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Post by Stare on Nov 22, 2006 4:02:45 GMT 1
LIVE from the M.E.N. ARENA Manchester, England [/b][/color] [/center] Tonight, the Superstars from P2PW Blitz! return to the beginning of their European Tour, The M.E.N. Arena in Manchester. For one of the most anticipated PPV's in the History of the P2PW, and the final stop before WrestleFever 3. Tonight, 3 Titles will be put on the line. 3 chances will be given to cement an image in the history books, one that every star craves. ***WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TRIPLE THREAT TORTURE CHAMBER MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] Simz vs. NIN Horror vs. SoundScream[/color] It just wasn't enough for one man to lose what he worked so hard to have, and then walk away. Now, he finds himself on a tougher road to gain it back, as he is being raced by a man who is out to prove that he is anything but a choke artist. But, the cliche of "easier said than done" is an understatement, as they will have to overcome one of the most dominating stars in P2PW history to win it back. Their biggest ally will be that he doenst have to be pinned to lose the belt. But, with all these egos in one ring, the chance of allies is slim, and the chance for every man for himself is as high as ever. In what could go down as one of the greatest Triple Threats ever, three men will be giving it all they have to gain everything they desire.[/center] --------------------------------------
***SINGLES MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] Spackle vs. _the j-man[/color] Two of the most up-and-coming stars will finally meet and battle it out for supremacy, and maybe more importantly, for a chance to rise one step closer to a Title Shot. _the j-man has been on a destructive path recently, trying to reach what has eluded him, a shot at the World Title. He has formed a hit list, and Spackle may be the toughest combatant on J's way to the top. But, dethroning the man who many think will be the next World Champion could be a huge step up for Spackle. This feud has been very physical, and sometimes nothign more than Sadistic, and this match could steal the show. [/center] --------------------------------------
***INTERNATIONAL TITLE MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] Soul Reaper vs. "The Canadian Icon" Chilly Willy[/color] Soul Reaper is better than ever, and he has been proving that ever since Sole Survivor. But, could the past come back to haunt him? Tonight, the man that may have earned the biggest upset in history over Soul Reaper tries to make lightning strike twice. Chilly Willy has had his ups and downs, but tonight, it could be time for redemption. This matches interest lies solely in the chance that embarassment could happen again..[/center] --------------------------------------
***DESERT DEATH MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] Stare vs. Cactus[/color] One of the most "interesting" feuds in a while. A fallen GM wants his job back, and the only way he could get that chance is to go through the most hardcore athlete in the sport today. Unfortunately, he's already proven that he will make the job extremely difficult, and the environment he has chosen would scare the sickest men, much less Stare. One thing is for sure, the blood will pour out of both men. This one comes right down to one word . . . respect.[/center] --------------------------------------
***FANATIC TITLE MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] JT Blade vs. Diddly Squat[/color] The returning Diddly Squat has been on a bigger roll that ever, and in his first match back, he will try to make history by dethroning the most hated man in Sports Entertainment. Diddly has certainly been a thorn in JT's side, and JT has handled it with anything but grace. But there is an old saying that "once you push him so far" . . . let's just say that JT is being pushed to the limit, and Diddly's comeback coudl be short-lived.[/center] --------------------------------------
***SINGLES MATCH*** [/b][/u][/size] Ben "The Rebel" Jenkins vs. Ecos[/color] Ben Jenkins has been on a fast track to the top, but tonight, he may have bitten off more than he can chew. Ecos is a very hungry, very determined superstar, and he will prove to be a tough opponent for the newcomer[/center] --------------------------------------
***SOUL REAPER MAKES HIS FINAL VERDICT*** [/color][/size] It's the decision that everyone is waiting on. Could Soul Reaper be the next man in line for the World Title? Or could he do the unthinkable, and take a chance at the P2PW Title? Then again, maybe he has the desire to be the first man to hold all three titles on Blitz!, and will shoot for the Fanatic Title? Or he could go after one of the most honored belts in P2PW history, and approach the Rage Champion. Then again, The Internet Title has been surrounded by a lot of controversy, and if anyone loves controversy, it's Soul Reaper. One thing is for sure, everyone is dying to know his decision, and that's the way he likes it[/center] --------------------------------------------------
DEADLINE
Thursday, November 30th @ 9 pm
The World Title match is Rage Rules, as always. Do Not Vote on that match.
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Post by The Great JT on Nov 22, 2006 4:16:14 GMT 1
Ben "The Rebel" Jenkins JT Blade (as if you couldn't tell) Cactus Soul Reaper _the j-man
Promo to come.
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Post by Stare on Nov 22, 2006 4:35:25 GMT 1
Spackle Soul Reaper Stare Diddly Ecos
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Post by Faster Pussycat! on Nov 22, 2006 6:35:18 GMT 1
Spackle Chilly Willy Cactus Diddly Squat Ben Jenkins
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Post by Simz on Nov 22, 2006 11:55:20 GMT 1
Ben Spackle Stare Chilly Willy JT
Ha, closing date on my birthday! Hopefully that'll bring luck!
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Post by Cactus on Nov 22, 2006 20:02:31 GMT 1
Scream
Spackle
Chilly
Cactus
Diddly
Ecos
Promo is coming
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Post by The Great JT on Nov 27, 2006 0:16:08 GMT 1
Promo time is now. And I'll say this now: no cute stuff. Separate your unsatisfiable needs to flame me from any in-character moments and KEEP IT THAT WAY!!!
Scene opens in J.T. Blade's locker room. J.T. is watching his on-air segment. The television is playing the segment, unintelligable.
J.T. Blade: Fuckin' stupid writers. If I get the lead writer alone for five seconds, I'll kill him.
J.T. picks up the TV and throws it across the room, smashing against the opposing wall. The TV breaks into hundreds of pieces. J.T. grabs the metal briefcase laying against the wall and doorframe, then heads toward the ring. At ringside, Anything But Down hits, and the crowd erupts into a chorus of boos. J.T. doesn't even acknowledge the crowd and continues making his way down the ring. J.T. slides the briefcase into the ring and rolls in. He calls for a microphone.
J.T.: Cut the music! Cut the god-damn music!
The music cuts, but the crowd continues to boo.
J.T.: Now then. On Blitz, the writing team decided to have a little fun with me. Yeah, okay, we'll make the most hated man in P2P Wrestling, the Fanatic Champion, these peoples' champion!...
The crowd boos loudly.
J.T.: ...look like a complete idiot. Well, this Manchester crowd is completely infatuated with me! This crowd has an ultimatum: no more of these episodes where you feel the need to make me look the way you made me look on Blitz! According to my contract, what I do in my private life and what YOU want to present me as on international television are not to be intertwined! One more slip-up like this, and I'll be forced to take legal action!
The crowd's boos lighten.
J.T.: Okay, now I've got something I would like to read. This is a letter from my youngest fan.
J.T. pulls a letter out of his jeans' back pocket.
J.T.: Now then, this letter comes to me from William Thomas, who lives right here in Manchester. The letter states: "Dear Asshole, you are the worst wrestler ever. I hope you die in the most brutal, inhumanly gory way imaginable Go to hell, you ruddy arse. Spitefully, William Thomas." Well, that's a pretty advanced vocabulary for a seven year old! Now if that's not a J.T. Blade fan, I don't know what is! In response to his letter, we sent William a J.T. Blade t-shirt. Let's have a big hand for William Thomas, come on give it up.
The crowd boos loudly.
J.T.: Mancheseter, I am shocked! Booing a seven-year-old child! That's appalling! Only true fiends would do that!
The crowd starts chanting "JT Sucks".
J.T.: Now then, as for tonight. Final Verdict. The Soul Reaper Show. Wow, that last one sounded like an Insane Clown Posse album. Anyway, tonight, I go one-on-one with Diddly Squat.
The crowd cheers as J.T. mentions Diddly Squat.
J.T.: Actually, I will NOT be facing Diddly Squat one-on-one. This is a message to everyone in the back. They say money is the root of all evil. From now until my match...
J.T. picks up the briefcase and opens it. Inside is $25,000, American.
J.T.: Let's see how evil the locker room is! From now until my match, I will offer $25,000 to the man or woman who takes out Diddly Squat! Whoever brings me a photo, videotape or DVD of Diddly Squat in a bloody heap, being attacked by any member of the locker room, in a hospital bed, or generally "being taken care of", I will pay $25,000, in cash. However! If there is no proof of a date DIGITALLY, example, the date, you will not see a cent! And why should Blitz be the only show who gets in on the J.T. Blade "Kick Diddly Squat's Ass Black And Blue $25,000 Giveaway"? Anyone on TNT want to get in on this offer, hey, go crazy!
The crowd boos loudly and chants "JT Sucks" as J.T. revels in his announcement.
J.T.: But hey. Even if nobody claims the prize, Diddly Squat! Where the hell have you been?! If your name's any indication, you've been doing nothing! You are nothing! Zero! An insignificant variable! An insect! A speed bump on my road to the title! Diddly, you're the Charlotte Bobcats of P2P Wrestling! And it'll be my pleasure to take you out of the greatest wrestling federation today! Diddly, your comeback ends here!
Anything But Down hits again and J.T. takes the briefcase and leaves. The crowd boos as the scene fades to black.
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Post by eCo on Nov 27, 2006 19:10:26 GMT 1
Ecos is in a setting that is in a room that appears to be something like a church. This was recorded a few days before the event. There is a kiddy pool in the center of the room that is surrounded by candles. There is a glass box submerged in the kiddy pool that is not visible to the viewer’s eyes. Ecos is standing on the glass box once again, making it seem like he is standing on water. In the back wall there is a black curtain.
Ecos: What on Earth is this world coming too? Wars in the mid-east, famine in Ethiopia, and we still have minorities in America who are being treated like average Americans ? Ecos shakes his head Things are even worse in Blitz. That stupid, overrated, oversized, moron E2 is actually right. “The fuck is Blitz?” Seriously look what Blitz became: Soul Reaper is still international champion, TNT is being more recognized, and worst of all NO ONE IS ACCEPTING ME AS THEIR HOLY SAVIOR! GOD!!! What is wrong with everyone?!?!
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, we now have this new guy here in Blitz. It confuses and angers me that a low class slob like Ben Jenkins is rising on the top. I worked so hard to purify Blitz of inferior trash, and now I see someone like Ben Jenkins rising… Ecos shakes his fist IT PISSES ME OFF!!!! When Final Verdict arrives, the only thing that will be final is Ben Jenkin’s last match here in Blitz.
Ecos then raises his fingers giving out a signal. The curtains behind him drop, and they reveal his new flag. The flag is black, with a golden swastika on it. In the center of the swastika, there is a small Ecosian crescent cross.
Ecos: Gee, I hope my new flag doesn’t offend anyone.
The Camera fades
The setting is now in the Arena, and it was revealed that it was a recording, the music Close Your Eyes hits, and the crowd erupts in a chorus of boos. Ecos walks out, and in his hand is a smaller version of the flag that was in the recording. The crowd boos even louder at the sight of the flag. Ecos has his arrogant smile on him, and he slowly makes his way to the arena and prepares for a speech.
Ecos: Now is it just me or I feel that you are all offended for some reason.
Ecos looks at his flag then smiles
Ecos: Oooh, I see now. Well don’t think for a moment that I’m some neo-nazi or any kind of white supremacist. But you can’t say Hitler was all that bad. He just wanted to… well purify the world. The crowd boos louder again Just how I want to purify Blitz and P2PW. It’s obvious I need to go on the same type of crusade here on Blitz. Ben Jenkins! You represent everything that I want to get rid of. Some Rebel, who is a lazy beer drinking slob!
The crowd cheers for a bit Ecos: Yeah you people like that don’t you! You people are all the same and just like him! Fat ass, beer drinking slobs who live in a life of sin! I’m sick of it!!! People like all of you are holding the human race back! The sad part is that you all like your rebel icons! People like Stone Cold, Sandman, and now Ben Jenkins. Well I hate to break to news to you all, but his career will end TONIGHT! I will not tolerate such a waste of human life here in Blitz!!!
Ben Jenkins, your end will start a new beginning here in Blitz. This is going to become the beginning to the pursuit of perfection. Ben Jenkins you will pay for your sins, when I put you in my crucifixion, you can scream your sins out all you want, but the truth is that nothing can save you, NOTHING!
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Post by Cactus on Nov 28, 2006 22:39:59 GMT 1
The camera is facing a brick wall, its pans around to see a memorial and an eternal flame, we can’t make out the writing as the camera passes to quickly. Next we see a set of wrought iron gates, the words “YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE” emblazoned across the top. The camera speeds through the gates, across a short courtyard, through a turnstile, and up the stairs. The camera’s view is all green grass, it’s a football pitch. A lone figure stands in the penalty box, again the camera goes into a quick zoom and we see that the figure is the lone wolf Cactus.
Cactus“You made it, for our American friends who might be wondering where I am, I am at my spiritual home. I am about 60 miles away from the arena at Anfield, the home of Liverpool Football Club. I could not come to England and not make a journey here, I spent most of my youth here on these terraces. I spent most Saturday afternoons here as a child, standing on the kop cheering my team on. This is where I used to dream about being becoming a wrestler. Most kids my age here wanted to play football but not me. It was not physical enough for me.
Now I return here, a star within one of the biggest wrestling promotions in the world, the P2pW. And tonight I face quite possibly one of my biggest tests in Stare. “
Cactus pauses at this and looks thoughtful, as he is recalling an old memory.
Cactus“ I remember about 3 years ago, I was training and wrestling up and down the British Isles when out of the blue I received a call from Stare. He was starting up a promotion and was interested in signing me. He flew a few of us out for meetings. It went really well and I ended up signing with the P2PW.
The first 12 months went really well, then out of nowhere Stare up and left. He said he had his reasons but then he came back. I lost a lot of respect that day. Ever since then I have wanted to face him and tonight I get my chance.”
Cactus pauses and takes in the panoramic view of the majestic playing field, he seems to be lost in thought.
Red“ God I love this place, but enough of that I need to focus on one thing and one thing only, Stare. Sure he has aligned himself with, after myself, the most sadistic bastard in professional wrestling Soul Reaper. But that is too little too late, tonight Stare faces me in a match of my own choosing, a desert death match. Basically it means the ring ropes will be there but around them will be a cage like this.”
Cactus reaches out of the cameras view and he pulls a section of the “cage” into view. It is basically sharp, spiky, pieces of metal welded together. It looks like a line of metal cacti. Cactus again motions of camera and 2 anfield stewards take the section of cage and place it in the goalmouth, one of them tosses a football to Cactus who places it on the penalty spot
Cactus“ Let me show you what will happen tonight. Stare, I am not a physic but I can predict your future, and Barry Bryant’s if he does not call the match right down the middle.”
Cactus takes a few steps back, then runs forward and kicks the football at the portion of the cage. An audible bang is heard, as the camera pans across, the football is burst and pinned to the cage.
Cactus“ See that Mr. Former general manager, that is what I will do with your head. I have no regard for my own body, I don’t need to show you scars or anything like that to prove how much pain I can handle, ask your bum-chum Reaper. He knows I can take my bumps and dish out punishment like nobody on the roster. But you seem to want nice simple matches, wrestling matches if you will, but will you bounce of the ropes if it is going to leave a little piece of your ass there? I know I will, but do you have the testicular fortitude to do that to yourself. That’s what you need to ask yourself before you even enter the ring. I will be there, waiting for you, and if you think you have a big enough set, come see me. Now hit the music."
The opening of “you’ll never walk alone” by Gerry and the Pacemakers comes over the grounds P.A system. Cactus is mouthing along with the words, as the song goes up in intensity Cactus leans back into the cage and the camera zooms into the spikes. If by magic drops of Cactus’s blood fall in time with the music leaving red patches on the green grass. The camera fades into one as the whole screen in filled with red.
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Post by Stare on Nov 28, 2006 22:49:13 GMT 1
This will now be open til Thursday.
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Post by Reaper on Nov 29, 2006 7:58:16 GMT 1
Spackle Soul Reaper Stare JT vs Diddly (I'm waiting to see what Dids can do) Ecos
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Post by Scream on Nov 30, 2006 2:51:24 GMT 1
Spackle Chilly Willy Cactus (flip of a coin) J.T. Ecos
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Post by Faster Pussycat! on Nov 30, 2006 10:23:17 GMT 1
[glow=red,2,300]"But know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown." [/glow] *Lightning crashes and thunder rolls, causing a harsh, negative image of the jagged and malicious canopy of our dark and lonely setting. Fog creeps through the vines and dangling branches of this notably horrible swamp. Toads croak, birds creak, and most everything else moans, pain and despair follow the viewers on their journey through this sticky, infectious bog. At last, or perhaps, alas, some shred of life is found, though this is a moot point. Enter, three hags, each covered in rags, each rotting in sight and smell, and each, oozing malignancy. The hags, the witches, circle around a glowing cauldron, who’s wicked stew lights the scene through the haze of smoke and fog, attacking the viewers’ already victim eyes. The witches, speaking evil incantations, orbiting the wicked pot, throw into it vile items. Unusual organs of trivial animals, odd trinkets from undesirables, and blood, ongoing blood. The cauldron bubbles and belches smoke, but the witches are distracted by a drum within. *Witch 1: A drum, a drum! Horror doth come. Witch 2: By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes. *Enter, NIN Horror and Spackle, atop horses, dressed like medieval times. A cloak’s hood covers NIN’s head, and the P2PW World Heavyweight Title belt rests around his waist. The belt shines threw the darkness, like a beacon of hope. NIN Horror: I haven’t seen such a day like this, so good yet so bad. Spackle: How far did you say is Manchester? Wait, what are these freaks, with their clothes so fucked up and old? Shit they don’t even look human. Are you alive? I know you can hear me, I see you covering your mouths. Well sluts? Wait, are you sluts? Your beards confuse me. NIN Horror: What are you things? Speak up, if you can. Witch 1: All hail NIN Horror, hail to thee, Champion of the CWA!
Witch 2: All hail NIN Horror, hail to thee, Champion of the P2PW!
Witch 3: All hail NIN Horror, hail to thee, Champion still hereafter!Spackle: Hey dude, what are you on? You address my good buddy with his great accomplishments, and with something he hasn’t done yet? If you can see the future, and know what’ll happen and shit, then tell me something. Witch 1: Hail!
Witch 2: Hail!
Witch 3: Hail!
Witch 1: Lesser than NIN, and greater.
Witch 2: Not so happy, yet much happier.
Witch 3: Thou shalt get champions, though thou be none; so all hail NIN and Spackle!
Witch 1: Spackle and NIN, all hail!NIN Horror: Stay here you weirdoes, and tell me more. I know I’m Champion of both the CWA and P2PW, but how will I retain the P2PW World title? With that insane Torture Chamber match in my immediate future, with such ambitious challengers. How do you know this? Or why have you stopped here in our path with these prophecies? Talk goddammit! *With this the witches and their stew vanish into a cloud of unnatural smoke. NIN and Spackle’s horses get frightened, but they pull the reigns and settle them. *Spackle: The ground has stormed up, like the water does, and they’ve went with it. Where did they go? NIN Horror: They went into the air, and what seemed real vanished like dust in the wind. Spackle: Was that real, did we really see that, or did we just smoke some bad granola a little while back? NIN Horror: In any case, we should keep going to Manchester, before an eight armed cheetah or something pops out at us. Spackle: Yeah, this is weird … I still can’t believe we didn’t just take an airplane or bus or something, I mean, London's not that far away. *They both chuckle, and then continue on their journey. Exeunt, as they do, black curtains fall onto the scene…
…The curtains arise revealing a darkened, castle room. It is empty except for a rug and a padded chair, illuminated by a beam of light coming through the only window, on the room’s right side. The camera focuses on the chair as the sound of a large opening door is heard in the background. NIN Horror enters the scene, sweeps back his cloak, and sits in the chair. He slowly slides the hood off of his head, showing his tied back bleached blond hair. NIN reaches to his back, unbuttons the P2PW World belt, and takes it off. NIN holds the belt up and looks into its faceplate. NIN sets the belt down on his lap, and rests his head on his fist, like the Thinking Man. The camera zooms up close on NIN’s face, with light only on his left side. NIN ponders to himself, aside to the camera. *NIN Horror: Two truths are told, I hold the CWA World Title, the most respected belt in the whole universe, and I do hold the P2PW World title, but how is it possible that I’ll overcome the hurdles that lay ahead of me? Just look at what’s on my plate, one of my challengers is a hungry young man looking to cement himself as the top competitor of this company, my other challenger is a man hungry for revenge, the very man I beat to win this crown. And most formidably is the stipulation in which I must defend my title, this so called ‘Torture Chamber’ match. A steel cage, with an electric current in five minute intervals? I don’t even have to be defeated to lose my title, no one, in fact, has to be defeated. And in a turn for the demented, the winner must be the first man to climb over the cage and make it to the floor. What a mad game this is. Surely, those wretched hags must’ve been mistaken. How could they predict my victory, such a feat must be impossible. Unless, it truly is fate, that it’s written in stone, but, there is no fate but what we make for ourselves. I must think, I must think, I must think for what all this means. *The camera zooms in even closer on NIN’s ever more concentrating face, until, suddenly, a look of ‘eureka!’ takes over his face. NIN exclaims… NIN Horror: Of coarse! *The camera suddenly pulls back to reveal NIN Horror dressed in a sharp white suit with a black shirt, inside a great big extravagant casino. The Title belt is back around his waist, partially covered by his jacket. NIN has a big smile on his face as a attendant walks by with a tray of drinks, NIN extends his arm and gets a martini, as another attendant walks by with a pack of 555 State Express cigarettes. NIN gets a cigarette, and the attendant lights it. He walks away as NIN takes a deep drag and a sip of his martini. He smiles once more, and begins walking through the casino. *NIN Horror: I know what they meant. You see, those hags probably didn’t see into the future, or predict anything really, I bet they weren’t even witches. Probably just some meth freaks tripping out in the woods. You see, there’s no mystery, there’s nothing magical, there’s nothing even questionable about what they said, because what they said is just what’s going to happen. Anyone, mystic or not, will tell you that I’m going over at Final Verdict. There’s no doubt about it, I’m going to win the match, I’m going to keep my title, and whether or not it’s really necessary, I’m going to beat my opponents, in every since of the word. I mean let’s face it, I’m NIN Horror, and my opponents, not that it matters anyway, are just Simz and SoundScream, like’s like Godzilla defending his King of the Monsters title against a pig and a bucket of water. And even if this was some kind of Bizarro World and my opponents could at least stand a chance against me, this garbage cage stipulation would not hurt my chances at all. The electrified cage does not scare me, it does not intimidate me, and the only way it affects my title defense is by causing me to spend the energy climbing out of it, instead of just placing my foot on my opponent to pin them. Scream, it seems that your attempts to thwart my have fallen again. You may have succeeded in making Simz shit his pants, but you’ve done nothing to me, besides giving me a legal excuse to kill you. *NIN takes another sip of his martini, and stops to lean against the end of a long row of slot machines. Many people are playing them as NIN inhales 555, and continues. *NIN Horror: Hmm hm, yes, there will be smoke, metaphorically, as in Simz’ and Scream’s careers going up in, and physically, as in burning flesh and organs. … Now, behind me you see a row of people gambling away their money. Coincidently, the Torture Chamber Title Match can be seen as a huge gamble for all involved. On one hand, you have Simz, risking his young career, and life even, for this coveted championship, on another hand, you have Scream, who made a gamble by deciding to make this the stipulation. He’s gambling his career, and life, for another shot at My Title, and for revenge. And then you have myself, who quite frankly isn’t gambling. Betting on me is like betting on a fixed horse race, that only has one horse in it. I risk nothing by stepping into a match with opponents who couldn’t beat me if God himself came down and hit me with a chair, and then tried to do a fast count on me. I risk nothing by stepping into a match with a hardcore stipulation that looks like child’s play compared to my history. The fact is, Simz and SoundScream are going all in on a bet where the house always wins, and I just happen to be that house. *NIN takes another sip, and starts walking again. *NIN Horror: So let’s look at my challengers, shall we. First up is Simz, here’s his background. In the weeks leading up to Sole Survivor, he and I made a deal where he’d help me win the World Title, not that I needed help anyway, and later I’d help him win the Chamber match. That was his plan, MY plan, the plan that we all saw unfold, was that I’d just sit back in my match until Simz came in and took out Scream, so I wouldn’t have to lift much a finger. And that’s it, that was my plan, and that dumb pawn Simz never saw it comin’. I played Simz for the fool he is because I knew he was the only TNT sap in the chamber dumb enough to fall for it. That’s one of the many flaws of Simz that one can exploit, I exploited his greenness. Simz is a young punk and a rookie, that’s why he fell for my trick. Simz is maybe two years out of training school, and I am nearly a twelve year vet, with twice that much experience. I have more knowledge in one of my atoms than Simz has in his whole body, and family’s as well. Simz in this match, has no hope. He is simply outmatched by one man, Scream, and could be wiped off the face of the earth by the other, me. Simz is in this match for a shot at my World Title, which alone is asinine, a shot at revenge on Scream for all the stuff leading up to this, and for revenge on me, for taking advantage of him at SS. But the tragedy of Simz is that he can’t realize that the only thing he has a chance of accomplishing is maybe getting back at Scream, taking my World Title, and getting revenge on me is impossible. Not just for Simz, but for everybody. I’ve killed men who wanted revenge for less, and I’ve killed men who were unfathomable more skilled than Simz. And if he so wishes, I will kill Simz at Final Verdict. In less than six minutes, Simz’ chances in the match, Simz’ career, and indeed, Simz’ life, will go up - in - smoke. *NIN exhales smoke at the camera lens, laughs, and takes a sip of his martini. NIN has walked to a sitting area, and sits down in a huge red chair. He sets his martini on a nearby table, and takes a hit from his cigarette before continuing.*NIN Horror: Then, we have SoundScream. I guess he’s been anxiously looking forward to this match since, August second. It’s a shame, really, I beat him to a bloody pulp at Sole Survivor, I beat him to a bloody pulp on every Blitz sine it, and for some reason he just keeps coming back for more. I wonder what his problem is, well, besides being an insignificant little gnat with a massive superiority complex, and who wrestles like a retarded fish in a bag of sand. By this point everyone should know what Scream wants in this match, that is, he wants to take my belt, and to get revenge on me for beating him, when I won said belt off him. But Scream, like Simz, needs to realize that he can accomplish neither of these. If I had to guess, not that I do, I’d bet that Scream feels really good about getting his wish by putting this match in an electrified cage. Now, I made SoundScream eat his words at SS, and I’m going to love turning this around on him at FV. You see, Scream made the mistake of trying to psych me out by making this some crazy, garbage-core match, given his history with garbage matches and all. The thing that Scream missed is the fact that I spent the beginning of my career in similar garbage matches. Scream must’ve missed the part where I’ve been in more numbers of extreme type matches than he has, or ever will be now, and he must’ve missed the part where I’ve been in more violent, more sadistic match types than he’s been in, or ever will be, now. You see, Scream’s little terror tactics have had zero effect on me, and even if Scream had more of an imagination, I still wouldn’t care what stip he added. Ya see, here’s what I think, personally, I suspect that Scream knows deep down inside himself that he can’t beat me. He knows that all the punishment his weak little mortal body has taken is finally coming back on him. I’d say he thinks that he only has a handful of matches left. But, and here’s where he’s wrong, he thinks that he can soften me up enough in this cage to give my next challenger a real advantage. The truth is, Scream really doesn’t have a prayer in this match. Scream can not hurt me, he can barely touch me, and in reality, I can put him into the ground with a single punch. You see, Scream made his Final Verdict when he decided to pursue a rematch. I am the Judge, Jury, and Executioner, and Scream’s sentence is in … at Final Verdict, I will give to Scream his own – fortunate – death. *NIN takes another hit, then gets his martini, and finishes it off. NIN leans back in the chair, smiles, and continues. *NIN Horror: So, what can everyone expect at this show? A good ‘ol Texas execution, a good ‘ol Texas bar-b-que, and the single greatest champion this poor fed has ever seen, put away his challengers as if they were nothing. But rest assured, while I will put very little effort into this match, the fans will not be disappointed. Contrary to what Scream said, the only way to survive this match is by not showing up, because Simz, Scream, if either of you two dregs shows up in that ring, in that cage .............. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzZAP! Make your Final Verdicts now, because if you step into that ring-that cage with me, then your career, your very lives, will go up – in - smoke. *NIN fiendishly smiles as the Black Curtains fall… [glow=blue,2,30] The scaffold is high, eternity near, She stands in the crowd, she sheds not a tear, But sometimes at night, when the cold winds moan, In a long black veil she cries o’er my bones.[/glow]
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Post by Simz on Nov 30, 2006 23:41:29 GMT 1
The scene opens to a large ball room. We are focused on a large golden, jewel encrusted chandelier in the center of the Victorian style room, from there the camera pans out to show the rest of the room. It shows large golden frames of old painting's of dukes and kings. We then finally see Simz, he is wearing a pitch black suit standing out against the cream and golden room. He has he hands clasps at his front as he admires a painting in from of him.
Simz Isn't there just something......something memorizing about this room. Here I stand in my home Derrmot manor! In the Royal Hall many of greatest events in Ireland during the 19th century happened in this room! Many of the greatest and proudest things in Irish history happened in this very spot!! Derrmot manor was the castle for the Derrmot dynasty of Irish Kings! Thats right, a long time ago Ireland was ruled by kings and I am a descendant of the most famous families in all of Ireland. I am of royal blood. I have always thought that it was what gave me the edge when it came to business. And it seems that at 19 it has now kicked in for the other great passion in my life...wrestling!
Simz paces across the room once again admiring his surroundings.
Simz In recent times things have really started to click together in the wrestling ring. I have overall matured as a performer, wrestler and a person. Simz is finally in THE main event. After all the years with the blood pack and what not I'm at the top of card facing the best there is to beat and so far well I haven't really beaten them. Oh yeah, thats right! Look back at what I've done in is this company and it counts for nothing as I've done nothing! Facing facts, this past year has been a huge cock up after cock up after cock up! It doesn't go for happy reading for the people that always thought that Simz was going to be a star, on TNT everything seemed to go wrong for the wounderkid of the wrestling world. I suddenly became the most 'overrated' wrestler ever to grace a P2PW ring, TNT was one hell of a nightmare.
Well here is reality, I'm now a blitz guy! It was a smart move if i ever made one as it has given me the chance to start over fresh! To give me a chance to forget about the childish and immature mistakes that I had made as a young boy! Because now with time and age a new Simz has been born! A new and better Simz! This Simz actually has an objective in his career and that is to become the World Champion! Because simply putting it, I want to be the best! I have 20 years ahead of me to become better, which is a scary thought to many a P2PW veteran! Actually on the theme of P2PW veterans, you know what I think of them? I despise them! They are the reasons why people like Aladdin, Reece Smothers and I are still getting the short end of the stick in this company! We are being held back by second rate wrestlers who just can't give up the limelight and believe that P2PW needs to 'stay the way it was'. You know who I'm talking about! I'm talking about jackasses like Soundscream!
Simz grits his teeth cracks his knuckles as he takes deep breaths.
Simz When I came to Blitz I was given a World title shot, mainly due to that fact that I wanted revenge on NIN Horror for what happened at Sole Survivor! Yet what does Soundscream demand? Another title shot even though NIN Horror kicked his ass a week before. Wait! Hold on one minute! NIN Horror didn't kick your ass, I did! How could I ever forget that! Scream, you have whined and complained about how it was 'unfair' of me to lay you out! Honestly you make me sick, your nearly as bad as Horror! He couldn't beat you so he got somebody who could do it for him, me. So I guess that makes me better than both of you? Nope wrong again, it seems that once again Simz is nothing more that a 'third party' in this match, an underdog if you will.
Simz smirks.
Simz Thats mainly because for once, this SOB has shut his mouth. I've just decided to stand back and watch you two idiots take hissy fits about each other. It's been highly amusing if i say so myself! That now has left me in the position I prefer and in recent times excelled in, with that said it seems that its a Torture chamber I've got to beat you two in! Hey I'm not worried, because I'm willing to take as many volts of electricity it takes for me to become World Champion. So Scream, Horror if you guys are thinking that ''it's only Simz'. Thats fine, because you guys are facing only Simz. But just remember that when it comes Sunday that it will be ''only Simz'' walking out of there World champion.
Simz smiles as he walks out of the shot.
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Post by Scream on Nov 30, 2006 23:50:06 GMT 1
"You sons of bitches. Give my love to Mother." Francis "Two Gun" Crowley, executed in electric chair, 2006 The scene opens in a dark cement room. One light bulb sways overhead barely giving off any light. There is a man sitting in a chair. The man is strapped to the chair with belts that cross his chest, groin, legs, and arms. A metal skullcap-shaped electrode is attached to his scalp and forehead over a moistened sponge. The camera pans to a large sheet of glass. Behind the glass are a man, woman, and Scream. Scream is watching as the man in the electric chair is being prepped. The woman in the room occasionally pulls out her handkerchief and blows her nose as the man consoles her.
One of the members of the execution team then places an additional electrode moistened with a conductive jelly to a portion of the prisoner's leg that has been shaved to reduce resistance to electricity. The prisoner is then blindfolded.Scream looks at the cameraScream Blindfolded before his demise. How unfortunate. On the other hand, would you rather not see how you go? I guess that’s a question Simz and NIN are pondering right now. Will they see their own demise at Verdict? Two members of the execution team withdraw to the observation room. The warden appears and one of the executioners makes his way to the power supply switch.Warden: ladies and gentlemen tonight we say farewell to Francis Crowley. For your crimes a greater power as laid down your final verdict. In approximately 10 minutes, a jolt of between 500 to 2,000 volts will flow through your body and rid you of your sins. Before we cleanse you of your sins, do you have any last words?Scream watches intently as do the two people in the room. Francis Crowley- You sons of bitches. Give my love to Mother. The warden shakes his head and gives the signal. The executioner pulls the handle and Francis grips the chair. His limbs shake violently as he defecates all over himself. His skin turns a bright red as an eyeball slips under the blindfold and rests on his cheek. Steam and smoke rise and there is a smell of burning. The man and woman both get up and exit as Scream still watches, jaw dropped.The executioner drops the switch and two members check the body. Executioner: He’s cooked warden. Warden: let em cool boys. Scream rubs his hands over his eyes and then down his face. He leans forward in his seat resting his elbows on his thighs. He is fixated on Francis. Scream: Shit. Just when you thought you saw it all… Scream runs his hands over his face again and then looks up at the camera Scream: That’s enough. Turn that damn camera off. *camera goes black*The scene opens again. This time down the street from the M.E.N. arena in Manchester, England. Scream is seen bundled in a grayish black pea coat with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He is standing outside an arcade watching two kids playing Mortal Kombat. One of the kids jerks the joystick quickly to the left then presses two buttons; he lifts his hands as “FATALITY” is heard from the machine. The kid then stares at Scream.Kid: Hey mister, want to play? Scream: sorry kid I have another game to play. Kid: Do you at least have a quarter I can have? Scream checks his pockets and pulls out a quarter.Scream: Last one kid. The kid takes it and puts it in the machine as another boy comes up to play. Scream zips his coat up to his neck and begins walking towards the arena.Scream: Game indeed. However, my game started a while ago. In fact my game started a little over two years ago with Mick. My first match at P2PW was a ferocious battle but in fact a loss. Nevertheless, the game was far from over. We battled again. This time I was victorious. And so the game began. The Decepticons were formed. Myself, Trent and Tyler Stone were a thorn in the side here at P2PW. Through our efforts we all attained greatness in one form or another. I attaining the greatest of all prizes but that is later in the game. The Decepticons split and I climbed the ladder battling headliners, main eveners. I had my feuds with Shinn’s Theory, Stare, Soul Reaper. The best of the best. LEVEL 2 (June 2005 Momentum) Doubters? I had many. I received my first shot at a title. The International Title against Cactus. I was supposed to end up like many that faced Cactus. A torn, bloodied wreck of my former self. But instead I shocked the world and defeated Cactus and became the International Champion. Level 3 (September 2005 WRESTLEFEVER 2) The biggest stage of them all, in fact match of the year. Soul Reaper and I in a first ever Broken Home match. The outcome wasn’t so great for me. I lost my title and almost my career. I was told I would never walk again. Level 4 BLITZ! Breakdown Match (10 man over the top rope battle royal for World Title) The stage was set. Nine of the best in the company were in one ring. Again, I wasn’t expected to win. But in the end I was the last man standing. I was the only man in that ring and I received my prize, the World Title. I won that title and held onto it longer than anyone in history. Not the infamous Soul Reaper. Not the “up and comer” j-man but Scream. I was the top dog until….. Level 5 August 2006 Sole Survivor (I quit match) Some say I was overconfident. But that is something I have always possessed, confidence. And why shouldn’t I. Some say I was screwed. Was I screwed? YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT I WAS AND BY SOME NOBODY NAMED SIMZ. YOU COST ME MY DAMN TITLE. NOT ONCE DID I MUTTER THE WORDS I QUIT, I NEVER SAID IT….but you did Ninny’s bidding. You were the hit man and I took the hit. When I came to my senses I saw the unthinkable. I saw NIN with my title around his waist. My title reign was over. G A M E O V E R (1 credit to continue) Scream: And I’m all out of quarters. “Hey Mister” The kid from the arcade comes running up.Kid: I beat that kid pretty bad. Here’s your quarter back. The kid hands Scream the quarter. Scream looks at it in his palm and then grips it. He places it in his pocket. He looks up as he has reached his destination the M.E.N. arena. He looks at the marquee as it scrolls the card for Final Verdict.Level 6 (November 2006 Final Verdict) Some say that was the end of my run. But I say when that time comes and it sure isn’t anytime soon. I have a quarter in my pocket and I’m continuing on to Final Verdict. BOSS ONE SIMZ “The Greatest One Man Show on Earth” Tale of the tape: 6’4, 245 lbs from Ireland Scream: Simz, I couldn’t have been happier when you were traded from TNT to Blitz! because if you weren’t traded I would have infiltrated TNT and hunted you down like the coward you are. You claim to be “The Greatest One Man Show on Earth?” That is hysterical, especially coming from you. Your show was so great they kicked you off TNT. You big Irish idiot, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You can plan and plot with NIN all you want but nothing, AND I MEAN NOT A GODDAMN THING WILL STOP ME FROM GETTING MY TITLE BACK. And the best is yet to come. You both couldn’t get the job done at Blitz! I won and I chose a match that has never graced a wrestling ring. Not only is it a steel cage, which I excel in but it’s an electric steel cage. You have the luck of the Irish? Looks like your luck just ran out. I will make it a personal vendetta to make sure you get the holy hell shocked out of you. Simz, party time is over. Maybe you should just stay in “Simz City.” Get in your “Simzmobile,” take a drive down “Simz Lane,” or snap into a “Simz Jim.” I could careless. You stuck your nose in the wrong mans business. After Verdict you won’t be know as Simz…more like Singed. BOSS TWO “The New Horror Show” NIN Horror Tale of the tape: 6’1, 210lbs from Ft. Worth TX, by way of Transylvania Scream: The Final Showdown. The last stage of the game. The champion. I hope you are enjoying your vodka or whatever it is you drink now a days. They said you were good, they were right. You must have been good to beat me the way you did. Pulled the wool right over my eyes. Hell, bringing Simz in to take me out is something I would have done back in the day as well. But tonight there is no “outside man.” There is no escape from me. It was very cute what you did at Blitz! Leaving your partner to get mauled by Cactus and I. But it was your mistake. You see you should have never let me have the opportunity of winning that match. Not only did I win but I got to choose the most electrifying match in P2PW history. Ever see a man fry Ninny? I have and it’s not pretty. In fact it’s down right disgusting. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. This game ends tonight. One way or another I will show you why I have been called the most ruthless s.o.b. that has ever graced this company. You have something that belongs to me and I am coming to get it. Ever since you stepped foot in this company you have urinated all over what many have worked hard to establish. Tonight, right at the opportune time, as the clock ticks down and the fans count 3...2...1...I’ll make sure to toss you into that cage. And we’ll watch you urinate again, this time on yourself. Ninny, Simz, welcome to my own little horror show. Lights, camera, action! Tonight I take back what is mine, tonight I get my revenge, TONIGHT I LAY DOWN YOUR FINAL VERDICTS. It’s game time gentlemen. Bring your bag of quarters, bring your sense of pride cause when the night is over your asses will be fried. Camera fades to black.
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Post by Scream on Dec 1, 2006 3:08:13 GMT 1
Is this thread locked....
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Post by Spackle on Dec 1, 2006 3:15:25 GMT 1
Christ I hope not.
“Quotes are for cunts with nothing interesting to say themselves.” -Spackle
(The scene opens on a men’s room sign on an extravagant wooden doorway. The camera pushes past the door, and the first thing it sees is a set of pink dreadlocks hopping up and down in front of it. Spackle is wearing a fancy white tuxedo, with a green under shirt. He’s balancing on one foot, hopping when necessary and digging at the sole of one of his tattered shoes with a Popsicle stick. The stick breaks, and Spackle throws it off angrily.)
Spackle: Fucking horse shit!
(Spackle finally notices the camera, and uses it to vent his frustrations.)
Spackle: “We’ll ride horses to Manchester.” He says. “The whole fucking island is only two miles long,” he says. It took six goddamn days. Six days passing by the same old field, inhabited by the same old mad cow, and sleeping in the cold nasty houses of dead people. Then I go and pop my fucking nuts riding that disgusting, stinking mule. And don’t even get me started on the stupid horse.
(Spackle goes and kicks the door to a restroom stall in. He then takes a moment to breathe, and looks back at the camera.)
Spackle: But at least I’m here. Sure, I may never have heard of this city before, but at least I get to stomp on the teeth of a traveling minstrel show.
(Spackle relaxes a bit, then past the camera and out of the bathroom. The camera runs after, following him into a casino, the same one that NIN was in during his previous promo. Spackle grabs a drink off the tray of a passing cocktail waitress, downs it in one gulp, olive, toothpick and all, and drops the glass, which breaks on the ground. He continues through the casino, stopping to scrape his feet on the carpet. He walks all the way through, and emerges at the entrance/exit, the camera right behind. It’s a cold English night, and despite being a big city, theirs no one walking the streets. Spackle stops, takes a deep breath, and watches the freezing air emerge from his mouth. He turns and looks at the camera.)
Spackle: I was hoping to get away from the moody atmosphere. Too many empty threats have been made in fake settings lately. A church, a ball room, a goddamn arcade. The middle of the fucking woods. Stupid shit eating horse. But I guess this anonymous city is bursting with so much symbolism, you can’t escape the moody broody attitude of it all. Or at least the people who write the scripts all these tools are using can’t. Oh well. Why dwell on the past and the monkeys who inhabit it? I came out onto this calm, dark, moody street to discuss J’s future, or the lack thereof.
(Spackle starts walking down the street, the camera staying at his side, catching his profile the whole way.)
Spackle: Now, I like to think I’m as accepting as the next guy, I was taught only to see skin color when a car stereo was involved, but J is really making me see black people in a new light, or, once again, the lack thereof. When I realized this, I thought to myself, “Super, I’m racist. Another reason people can hate me.” And while the latter is certainly true, I’ve discovered that I’m anything but racist. I hate ol’ J-Crow for sure, but I also hate that fucking Mick cunt Simz, as well as that egotistical prick sandy over on TNT, all the way down to the lowest rungs where trash like TJ, that deteriorating Brit cactus and that other minstrel melon head hang out. I hate just about anyone who doesn’t have a warm inviting crack between their knees and Ninny. J just likes pushing his problems onto others. He can’t face the fact that I was the one to beat him, I was the one who ended his pathetic little streak against those string of nobodies, that when his balls finally dropped and he decided he could take on a higher level, he got those balls kicked right back up into his stomach. Those nuts finally found their way back down, but just far enough that he’ll attack me with a chair while my back is turned. Well, this time I’ll make sure to mash ‘em in till their hanging out of his mouth, and he’ll crawl back into his hidey-hole and maybe, MAYBE, he’ll realize that I’m better then him and he’ll curl up and die there. Fucking waste of my time. Management just wants me to end their grief with this guy, seeing as he’ll sue if someone doesn’t wipe his ass and open the door for him. Their the real racists, seeing as they want me, a spiteful white man, to whip on this uppity, loud-mouthed “ne-gro.”
(Spackle pauses, then walks back the way he came.)
Spackle: I’ve decided I haven’t had nearly enough to drink, and haven’t lost enough euros to this godforsaken place. Make sure J sees this, so he knows theirs no gimmicks, no scripts, just an annoyed pink-haired asshole who’s going to step on his throat, humiliate and beat him. But I won’t kill him, I don’t want to get my suit dirty. I’ll leave that one to him.
(The camera stops and watches Spackle walk off. The scene closes on the back of his pink head.)
Spackle Chilly Willy Cactus Diddly Squat Ben Jenkins
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Post by The Great JT on Dec 1, 2006 4:48:29 GMT 1
It should've been locked almost two hours ago.
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Post by Reaper on Dec 1, 2006 5:05:24 GMT 1
The shot opens up to Soul Reaper's dressing room... the camera pans around and theres nobody there... the camera pans back around to the table... theres a note.
"I Left, I'll be back some other time, but it doesn't really matter anyways. Consider this promo slot open, considering I won't be there for filming today. If you have a problem with it... Well TOO FUCKIN BAD. Now piss off, before I get back or I'll snap your neck.
I'm Soul Reaper, Bitch!"
The camera man comes up and then turns and heads out the door.. he can be heard quite clearly saying..."Goddamned ego maniac..." and the seen ends.
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Post by Reaper on Dec 1, 2006 5:06:17 GMT 1
I don't give a shit if that counts or not. Its good for storyline purposes either way the match goes. And now since Stare was unavailable... this is locked.
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Post by Stare on Dec 3, 2006 5:32:55 GMT 1
As always on Blitz!, the thread is available for promos until it is locked. If someone happens to be late locking it . . . oops, our bad, not yours.
Sorry for not being around. Betwen the girlfriend and losing the net a couple of days, just havent been able to. I'd like to apologize to Cactus also.
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