryyyyyyyyy!♫
YOU THINK WE'RE STARTING THE SHOW OFF WITH THE SAME OLD **** ASS BITCH ASS STUPID ASS OPENING THAT WE ALWAYS START WITH? BECAUSE GUESS AGAIN, BITCH!! The most manly theme music in the entire universe plays as women in the arena begin to have uncontrollable orgasms, including your girlfriend and definitely the whore that is your mother.
The arena begins to shake as an incredible indescribable yet incredibly manly force emanates through the arena. All of a sudden A GIANT HOLE BUSTS THROUGH THE ARENA CEILING LEAVING A GAPING HOLE ALMOST AS BIG AS YOUR MOM'S VAGINA AFTER STAN MCMANN IS FINISHED WITH HIM. In the midst of the hole is none other than Stan McMann, the manliest manly man who spells his last name with two n's because it is much more manly that way riding his trusty steed Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck, whose anus rockets are at full blast as the two float in the air. Daniel Knight: What is going on? And why is our format changing
Alecia Matthews: Ahh...ahhh...ahhh...ahhhh..AHHHHHHHHHHHH
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck's anal rockets propel the manliest manly man to ever man, man to the center of the ring where a tree has grown for no reason other than to be cut down by Stan McMann. McMann takes a knife from his trusty manly tool belt and begins to carve. A sizable puddle begins to form on the arena floor as the juices from all of the women's orgasms begins to soak through their womanly dresses and skirts and whatever the else women wear and onto the concrete below.
Even the men are slightly aroused.
McMann finishes his handy work, having just carved a fantastically manly, full functional ROCKET LAUNCHER from a tree alone. McMann the SHOOTS A ROCKET STRAIGHT THROUGH THE VAGINA HOLE IN THE ARENA CEILING, KILLING A FLOCK OF RARE BIRDS KNOWN AS GOLDEN TOUCANS THAT EXIST ONLY FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS SENTENCE, MAKING THEM GO EXTINCT. At least 43 women are pregnant at this point.
His handy work complete, Stan McMann sets his throws the tree rocket launcher in the air with such manly force that it ING EXPLODES IN THE AIR. A ring attendant tries to bring a microphone to the ring for the newly returned McMann, but receives a BITCH SLAP for his troubles (gotta keep the pimp hand strong). Microphones are for women and non-manly men who don't have manly voices with tones of mahogany and birch and whatever other kind of woods voice tones have. Because Stan McMann's voice is so manly it has tones of wood in it. And meat.
Stan McMann: Man, what a party. It's been a while.
The women orgasm and the men are jealous. OBVIOUSLY THEY'VE NEVER SEEN SUCH A MANLY SIGHT AS STAN MCMANN AND HIS GLORIOUS, BUSHY, FULL, MOIST, FLAWLESS, PERFECT, AMAZING, INCREDIBLE, BODACIOUS, INDESCRIBABLE, DESCRIBABLE, BOUNDLESS, IMMEASURABLE, GROOVY, AND STILL MOIST MUSTACHE.
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: THOU DOST NOT DISAPPOINT, STAN MCMANN THE MANLIEST MANLY MAN. BUT OUR DEBAUCHERY FOR THE LAST HOWEVER LONG WE HAST BEEN GONE IS NOT OF IMPORTANCE. WE HAST A TASK AT HANDETH. THERE IS A BIG GIANT CLOTPOLE THAT NEEDETH TAKING CARE OF, IN THE MANLIEST OF FASHIONS.
Stan McMann: You mean the moron not manly man walking around thinking he's a bug?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: AYE, DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Mr. Matthew Tobin?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Mr. Mathias Tobacco?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Mrs. Maternal Tuberculosis?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Col. Masterfully Transgender?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Ms. Meatinmy Tinybutthole?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: Locust Bobsled PHD?
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: DR. MANTIS TOBOGGAN.
Stan McMann: I don't care that much...he's an idiot.
Huck the Bearded Thirty Six Point Buck: WE SHOULD STITCH HIS crap UP. HE IS A SPLEENY MOTLEY-MINDED DEWBERRY WHO WILL FEEL THE MANNLYNESS OF STAN MCMANN AT SUPERBRAWL, IF HE IS MANNLY ENOUGH TO ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE.
Stan McMann: Okay.
Stan McMann the manliest manly man boards his steed as anus fires begin to shoot from the manly anus of Huck the Bearded Thirty Seven Point Buck. The epitome of manliness shoots straight into the sky as the women in the room finally get some reprieve from their constant orgasms.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:34:16 GMT -5
Note: The opening segment was not sponsored by the WFWF, and most definitely does not represent any of our thoughts or opinions. If we’re being completely honest we’re not even sure who let Stan McMann in the building, or even how any of that stuff happened. Like seriously, what the hell.Stuff happens. What? We’re not going to try and top that pre-opening opening. It literally defied the laws of physics. What’s the point?
“War Pigs” by Black Sabbath hits. The arena is dark, almost pitch black, but Vass can still be seen. As Vass enters the arena, he takes a look around and takes in his surroundings. He slowly walks to the stage, then stops in place. His head is down, and he's clutching his wrist.Christa Adina: The following match is scheduled for one fall. First, from Calgary, Alberta Canada…he is Vass “The Slayer!” Once the music drops he shakes his head and punches the air (like a boxer sorta), tightens his gloves and begins to walk down to the ring (The lights get brighter here). The intensity is palpable, as this man is shrouded in mystery. He walks slowly, focused on the ring. He slides under the ropes and jumps up from a prone position. He punches the air a few more times and then climbs the turnbuckle and raises his arm.Alecia Matthews: Vass came from out of no where last show, coming out on top with a fantastic tag team victory with Quinteon Alexander against Wilbur Richardson and Mantis Toboggan. I can’t wait to see what he’s capable of here tonight. Behind the curtain, Wolf is pumping himself up for his match. Coming from around the corner walking on canes is Samael Ahriman. Wolf walks over to Sam and grabs ahold of his elbow.Trevor Wolf: How you holding up champ? Samael Ahriman: Hardly a champ. I lost that match. Trevor Wolf: Bullth*t, Sam. I may be new to the WFWF, but everyone saw you WON that match. Crowe's goons just interfered. People who weren't even in the title mach were the only ones standing tall. But if there's a bright side, Drakz isn't here tonight. So you're truly the last man standing; and I say you more than think you're owed a rematch. Samael Ahriman: Maybe. But that's not actually why I'm here tonight. Trevor Wolf: Oh? Samael Ahriman: I'm here for you. To make sure O'Deeves doesn't cause any more harm to you. Trevor Wolf: With respect, and I love the canes by the way, but I couldn't stop O'Deeves, and you just went through a war. Samael Ahriman: Trust me, Wolf. I know trust is a rare thing for you. But I can't accompany you to ringside. But I'll make sure what happened last week doesn't happen again. You do what I asked, regarding under the ring? Trevor Wolf: Yes. Samael Ahriman: Then get out there and fight, and we'll handle what we can if needed. Haven't seen him, but I know him. He's lurking. And I've got some choice words for him when he does show up. You may not like it. And I may owe you an apology later. Trevor Wolf: What? Samael Ahriman: Like I said, trust me. Wolf looks down at his feet then back at Sam.Trevor Wolf: Absolutely. Samael Ahriman: Thank you, Trevor. Now get out there and get your first win. Trevor walks to the Gorilla. "Edge of a Revolution" hits the PA system to a ravenous response from the fans. He walks onto the stage puts his head down, puts his arms behind him, then looks up, throws his hands forward and points towards the ring. He does this as a way to invite out anyone who is willing to join his fight for change even though his opponent is in the ring.Christa Adina: And his opponent, from None of Your Damn Business, he is Trevor Wolf! He then shrugs, gets a cocky smirk on his face because he sees he is still the only one thats not afraid to stand up to the boss, he then walks to the ring slides in jumps up and looks at his opponent as he backs into the corner and awaits the bell so he can fight.Alecia Matthews: Wolf is zero and a million right now, but every match he has taken his opponent to the limit, even the top two reigning champions Lucas Crowe and Drakz. He's gotta get a win eventually. But that shock stick had to take a bit out of Wolf. This should be an exciting match. DING DING DING!Wolf and Vass size each other up, circling the ring. Eventually the two tie up, Vass taking control quickly and delivering a string punch to Wolf's gut, dropping him to the mat. Vass hammers Wolf in the back and mounts his back and locks in a rear naked choke hold. Wolf pulls himself and Vass to his feet and powers into a corner to break the choke. Trevor turns around and starts driving kicks into the gut of Vas over and over until The Slayer falls to the lowest part of the corner. Wolf raises his arm in the air and spins it around; running to the other corner and taking up and leaping for a Bronco Buster, but Vass slides under the rope to the apron causing Wolf to crash and burn. Legs hooked to the bottom rope and laying back to the mat is Wolf, Vass gets to his feet and somersaults up and over the top rope, driving his back into the gut of Wolf. Vass pulls Wolf to the middle of the ring and goes for a cover.… 1 … … 2 … …Wolf kicks out at two, but he rolls to his back, holding his ribs.Daniel Knight: Man, O’Deeves really did do a job on Wolf at Black Hole Sun. Alecia Matthews: That was my biggest concern for Trevor coming into this match. Vass mounts Wolf again, wrapping his arms around the chest of Trevor and performing a modified gator roll, squeezing the ribs as right as he can on every turn. Pulling Wolf up, still locked around his chest, Vass hauls Trevor up for a release German Suplex but Wolf lands on his feet, dropkicking Vass’ upper back; causing Vass to fall into the second rope. Trevor runs and planchas over the top rope, driving his elbow into the top of the stuck Vass’ head, turning around and catching The Slayer with a Pele kick causing Vass to fall back into the ring. Holding his chest, Wolf gets to the apron, hops backwards onto the middle of the top rope and leaps off with a springboard corkscrew moonsault. Wolf is, however, unable to go for the cover as he rolls to the middle of the ring; his high risk maneuver causing even further damage to the chest.Alecia Matthews: Win or lose, no one can doubt Wolf’s spunk. The kid refuses to give up and will put his body on the line in order to gain the advantage. No one is able to say he doesn’t lack balls. Daniel Knight: Think Vass underestimated him? Alecia Matthews: Who knows? Wolf is the first to his feet, trying to figure out what to do next. He picks Vass up from the mat and goes for a punch but is hit with a hard strike to the chest. And another. And another. He shoves Wolf away and attempts a spinning backfist, but Wolf catches the arm, rolls under and uses his small frame to spin around Vass and get him into position for an inverted hurricanrana but ever savvy, Vass stops Wolf’s momentum and causes him to release his legs and fall right into a sidewalk slam. Cover.… 1 … … 2 … …Wolf barely gets his shoulder up. Vass smiles, patting Wolf on the cheek, getting the fight he wanted last week from Richardson but wasn’t able to achieve. He rises to his feet and backs to the corner, raising his arms in the air, signifying the end is near.Daniel Knight: Calgary Curb Stomp incoming! Indeed that is what Vass is setting up for. Once Trevor reaches his knees, Vass takes off and launches for the Calgary Curb Stomp but Trevor Wolf reverses it! As Vass’ boot is coming down, Wolf hops up, wraps The Slayer’s legs to his shoulders and slams him down hard with a pop up powerbomb! Cover!… 1 … … 2 … …Vass kicks out at two, Wolf rolling to the center of the ring, completely agitated.Alecia Matthews: Myself, and all of these fans thought Wolf had him; we all thought Wolf was picking up his first win with that. Daniel Knight: Alas, no dice. The match continues! Wolf wastes no time in following up. He lets out an animalistic howl, this is Wolf’s time to shine. He’s preparing for The Final Howl! Wolf pulls Vass to the center of the ring, brings up to his feet and kicks him in the gut, lowering Vass’s head to his knees and prepares for the finale when Vass grabs ahold of Wolf’s legs, causing a double leg takedown. Vass wraps his leg between Wolf’s, ties them up and turns Trev onto his stomach to lock in the Slayer Sharpshooter! Wolf is fighting and fighting, flailing; trying to get to the ropes. After a few moments of struggling, Vass keeps Wolf’s feed hooked tightly under one arm and bridges backwards, wrapping his other arm around the top of Wolf’s head and bending him like an accordion; putting the pressure from just Wolf’s legs to his severely damaged chest. Wolf lets out a scream of agony, and realizing he has no where else to go and no way out; Trevor taps.DING DING DING!Christa Adina: Here is your winner, Vass “The Slayer!” Vass releases the hold, allows the ref to raise his arm in victory and looks at Trevor, who is in clear pain but is trying to compose himself; crawling into the corner. He mouths “good match, thank you” to Wolf, who bows his head and “War Pigs” plays as Vass courteously exits the ring, slapping hands with a few of the fans before reaching the back.Alecia Matthews: Dammit Wolf! Seriously. I like Vass. Good guy, bright future. But Wolf CANNOT win a match. This is getting absurd. Daniel Knight: Yeah. Valiant effort yet again, but not the result Wolf was hoping for, obviously. The lights go out.Alecia Matthews: Oh god. No. No. Not again. The lights back on, Jon O’Deeves is standing in the middle of the ring, still donned in black and a fedora, his shock stick extended.Jon O’Deeves: Bad wolf. As O’Deeves makes his way towards Wolf, “Last Theatre” by Noisycell blasts through the PA system. The fans yet again erupt as Samael Ahriman, in his street clothes and canes comes out from behind the curtain. He leans to one cane and pulls a pic out from his belt.Samael Ahriman: Jon O’Deeves, what in the f*cking blue hell are you doing? O’Deeves now has a mic.Jon O’Deeves: Exactly as you asked of me, to teach Wolf a lesson. The crowd is stunned.Daniel Knight: Wait…Sam was behind the ambushes on his own protégé? I know he’s been a scumbag, but I thought he turned over a new leaf. Samael Ahriman: Bullsh*t, Jon. What I asked you to do was to help me help Trevor rise up. To fight back. To take my place when I leave after SuperBrawl. I asked you to give him the fight of his life. I asked that we get Jon O’Deeves versus Trevor Wolf at SuperBrawl in a barn burner. I asked for your assistance, not for assaults with shock sticks. I asked for you to teach him how to improve, not teach him one of your sick lessons. Jon O’Deeves: Is there really a difference? Samael Ahriman: YES. Look at me. I’m standing here right now, even with the help of canes. I’m still standing after Drakz and his goons cost me my rightful WFWF Championship. But for all intents and purposes, I’m standing on my own two feet. I wanted you to help me help Wolf to be able to achieve the same stability as you have. As I have. Jon O’Deeves: And you disapprove of my…teaching methods? Samael Ahriman: You’re no better than Drakz’s goons with your sneak attacks. That’s not teaching a lesson. That’s asking for an ass whooping. Perhaps I made a mistake asking you to help. Jon O’Deeves: Frankly, I don’t care. I’m under contract with the WFWF now. I want a match at SuperBrawl, and I want it with Trevor Wolf. You can’t take that back. Samael Ahriman: No, I can’t. But something tells me you’re about to get your answer to that match request in a moment. O’Deeves tilts his head, turning around and TREVOR WOLF HAS SAKABATO! Unsheathed, Wolf knocks the shock stick out of Jon’s hands and drives the hilt into O’Deeves gut. He tosses Sakabato down, pulls Jon’s head down and drops him with The Final Howl to a howling ovation from the crowd! Wolf picks up the mic and stands over O’Deeves.Samael Ahriman: So…I told you that if he showed up we had a backup plan, but you might not like what I have to say. So? Trevor Wolf: You had good intentions. If O’Deeves wants to play games and twist your attempt to help me, so be it… Wolf looks down at the former National Champion.Trevor Wolf: …because this Wolf is a hell of a lot more bite than bark, and O’Deeves; you’ll see that between the bells when we meet face to face at SuperBrawl. You’re on you Mafioso wannabe mother*cker. ”Edge of a Revolution” plays throughout the arena as Wolf raises his arms in the air, soaking in the praise from the fans, Samael applauding as best as he can from the stage.Daniel Knight: Well ain’t that something? Sam WAS doing the right thing. O’Deeves is just a f*cking loon. Alecia Matthews: And more importantly, ladies and gentlemen…the first match for SuperBrawl IX has officially been announced. Jon O’Deeves. Trevor Wolf. Dynamite versus Animal Instinct. This should be absolutely f*cking amazing.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:41:13 GMT -5
In Syndication
The parking lot of the WFWF Hall of Fame building fills the screen. Its asphalt is slick with rain & the ambient light from the parking lamps & neon sign of the HOF Marquee bounce off the glazed moisture beneath, creating a dark lake of luminescence. Jarringly, a car barrels through the parking lot at breakneck speed; A 1981 Delorean being driven with abandon. As it pulls to a halt, the camera pans in on the license plate:
‘OUTATIME’
The car growls its guttural growl in a display of idly threatening muscle. The driver has not yet taken his foot off the gas, but the vehicle is set in park.
The figure of man is shown occupying the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel’s metal skeleton encased in leather & polycarbonate stitching skin. Running his weathered fingers over the worn underside of the steering column’s collarbone, he begins to shift his right hand toward the ignition. He turns it off. His hand off the clutch now, he tosses the keys up and into his bubble vest’s breast pocket. The man sighs a low sigh before opening the door.
We are met with the frame of a man, but with no discernible detail. Barely 6 feet (if even), cloaked by a hoodie which covers the majority of his face, the lower half of it basking in shadow. A very laissez faire Conquistador-like goatee pokes out from the end of his chin. His teeth are tainted by the stain of accumulated dark spirits (rum, whisky, maybe schnapps) & the creases around his lips begin to migrate outward as his half-grinning teeth begin to speak.
History. Monuments. Nostalgia colored glasses. Romanticism…
“…it's high time the wrestlers start acting like wrestlers. Not celebrities, not angry hobos, not spot monkeys. This promotion's history, its legacy, its heroes, are s***. But they are the past. The future, is ours.” -Joe Bishop
History. That’s all I am to most of you…a faceless name on some hall of fame wall wiped of any meaning. A silly façade held in some vault with dust caking the corners of display cases exalting a dead tradition.
The man plods his heavy black boots to the back of the car, popping open the trunk. Reaching into the dark corners of it, he returns from the compartment with a Louisville Slugger, its handle wrapped in tape & the phrase ‘Now/Never’ engraved into the neck. Grinding the cloth of the medical-grade tape in his hands, he tosses the butt end of the bat over his shoulder & begins to saunter toward the Neon-lit marquee. Beginning to make his way up the front steps of the Hall of Fame building, the man starts churning his legs with purpose now…A mall-cop grade security guard is set before him with a metal detector, blocking the entrance. The shrouded man doesn’t say a word, just waves his hand at him dismissively before lifting the butt-end of the bat and bunting it into Paul Blartt’s unsuspecting face.
The guard hits the ground, a deluge of blood and cries pour out from him before he (presumptively) passes out from the pain.
The man continues his trek into the bowels of the building, glancing around him at the names enshrined as he strolls past them:
CBT… …Drakz… …Johnny ‘Movie Man’ Michaels… …Travis Hardison… …Raider… …Stuart… …Yukio Blaze.
The man chuckles while moving past the well-decorated displays all holding memorabilia, title belts & lists of accolades. Shirts pocked with blood, warped chairs & even some teeth??
They say I was Emperor in an era of petulant children. An impostor leading a flock of simple followers, all squabbling over props. A method actor in a hack production of valor…
Or even worse, they say nothing of me.
They called me a goofball. A joke. A punchline, a sideshow act, a silly kiddie-show dumbed down version of a hurricane.
I was all these things…
You may have been humbled, travelled the globe & come back home…
Patchworked the pieces of yourself you felt were lost when you wandered off a year ago…but I’m not moved by your pilgrimage…
I’ve travelled vast distances myself. The better part of a decade, through time, through pain, through great loss, through diagnosis & recovery…through crap I’d rather never have to address again…
Monuments.
The man passes what looks like a mausoleum, a marble display case holding (undoubtedly) the most decorated case of them all…
The idols you worshipped. Elevated. Held up, only to strap to a pyre & sacrifice when you grew tired of them. False gods & their prophecies. Legacies left to Flap in the breeze. Tombs & thrones Raided by revisionist history. I am almost non-existent here.
Am I dead to you? A relic mishandled by time, a phantasm?? Comic book heroes faded from technicolor nylon & cheesy taglines. A rerun forever straddling the limbo of syndicated programming. Saturday morning fodder.
Nostalgia-colored Glasses
The man stops before he reaches ‘Travis Hardison’ in the gallery. A mural with his face on it and the subtitle ‘The $hit’ beneath it. The creases occupying his cheeks grow even wider—almost a Chelsea grin as he giddily takes the nape of the bat’s neck and raises it over his head like a sledgehammer…
He strikes it down once-
Uh-1! uh 2-whoo! A 3— *crack* A 3!
That’s how many licks it takes to get to the center of a $hitsy roll pop…
Lowering the bat, he has made glass confetti shards of each translucent display. His chin convulses in laughter.
You know something, my very first memory in life was watching Adam West punch a shark in the head 75 feet above the Atlantic Ocean dangling off a wire ladder suspended from a helicopter.
A 1966 acid-dripping daydream of absurd heroism. A man in a mask & cape fighting nature with a spray-can.
That’s who I was much of my run, most of my time here. A fixture. A fighter. A happy face. A good guy. A caricature. A vibrant BAM! POW! THWAP! In a world full of subtle whispers & grand monologues…yet somehow I got all the attention, adulation and yet…none of the immortality…but all of that is an old tale. A piece of fiction. Some dumb myth told by an idiot, full of sound & fury, signifying nothing.
What do I have to show for endless trips into a past made to look like a joke? It didn’t help me when I went away. When they told me I had 8 months to live. When I defied those odds. When I pulled through with some help, albeit…different.
What do you have to show for all your scars? Your tissue & viscera flags waving like moral victories? Your…monuments.
The man saunters upon the section that reads ‘Raider’ & gasps.
Oooh, a true hero approaches!
The man takes the bat relentlessly to the marble bust of ‘RaiderMan’, smashing his head to stone crumbs.
Monuments made by man are always false.
How on Earth could they ever know how to paint a God? What faces they shaped, what immortal forms they gave super men as ordinary citizens wielded their ill-informed weapons of superiority?
Where were you, Bishop? Where perhaps you saw celebs & hobos & head cases & spot monkeys—I saw a mythology. Something man-made, not entirely true but not that far off. I was a god once, too… also a child.
But who in any god’s name are you? We haven’t fought the same wars. I never cared much for the sandbox. The desert was always out there, waiting. So, when I left—that’s what I had to trek through to get back here. It’s where you are right now yourself, but you’re not alone.
You’ve been deserted before. A man in a land of blind boys spouting prophecies.
“GREAT SCOTT, FUTCHY! WE’VE GOT TO GO BA-”
The man drums his fisted hand repeatedly against his face, shaking the secondary voice from his throat in a percussive metronome.
Jesus, thought I’d rid myself of that crap.
“You know, you never outrun your past…or avoid how it shapes today... What if I told you—”
Nope! I’m done. I am. I’m done with trips down memory lanes & glory roads leading nowhere…
None of you may know much of me…but you will…because I believe there is no past worth revisiting, we can only be what we are today. And I am prepared for that…to move into… Today is an important day. One I want you to remember.
Joe Bishop, I suggest you take your own advice…fix up, look sharp, tighten the technique on your wristlock & practice your craft of kneeling. Nothing before this day matters. The past is ashes. This night is one you should relish because your return will be short-lived.
As far as I see it, you don’t have much time left…& your end is a kamikaze, barreling nearer.
The man takes his ‘Now/Never’ bat and readies it beside him as he trots up to the one last display he has set before him… He peers over the cape, black—trimmed with deep violet, the letter ‘F’ inside its insignia. A mask made of leather & elastic. Tights, weathered & torn.
Romanticism
These days, history’s written by mewling cowards in computer chairs…and that history is no more accurate or consequential than that which goes on within a campy 60’s TV show…
So while some of you might see my antics as childish buffoonery, the lot of you will come to see that what I am about is much grander than you can imagine. Much greater than watching men do heroic work... It’s about taking the shark by the throat & ripping its jaw from the hinges. It’s standing in the way of the Zeitgeist, clutching it in your gloved hands & grinding it to a fine powder… then sniffing it for the high from that power.
He reads the placard on the display before him: ‘The Future’
Heh. Nostalgia. Romantic gestures… The capes. The masks. A child perpetually playing dress-up.
The man begins gleefully swinging, haphazardly at first, then with purpose. Each frame of each display bends & the glass shattering creates a theme song which crescendos when he hits the final case…the mask.
These flashy jabs of color…The catchy catchphrases…None of it quite makes a monument. Because they’re not dead…
Relics never last & shrines aren’t made to stand for all time. Speaking of time… Heroes aren’t technically heroes unless they’re saving someone…right?
The man slowly approaches the mask, shooing away tiny mineral diamonds which have settled around & inside it. He pulls the hood back from his face, a horribly familiar one, & affixes the mask over his nose & orbital sockets, attaching the Velcro in the back so that it firmly hugs his occipital bone.
The Future walks over to a spotlight in the corner of the room…it is unplugged. He reconnects the teeth of the wire into the socket & the machinery kicks into action… The spotlight begins screaming out of the window—a bright beacon shining into a grimdark sky.
I have returned…To save you all… But mainly you…Joe… See, the future isn’t yours, Bishop. It belongs to no man…Not even me… Because it IS me.
So stand back, Because the Future … is coming… home.
At the close of the word ‘home’, a clap of Thunder & tear of lightning split the sky & the camera is thrown off center, shakily tilting upward. When it re-focuses, Future is nowhere to be found, leaving only glass splinters & stone shrapnel behind. In the parking lot, where the Delorean once was, lay only dry tiremarks.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:42:03 GMT -5
Daniel Knight: Up next is a tag match between two teams that raise a lot of questions.
Alecia Matthews: That’s right Daniel. Mantis Toboggan and Wilbur Richardson lost at Black Hole Sun in a tag match against Vass the Slayer and Quenton Alexander. They didn’t work well together as a team and it showed. Will they improve their teamwork and do better tonight?
Daniel Knight: Also at Black Hole Sun, Frank Lynn beat Mike Jette in a bloody street fight that turned a lot of heads here in the WFWF. Apparently beating the hell out of each other led to them developing a bond so they joined together as the Thunderbirds. Now they’re looking to bring their high flying, hard hitting style to the tag team division here in the WFWF.
Alecia Matthews: It’s going to be an interesting match that comes down to which team works together better. Let’s go to the ring for Christa and the introductions.
Christa Adina: The following contest is a tag team match to one fall. Introducing the teams.
The oddly soothing strings of “Temptation Sensation” emanate from the speakers accompanied by a cacophony of clucking as a parade of chickens appear on the entrance stage. The strange mix of sounds is joined by braying and high pitched giggling as several hookers riding donkeys follow the chickens down the ramp. At last, a short rotund man in a lab coat appears. The mad Doctor Mantis Toboggan has arrived!
Christa Adina: Hailing from Philadelphia, Pa, standing 5’ and weighing 195 lbs… Dr. Mantis Toboggan!
It is somewhat alarming when the big burly Wilbur Richardson walks out from backstage with no music, no pomp and circumstance at all…just a large angry man who looks like he walked in off the street, took off his shirt, and made his way to the ring looking for a fight. Wilbur shows no concern for the chickens still wandering around actually kicking one or two out of his way. He purposely steps in a pile of donkey sh*t on his way to the ring instead of avoiding it.
Christa Adina: His partner, from who knows where, at 6’ 1” and 265 lbs… Wilbur Richardson!
The sounds of explosions and planes taking off fills the arena followed by the song "Fire Away”. Mike Jette steps onto the ramp. Diagonal pyro forms an X shape that Jette runs under on his way to the ring. He runs all the way down to the ring high-fiving the fans on his way. He enters the ring by jumping over the ropes and then jumps on the turnbuckle to more pyro and a loud BOOM in his music.
The lights dim. The first guitar screams of "21st Century Schizoid Man" blast out over the arena. A white silhouette of a B-52 bomber flies over the giant screens above the entrance stage. A figure jumps out of the plane. When the figure hits the bottom of the screen, it explodes and "FRANK LYNN" forms on the screen in huge block letters. Frank Lynn appears on the stage under his name, head down and arms crossed. Frank lifts his head up with a wild look in his eyes, spreads his arms out, screams out “Thunderbirds are go!”, and does a back flip landing one one knee like a runner's starting position. Frank runs down the ramp and jumps on the ring apron. Then he does a springboard front flip to land in the center of the ring with his arms spread out.
Christa Adina: And their opponents… at a combined weight of 470 lbs., Mike “the Fireman” Jette and “Fearless” Frank Lynn…the Thunderbirds!
Frank Lynn goes over to Mike Jette and they exchange high fives. Frank Lynn has added yellow flames to his red and white tights so that he matches Jette’s attire. They turn towards their opponents and point at them. Simultaneously, they shout “Let’s get it on!” They go back to their corner and do rock-paper-scissors. Frank wins so he gets to start the match. Standing opposite him is the big brawler Wilbur Richardson.
Alecia Matthews: Finally, the introductions are done and our event staff is rushing to clear out Toboggan’s menagerie. It’s time to fight!
Daniel Knight: Indeed, it is. Looks like Frank Lynn and Wilbur Richardson will be starting the action.
The referee signals for the bell…DING DING DING!
Frank goes for a collar & elbow tie up but Richardson kicks him in the face with his boot that is still covered in donkey sh*t. The kick alone is enough to stun Frank but worse are the brown chunks left clinging to his face. He doubles over on his knees and starts to cough.
Daniel Knight: Oh my god! I don’t know if that was planned but it was very effective.
Alecia Matthews: I’m guessing that was planned by Wilbur. He’s showing that he is a real sh*tkicker.
Daniel Knight: You did not just say that…
Richardson moves in deliberately and hits a big punt kick to Frank’s midsection lifting him a foot into the air before he comes crashing back down. Frank crawls to the corner while fighting the urge to vomit but Richardson follows him in and stomps a mudhole in his chest.
Daniel Knight: Wilbur is starting this match like a man on a mission.
Alecia Matthews: He may be trying to end this quickly without ever having to tag his partner.
Wilbur lifts the limp body of Frank Lynn to a standing position and sets him up for the Final Drag. Frank accidentally avoids it because he doubled over yet again almost puking on Wilbur’s boots. Frank tries to get to his corner to tag in Mike Jette. Wilbur pursues Frank, but Frank stays one step ahead despite staggering, falling, and crawling to his corner to make the tag.
Daniel Knight: Lynn gets lucky and makes a tag to his partner. Jette needs to buy him some time to recover.
Alecia Matthews: More like buy him some time to find some toilet paper. Add that to the list of things I never thought I would say while calling a match.
Mike leaps over the top rope and hits a sweet dropkick to Richardson’s face, causing him to stumble backwards to the center of the ring. Jette closes in and attacks Wilbur with punches and kicks but the big man stays on his feet. Jette circles behind Wilbur and grabs him around the waist. The Fireman struggles at first, but with a grimace of max effort he gets the big man up for a deadlift german suplex. Mike drags a stunned Wilbur towards his corner and tries to tag Lynn but he isn’t there.
Daniel Knight: Where is Lynn? Is he on the floor puking?
Alecia Matthews: Open your eyes Daniel. Frank is coming over here.
Frank Lynn heads to the announcer’s table where he grabs Daniel Knight’s water and douses his head and hands. Then he uses Knight’s tie to wipe the last of the donkey sh*t off his face. Frank hurries back to his corner but it is too late.
Daniel Knight: That son of a bitch! Look at my tie? This is ridiculous. Somebody get me a fresh bottle of water!
Alecia Matthews: I don’t need to look at your tie, I can smell it from here. Stop complaining and call the match. Wilbur has turned the tables on Jette.
Daniel Knight: You call the match…I’ve got donkey sh*t on my tie.
Wilbur used Jette’s confusion over the missed tag to land several haymakers to the back of Jette’s head. Wilbur spins Jette around and starts to whip him across the ring before landing a short arm clothesline…FINAL DRAG!!! Wilbur drags the Fireman to his corner and tags in the demented Doctor Toboggan.
Alecia Matthews: That was a devastating Final Drag. Wilbur looks really good right now. Don’t you think so Daniel? Daniel? Stop pouting and say something.
Daniel Knight leaves the announcer’s table to throw his tie into the timekeeper’s area which earns him several dirty looks from Christa and the other staff sitting there. One of the staffers carefully picks up the tie and runs it backstage to be properly disposed of.
Daniel Knight: That’s better. Donkey sh*t…this place really is a circus. Where’s my water?!?
Alecia Matthews: Okay, I’ll do both of our jobs. Richardson tags in Toboggan. Toboggan is climbing the ropes while Richardson holds down Jette.
Mantis slowly climbs to the second rope and jumps down on Jette with a double foot stomp. Mantis and Toboggan deliver stomps to Jette’s head and chest while the ref counts, stopping only as the ref is just about to say “five”. Mantis picks up Jette and whips him across the ring. Jette bounces off the ropes and Toboggan leaped an astounding six inches off the mat to hit a head butt to Jette’s family jewels.
Alecia Matthews: Vicious low blow by Mantis but the referee saw it all. I guess he doesn’t care about a DQ. I wonder how that makes his partner feel?
Daniel Knight: Hell if I know or care, Alecia. (mumbles something about donkey reproductive organs but someone in production is smart enough to turn his mic off)
The referee steps between the two wrestlers and issues a warning to the Doctor. Mike uses the moment to leap towards his corner where he tags in a ready and waiting Frank Lynn. Frank jumps onto the top rope and springboards across the ring to hit Toboggan with the SPAZ ATTACK. The flurry of ground and pound elbow smashes have Mantis in bad shape.
Alecia Matthews: Hot tag to Frank Lynn and he is on fire. Lynn is bouncing Mantis’ head off the mat like a basketball.
Daniel Knight: Yay for Frank Lynn. I hope Wilbur kicks him in the face again.
Frank drags Mantis to his corner and tags in Jette. Franks hits a backbreaker to Mantis and holds him over his knee. Jette leaps over the tope rope and hits a leg drop on Mantis. He lifts Mantis onto the top turnbuckle, then climbs up himself to hit an overhead belly to belly superplex. The strange doctor is in serious trouble but he can’t get away as Jette tags Lynn back in.
Alecia Matthews: Frequent tags by the Thunderbirds as they isolate the Doctor in their corner. We’re finally starting to see some sound tag team strategy by one of these two teams.
Lynn whips Mantis into the ropes and hits a spinning heel kick to his forehead. Lynn whips Mantis into the ropes again and tries to hit a sling blade but Mantis is so short that Frank just flies over top of him completely missing the move. Frank pounds the mat in frustration.
Mantis scurries out of the ring and runs as fast as his stubby legs can go. Lynn chases him. They run around the outside of the ring past Wilbur Richardson, who looks at the doctor with contempt and does nothing.
Alecia Matthews: Look at the round man run. Who knew he was so fast?
Daniel Knight: Come on, Wilbur, why didn’t you knock Lynn out when you had the chance?
Alecia Matthews: Can you try to be professional and call the match?
The chase continues until Mantis approaches Mike Jette. Jette isn’t getting head butted in the junk a second time so he leapfrogs Mantis who goes headfirst into the ring steps. The referee is screaming for everyone to get back into the ring and starts a ten count. Lynn and Jette happily comply, lifting the motionless form of Toboggan into the ring.
Alecia Matthews: Big mistake by the little man. He must be seeing chickens circling around his head after hitting the ring steps.
Lynn tags Jette, then lifts Toboggan onto his shoulders and turns to face his corner. Jette flies off the top rope hitting the DOOMSDAY DEVICE!!! Jette goes for the cover but Richardson breaks it up.
Alecia Matthews: Doomsday device! A real blast from the past. But no chance for a pin with Wilbur rested and ready to stop the cover.
Daniel Knight: Way to go Wilbur. Now beat the hell out of Frank Lynn!
Lynn joins Jette in the ring and they hit a double super kick to Wilbur sending the big man stumbling back through the ropes and to the floor.
Alecia Matthews: SUPERKICKS! That will make Wilbur think twice about interfering.
Daniel Knight: Let’s go Wilbur, shake it off and get back in there! Do it for your partner, for the win, and for my tie!
The Thunderbirds turn their attention back to the Doctor. Jette tags Lynn and then lifts Toboggan up for an airplane spin. As Jette goes to slam Mantis onto the mat, Lynn flies high off the top turnbuckle and executes beautiful five star frogsplash onto Mantis. THUNDERBOMB!!!
Alecia Matthews: THUNDERBOMB! What a beautiful tag team move. Did you see how Frank turned in mid-air? What an acrobatic display.
Daniel Knight: Good for Frank Lynn. Is Wilbur moving yet?
Frank Lynn goes for the cover of Mantis. Richardson is moving again, much to Daniel Knight’s delight and he tries to break up the cover. Jette stops him with a drop toe hold into the Plane Pain submission!
Alecia Matthews: Great defensive move by Jette. He’s got that submission locked in tight and there is no way Wilbur can stop the count.
1…
2…
3!
The Thunderbirds win!!!
Christa Adina: The winners of the match: Mike “the Fireman” Jette and “Fearless” Frank Lynn…The THUNDERBIRDS!
Frank Lynn and Mike Jette celebrate their win, standing on either side of the referee as he raises their hands and Christa makes the announcement.
Alecia Matthews: Admit it Daniel. The Thunderbirds looked good out there overcoming all the dirty tricks Mantis and Toboggan threw at them.
Daniel Knight: I admit nothing. They won. Big deal. Mantis is a freak and obviously he is holding Richardson back. Wilbur was the real star of the match. Just one more kick to the Lynn’s face and we would have seen a completely different outcome.
Alecia Matthews: Bitter much? It was a lousy $5 K-Mart tie. Get over it. Oh, it looks like the Thunderbirds have something to say.
Back in the ring, Mike and Frank grabbed a couple of microphones and are catching their breath so they can talk to the fans.
Mike Jette: Hello Indianapolis!!!
Mike doesn’t have to wait long for the expected cheap pop.
Mike Jette: The last time you saw us, we tore the house down at Black Hole Sun. I may not like it, but I have to admit that on that night the better man won and it was Frank Lynn.
Mike smiles at Frank and slaps him on the back. Frank takes a bow for the crowd.
Frank Lynn: It was a brutal match and Mike could have had his hand raised in victory instead of me. It was that close. Thats why I’d have to be a very stupid man to want to fight against Mike again. It would be much smarter to have him on my side.
Now its Frank’s turn to slap Mike on the back while Mike takes a bow.
Mike Jette: You’re not stupid and neither am I. I know a good thing when I see it. That’s why we are now the THUNDERBIRDS! A real tag team formed out of the respect two men gain for each other when they become brothers in blood. We will be the best damn tag team in the WFWF!
Frank Lynn: The best?
Mike Jette: You heard me. The best! We are two sides of the same coin. We fight the same style with the same heart, the same desire, and the same goals. The two of us together are a REAL team destined to be REAL champions! We will be the best tag team ever!
Frank joins the fans in applauding Mike’s short speech.
Frank Lynn: That is something our esteemed tag team champions can’t claim to be. Drakz and Joshua Dean can’t stand to be in the same room together much less in the same ring as partners. Alone each one is a very dangerous opponent. Alone each one is strong. Together they have no chemistry, no teamwork. Together they are weak. They are ripe to be picked apart by the two of us.
The fans aren’t sure whether to cheer or boo the mention of Drakz and Dean so they do a little of each. They are sure that they like this new tag team. The cheers soon drown out the boos.
Mike Jette: Oh so ripe. Their belts are a brass ring we will grab with both hands. The Thunderbirds will be champions!
Frank and Mike get the crowd going in a chant of “ Thunderbirds! Thunderbirds! Thunderbirds!” Everyone thinks they are done and Mike Jette starts to exit the ring.
Frank Lynn: Hold on Mike, where do you think you are going?
Mike Jette: You mean there’s more?
Frank Lynn: Hell yes there’s more. There are rules to wrestling no matter how often they end up being ignored in the WFWF.
Mike Jette: Too true.
Frank Lynn: I have a surprise for you and all these fans.
Mike Jette: Oh? I love surprises.
Frank Lynn: Drakz and Dean haven’t followed the rules. They haven’t defended their belts in a while. In fact it has been so long that they could be stripped of those their title belts.
Mike Jette: That sounds bad for them… and good for us!
Frank Lynn: You know it. I had a little talk with some people backstage earlier today and guess what?
Mike Jette: I have no idea. The suspense is killing me. What is it? Tell me now!
Frank Lynn: I got us a title match with Drakz and Dean.
Both Mike Jette and the crowd are shocked. Two brash rookies getting a title shot this quick? It is unheard of.
Frank Lynn: Right here in Indianapolis!
The crowd responds with the obligatory cheap pop for the hometown reference.
Frank Lynn: And it is happening right now!
Mike jumps up and down with excitement. Ever see a teenage girl find out she has backstage passes for a Justin Bieber concert? That’s Mike Jette at this moment. The crowd erupts in a frenzy! They love that they will get to see an impromptu title match. The cheers become yet another chant of “Thunderbirds!” Give the people what they want and they will cheer for you and chant your name.
Mike Jette: Right now!?!? Let’s do it! Thunderbirds are go!
Frank Lynn: Damn right! Thunderbirds are go!
They signal to Christa to announce the match. She isn’t sure if she should but the enthusiastic crowd gets her to play along.
Christa Adina: Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we are about to have a tag team match for the WFWF world tag team titles. Already in the ring, the challengers: Mike “the Fireman” Jette and “Fearless” Frank Lynn…the THUNDERBIRDS!”
Alecia Matthews: Holy crap! What a coup for the rookies. I can’t believe it. We’re getting a tag title match right now.
Daniel Knight: Please don’t mention crap. I am excited to see these two get a shot at Drakz and Joshua Dean. Hopefully a very short and extremely painful shot.
The crowd chants “Thunderbirds!” a few times before the lights dim. They are on the edge of their seats awaiting the entrance of the tag champs. Unfamiliar generic heavy metal music blares from the sound system. The giant screen above the stage remains black. The crowd gets quiet as this isn’t Drakz or Dean’s usual entrance.
Daniel Knight: Something fishy is going on.
Alecia Matthews: Relax and roll with it. This is going to be fun.
Out come two out of shape jobbers dressed as Drakz and Joshua Dean carrying replica toy tag title belts. The jobbers make their way down the ramp, yelling at each other in high pitched whiny voices and stopping every so often to slap fight with each other. A stunned Christa Adina isn’t sure what to do, but Frank and Mike implore her to keep going.
Christa Adina: And now entering the ring, the current, reigning WFWF world tag team champions: Drakz and Joshua Dean!
The crowd boos the jobbers mercilessly. They continue their infantile arguing and slap fighting with each other.
Daniel Knight: I knew it. You can’t trust Frank Lynn. He’s scum.
Alecia Matthews: Something certainly is wrong. Drakz and Dean look horrible. They really took some punishment in their cage matches at Black Hole Sun. I think the Thunderbirds have a real chance to take the titles.
Daniel Knight: Are you high?
Frank signals for the time keeper to ring the bell. The timekeeper shrugs and does it.
DING DING DING!
Alecia Matthews: And here we go. The Thunderbirds have a chance to score a major upset and take the tag titles from the champs. I’m stunned at the toll their cage matches had on them. It’s like they’re two completely different wrestlers.
Daniel Knight: Really Alecia, are you high?
The Thunderbirds jump into action quickly, grabbing the jobbers and whipping them into the ropes. Mike and Frank hit picture perfect simultaneous drop kicks to the “champs”. Jette lifts “Dean” onto his shoulders for an airplane spin. As he slams him to the mat, Frank comes flying off the top turnbuckle with a frog splash. THUNDER BOMB!!! Frank picks up “Dean” and tosses him over the top rope.
Alecia Matthews: Awesome opening to this match. Joshua Dean is down and out. Its up to Drakz to carry the champs to victory or they lose their titles.
Daniel Knight: Is it weed? Coke? Meth? What the hell are you on right now?
Frank turns his attention to “Drakz” lifting him up for a german suplex. Jette positions himself so that he can catch “Drakz” by the neck as he is tossed back for neckbreaker/suplex combo.
Alecia Matthews: Great teamwork by the up and coming Thunderbirds. They said teamwork would be the difference and it is.
Daniel Knight: Acid? Shrooms?
Frank signals for Mike to climb the turnbuckles while he lifts “Drakz” up on his shoulders. He turns towards the turnbuckle. Mike and Frank shout out “THUNDERBIRDS!” before he leaps high into the air and hits a DOOMSDAY DEVICE to “Drakz”. Jette goes for a cover. Frank Lynn starts the count.
Alecia Matthews: This is it Daniel. We could be seeing history right here. Go for it Thunderbirds! Stake your claim to greatness!
Daniel Knight: It’s gotta be crack, right?
1…
2…
3!
Thunderbirds win!!! The crowd goes wild! Frank looks over to Christa and asks her to make the announcement. The crowd is egging her on so she grabs her mic.
Christa Adina: Ladies and gentlemen! Your winners and NEW WFWF World Tag Team Champions: the Thunderbirds!
The crowd explodes in cheers and laughter. The defeated “champs” make their way up the ramp, each one whining that it was others’ fault and slap fighting the entire way backstage.
Alecia Matthews: New WFWF tag team champions! Isn’t it great Daniel? Way to go Thunderbirds.
Daniel Knight: I don’t believe this is happening. I must have been knocked out by the smell of donkey sh*t and this is all a nightmare.
Alecia Matthews: Try to do your job. This is a great moment in WFWF history and we are here to witness it. Frank Lynn and Mike Jette have shocked the world!
Pyro shoots off on the entrance stage and all around the arena. Queen’s “We Are The Champions” plays over the sound system. Gold confetti rains down from the rafters. Frank and Mike grab the toy belts and hold them high while they hug each other and cry fake crocodile tears of joy. They run around the ring with huge smiles slapping their chests while shouting “We did it!” and “We are the champs!” They climb the turnbuckles and hold the toy tag belts high for all to see. Then they exit the ring to run around exchanging high fives with the fans at ringside. They stop in front of a few extremely excited kids and pose for selfies with their new championship belts. It is an over the top, epic celebration signaling a new era in the WFWF tag team division.
Daniel Knight is livid. He can’t believe the Thunderbirds are wasting our time with their hijinks. He stands up and shouts derogatory comments at the Thunderbirds (again, one of the producers backstage had the presence of mind to turn off his mic). Frank and Mike hear him and approach the announcers table.
Frank Lynn: Do you have a problem Daniel? Does this offend you somehow?
Mike Jette: We are your new tag team champions! Show us some respect!
Daniel Knight: You aren’t the champions. You didn’t beat Drakz and Dean. You beat two shmucks who don’t belong in a WFWF ring. There wasn’t even a referee in the ring. It was a sham. Those aren’t even real belts…they’re toys you can buy at the merchandise stand for $25. Also available at the WFWF online store. Tonight only get 20% off if you use the code “FrankLynnSucks”.
The fans do not appreciate Daniel Knight’s tirade and start a very loud chant of “Shut the f*ck up!”
Mike Jette: Oh, so we do offend you? You don’t think we are real champs? We’d invite you into the ring for a match to prove we are but we’ve already had TWO matches tonight.
Frank Lynn: You can bitch all you want Daniel. We don’t care what you think. We are the uncrowned WFWF world tag team champions. Deal with it.
Mike Jette: Your opinion doesn’t matter anyway. Drakz and Joshua Dean are the ones who matter.
Frank Lynn: You know it. If this offends Drakz and Joshua Dean then let them do something about it. At Exodus they can bring their belts to the ring. We’ll bring our belts to the ring. And we can fight it out to see who the real tag champs are!
Mike Jette: Come on champs! Come to Exodus and just try to take OUR belts away from US!
Frank and Mike climb on top of the announcer’s table and hold up their belts leading the crowd in one more “Thunderbirds!” chant as another wave of confetti rains down on the fans.
Alecia Matthews: Great job calling that match Daniel. Can you pull yourself together and get on with the rest of the show or do I have to call Cam?
Daniel Knight: Were you sniffing glue? Vodka in the water bottle? Too many nicotine patches?
Just as The Thunderbirds look to exit the ring, "In the City" by Kevin Rudolf hits. The crowd rises in an uproar as Josh Dean makes his way out to the stage, Tag Title belt draped over his shoulder.
Daniel Knight: There's the real Josh Dean, and he looks disgusted by this display!
The wounds on his forehead from his battles with Trace Demon are freshly bandaged up, and The Franchise doesn't seem to be in the greatest of moods. He holds his hand up to stop the music before bringing the mic up.
Josh Dean: Well, this is cute.
The crowd breaks out in a collective laugh as The Thunderbirds look proud of their actions.
Josh Dean: I'm glad to see you boys got a sense of humor.
He holds up a finger and walks back behind the curtain, only to re-emerge moments later with a barbwire baseball bat! SH*T JUST GOT REAL! The Indianapolis crowd is coming unglued!
Josh Dean: So do I.
The collective grin on The Thunderbirds dissipates as Josh points the bat toward the ring. His smile increases as he starts walking toward the ring.
Daniel Knight: This could be bad!
Josh takes his time walking down to the ring. He raises the mic up to mouth.
Josh Dean: Indy, I got a question that needs answered. How quickly will these two b*tches scatter once I get in the ring and start swinging my Slugger around?
The crowd reaches a fever pitch as Josh strolls around the ringside area. He sits the bat on the apron and climbs onto the apron, exchanging his Tag Title belt for the bat. Jette and Frank Lynn have the ring cut off, with Frank patting his "Tag Title" belt.
Daniel Knight: I'm surprised The Thunderbirds are still in the ring. I think they're calling Josh's bluff.
Alecia Matthews: Well it is 2 on 1, not that Drakz would help even if he were here.
Josh smiles as he climbs confidently into the ring. The Thunderbirds close in.
Josh Dean: Let's find out!
Josh tosses the mic down and immediately swings the bat toward both members of the Thunderbirds, who evade and slide out of the ring. The crowd boos their stall tactic. Josh has his bat in tow as he walks over and grabs his title belt. He slings it over his shoulder before motioning for another mic.
Josh Dean: Interesting. Now what I just saw right there are a couple of chickensh*ts that want to talk a big game, but run when the fight comes.
The crowd laughs as Josh walks over to the ropes and leans over them.
Josh Dean: I'm guessing you two think it's acceptable to mock the WFWF World Tag Team Championships, titles held by some of the greatest stars this industry has ever seen, hoping you can make people believe that you're edgy, scud missile shooting cowboys about to run roughshod on this company. And yet I'm supposed to buy into the concept that your antics and a win over Toboggan and Richardson puts you in line for a title shot? Is that what you're telling me?
The Thunderbirds shake their heads "Yes" as the crowd vehemently screams "No". It's getting louder as Frank Lynn tries to silence them.
Josh Dean: What it really looks like is that you two are itching to pick a fight. In case my Slugger and I didn't make the message clear to you, I'm not hard to find and I'm more than happy to oblige.
Josh drapes his Tag Title belt over the ropes. He stares down both Thunderbirds as they continue to back up the ramp.
Josh Dean: Since I'd fancy dealing out a couple ass whippings, here's what we're going to do. Obviously you boys think you're ready for the elite, I'm going to accept your challenge on behalf of myself and Drakz for Exodus. Let's just see if you're really as good as you think you are. But be warned, you have no idea what you just signed up for.
"In The City" hits as Josh stares down the soon to be challengers for his and Drakz's Tag Team Titles, holding his belt up high as the crowd goes nuts. They disappear behind the curtain, and Josh remains in the ring. He motions for his music to end before sitting the belt and bat down.
Josh Dean: Now I fully expect Isaac Cray to read me the riot act about what I just did here, but I figure he'll get over it. He always does. With that being said Isaac, I hope you find your vacation relaxing. Because at Exodus, I need you full force so that we make some pretty sh*t stains on the mat with the Thunderbirds.
The Indianapolis crowd agrees with their collective cheers. Josh smirks as he approaches the cameraman in the corner.
Josh Dean: But after we're finished with that, you and I are going to have a conversation regarding my rematch.
Josh drops the mic as "In the City" hits.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:42:57 GMT -5
Alecia Matthews: It looks like we've got our Tag Title match set up for our next show, Exodus, which emanates from Minneapolis at the Target Center. Still to come tonight, we have a huge Triple Threat Match featuring our new International Champion Lucas Crowe, his number one contender David Brennan, and Cam Nitta!
Daniel Knight: Such an important match up for jockeying position as we head into SuperBrawl. But coming up next, a return we never thought we'd see in the former International Champion, Joe Bishop!
Alecia Matthews: It's been nine months since we've seen Joe in a WFWF ring, and in that time he's travelled the world honing his craft. Tonight he takes on "Bulletproof" Bobby Hall, fresh off a tough loss at Black Hole Sun. Bishop wants to make this run in WFWF a successful one and Hall wants to get back on track. This should be a good one!
Daniel Knight: Let's send it up to Christa Adina to get us started!
"The Last Song" by Lucero hits and the crowd starts a mix of cheering and booing, as Bobby Hall makes his way out from behind the curtain. He stares out at the audience.
Christa Adina: The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is your co-main event of the evening. Introducing first, from Memphis, Tennessee, weighing in at 235 pounds. He is "Bulletproof" Bobby Hall!
Bobby shakes his head and walks down the ramp, eyes focused on the ring as he reaches the ringside area. He climbs the stairs and enters the ring, beating his chest as he walks across the ring.
Daniel Knight: Bobby looks amped up and ready to go. And he's going to need that intensity.
Darkness engulfs the Banker's Life Fieldhouse as 'Stay Away' hits the loudspeakers. On the titantron a clips of Bishop's two spells in the WFWF are interjected by clips of the Englishman competing around the world, with competitors much less familiar to the American audience. At “Monkey See, Monkey Do” a flash of pyro blasts out of the stage and from behind the curtain comes Joe Bishop, to a hostile reception from the WFWF fans.
Christa Adina: And his opponent, from Wimbledon, England, weighing in at 205 pounds and making his return to WFWF! He is Joe Bishop!
The Englishman raises his right arm, with his hand forming a fist, as he takes a few seconds to take in the abuse from the crowd. Then, once the atmosphere dies down, Bishop begins to march down the ramp, concealing his emotions from the audience and looking entirely focused on his upcoming match.
Alecia Matthews: Joe Bishop looks to be in great shape and has completely changed his look since the last time we saw him.
Daniel Knight: It looks like Joe has been hitting the weights in his time away. My sources have said he's put on about 15 pounds of lean muscle, which will make him him even more explosive than he already is.
He climbs up the ring steps, and enters the ring through the second and third rope. Bishop is left completely still in the middle of the ring - with his arms folded as the music fades and the lights return – ready to take on the man they call Bulletproof.
DING DING!
Joe methodically starts to circle the ring, as does Bobby. They lock up, and there's a short stalemate before Joe locks in a side headlock. He chains it into a hammerlock, then into an arm wringer. Joe immediately wrenches the arm downward, looking to put pressure on the shoulder. Bobby turns to face Joe, and Joe is able to chain it into a top wristlock. Bobby arches his back and looks to step under, but Joe cuts him off with an armdrag, turning it into a straight armbar. Joe looks to manipulate the wrist, but Bobby is able to fight up to his knees, landing a short hook to the ribs that loosens the hold up. Another shot, this time across the jaw, breaks the wristlock. Bobby with a followup hook to the temple and he looks to hook Joe. A pop of the hips and he sends him over with a vertical suplex! Float over,
1...
Kickout by Joe!
Bobby picks Joe up and slams into him with a big forearm. Joe covers up as Bobby backs him up to the ropes with hard shots. A whip into the ropes and Joe ducks the clothesline on the rebound. Bobby swings and misses a second time with Joe making him pay with a beautiful running calf kick to the jaw! Bobby sits up and Joe charges in, smashing into him with a hard basement dropkick! Bobby hits the mat and Joe follows up with an elbow drop. Bobby sits up and Joe lands a soccer kick to the spine. Bobby rolls to his back before Joe follows up with a short leg drop! Lateral press,
1...
2...
Kickout by Bobby!
Joe helps Bobby to his feet and lights him up with a stiff knife edge chop! The impact drops him to a knee.
Daniel Knight: You can hear that chop! We can already see those influences from abroad here in the early going.
Alecia Matthews: The big criticism on Joe Bishop in the past was an inconsistency with his killer instinct. He has a chance to put that to rest here if he stays on Bobby Hall.
A stiff roundhouse kick sends Bobby back to the mat. Joe quickly to the mount and he tees off with big ground and pound shots as Bobby covers up, his head bouncing off the canvas. The ref warns about the closed fists and Joe moves into a cross armbreaker, looking to hyperextend the arm even further. Bobby yells in pain, but is able to keep the arm bent. He postures up and slams Joe to the mat. Joe releases and Bobby looks to throw bombs, though most of them are avoided and deflected. Bobby looks to throw with the right and Joe kicks him in the shoulder. Bobby steps back, holding his arm and the former International Champion takes him down with a nasty armbar takedown! Cover by Joe,
1...
2...
Kickout by Bobby!
Alecia Matthews: Right back to the arm, and Joe Bishop remains in control!
Joe works back to his feet and it's stomps to the shoulder. Simple, yet effective offense as Bobby tries to roll away from Joe. He looks to pull himself up, with Joe letting him. Joe grabs Bobby and hooks him, taking him over with a violent snap suplex! Joe rolls the hips and nails another violent snap suplex! A third pop of the hips brings both men up and Joe with a third snap suplex! He pops up and backs up to the ropes, BIG ELBOW DROP LANDS! Joe looks for the cover,
1...
2...
Bobby gets the shoulder up! Joe looks a little discouraged as the crowd looks to will the Memphis brawler back into the match. Joe back to work with a reverse chinlock. He wrenches down on the hold, trying to cut Bobby's wind off. Bobby looks like he's fading, but turns his head to the side to give himself some space. A solid punch to the stomach lowers Joe's guard. A second one breaks the grip and Bobby starts throwing heavy leather! He's back in this, and he follows up by whipping Joe into the ropes before leveling him with a clothesline! Joe gets back up and Bobby knocks him down with a big flying shoulderblock! Joe pops back up and Bobby meets him! BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!
Daniel Knight: Bobby Hall is feeling it!
Alecia Matthews: He could very well be Bulletproof!
Daniel Knight: Bad pun intended?
Alecia Matthews: Seemed appropriate.
Note: This is what happens when Josh writes matches at 3 in the morning. This is also what happens when Trace reads everything before he posts, but still doesn’t bother deleting fourth wall breaking comments.
Anyway, back to the action. Bobby is still trying to loosen up his shoulder and gives Joe time to get to his feet. He rushes to the ropes and looks for the Delta Blues (Lariat) from behind, but Joe has it scouted. He ducks and wraps Bobby up, shoving him into the ropes before PLANTING HIM WITH A GERMAN SUPLEX! SH*T HE DROPPED BOBBY ON HIS HEAD! Joe looks to the top. He climbs up, perching himself on the top rope. Decido Spiritus (450 Splash) coming, but Bobby rolls out of the way! Joe bails out, DELTA BLUES (LARIAT) TURNS HIM INSIDE OUT!
Daniel Knight: What a shot! And he could have an upset!
The cover,
1...
2...
Kickout by Joe!
Bobby looks shocked, but sees that Joe is struggling. He looks to pull guard and attack with the Memphis Vice (Hell's Gate), but Joe has him scouted. A BRUTAL STOMP FLURRY TO EVER CONCEIVABLE BODY PART, CAPPED OFF BY BRUTAL STOMPS TO THE SHOULDER AND HEAD RENDER BOBBY NEARLY UNCONSCIOUS! MACTABILIS FACTUM (ANACONDA VICE) TO THE INJURED SHOULDER, FORCING BOBBY TO TAP OUT!
DING DING DING!
Christa Adina: Here is your winner via submission, Joe Bishop!
"Stay Away" hits as Joe releases the hold, climbing to his feet so the referee can raise his hand in victory. His victory draws mostly boos, with a few respectful cheers along the way. He nods and drops to the mat before rolling out of the ring.
Daniel Knight: Quite the impressive victory for the returning Joe Bishop. He seems to be picking up right where he left off and is arguably better than ever!
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:43:27 GMT -5
As the opening notes of “Heist” by Lindsey Stirling begin to play the crowd pop loudly as Cameron Stone emerges onto the stage. He’s not dressed to compete here tonight, and there’s no theatrics to the entrance, but it’s clear by the look on his face as he makes his way down to the ring that Stone is out here for a reason.
Alecia Matthews: At Black Hole Sun Cameron Stone lost the WFWF International Championship in that unification match with Lucas Crowe, and that’s got to playing on his mind right now as he heads to the ring.
Daniel Knight: Well there’s been rumours all week that having lost the International Championship and with his film commitments piling up Cameron Stone could be coming out here to call it a day, and that’s looking like it could be the case.
Stone taps a few fans hands as he goes but his mind is somewhere else as he reaches the ring. A stagehand quickly hands him a microphone and Stone climbs up onto the apron and through the bottom ropes, the crowd still cheering for him as he does so. As the crowd die down, which to be fair takes a little while, Stone starts to talk.
Cameron Stone: I’ve been doing this a long time now, whether it be in this ring or at that announce table my heart has always been with the WFWF and I have always given it my all each and every night no matter whether it was as wrestler or announcer. The reason that I’ve kept going all these years is because I wanted to be one of the best. I wanted to be a champion, to hold one of the top prizes in this company. A few months back I achieved that dream when I became, for the first time in my career, the WFWF International Champion. I’d fought my whole career for that moment… and then at Black Hole Sun it was taken from me by Lucas Crowe.
The crowd begin to boo at the mention of Crowe’s name, but Stone tries to calm them, shaking his head.
Cameron Stone: Look, I don’t blame Crowe; he won that match because he’s damn good in this ring. Doesn’t excuse him being an bunghole, but not everyone can have my sparkling personality. Crowe won, I lost, and now I don’t have any gold around my waist. I achieved something that I’d always fought for and now it’s gone and I’m left to wonder, what’s next? Back when I started in this ring I didn’t have much else, but now I’ve got commitments outside of the WFWF and let’s be honest, nowadays, I’m kind of a big deal.
He smirks as the crowd cheer once more.
Cameron Stone: So that leaves me questioning how much more do I have to give in this ring. Do I keep pushing my body to its limits or do I call it a day having achieved this dream and having another one on the horizon?
Daniel Knight: Certainly sounds like a retirement speech if you ask me.
Alecia Matthews: Sadly I think you might be right Daniel, and nobody out here would begrudge Stone if he wanted to ride off and live another dream.
The crowd don’t share their sentiments, starting a big chant of “please don’t go”. Stone smiles at them, getting emotional. He breathes heavily, poising himself…
Cameron Stone: And then I thought Stone, stop being a little bitch, get back into that ring and go one better!
And just like that the crowd flip, launching into a huge roar of approval.
Cameron Stone: Sure, I won the International Championship and I should be happy about that but all that proved was that I can get it done, and I reckon I can do it better. Which is why right here, right now I am declaring my challenge for the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship!
And now the crowd is completely in a frenzy!
Cameron Stone: Now I know you’re not here tonight Drakz but I’m damn sure you’re watching so listen up. If you feel like crawling out of your bed and coming to work face me in the ring next week then I will do what nobody else seems to be able to do and I will permanently take that title from around-
He’s interrupted by the sound of loud, amplified, sarcastic clapping. All eyes turn to the stage where Trace Demon stands, clapping one hand into the head of his microphone. Stone glares holes into him from the ring, not happy at having his moment interrupted. Neither are the fans as they begin to boo the owner of the WFWF, who’s looking a little worse for wear after his steel cage clash with Josh Dean at Black Hole Sun.
Daniel Knight: Well this is a surprise! We had heard that both Drakz and Trace Demon were going to be absent tonight, understandable given the wars they went through, yet here’s Trace now!
Alecia Matthews: And he’s taking Stone’s moment from him, why is he even out here?
Daniel Knight: He’s the owner of the WFWF, if someone is laying down a challenge for the title then he’s got an interest in it.
Trace Demon: Yes, yes, ladies and gentlemen, the big bad boss has arrived.
Trace Demon gives a little bow as the crowd’s booing gets even louder. Trace chuckles to himself as he begins to walk, or rather limp, down towards the ring, talking as he goes.
Trace Demon: And let’s give a round of applause shall we to Cameron Stone for truly trying to be convincing when he says he’s going to be the next World Heavyweight Champion. I mean if this is how good you are at acting then you’ll do just fine in Hollywood.
At this point Trace has reached the ring and pulls himself up onto the apron, leaning against the ropes and smirking at an agitated Stone.
Trace Demon: I mean you’ve got to be acting, right? Otherwise we’re going to have to get you some help for your delusions.
Trace laughs again then climbs in through the ropes. It’s taking all of Stone’s willpower not to go for him right now.
Trace Demon: Wait, wait… you’re serious, aren’t you?
Cameron Stone: Damn right I am.
Trace fakes a look of disbelief.
Trace Demon: Stone, buddy, let’s be serious for a second here. You just lost the International Championship; you really think you’d stand a chance against Drakz? Or me? I mean no offence but you’re not really on our level are you. You’re not even on Sam or Josh’s level, and look how well they did. Thinking about it, Black Hole Sun was not a good night for you guys was it. Zero in three. But that’s no surprise really, not when you’re facing off with people a few dozen levels above you.
Stone takes a step forward and Trace holds his hand up, stopping him before he can come any further.
Trace Demon: Oh come on Cam, I’m just busting your balls. Look, I get it, you’re a Hollywood guy now, you think that makes you a main event player. But that’s not how things work around here, you can have as high a profile as you want outside this ring but it’s what you do in it that matters to the people running the place, you know, people like me. And you… well you just haven’t quite proven yourself if I’m being honest. I mean to be the champ you’ve got to do anything, you’ve got to be ruthless, you’ve got to want it so much you’d take any opportunity given to you to take it.
Cameron Stone: And you don’t think I’d do that?
Trace Demon: Cam, you’re a good guy, too good if you ask me. I just don’t think you’ve got that killer instinct in you. Why else would it have taken you so long to get to the point where you’d even consider challenging for the top prize? No, you’ve not got what it takes I’m afraid.
Cameron Stone: Come on then Trace, let me show you exactly what I’ve got, right here, right now, me and you!
The crowd pop at the thought of an impromptu match between these two, but Trace simply shakes his head.
Trace Demon: That’s not how we do things around here Cam, you know that. We’re a smartly run business, we advertise our matches; we promote them, because that’s what a good business does. And losing to me isn’t exactly going to prove anything is it. Plus that’s not gonna prove anything is it? I’ve got no doubt that you’d go toe to toe with me, we’re not exactly friends, but if it came down to you and, say, Samael, and you had to break that poor boy with your bare hands to get to the title, you just wouldn’t do it. Like I said, you’ve got no ruthlessness. That’s where you’re going wrong. Friends are great, championships are better. So here’s my question to you Cam, how much do you really want this shot? How far do you really think you’d go to be called Cameron Stone…
He steps forward, so that he’s almost right beside Stone. The devil whispering in his ear.
Trace Demon: WFWF World Heavyweight Champion.
Stone pushes Trace away, and Trace smiles again. He’s having fun tonight.
Cameron Stone: I want this shot and I will do what it takes to get it.
Trace Demon: Okay! Then prove it! Next week I’m going to step inside this very ring, or more accurately one that looks exactly like it, let’s be honest, and I am going to compete… for your benefit.
Stone looks just as confused as the fans right now.
Trace Demon: Because next week Cam I’m inviting you to stand right there outside the ring… in my corner, and I want you to prove just how far you’re willing to go to get a shot at the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship. Because, and here’s where things get fun, my match is going to have a little something on the line. If I win… you get a shot at the title. And if I lose… you get nothing. Nada. Zilch.
Cam’s face is a picture, and Trace is loving every moment of it. Even the crowd talk among themselves, can barely believe what they’re hearing.
Trace Demon: What are you willing to do Cam? Let’s find out… together.
Trace drops the microphone and climbs out of the ring, passing right by Stone in the process, and laughing the entire time. Stone still can’t believe what he’s just heard, standing in the centre of the ring with a shell shocked look on his face.
Alecia Matthews: What the… next week, Trace Demon will compete with Cameron Stone’s title shot on the line… and Stone won’t even be involved in the match? What the hell is that?
Daniel Knight: Stone won’t be involved in the match Alecia, but Trace has invited him to be in his corner. His fate is still very much in his own hands.
Alecia Matthews: What, if he helps Trace win? Cam won’t do that!
Daniel Knight: Are you sure about that, because I’m sure as hell not.
And neither is Stone by the look on his face as he turns to watch Trace Demon head up the ramp. The King of Demons is walking backwards, looking back at the ring, still laughing to himself. Whatever is going through Cameron Stone’s mind right now one thing’s for certain… next week is going to be very interesting for the former WFWF International Champion.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:43:50 GMT -5
The house lights slowly fade to black as a screeching guitar lick pierces throughout the arena. Up on the TunaTron, a time lapse night shot of the city of Boston flashes by, as the darkened arena pulses green in beat with a common time guitar riff. Anticipation builds, as does the beat, before the music crescendos, marked by the time lapse dissipating into nothing, and a telltale, gray scaled shot of two fists, tattooed across the knuckles with the word ‘SKINHEAD’ join together in its place. ‘Hail to the King’ kicks into full gear as the arena is now bathed in a kelly green light. Up on the entrance stage, David Brennan, in all his self-professed glory, saunters out into full view, downing courage out of a tall boy can, another secured lazily in his other hand. He pauses on the stage to take in the crowd for a moment before raising his drink to a mix of reactions, downing it in one final gulp before tossing the remnants haphazardly into the crowd and making his way down the ramp, smirking and chuckling to himself all the while.
Christa Adina: The following contest is your main event of the evening, is scheduled for one fall and is a triple threat match! Introducing first, from Boston Massachusetts, weighing 243lbs, David Brennaaan!
He rolls into the ring, popping his second can and chugging as much as possible as he climbs the hardside ropes before chucking the half full can into the crowd in an impressive, green hued shower of foam and lager. Climbing the nearest corner, he beckons the crowd, arms spread wide, shouting god knows what out into the sea of anonymous faces as the music comes to a fade, bringing with its quiet the house lights back to a shine.
"If you're sick, if you're sick, if you're sick, if you're sick of it If you're sick, if you're sick, if you're SICK OF IT!" Cam emerges from the curtains, cloaked in a black hood and black jacket. Cam extends his hands towards the fans as he walks down the entrance way, but he doesn't seem to care much for them high-fiving.
Christa Adina: And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing 185lbs, Caaaaaam Niiitta!
When Cam gets to the ring, he sheds his coat as the chorus his, which sets off the pyro on the stage.
The words “I’m a mother f*cking BEAST!” blares through the arena as Beast by Rob Bailey and the Hustle Standard hits and Lucas Crowe makes his way from behind the curtain. There is nothing but boos from the crowd as the big man saunters his way down the ramp.
Christa Adina: And their opponent, from Detroit, Michigan, weighing 310lbs, he is the WFWF International Champion, the “Motor City Mercenary” Lucas Croooooowe!
Crowe gets to the ring and climbs up and over the top rope. He paces inside the ring a bit before facing the camera side and raises his fist.
Alecia Matthews: Well here we go, this is going to be a mess.
Daniel Knight: Three of the finest competitors in the industry facing off right here folks.
Alecia Matthews: Two of them are pieces of sh*t.
Daniel Knight: That, I can not contest nor confirm.
Right out of the gate it seems Nitta realises he’s at a disadvantage here being the nicest guy of the bunch. He reacts by charging Crowe and hitting a dropsault that staggers Crowe back into his corner. He then then throws a kick at Brennan, which is caught, so he follows up with an enziguri that drops the skinhead. Nitta back to Crowe now and tries another dropsault but this time Crowe is ready for it, rooted to the spot. Nitta on his feet runs the ropes and dives toward Crowe looking for a spinning back elbow but Crowe simply plucks him from the air like an insect.
Daniel Knight: Cam was doing his best in shark infested water but man these sharks are huge.
Alecia Matthews: That was some terrible announcing.
Crowe, with no real style or finesse simply lifts Nitta high over his head, runs across the ring and launches him over the top rope. Cam slams back first into the edge of the commentary table but it doesn’t budge.
Alecia Matthews: Jesus! I thought Cam was going to hit us then. Crowe did not give a damn about that landing!
Brennan from behind now drills Crowe between the legs with his boot and Crowe nearly swallows his tongue. Brennan hooks his arm around Crowe’s neck and hits a reverse ddt before making a cover hoping to end this one quickly.
… 1 …
… kick out!
Crowe has the presence of mind to kick out but he’s still squirming on the ground, his face beetroot red and crumpled with pain.
Daniel Knight: I’d like to say that I was surprised by what just happened but that’s the exact kind of thing we’ve come to expect from David Brennan over the years.
Alecia Matthews: It was a blow strong enough to fell that red wood though. Perhaps not a bad tactic?
Brennan starts laying boots into the head of Crowe, over and over until the referee’s count forces him to move away, holding his hands aloft. Brennan goes back and lifts Crowe up before sending him into the corner with an Irish whip. He follows it up with a leaping splash and then a short snapmare, sitting the big man on his backside. He then drills him as hard as he can in the back with a sharp kick punctuated by those same doc martin boots. Crowe howls a series of expletives as Brennan brings him back up to a standing base yet again. He whips Crowe across the ring and goes for a clothesline but Crowe simply uses his size and a shoulder block flattens Brennan.
Daniel Knight: And the big man uses the gifts God gave him!
Crowe shakes his head, setting the cobwebs loose and snatches Brennan as he begins to stand. Overhead belly to belly suplex! Brennan is tossed across the ring and skids on impact.
Alecia Matthews: The torque on that was insane! Brennan actually kept going when he hit the mat.
Crowe roars and then moves over to Brennan who lies on his back. Crowe reaches down to grab Brennan by the head but Brennan unloads a boot into the champion’s face that stagers him back giving Brennan enough of an opening to roll out of the ring.
Daniel Knight: Is Cam okay? He’s still down in front of us.
Alecia Matthews: He’s moving so at least we know he’s alive?
Crowe shouts abuse down at David Brennan and even goes as far as holding the ropes open for him, inviting him back in. Brennan laughs him off and flips him the bird. Crowe is having none of it.
Alecia Matthews: I’m not sure Lucas Crowe is a man you want to antagonise David.
Crowe steps over the top rope and then hops down to the outside with a thud. Brennan is quick to act though and the second Crowe lands meets him with a yakuza kick that drops him, followed by more stomping. Brennan hoists Crowe up and then tosses him into the steel ring steps. Crowe’s height causes him to go tumbling head over heels up and over the stairs. Brennan now walks around the side of the ring toward the announcers looking for Cam but he’s no where to be seen.
Daniel Knight: Where did Cam go?
Alecia Matthews: I was so tied up in the action I missed him making any kind of recovery.
“Brennan!”
David turns to the source of the shouting and Nitta soars through the air, springboarding from the top rope. He lands on David’s shoulders and pivots with a headscissors that tosses Brennan face first into the edge of the ring apron. He staggers back, clutching his face into the waiting arms of Nitta who hits a Crucifier (chickenwing facebuster) on the outside!
Alecia Matthews: Cam’s back in this!
Daniel Knight: The explosive energy of Cam Nitta is something neither of these big men can match, not by a long shot!
Lucas Crowe is back to his feet and he starts making his way around to the action but Nitta sees him coming. He hops onto the apron and runs the length of it, diving with a flipping senton onto Crowe.
Daniel Knight: Woah!
The strength of Crowe garners a collective gasp from all in attendance as he catches Nitta holding him in a powerbomb position. Cam starts hitting him in the face with lefts and rights and Crowe staggers backward a couple of steps, eventually though Crowe simply slams Nitta with a powerbomb on the thin mats that surround the ring and the wind is driven from the much smaller man. Crowe keeps his grip on Nitta’s legs and stands up straight with him hanging down. He then swings and slams Nitta’s head into the guardwall before hoisting the dead weight back up and simply tossing him over the guard wall and into the front 2 rows, scattering the fans and destroying a number of steel chairs.
Daniel Knight: Lucas Crowe is ruthless!
Alecia Matthews: It’s as though winning his match with Cameron has made him give even less of a f*k than before.
Daniel Knight: Can we say that?
Alecia Matthews: Who cares?
Crowe gets back in the ring to find David Brennan already there, on all fours clutching at his face still. Crowe moves over to him and picks him up before hitting an inverted fall away slam, following up with a cover.
… 1 …
… 2 …
kick out!/i]
Crowe stays on top of Brennan and starts hammering with a shower of right hands until the ref calls a 5 count and Crowe is forced to step away. Crowe gets in the referee’s face and Brennan once again rolls out of the ring. Crowe turns back around and starts frantically scanning the ringside area for his missing opponent. He moves over to the ropes and catches sight of Brennan crawling under the ring.
“Mother f*cker.”
Alecia Matthews: Well there goes Brennan. What’s he up to?
Crowe steps over the ropes and gets down, lifting the ring apron, peering inside. He can’t find Brennan so he sticks his head further under the ring. BOOM! A hail of foam sprays around the shape of Crowe and he flattens against the floor.
Daniel Knight: Does that answer your question Alecia?
Brennan scrambles out, over the top of Lucas, the dented can of beer in his hand which he holds aloft before swigging what remains inside it.
Alecia Matthews: I’d act as though that was a devious and unjust thing to do but as it only really effects Crowe I’m kind of quite neutral about the whole thing.
Daniel Knight: I wonder how Cam’s doing?
Brennan hauls Crowe up to a semi standing base before bundling him back into the ring under the bottom rope. He takes a final draw, emptying the can before following him in and hooking the big man’s leg.
… 1 …
… 2 …
…kick out!
Alecia Matthews: However Cam is he needs to get a move on because that was ridiculously close to a 3 count!
Brennan grabs Crowe’s tree trunk like legs and folds them up, flipping his opponent onto his belly and torquing back with The King’s Ransom! (Texas Cloverleaf)
Daniel Knight: This could be it Alecia. He’s got the champ centre of the ring!
Crowe is woken from his daze by the searing pain in his back and legs and uses his insane strength to drag both he and a seated Brennan across the ring so he can grab a rope. The ref count gets to 4 before Brennan relinquishes the hold. Brennan doesn’t waste any time as he knows he’s got Crowe in a weakened state, especially after exerting so much energy with that submission escape. He brings Crowe to his feet but Crowe pushes him back. Brennan runs back in and both men are levelled with a pair of clotheslines. The ref counts:
… 1 …
… 2 …
… 3 …
… 4 …
… 5 …
Surprisingly it is Lucas Crowe making his way to a knee first but Cam Nitta has dragged himself to his feet in amongst the crowd. Those around him are slapping him on the back and cheering him on as he hops up on to the guard wall. From there he runs along it, jumps across to the ring apron, grabbing the ropes, and launches into a springboard!
Daniel Knight: Cam Nitta ladies and gentlemen!
Cam blasts the still kneeling Crowe with a high angle missile dropkick that jerks him backward slamming his head on the mat.
Alecia Matthews: That’s it Cam! He’s back in the mix.
Brennan is having none of it as he runs and simple bundles Cam through the ropes and out of the ring. Crowe is on his hands and knees trying to catch the breath that was just forced out of him by that dropkick and Brennan spots him. He jumps. Heavy is the Crown! (Standing leg-drop bulldog). A cover.
… 1 …
… 2 …
…3!
Christa Adina: Here is your winner, David Brennaaaaaan!
Daniel Knight: Brennan pins the champion!
Alecia Matthews: This is huge! The momentum is firmly on his side now.
Daniel Knight: It took a beer can, help from Cam Nitta and then Heavy is the Crown but David Brennan has done it here tonight, pinning the very man he’s set to face at Superbrawl!
David Brennan has well and truly made an impact tonight, and he knows it, rising to his feet, slumping in the corner and smirking down at the champion. Superbrawl goes off the air with a very ominous sight. David Brennan standing tall, looking down at the champ and shaking his head in amusement. Will this be the sight the next time these two men meet, or will the WFWF International Championship remain around Crowe’s waist.
Oh, it’s Superbrawl season all right.
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Post by Rated R on Jun 12, 2016 18:46:39 GMT -5
Now that ladies and gentleman is a show worthy of the road to Superbrawl. Massive thanks to Josh, Shawn, Future, Lynn and everybody else who contributed. Oh and Stan McMann for the acid trip of an opening seg.
Let's keep this level up shall we.
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Post by King Richius on Jun 12, 2016 19:36:31 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff.
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Post by Deep Figure Value on Jun 12, 2016 19:56:16 GMT -5
RIP Golden Toucans 2016 - 2016
I remember hearing that Future was coming back, but for a moment there, between the Delorean, the vest, and the plate, I was worried this was a return for J. Michaels.
Good show to reaLly kick off the road to SB. Glad to see some early movement on a lot of different feuds.
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Post by Prophet of Ash on Jun 12, 2016 19:56:22 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff. you should've been around during my run.. I had a match (with Josh Dean, no less) end with the threat of decapitation from a katana, would regularly walk around with a machete, and used a weedeater at least twice. Plus a "regular move" in Schneider's arsenal was jamming barbecue skewers into his opponent's scalp. Barbed wire bat is tame.
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Post by Deep Figure Value on Jun 12, 2016 19:59:47 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff. you should've been around during my run.. I had a match (with Josh Dean, no less) end with the threat of decapitation from a katana, would regularly walk around with a machete, and used a weedeater at least twice. Plus a "regular move" in Schneider's arsenal was jamming barbecue skewers into his opponent's scalp. Barbed wire bat is tame. No sh*t. If you're ever pressed for a creative weapon, give Obo here a call. Guy went on for weeks one time about gusset plates. Gusset plates.
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Post by King Richius on Jun 12, 2016 20:00:34 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff. you should've been around during my run.. I had a match (with Josh Dean, no less) end with the threat of decapitation from a katana, would regularly walk around with a machete, and used a weedeater at least twice. Plus a "regular move" in Schneider's arsenal was jamming barbecue skewers into his opponent's scalp. Barbed wire bat is tame. Well, I did create a new move called the "sh*tkicker" in my match so it shouldn't be too much of an adjustment.
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Post by Prophet of Ash on Jun 12, 2016 20:08:53 GMT -5
you should've been around during my run.. I had a match (with Josh Dean, no less) end with the threat of decapitation from a katana, would regularly walk around with a machete, and used a weedeater at least twice. Plus a "regular move" in Schneider's arsenal was jamming barbecue skewers into his opponent's scalp. Barbed wire bat is tame. Well, I did create a new move called the "sh*tkicker" in my match so it shouldn't be too much of an adjustment. my long time finisher was The Beverly Kills 90210. I also had a move called Reagan's Revenge, which was a double stomp to the stomach.
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Post by The Future on Jun 12, 2016 21:19:13 GMT -5
Matches were brilliantly written...especially the main event.
Don't fully know what the hell I experienced in that opening segment but it was very intriguing.
Cat's out the bag now. The caped futchator is back and ready to kick ass and other parts.
The vest and bttf-like stuff was just to establish a theme, like, wink and nod to me traveling through time. Maybe a bit to swerve toward Johnny, too. My first rp-like material written in around 12 years though. I'm hyped to be back.
The quality of writing all around here is astounding. Match writers and the stuff leading up to now have been great. I wanted to comment on rps and sign up threads the past few weeks but I wanted this to be a surprise far more. Hope you all are ready...
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Post by jdfranchise on Jun 12, 2016 21:19:24 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff. Playtime's over.
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Post by jdfranchise on Jun 12, 2016 21:22:14 GMT -5
Anyway guys, sexuh set of result as per usual. I love the story lines being set up, the returns. Did I mention a Stan McMann sighting is like the greatest thing ever? Then you top it off with the return of Future! FUTURE! This is one of the pillars of this fed that even predates WFWF as we know it, and I'm marking out. Great show gents.
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Post by bad guy™ on Jun 12, 2016 22:11:41 GMT -5
Matches were brilliantly written...especially the main event. Don't fully know what the hell I experienced in that opening segment but it was very intriguing. Cat's out the bag now. The caped futchator is back and ready to kick ass and other parts. The vest and bttf-like stuff was just to establish a theme, like, wink and nod to me traveling through time. Maybe a bit to swerve toward Johnny, too. My first rp-like material written in around 12 years though. I'm hyped to be back. The quality of writing all around here is astounding. Match writers and the stuff leading up to now have been great. I wanted to comment on rps and sign up threads the past few weeks but I wanted this to be a surprise far more. Hope you all are ready... Other than the owners and Bishop I only let the cat out to two other people that you were the guy I got to come in. Biggest acquisition in (recent) WFWF history. As for that opening, Stan McMann's a comedy character who was a weird ass writer that was actually a damn good writer for as ridiculous as his RPs (similar to the opening you just saw) who knocked off a pretty big name and could have been in title contention had he not left for personal life things. But I asked him to come back for a SuperBrawl moment, and this is it.
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Post by King Richius on Jun 12, 2016 22:24:16 GMT -5
Wow, looks like the Thunderbirds really got under Joshua Dean's skin. A barbwire baseball bat? Really? Sounds like someone is feeling a little inadequate after his cage match loss. Gonna be fun going into the tag title match at Exodus. I'm already working on some voodoo dolls so If Drakz & jdfranchise start experiencing migraines so bad that they can't write you know who to blame. Enough trash talk, better save something for the RPs. Let's put on a good show! The McMann and the Future stuff was kinda weird. I'm guessing that any limits I was imposing on my writing were unnecessary after all that stuff. Playtime's over. Do you have a headache yet? I've been jabbing this doll with a pin for the past hour.
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Post by jdfranchise on Jun 12, 2016 22:30:00 GMT -5
Playtime's over. Do you have a headache yet? I've been jabbing this doll with a pin for the past hour. Nope, I'm good.
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