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Thread: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

  1. #1
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    Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Post promos for Red, White and Bruised in this thread. All promos are due by Sunday, July 20 at midnight Pacific time/Monday, July 21 at 3 a.m. Eastern time and 8 a.m. British time.

    No extensions. Good luck everyone. Let's make this show awesome!

  2. #2
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Drew, "I'm sorry but I can't…"

    Opening up in a very lavish living room, the beautiful white painted walls really standout and bring some light into the room. There are paintings aligned along the wall that cost thousands of dollars, which shows that Mr. Stevenson, your North American Champion most certainly has a lot of money. As he sits on the on the white leather couch which matches the room, we can see him mouthing "I'm sorry but I can't" as the video that plays on his big screen, high-definition TV was Gabrielle shooting down Ashley's marriage proposal. Obviously knowing that the cameras are rolling, he glimpses over at it with a huge smirk stretched on his face as he is clearly getting ready to rub salt in the already opened wound of Ashley O'Ryan.

    Drew,
    "Hey there buddy, how are you feeling?"

    Speaking in a much softer tone, it was clear as day that he was doing nothing more than sarcastically asking Ashley how he was doing after he knows exactly the answer. Keeping that very arrogant smile stretched along his handsomely chiseled face, he continues to speak as he has a lot to say about his upcoming match up at Red, White and Bruised.

    Drew,
    "It seems that things are just not going well for you, doesn't it Ashley? I mean, you ask Gabrielle to marry you and she shoots you down and the funny part about that Ashley? Is she didn't even really have to think about it, she just did it. Doesn't that concern you?"

    Asking a straight up question, he knows that Ashley will never answer it but he does know that it will get into his head. As the camera is focused on the face of Drew Stevenson, we can still see the video playing in the background as he has it on loop which means that it is playing over and over and over again.

    Drew,
    "I hope for your sake that it doesn't Ashley because if you come to that ring, MY ring with your head anywhere else but in our match? You better believe that is a one way ticket right out here and straight to another loss being added to your record. But let's be honest, it's not like you're overly surprised-I mean, you are used to hearing the words "I can't" and after Red, White and Bruised? You're going to believe the words "I can't" as I embed it into your memory to the point that you will never, ever forget!"

    With the smile quickly fading, he sits there with his hands clasped together and his dark brown eyes staring into the camera, a story getting ready to be told between these two men.

    Drew,
    "Disappointment is something that you will become accustomed to Ashley because it all started last week on Fight Night and it will roll over into our match, you have my word on that!"

    Nodding his head up-and-down to really get his point across, the look on his face showed nothing but pure raw intensity, nothing but determination and passion that has not been seen in quite a while here in the FWA. Never taking his eyes off the camera, he continues to speak.

    Drew,
    "Let's face the facts Ashley; you're not the same man that you was even last year. Somewhere along the line, you lost your smile, you lost that edge and you lost that fighting spirit that you had. I mean, hell, you went from being what-an FWA heavyweight champion to getting bombed like Pearl Harbor. But if you think that's going to change at Red, White and Bruised then keep thinking and keep dreaming because if you thought those bombs that you had were bad? Wait until you step into that ring against me and I nuke the hell out of you."

    Suddenly showing signs of annoyance, you could tell that he was not thrilled that these old guys, these legends continued to try grabbing at his ankles to be relevant once again.

    Drew,
    "Oh yeah Ashley, don't forget to tell everybody how you think that I "wine, cry, bitch, moan, and complain" because that is the only ammunition that you and seemingly everybody else who steps into that ring has against me. Or maybe you will pull my favorite one and say how I haven't broken through that glass ceiling yet. I sure hope that you do Ashley because that shows just how ignorant that you are because I know you haven't forgotten, hell, I know the world hasn't forgotten that the last time you and I faced a one-on-one? I kicked your ass! I whooped your ass all the way up to the North Pole, down to the South Pole, we took a stop at Timbuktu and then we rounded all the way back to the FWA where I pinned your shoulders to that canvas for the..."

    Stretching out his pinky first, it was a way to reiterate the one count.

    Drew,
    "... One..."

    Stretching out the finger right next to his pinky, he continues to speak.

    Drew,
    "… Two…"

    Now bringing out his middle finger along with the other two, he did not miss a single beat.

    Drew,
    "… THREE!!!"

    Stopping to take a split second breather, he lowers his fingers back into his hand clenching a fist as he has clearly gotten his point across.

    Drew,
    "Oh yeah Ashley, this pay-per-view is billed as "the future has arrived" and you can bet your ass is exactly what is going to happen. Names like you Ashley? I can admit that you have done a lot for this business, I can admit that you were great in your prime but that's just it-you're no longer in your prime and I don't take too kindly to people like you trying to cling and clutch onto their former glory but you already knew that Ashley because I have made it crystal clear exactly how I feel to the world and I almost feel like I can never stress it enough because here you are, getting a shot at MY North American championship and when I look around Ashley? I see nothing but the old, I see a bunch of guys and even a couple of girls running around here hoping and praying that they will be as good as they was years ago but that's simply not the case and *I* am going to prove that when I beat you again and shatter every single hope and dream of you becoming the North American Champion."

    With his voice having risen, it was clear that he was fired up, he was ready to step into that ring right now and face Ashley but he had to wait. With his breathing very heavy and methodical, it reveals perfectly that he is highly fired up and quite possibly angered.

    Drew,
    "Basically Ashley, you are the stupid little engine that could believing that you can and will beat me but I am exactly what you heard at Fight Night this past week and you know those words all too well Ashley, repeat it with me though…"

    Smiling arrogantly, he continues to speak just rubbing it right and Ashley's face.

    Drew,
    "… *I* CAN'T! *I* CAN'T! *I* CAN'T!"

    Yelling it repeatedly, he brought his arms out almost as if to cheer for himself as he knows firsthand that when Ashley steps into that ring against him? He's going to be in for the beating of his life, he's going to have every hope and dream taken away from him just like Gabrielle stripped him of his pride last week.

    Drew,
    "Love me or hate me Ashley, you know better than anybody else that if this were a fight? If this were a good old-fashioned boxing match? I have you on the ropes and don't try to tell me that you are playing that rope a dope crap because if you do? You can flat out guarantee, as God as my witness I will beat you to the state of mental retardation just like Muhammad Ali."

    Showing a very feisty look again, he stands up from his couch while almost yelling at the camera.

    Drew,
    "Oh yeah Ashley, you can thank me later because there will be no more suffering on your end. You won't remember Gabrielle telling you no, you won't remember me beating your ass to retain my North American championship and just like you always do-you can hit that bottle, you can suck down all of that liquor and forget every single ounce of pain that has happened to you because more pain is on the way Ashley and if you thought that Gabrielle ripping your heart out of your chest and stomping on it was bad? Wait until you see what I have in store for you..."

    Pausing only momentarily, his dark brown eyes narrow as he stares holes into the camera-if looks could kill? Ashley who's watching on the other end would officially be dead.

    Drew,
    "… I am going to be the man who ends Ashley O'Ryan because you don't have the "big and bad" and I use that term loosely Stu in your corner to protect you this time. Oh trust me, I didn't forget about the tag match and I know you will bring it up but go ahead-every single person knows that I'm not a tag team wrestler, they know that I rely on myself and ONLY myself in order to get the job done. You see Ashley; unlike you I don't need a tag team partner. I don't need somebody to hold my hand and guide me through the darkness because you will find out very, VERY soon that *I* am the darkness! Every single bad thing and little problem that you're having in your life right now? That is because you're stepping into the ring against me, you're trying to defy the odds and you're trying to survive the Grim Reaper but that's not going to happen Ashley."

    Shaking his head from side to side, he continues to speak without ever pausing.

    Drew,
    "This North American championship right here?"

    Leaning over, he grabs the North American championship from off of the arm of the couch as he holds it tightly in his right hand and up to the camera where Ashley can see it crystal clear.

    Drew,
    "It belongs to me and if you think that you're going to be a "can Guy"? You're going to learn real fast that you will never again be nothing more than an "I can't" guy because I am going to exploit your every weakness. I am going to be the blueprint that every single person looks at when they want to beat you and I am going to be the very person that makes you drink harder than ever because I am going to make you drown your sorrows in booze and *I* am going to rip away every single thing that you believe in."

    Pausing for only a moment, he slings the North American championship up onto his shoulder as the beautiful golden faceplate glistens under the lighting. Looking as serious as a heart attack, he breaks the tension with a very arrogant smile-one that he has been known for his entire career.

    Drew,
    "Don't hate me Ashley; I am not the one who put you in this predicament. Hate everything else around you because they are the ones that want to see you fail and at Red, White and Bruised? You have my word that you are going to fail Ashley. There is not a force in this world that is going to help you beat me, there is no God in this world that is going to give you enough power to stop me and you're going to watch as I walk out of that ring with the North American championships still in my grasp and one step closer to becoming the FWA heavyweight champion of the world."

    Nodding his head very confidently, the camera pans out a little bit as we see Mr. Sterling step into view. Placing his right hand on Drew's shoulder, he embraces him and knows that he is in fact the soon to be world champion as you can hear it in his voice as he wraps this promo up.

    Mr. Sterling,
    "Love him or hate him? Even you know that's the truth Ashley, you know that this man right here-my client is one rung away from becoming the best and through your blood and sacrifice Ashley? He is going to finally get the opportunity that he deserves and that is a one on one match with the FWA world heavyweight champion and as good as you are and as great as you was? You're not good enough to stop him so accept the truth, embrace what all Mr. Stevenson offers and then and only then will you finally see the light."

    With both men smiling arrogantly, they extend their hands out and wave goodbye to the camera and to Ashley's dream of becoming the North American Champion once again.

    Fade to black!

  3. #3
    BEATRIXX BLACK
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    PROLOGUE

    Very strangely, it had been a few days since anyone had heard anything from Beatrixx Black. The woman with a constant media presence and a fanatical need for attention was being oddly quiet and that was far more unsettling than all the noise she usually made. Rumours had begun to spread about her by the time Red, White ‘n Bruised came around and people were starting to speculate as to whether Beatrixx’s toxin-addled brain had forgotten she was an FWA wrestler altogether. These rumours were silenced though in an unsurprisingly unusual fashion. With none of her usual handheld promos being released in the days up to the pay-per-view, the fans should’ve been expecting something as they filed into the arena for the event. However, as the sky shone a deep blue and day was just turning to night, fans flocked to the arena knowing nothing of Beatrixx Black. That is until a huge portion of the crowd had to scream and dive out of the way as a black pickup truck started driving slowly through the crowd, parting them effortlessly. Eventually the car slowed to a stop and the headlights blared, creating a spotlight dead in front of the car. A space cleared and a woman crawled out of the driver’s seat window, dressed in black pants and with X’s made of black tape covering each nipple. Of course, this woman was Beatrixx Black, and as she sprawled herself onto the hood of her car and slid down into the white lights shining out into the crowd, she looked as mad and inelegant as ever.


    BEATRIXX BLACK: WOLF IN THE HEADLIGHTS

    She initially hunched over as a camera rushed to locate her, evidently charged with filming this bizarre publicity stunt. As the cameraman got within a couple of inches of Beatrixx, she pushed him away violently, suddenly springing into life. Considering Beatrixx is not only a competitor but a challenger for the Women’s Championship tonight, she has easily gotten a crowd with her elaborate entrance. They form a ring around the circle created by the headlights and stretch out into the distance, with everyone craning to get a look at Beatrixx. She couldn’t be more delighted by this as she laughs for a few seconds before beginning her promo.

    ”Okay babies here how it gon’ be, Beatrixx Black be out celebratin’ prematurely, ya’ll know? She been all over town celebratin’ the god damn fact that afta tonight she gon’ be the women’s champion, okay? So I ain’t got time fo’ all yo shit goin’ “awww where ma beatrixx promo? Ah wanna see mah princess!” Well guess what babies here it is, ya’ll wanna know what this sensation gotta say, huh? Ya’ll wanna know?”

    There is a scattered shout of approval matched by boos, although most people are simply standing in shock. Unphased, almost encouraged by the scared response, Beatrixx simply laughs and carries on with what she’s saying.

    ”Well here’s what babies, here’s what ya’ll crave...ya’ll know I’m walkin’ out the Women’s Champion, yeah? ‘cos Bee know that that’s what ya’ll want. Ya’ll are sicka Saddle Sally and her lil cowgirl booty shakin’ roun’ the ring and ya’ll damn sure sicka Dinorah Redgrave an’ her god damn drama, am I right? Yeah...ya’ll wan’ summin’ new...ya’ll wan’ summin’ fresh...am’ summin’ fresh babies and ya’ll know it...thass why ya’ll can’t get enough. Ya’ll wan’ change and this bitch righ here Bee Black, she gon’ give it to ya.”

    At this point something catches Beatrixx’s eye: a mother covering the eyes of her two young children, one boy and one girl, and leading them away from this violent exhibitionist. Beatrixx immediately recognises this as an opportunity for mischief and lurches towards them.

    ”Hey yo baby, where ya goin’?!”

    Beatrixx throws her arm out and grabs the middle-aged mother around the waist, pulling her in close to her and causing her to shriek. The children turn round in shock and Beatrixx addresses them directly.

    ”Aww...lil kiddies...who ya’ll cheerin’ for in the match tonight huh? Ya’ll wan’ see Saddle Sally? Ya’ll wan’ see her dance and hold that pretty lil championship up high again?”

    The children nod as much as they can, petrified in fear as they are. This is the response that Beatrixx was hoping for and she gives the children a sick grin.

    ”Weeelll, ah think thass rude. Ah know ya’ll like Saddle Sally an all but ah think ya’ll should be supportin’ yo family. Oh...you lil kiddies didn’ know? Am yo new mommy!”

    Beatrixx then moves her head away from the children’s mother and violently leans in, locking lips with the married woman and sticking her tongue down her throat until she manages to pull away. The crowd are shocked even further by this and begin shouting in horror at Beatrixx, causing her to laugh and pull away, leaving the mother to hurry away with her children in tow. Beatrixx stalks her way around the edges of the circle, making moves towards various members of the public who dare to speak out against her. As she does so she continues to rail on both her opponents.

    ”Awww whass wrong bitches, ya’ll been playin’ it safe too long? Thass it? Ya’ll wanna keep where ya’ll feel comfy. Ya’ll wanna keep wi’ safe lil Saddle Sally even though last week this bitch right here DDT’ed the shit outta her and left her layin’ on her back. So this time? I’mma do the same thing, I’mma knock her on her back an’ if she lucky I’mma make her fucking eat me out, ya’ll know? Aww, sorry ‘bout ma language ya’ll, guess I jus’ don’t give a fuck.”

    Beatrixx steps back carefully, away from the crowd and towards the car. Then, akin to a police officer trying to appear casual to appear to youths, Beatrixx hops up onto the hood of the car. However then, unlike a police officer, she performs the splits over the length of the hood and continues to deliver her promo as if any of this is normal.

    ”But naa, ya know what? Bee does give a fuck. Thass right, like it or not I give a fuck about all ya’lls. Do any of ya’ll really wanna see that same ol’ shit? Ya’ll wanna see plain ol’ down home country Saddle Sally, aka the best of the shitty situation they called the women’s division befo this bitch showed up? Or even worse, do ya’ll really wan’ the title on Dinorah Redgrave? Wit’ all her grandstandin’ an’ all her big tough talk ‘bout jus’ how badass she is. Naaa...I don’ think ya’ll do. I think ya’ll sicka that. No doubt. I think ya’ll...I think ya’ll wanna change. Ya’ll wanna new women’s division...and that means ya’ll want the ol’ one dead. Ya’ll wan’ someone...to burn that shit to the ground.”

    The crowd, instantly concerned given Beatrixx’s track record of headline-grabbing insanity, instantly tense up as she slides off the car again and saunters around the side to the passenger seat. She opens the door...and pulls out a can of gasoline. The crowd gasp in horror. Beatrixx laughs and mutters to herself.

    ”Oh shit yeah ya’ll gonna wanna move back! Ya’ll think so? Dumb fucks...”

    Beatrixx then clambers up onto the car once more, but this time she stands up on the hood and steps onto the roof of the pickup truck.

    ”This is the fuckin’ end times bitches! This is the end o’ the women’s division as you know it, and it gon’ be buried wit’ Saddle Sally and Dinorah Pussystank Redgrave! Ya’ll hear that! Well now ya’ll gon’ see this!”

    Beatrixx begins pouring gasoline all over the truck, coating the entire chassis in the clear, flammable liquid.

    ”YA’LL FUCKIN’ BITCHES BETTER PREPARE TO BURN!”

    Beatrixx then jumps off the roof of the car, landing sloppily before stumbling forward. She reaches in the crotch of her pants and pulls out matches. The crowd, now almost entirely scattered and screaming, can’t help but look back as they run and see Beatrixx lighting the match...and throwing it behind her. The car goes up in flames! Rather than looking away, Beatrixx spins around to watch the car go up in smoke and be consumned by the fire. Although it doesn’t explode like in films, it is still an awe-inspiring sight to watch the manic Beatrixx Black cackle and jump with glee until she is tackled to the ground by arena security and local police.

    As the news of what happened quickly spreads throughout the fans, more questions start to arise as to Beatrixx’s appearance at the pay-per-view than those that were being asked before the whole incident. But everyone knows that is exactly what she wanted. From the woman who was the victim of an unrequested makeout session to the hundreds watching to the thousands who heard the news second hand, the name on the lips of everyone walking into the arena for Red, White ‘n Bruised would be Beatrixx Black. If she was truly about to burn the women’s division to the ground as she said she was going to do, the word of mouth certainly suggested that she would then be the one to rise from the ashes as champion.

    BEATRIXX BLACK: THE FREAKY WOMEN'S CHAMPION OF THE FWA

  4. #4
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    "Please don't climb the ladder, Adrian. You'll hurt yourself."


    "Don't worry, mom. I'll be OK."


    Yeah. Sure. A common response from kids, right? The stubborn qualities stand out as the future generation of adults explore this place we call "the world." They climb things. Touch things. Talk to things. They are eager beings, these kids, and all they want to do is experience life. There's nothing wrong with that, but within this quest and thirst for exploring, they don't yet know the difference between something safe and something harmful. A gun fires bullets. A snake bites. Electricity outlets shock. An oven plate burns.

    And ladders fall.

    This little Adrian climbs up one ladder rung. No harm on this mild spring afternoon with a slight breeze in a beautiful, quaint outdoor setting. Electric tools, hammers, drills, construction workers. All of the peaceful noises associated to a day like this, with the clouds blocking the sun's rays while uncovering just enough of a clear blue sky to make one enjoy being outside. It's a busy street, with hundreds of people walking in each direction on the sidewalks, which run parallel to one another on either side of the road. Cars zip past the commotion without pause or a second thought to a potential falling ladder, and a kid being flung onto the pavement and in harm's way. These mindless drones head to, or from, whatever their destination is for the afternoon.

    The mother is busy navigating through the crowd while trying to keep her son, Adrian, by her side. Yet, he became temporarily obsessed with this ladder. The 3-year-old, able to walk and climb but not yet experienced in rare objects to do so on, is at that age where everything is exciting and interesting. If he can touch it without being burned, then he will climb it.

    This ladder is old, but that's all you need to know. As Adrian steps up the second rung, it bounces from one leg to the other. The legs are grossly uneven and Adrian feels the unsteady object jolt an inch to the right. He isn't fazed, and climbs the third rung. The fourth rung. A couple pedestrians notice his quest in passing, smile at the mischievous boy, and continue on with their day.


    "Adrian, why didn't you listen to me?"


    The mother's aggravation is noticeable, but that annoyance turns to fear soon enough. Adrian reaches the fifth rung, and then the sixth, the top rung with the warning label urging people not to stand on this spot due to the lack of arm support. Adrian lets go of the ladder's sides, stands upright and reaches his arms in the air with the biggest smile possible as more and more pedestrians smile while walking by. As Adrian shouts, "Mom, look at me!" his body looses a bit of its initial caution from standing without holding onto anything, and the ladder bounces again on its uneven legs. Adrian's already-unsteady balance gives in, and he falls forward. His upper body is nearly adjacent to the top rung while his feet slip off the edge and eventually are completely in mid-air, just like the rest of his body.

    As he's falling, his mother makes a long leap in her fearful stride and reaches out her arms to catch her son. She falls, and Adrian lands on top of her. Some of the pedestrians notice what happened and help the mom and her son up from the pavement.


    "Are you OK, ma'am?"


    "Yes, I'm fine. Are you OK, Adrian?"


    "Yes, mom, I'm OK."


    "I told you not to climb it, Adrian. Why does this always happen?"


    "I'm sorry, mom. I thought I could stand on it."


    "When will you ever learn, Adrian."


    The next comment from her mouth is the most truthful thing anyone has ever said in a mother-son relationship, or any sort of guardian relationship, for that matter. Yet, it's something so many people — young and old, kids and adults — still take for granted.






    "I know what's best for you"



    The building stands out for its brick foundation. They color the front of the small, fat building around two awnings, stairs, bottom-floor and top-floor windows. Trees stand off to the right of the driveway/parking lot for the double duplex layout. Black cats roam the front of the building, and one has a dead mouse hanging from its mouth as it slips through the narrow hole on the side and sneaks under the house.

    The summer weather is misleading, just like the building's apparent vacancy. Clouds fill the sky and offer a slight breeze through the trees, with birds chirping in the unnoticeable warm weather. The sun's rays are blocked by the clouds, but the humid air of northwest Georgia never lets down those expecting it.

    One lonely car sits in the driveway to the right-hand side, signaling one person inside the right duplex. Stairs rise up to two sets of doors on that right side, with one door going to a separate apartment. Another set of stairs rise to another pair of doors, and those doors are for the left duplex.

    Another lonely car zooms by on the quaint street as a door on the left side slowly creaks open, and the darkness prevades inside as the summer sun is unable to shine the living room. Stepping up the stairs reveals a bit more about the inside of the apartment, with an empty living room aside from one three-person couch, a flat-screen television sitting on a TV stand and a tan leather rocking chair positioned like a triangle.

    Immediately across from the front door is carpet covering two steps, and then a 90-degree turn and more carper stairs rising up to the second floor, where two bedrooms are separated by a narrow five-step hallway with a full bathroom and hallway closet. Downstairs, on the diagonal corner of the living room from the front door is a narrow hallway leading to a half bathroom and full kitchen. The seemingly empty apartment stays without lights, or clothes or anything, but moving closer to the kitchen reveals a bit more.

    Boiling water is heard on the stove as the kitchen lights illuminate the only active room in the two-story, two-bedroom apartment.

    The boiling water overflows on the cooking stove pot until a hand reaches out and moves it from the active stove top to an unactive one. The white and gold face paint come into view as Whyte Thunder stays focused on his cooking project before turning and letting the boiling pot simmer underneath the transparent cover.




    "My mother used to tell a story about me as a little kid. She said when I was 5 or 6 years old and just tall enough to reach counters, tables, cabinets, and other objects, I'd often explore things, some I shouldn't explore."



    Whyte Thunder turns around and dries off his hands while he watches the boiling water.



    Whyte Thunder:

    "She said when she would cook, and using a hot stove top, I'd tease her by slowly moving my hand toward the stove's hot iron plate. She'd tell me to stop, and I'd quickly move my hand away. Then, while looking at her, I'd slowly move my fingers closer and closer to the stove top. It was my way of rebelling against her motherly instincts and advice. She knew it would burn me, but I didn't listen. I was stubborn. I was 5 or 6 years old and exploring the world. I wanted to touch the stove, if anything because my mom told me not to and I wanted to be defiant. So, eventually, my mom didn't order me to pull my hand away. She watched as I moved closer and closer to the hot iron stove until my fingertips touched it, and the burning sensation sent a cold wave through my hand and arm and then a burning sting through my fingers. I cried for nearly an hour as my mom held my hand underneath freezing cold water to soothe the pain and diminish any lingering burns.

    She then said I asked her why that happened, and she said it was hot. I then said I was sorry, and she said I should've listened to her because she knew what was best.

    Last, she told me she'd still love me no matter what, even if I didn't listen to her all the time."




    Whyte Thunder moves the boiling pot back onto the active stove top and removes the cover. He grabs a cooking spoon and mixes whatever he's cooking. Some of the water overflows again and smoke rises up along with a hissing sound as the water lands on the burning iron.


    Whyte Thunder:
    "The metaphors are clear, but I'll say it anyway. I'm my mother. The FWA and its fans are me as a child. And WOLF is the burning stove top. For so long, the FWA and its fans have let WOLF roam free and do whatever he wanted. Steroid scandal? No big deal. Nearly kill Anthony Jackson? Whatever. Return and ruin my Crossfire Great Siege? Unpunished. Pills? Concussions? Becoming a health risk to the FWA each time he steps foot in the ring? We, the FWA, and I include myself in this, let him come back time and time again with our open arms in the form of cheers, chants and praise. We called him one of the greatest FWA competitors ever, but at what cost? Did we ever check his coat at the door? No. We let him do whatever he please. We let him burn us time and time again, and unlike me as a child, we didn't have a mother there to step up and say, 'Not again.' Because of that, we kept touching the stove top and let WOLF burn us."


    Whyte Thunder looks at the pot and continues stirring. Then he moves it to the unactive top and covers again as the water simmers and rescinds lower and lower. Whatever is cooking smells foul as all hell, but Whyte Thunder smiles.


    Whyte Thunder:
    "When WOLF had his dramatic, exaggerated 'retirement' after Back in Business IX, he had a long, drawn out rant about the FWA's faults. He didn't offer a single straightforward, direct ounce of praise for anyone in the back, the people running the show or the fans. It was more burning, more of the same old WOLF doing whatever he wanted and saying whatever he wanted. One would think THAT, such an extreme burn, would be the last time we let him do that. Hopefully, we'd all stop touching the stove. But aside from two people, that didn't happen.

    When I returned nearly a year ago to fight The Syndicate, Ryan Hall and eventually Jimmy King and his allies, I was doing it as the FWA's guardian angel. It was my job, my duty. I needed to protect the FWA from harm, and I still uphold those responsibilities, whether you like it or not. One day, you'll appreciate everything I do for the FWA. One day, you'll appreciate me, just like a child grows up to appreciate all the protection and guidance his mother provided. I am the mother, and the FWA and its fans are the child.

    For some reason, you fans continue to cheer for WOLF and boo me. I don't mind anymore. I did. It bothered me. I was affected, sent off a cliff into attacking The Mist. I wanted to see if the script changed, if the tables flipped and whether you cheered evil and booed good. Now I know you're just little kids, always drawn to exploring the unsteady, unstable things of this world. WOLF is the definition of explosive, and we as human beings never grow up and out of that attractiveness to carnage and chaos. Only a select few of us stand in opposition, and we will be the martyrs."



    Whyte Thunder slowly places his fingers down on the active stove top. The same cold sensation rushes through his fingers for a second and a half, before that freezing cold changes to indescribable burning pain. Whyte Thunder holds his fingers on the stove for five long seconds, grimacing and withstanding the pain through facial emotions and contortions, before the burning numbs and he becomes somewhat comfortable with the feeling. Once he reaches that point, he moves his fingers off the stove and once again experiences the burning in his now-red fingertips.


    Whyte Thunder:
    "I, and Lucian W. Ace, will continue touching the burning stove and experiencing the fire so the rest of the FWA and its fans don't have to. This metaphor sinks in more with Lucian, who never had a father. WOLF was supposed to be that role, but it never happened. Now WOLF is flustered as another explosive personality, his own son, stands opposite. And until Lucian Ace crosses the line, I'll never seek out to end him like I do WOLF. I need Lucian Ace for a specific reason, and he needs me for his own specific reason. Together we will do what is necessary and once and for all stand up for the FWA."


    Whyte Thunder uncovers the pot and notices the water is now soaked into whatever he is cooking. He continues stirring for another five seconds and then scoops up his object. The coyote head is done cooking, and ready to eat. The family member to the wolf was roaming around the apartment duplexes when Whyte Thunder caught it with his bear hands.

    Seconds later, he turns the nob and turns off the stove top. Just like that, he can touch the top without any burning.



    Whyte Thunder:
    "It's time to turn off the stove. After that, mom doesn't need to keep protecting her child from the burning stove top. For long, the FWA has let WOLF roam free without anyone doing the deed of standing up to him, aside from Chris Kennedy, and now is time to do it. It's time to get rid of WOLF for everything he has done to you, to me, to the entire FWA. Let's bury the pain once and for all.

    And as much as you hope I don't succeed, trust me, I know what's best for you."


  5. #5
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    The FWA camera picks up the cocking and clicking sound of a revolver dry firing as the cameraman raises up and focuses in on Vincent as he sits in one of the empty cells hanging from the ceiling that will hold either Anna Kendrick or Amber Warren in it.


    Vincent: Jethro you were right a few days ago when you said that this isn't a wrestling feud between us. This is a war that had been in the works for a long time, and while I did fire the first shot when I murdered your parents and left you in a coma. After tonight, I will be firing the last shot because to quote a good line from one of my favorite Sci-fi Shows, Firefly, “Someone's carryin' a bullet for you right now, doesn't even know it. The trick is, die of old age before it finds you.”


    I am carrying the bullet that will end your life, so while I may have spare you all those years ago, I don't plan on sparing you tonight. You see Jethro, I've been shot at and actually shot many a times, since long before we crossed paths and long since after our first encounter. Ain't not a single one has killed me, so you see Jethro, all of those firearms down there



    As I aim the revolver in my hand down towards the tables with other firearms on them, the cameraman looks at the tables that I am pointing at then looks back at me.


    Vincent: You can aim and fire at me all you want, in the end it will be I the scales the ladder, unlock this cage. This cage that will be the temporary home of the more beautiful and much more talented Anna Kendrick. I will unlock her cage while your whore of a wife looks on as you lay bleeding to death below.


    I know this because I have more experience at firearms, my aim is much better then yours, and because I want to see your expression when you realize that you won't be able to make the tag match that you oh so boldly declared that you'd be in later in the evening. Watching you bleed to death as Anna and I descend the ladder is icing on the cake, and the decorations on it would be win I had the firearm to Anna so she can put the final bullet into that thick skull of yours as she gets payback for you carving your initials into her back.




    Vincent aims the revolver at the other cell across the way, pulling the trigger as a bullet fires and gets stuck in the bullet resistant glass that surrounds the sides and bottom of the cell. The camera fades to black zoomed in on the smashed stuck bullet as the camera hears Vincent whistling “Engel” by Rammstein.

    [I WIN]


  6. #6
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Eddie Beltran and his agent are seen in the limousine on their way to the show. His agent asks if he is nervous, only for his eyes to light up.


    Beltran: Am I nervous? No, I'm not nervous. I never get nervous. I have never in my life been nervous. Being nervous is a sign of weakness, and Eddie Beltran is not weak. Weakness is for people like you, people like them that aren't the future of Pro Wrestling. Look in my eyes, dammit. Do I look nervous?

    Agent:
    ...Not at all.....

    Beltran: Don't you lie to me. I'm tired of being lied to. I'm tired of everybody lying to me. Maybe it's time for me to start lying to people. It's time for me to star messing with people's lives. Everybody thinks my life is worthless but they'll see. They'll see when I destroy everyone in my path and finally win something and be credited for it. Who's my opponent? Who is my opponent? Who is my opposition? Whoever it is, none of them can oppose me. I'm the best athlete any of these wrestling fans have ever seen. I'm the future dammit, and y'all better start to recognize. Now get the hell up out my room.

  7. #7
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    The Retirement of Ryan Rondo


    "The Last Star in the Sky" Ryan Rondo sits, alone, on a steel chair in the middle of his, dimly lit, locker room. He is sitting, wrapping his hands with tape, preparing himself both physically and mentally for what could well be the biggest match in his career. He stops momentarily, distracted from the raucous noise coming from, what he can only assume, the arena as Devin Golden and Lucian Ace do battle with Wolf. He's too focused on wrapping his hands to decipher whether they are boos or cheers. He looks down at his attire as he goes down to tie his boots. Green and gold wrestling tights, are these the tights that he finally wins the big one in? Are these the tights that will end up auctioned off on the FWA eBay for the IWC to battle over? He thinks so. He brings his hands back up, stands up and looks at himself in the mirror... he can't help but feel that there is a piece of the puzzle missing. Ryan Hall always told him, backstage behind the scenes, that Rondo just seems to be missing that something. Rondo shakes his head.

    "Hall is wrong. The only thing missing here... is that belt."

    It has taken years for Ryan to reach this point. A point where he feels like he is ready to be THE champion. He feels like he has it all when compared to his opponents for the night: the defending champion, Shane McLean and Phillip Alexander Jackson a.k.a PAJ. He has the talent to make any match five star in his own mind. He has the will to win. He has fans on his side. He has the skillset, the moves to baffle anyone. He feels that he has progressed to a point where he just needs to win the big one to finally elevate himself into the elite echelons of the FWA. To be considered one of the greatest. Of course, he remembers being a newly signed rookie touted for big things... he remembers what it was like to step into the presence of what he considers greatness. His mind flutters back to when he was preparing to make his debut and he had the biggest chance encounter any debuting rookie could have hoped for.
    He was sitting in a corridor, receiving a quick physical checkup from the FWA doctor before going out to face Sean Moore in a match where he was expected to get squashed... but he proved his worth. He was getting ready to go out when suddenly, he brushed shoulders with none other than "The Idol" Matt Boudreau. He responded with a meek and timid "Sorry" as Boudreau looked at him curiously, wondering who he was. "Debut?" the FWA World Champion queried at him. "Yeah. Yeah. Nervous as all hell. Got any tips, sir?" He remembers asking Boudreau, feeling like an idiot...a fish out of water. A fanboy.

    "Don't be nervous, kid and don't call me sir. Just be you. Be unique. Oh, and make everything as multicolored as possible."

    Rondo remembers taking every word of that to heart, and he chuckles at the last line.. just like he did back then.

    "Th-thanks. One day you'll see my name up in lights: Ryan Rondo."

    A crestfallen smile falls across Rondo's face as he remembers Boudreau's response to that as he walked away from him.

    "No problem. Look forward to it, kid. See you around."

    Rondo never managed to make good on that promise. Matt Boudreau was his first 'friend' in the FWA and he never will get to see Rondo's name up in lights. Sitting back down, Ryan thinks about it all for a moment. The words that Boudreau spoke that day... about being unique, about being himself... it's what he has done. But that's not the only thing that has motivated him. He sighs for a moment, his concentration slightly broken by his trailing thoughts. He hears a thundering noise come from the arena and again it spurs his brain into action. He is literally moments away from his chance of glory. His chance to make some FWA history. It's still slightly surreal to him what he has done in the last two years of his FWA career. But it isn't what he has achieved in the ring that sticks out in his mind. One event sticks in his mind. The night that Sunrise-Sunset was formed. Devin Golden is out there battling Wolf right now and won't have Rondo on his mind but the same can't be said here. They may not be as close as they once were, but Ryan still treats him as a close friend and as a mentor. Hell, he's even considering donning the maroon mask and cape and asking 'Whyte Thunder' if they want to go for round two if Ryan can't get the job done. But that isn't an option. He remembers vividly, the very night that Sunrise-Sunset lost the tag team titles, something that Golden said to him.

    "We set out to accomplish something and we accomplished it better than we could have hoped. You know what happens next. You're the best in the world right now, prove it."

    Devin Golden had faith in him from that point onwards, he saw something that Rondo himself didn't... at the time. Now Ryan can see it. He can believe it. Maybe he was blinded by the fact that he was slightly starstruck at the fact he was in a tag team with Devin Golden. Maybe he let all those words spoken against him from various opposing teams about being a 'weak link' get to him. But now, he hears no such thing as being described as a weak link. The entire locker room sees him as a very real threat. He knows he has the tools to get the job done against anyone. Victories against Wolf, Stu St. Clair and Jack Severino - all former World Champions - hould have made him realise that much sooner. Confidence has sometimes been an issue. Something that held him back but Devin Golden is one man that Rondo should thank for helping him get over it and deal with it. "The Amazing One" has a little laugh to himself as he thinks of another possible explanation to his confidence issues as he looks in the mirror again. Maybe he just couldn't see how good he was due to the fact that he was blinded by all the Brokeback Mountain references people slung at Sunrise-Sunset... owed in part due to Rondo's amazing resemblance to Jake Gyllenhaal. Of course not, just a funny thought to lighten his mood a little. Devin Golden isn't the only man he sees as someone who has helped him reach where he is today. There's another man who he sees as a close friend, someone who has influenced him. Perhaps unexpected but that man is none other than "The Astonishing" Chris Kennedy. Both from the same place in Florida and having trained with the late, legendary Kerry Kennedy a few times, Rondo can see the winning work ethic it takes... and he took it on board. And it's his turn to have the glory.

    He stands up and walks over to the hooded jacket, hanging in a an adjacent locker from the mirror he has been staring at, that he normally wears for his ring entrance. He smiles, feeling rather coordinated given the fact that it matches his wrestling tights. Maybe it won't be the only thing that goes right tonight. He looks back at the mirror and begins to psyche himself up, knowing that at any moment, someone will knock on his door and tell him that "It's time". Usually before a match he thinks about his opponents and tells himself inner monologues, things he would say to a crowd of people if they were to listen, in order to build an image of his opponents that he wants to defeat. But he feels slightly awry about it this time. Shane McLean and Phillip Alexander Jackson are two people that, until the last few recent months, Ryan has never had much interaction with in the FWA. But yet, it's a pre match ritual that he's not going to skimp out on doing. He looks down at the ground. He tries to focus but is slightly disturbed by some theme music playing... He's too spaced out to consider who it belongs to and what it means. This is his time.

    "This is my time"he thinks to himself.

    "McLean, PAJ have had their shining moments. McLean has won an elimination chamber and then somehow defended the belt in a triple cage match. He has already done more in this reign than alot of the other champions. He doesn't need to prove himself worthy anymore. I have always respected him as a fellow competitor and a fellow person. He was just the guy in the wrong place at the wrong time when I needed a way to win at Trial By Fire. Unfortunately, that way was Jimmy King. I have nothing against Shane McLean. Nothing at all. I know I wronged him and I wronged the FWA universe but I have set things straight and will keep things that way. McLean might be wary of me but I am not the snake in the grass this time and he, atleast, will know that. But again, McLean is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's nothing personal, I just want that belt. But there is one thing that irks me about McLean. He plays the same hand that I do... in a different way. He says that he and the fans are the same, they're collectively the champion of the FWA. Firstly, sounds like he's been huffing the same cult coloured paint as Jason Gryphon or along the same lines away. And mainly, how will McLean act if he does lose? Will he still keep his attitude? Absolutely not. He chose me as his opponent for his own selfish reasons - not for the fans.That was just mere coincidence. The difference between us is that I know that I want the belt for myself... but what i've been saying is that I want to win it using the skills and the talent that won me so many fans in the first place - not by using treachery and smoke and mirrors. The current champion might have the better track record but I have the mental edge. I am the one with the past victory. I know I can do it. Does McLean know he can beat me when there's less distractions? Speaking of distractions, that is all that PAJ is.

    Everyone knows that tonight is about me and Shane. Not PAJ. All he is is some self important idiot who can't decide if he is coming or going. And for some reason, he managed to get a title shot. I can't lie though, he has been a thorn in my side for a long time. He ruined my Carnal Contendership and he has ruined my title shot. It will please me greatly to ruin his night and to ruin his supposed 20th reinvention. I would say that PAJ has done nothing to deserve the mantle of FWA Champion seeing as he preferred to be the man who held up LOW rather than work hard in the FWA until very recently. But that logic only leads me down a path to being hypocritical. I want to win that belt. But I will not lose any sleep over Shane McLean winning. The title is my ultimate goal but I will make it a personal objective to ensure that PAJ knows that he is never getting anywhere near that belt as long as he is in the ring with me. It is the absolute very least that I owe to Shane McLean. But that is all I can do for him. I am sure it won't mean much after I take that belt from him...."

    There is a sudden knock at the door and it startles Ryan. It opens and in walks a FWA Tech employee.

    "It's time, Mr. Rondo. Are you ready?"

    Ryan nods affirmatively to the tech who shuts the door and waits for him. Rondo looks himself one more time in the mirror. He knows that this is his moment. He turns around and opens the locker room door, a bit taken aback due to the brightly lit corridor. He glances a few of his fellow FWA talent walking backstage, looking on at him with various emotions written in their faces. Some of expectancy, some with envy and some looking at him with a look of understanding. Even some smile at him. He begins to walk down to the corridor. "This is it." he thinks to himself. His mind begins to wander as he makes the longest walk of his life, thus far. He thinks of the repercussions that tonight will have on him. He cannot lose. This whole contract rumour situation has made him think of the future for him if he fails to get the job done.

    He thinks of the day that he retires. It's no secret to him that this is a young man's game and he is getting older. But that's not what gets at him. It's his style of wrestling. The entertaining high flyer is never around for the longest amount of time usually. He has had a fair amount of injuries and has wrestled through them. He doesn't know when he will go. But in his head, he knows how he pictures it:

    Years in the future, Fight Night has come to Tampa Bay, Florida, his hometown. He's walking down the ramp for one final time, dressed in a black suit as if at a funeral. Fans look at him with solemn expressions, some chant for him, he walks down trying to be as stonefaced as possible as he walks into the ring and gets a mic. He speaks about various things to the crowd, joking with them but after many words... he has one last spiel for them. He paces around the ring with a mic and speaks what - at this present point - to him are his final words in the FWA.

    "It's been an amazing journey. I've seen and done so many things that will go down forever as a part of FWA legend. But all of these things were not possible without you. You are the life and blood of this business and of me, Ryan Rondo, the wrestler. There are so many things I could list that just would not have been possible without you. We've had some of the best times together... but unfortunately, there is always that one thing to regret: I regret that night I turned my back on Shane McLean, the FWA and most importantly, you guys. I regret it because maybe if I stayed on the right path that night, I would have filled McLean's shoes. But because of what happened, I never had the privilege, the honour of being able to call myself the champion of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance..."

    He takes a moment as he looks on at some fans, leaning against the turnbuckle, taking a breather having almost choked that last line out. Rondo looks up at the ceiling, a single solemn tear falling from his left eye, slowly navigating its way down his cheek.

    "It's a damn shame that I will never get to consider myself as equal as 'The Idol' Matt Boudreau, Devin Golden or Chris Kennedy."

    He looks down at the canvas of the ring for a moment as some fans chant his name before looking back up, taking a big deep breath before speaking his last few words.

    "I stand before you as Ryan Rondo, the man, not Ryan Rondo "The Last Star in the Sky" or "The Amazing One". All I ever wanted was that honor, all I set out to accomplish was to win that belt and have my legacy go down as something to remember. I was the average one in the family - average grades, average lifestyle. Wrestling was the only thing I was good at and it breaks my heart that I will only be remembered as someone who came so close yet so far. It's upsetting knowing that I have to say goodbye knowing I could have done so much more. But my mission was always to entertain. It was always to do it for the fans. If just one of you go home thinking that I was the best in the world, thinking that I was the man then I am consider my mission complete. Ryan Rondo might not be a name synonymous with that belt and with greatness... but it will be a name synonymous with loyalty, hard work and a name that the fans cheer with pride and that... that is enough for me to be happy. From the bottom of my heart, I want to say thank you to the FWA world for the best years of my life. Thank you to you guys, the fans. Thank you to Chris Stallings, Matt Boudreau, Devin Golden, Chris Kennedy, Shane McLean, Ryan Hall, Matthew Robinson, G-Rich and everyone i've ever met in this company. It's been a blast..."

    And with that, he puts the mic down, poses for the fans one last time with cloudy eyes........

    Suddenly, in the present, Ryan is jerked back from his thoughts of the future as he stands at the stage curtain. He is snapped back into concentration mode as he hears the fans screaming from the void beyond. This is his moment. This is now. This is his chance to change what he perceives to be the future. This is his chance to change that regret. He pulls the curtain back and gets ready to walk out.

    He cannot lose.

    Last edited by The Golden One; 07-20-2014 at 01:00 PM.

  8. #8
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    - Lying to your face -

    “People think that a liar gains a victory over his victim. What I’ve learned is that a lie is an act of self-abdication, because one surrenders one’s reality to the person to whom one lies, making that person one’s master, condemning oneself from then on to faking the sort of reality that person’s view requires to be faked…The man who lies to the world, is the world’s slave from then on…There are no white lies, there is only the blackest of destruction, and a white lie is the blackest of all.” - Ayn Rand

    --------

    What lies behind the mask?

    The dark and mysterious are renowned for wearing masks, assassins, vigilantes and superheroes are all bound by deception.

    They do it for protection, for anonymity or even to scare. I don't mean the physical object.

    These masks are ones you can't take off. Ones that are used for lying, used for deception, used to hide like a coward.

    Hiding in their own little worlds afraid to show the world who they really are. They are liars. They lie to everyone. I am NOT one of them but almost everyone else is.

    It is time to change that. It is time for action. For a bringer of reality. A bringer of truth. Reborn from a liar to the most honest man you will ever meet...

    --------

    'TRAPPED'


    The scene opens to a broken, decaying amusement park. The giant wooden rollercoasters are breaking board by board slowly fading out of existence. The path is broken, with plants growing through the cracks in the tarmac. It is the only colour left in this once vibrant and happy place. As we move up the path we see a man stood in the doorway of the halls of mirrors. The doors have fallen from their hinges and leave the hall exposed to the outside world. The metal that lines the hall is rusting as the one cherry red has slowly faded and is being consumed by the rust that is slowly taking everything else in the park. As we approach the man speaks and disappears into the hall of mirrors. As we get inside we see that most of the mirrors are in pretty good condition, a lot of them are covered with a liberal coating of dust, a few towards the front are shattered. Only a few of the lights work and they flicker on and off after being left for a long time. No-one has really been here for a long time. There is a lot of dust but despite this the man doesn't wear a mask to shield himself from it. The man is Phillip A. Jackson. We see 10 reflections, some are crystal clear, some are dusty, some are shattered by broken mirrors. Phillip A. Jackson stands with his hands in his pockets looking straight at the mirrors but we don't know which one he is but we hear his voice echo throughout the room.

    |Phillip A. Jackson|
    Faded glory. That is what FWA has become in people's eyes. Ryan Hall is not what he used to be. Chris Kennedy is whoring himself out in the tag division. People used to laugh and smile at the greatness of these former champions in their glory days but like all things they come and go. Time is the ultimate killer. It never stops and we can't do anything about it. This place used to be full of family fun but now it is a shell of what it used to be. A decaying monument to the failures of humanity. I am sure there is some story about why this place closed. Something involving a clown or one of the rides but there is some reason that this closed. People can't accept that time is the ultimate reason. People can't accept a logical answer. They have to hide behind something. Why are humans so weak? Why must they hide to justify their actions and their behaviours? Why cant we go back to when things weren't so fucking complicated? That is all I am..A simple man..I have hopes and dreams...just like everyone else, however I am NOT like everyone else. I have no desire to be like everyone else. My “simple” hopes and dreams are to destroy the hopes and dreams of every person on this planet and break the shackles on humanity. We are in a rut. Not just in FWA but on a grand, global scale. We have events to hide what is wrong. Look around the event don't just look at the event. The reality you all know is doomed because its very foundations were made from lies. You allow yourselves to be tricked. The mask pulled down over your faces and lead astray by the men in suits that claim they protect you. The bubble that is around every single person designed to “protect” you is oh so real and it is a damn shame. Humanity reduced to a soft play area for little boys and little girls who will never be in any REAL danger. They will plod along in first gear while I accelerate away in fifth. I want to experience the danger. I want to take risks. I took a big risk in trying to embrace this world and making them believe that I could be one of them when I never really was. I will NEVER be everyone else.

    Phillip A. Jackson takes one of his hands out of his pockets and whips his arm and one of the mirrors smashes. It attracts our attention as Phillip A. Jackson puts his hands back in his pockets and smirks.

    I have never wanted to be anyone else. I have risen from the dark depths of my childhood. Being a bystander as the world carries on around me. I TOOK the world I knew and I destroyed it grabbing the rest of the ungrateful world by the throat and watching the life slowly fade out of it. I seized the power and now the world cant exist without me. People have ALWAYS tried to screw me over but I am the best for a reason. I find a way. I don't hide behind the convenient excuse I was handed. I don't blame TV, videogames, drugs, peer pressure or whatever bullshit excuse people use. In my case, Im just another former LOW guy who will fail in FWA, I'm a quitter, I can't succeed in FWA. There have been lots of guys like it but none of them are standing here right now. None of them have even come CLOSE to the level I have achieved in FWA. You wanna know why that is? I don't hide behind those things. I am more in-touch with reality than everyone else. You know what corrupts reality...Too much power.

    The lights flicker again. Phillip A. Jackson looks up at the lights before looking back down into the mirror.

    G-Rich gave Shane McLean the power. The power to choose. He was afraid of making a mistake. He thought that he would be spared because he didn't make the mistake. He wanted Shane McLean to choose so that he wouldn't piss off the odd man out. Well G-Rich you did pay a massive price and as you recover in your hospital bed as the nurses and doctors pretend to give a shit about you I will tell you this. Man up. Make the decision and stick with it. Don't hide behind Shane McLean. Shane is going to pay for his sin. Ryan Rondo will pay for his. Those who have helped me will be rewarded. G-Rich has wanted to hold me back because of CWA. NO MORE. I have the power now because I have proven I can be EVERYTHING. I can be a good guy or a bad guy. I can pull the emotional strings and make you all blow the roof of the building and I can make you despise me. I have you all eating out of the palm of my hand and there is not a damn thing that anyone can do about it. I am the saviour of this business. I am the saviour of FWA and I have said it from the moment I 'betrayed' you. I did it to save each and every person who has ever uttered the words FWA. I don't need a title to be great and to know I am great but you are all fools. You believe, naively, that the best wrestler in this company holds the FWA World Heavyweight Championship. That is a lie they cover your eyes with. It is all fake. Being the best transcends any and every title that exists in this world. In order to cement my legacy people want to see me jump through the hoops and do a trick in the hope of a reward like some sort of dog. I am not some dog. I don't need to jump through the rings you put in front of me. I am better than that. I don't need to justify myself to anyone. I don't need ANYTHING to make me happy other than watching the weak, rudderless sheep scatter when the wolves come out to play. Accolades are imaginary. They create a false illusion that the person holding them deserves it. Does Shane McLean deserve your affection? Does Shane McLean deserve all the praise he is getting? Shane McLean is just some pathetic one trick pony. Make you all laugh and make you believe in him. The reality you all believe in is nothing but a shell.

    Jackson's eyes widen and he angrily stares forward with a scowl on his face.

    WHY DO YOU HIDE SHANE? BEHIND YOUR PATHETIC JOKES?! ARE YOU SCARED THE PEOPLE WILL SEE THE REAL SHANE MCLEAN?! THE HOLLOW SHELL WHO HAS ZERO SUBSTANCE?! THE SHELL OF A BROKEN MAN?!

    Jackson manically laughs as his eyes widen even more. Jackson throws another stone at a mirror smashing another one.

    Which is why everyone is trapped. Trapped in the same broken pattern where you believe that good guys are good and bad guys are bad. Trapped in your safe thoughts spoon fed to you while you sit on your high chairs by people you believe are smarter than you. This company, FWA, has made you believe that Shane McLean and Ryan Rondo are top-tier, elite talent. They are nowhere near. It was an illusion by the master of magic, G-Rich. He had you all under his spell and now the illusion is broken and all that is left is reality. I have saved you from the lies of FWA. I shattered the glass ceiling and I shattered G-Rich's false vision for FWA and now all that remains is FWA's worst nightmare but what is now the dark reality that now occupies FWA. The reality that...I AM the best in this company. People will debate it, I haven't won many matches this year but what does it all mean in the end? Does winning a six man tag team match where I team with two guys I detest mean I am the best wrestler in this company? No. Wins are fake. Wins mean nothing. Does history remember winners? Or does history remember those who do just that? Guys who make history. I am a history maker and a glory taker. Even if I don't win you remember me. I have broken the glass ceiling. I changed things for people who come from my background. I don't need a belt to justify my legacy. So who cares that I don't win anymore? I am over it. I don't dwell on history I make. It is all in the rear window. I am free from what has happened. I have been since day one. All the tales from my past, like my poor, innocent mother, lies to make you feel like I was just like you. I am too good to be you. I don't want all these lies. All this showmanship and deception. When humanity truly reigned. We walked up to each other and said we were a better fighter and then you fought and the true talent rose to top on a pile of corpses. I walked up to FWA. I looked it in the eye and I said I was better than it and in my wake I left a pile of corpses of wrestlers who are no longer apart of FWA, quit or can no longer compete for the World Heavyweight Championship. Sean Moore, Darnell Porter, Clay Reitmeier, Mac Michaud and Adrian Wolf...The list can and WILL be added too. I told you all I was better than them and I proved it. There is no doubt, no secret, just truth. Kings, Last Kings, Jimmy Kings or a Prince finally ascending to the throne, need a pile of bodies to rest their feet on as they survey their well earned kingdom.

    The unflinching figure of Phillip A. Jackson continues to reflect around the room. His voice drawing nearer and nearer as we narrow down where the REAL Phillip A. Jackson is and not just the reflections.

    Though I am willing to sacrifice to see the end. The end of Ryan Rondo. The little bitch has threatened to quit. I will be glad to see the back of him. Ryan Rondo is a chameleon. Latching onto whatever the flavour of the month is in the hope of even achieving an ounce of the success that the originator has achieved. People in this business do it all the time. Ryan Rondo did the worse thing you can ever do. He tried to be me. That is the greatest insult to me. You can hide behind my legacy and my ideas to destroy FWA. You wanted to be the next big thing in FWA but you were always outshone by someone. You were just the hard-worker who may one day get lucky when someone else makes him seem good enough to be at the top. Ryan Rondo got that break when he copied me in betraying FWA. He got that break when people started to think Ryan Rondo was the real deal. Ryan Rondo is not the real deal. I AM THE REAL DEAL. Everything that he has done this year has been because of Jimmy King, Ryan Hall and I needing a pawn to really sell it. It was game for us Ryan. We used you like the mediocre wrestler you are because people, for some strange reason, loved you. Was it because you were loyal to FWA for so long despite achieving nothing of note? Was it because people like a good underdog story? Or was it because they felt sorry for you? Whatever it is was you took their love away. It was the final blow as they thought their untouchable empire would crumble and it made us, us being Jimmy King, Ryan Hall and Phillip A. Jackson, infamous. We corrupted the incorruptible. We broke the unbreakable.

    Phillip A. Jackson smirks and we see it across the mirrors that remain unbroken and still visible. He is suddenly very animated. Jackson doesn't throw a stone this time but steps forward and smashes a mirror by putting his foot through it.

    We ripped hearts from the people who believed all because you just wanted to be like your favourite wrestler, Phillip A. Jackson. I keep the broken hearts of the FWA fans and wear them with pride. All the hearts that I ripped out after PAJ pulled at the heartstrings are worn along with all the ones we broke when you thought you actually made some friends outside of Devin Golden. You would think that would take you to the top but there is always one thing that everyone who wants to be just like me forgets. I am already waiting for you. The stupid lie gets very real, very quickly. When a lie meet reality they don't cancel each other out. The reality consumes the lie, chews it up and spits it back out. I will stand over you, I will stand over Shane McLean because all you will is the remnants of my spit. No matter how much of a step up it will be for both of you it is still a disgrace and a step down from me...just like everything else. This is not me displaying arrogance. I can assure you. I would let you know when I was being arrogant. Being arrogant deludes reality. I am all about reality. This is me. This is who I am. What do I gain by lying? What do I gain by betraying the reality I set out to achieve? I stand before you all as a hero. I have liberated you. What have Shane McLean and Ryan Rondo done for you recently? Allowed you to become a sheep and blindly follow a lie. I will not lead you astray. The day of lies are over. The order is over. The chaos reigns. This is one reality that won't suck because this one is the one you have all wanted from the start. My reality. My era. Shane McLean will finally be dethroned like the unworthy champion that he is. Ryan Rondo will finally be gone from FWA. It will be glorious because you will finally see the REAL me.


    One last mirror is smashed and Phillip A. Jackson steps into shot with his arms out having destroyed the last mirror that was deceiving us. He looks out into the decaying ruins of an amusement park that once stood here and smirks as the scene slowly fades to black.

  9. #9
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Welcome to Hell Valley

    A Gryphon And A King Battle This Eve
    One Plots To Win, The Other To Deceive
    One Man Is Evil But The Other Is Good
    He Fights For The People As The Other Should
    The Righteous Will Win This Epic War
    Hall Shall Be Deaden To His Very Core

    Six Months, six long hard months of waiting are finally about to pay off this Sunday at Red, White, and Bruised. In one of the most anticipated matches in FWA today, Ryan Hall will face off against Jason Gryphon in a battle for the ages. This war between one of the greatest in FWA History and one of the hottest rising stars in history shall light of the sky with its fury. It is a confrontation that neither of these men want to loses because to lose would be defeat. Both Hall and Gryphon will fight until their very last breath and anything everything that has happened between them, we could be in for a very long match. After months of interference and brawls, the time has come for this blood feud to come to its boiling point. The youth movement is in full effect now in FWA and scores must be settled to determine the new ruling class of the company. Ryan Hall and Jason Gryphon’s grudge match will be the perfect metaphor for the future of FWA. Is it time for the men of the past to pass the torch to the next generation or do the former champions of yesterday still have what it takes to continue their rule against the the new breed of FWA elites. Jason Gryphon has done everything that he can to prove that he is ready to take the reins of the company and lead the next generation. He has won championships, gotten himself over with the fans, and has beaten the best that FWA has to offer, including former World Champions. It is now time to see if Jason can walk out of the fire without a scratch on him or if will be get burned by the “Inferno.”

    Jason Gryphon (Voiceover):
    “I often laugh at Satan, and there is nothing that makes him so angry as when I attack him to his face, and tell him that through God I am more than a match for him” – Martin Luther

    Another day has dawned and we are a mere 24 hours away from the day that we have all been waiting for, the Red, White, and Bruised PPV event. The morning fog has begun to roll in over the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina and begins to drift down to the arrant farm land. Farms filled with cows, horses, produce, and hogs are filled with the dense drifting clouds of hot and cold. One of the farms that used to be filled with life was the compound of the Gryphonism religion. It is now dead with silence as the sun tries to peak into the morning. The silence of the voices that used to claim this land for themselves are now gone. All of them trying to spread the good word about the Gryphon to the four corners of the Earth and their leader is nowhere to be found at the moment. Almost giving the farm a feeling of Ancient Egypt after Moses had freed the slaves from the control of the Pharaoh, no one is left to toil in the fields and the crops have begun to whilt. A weathervane over the farmhouse begins to creak in what appears to be a post-apocalyptic wonderland. The creaks over with a bitter hum to the North where a truck begins to make his way down the gravel road down toward the compound. The truck drives through the break in the trees and makes its way toward the tall grass that hasn’t seemed to have been cut in weeks, adding to the darkening tone of this once great place. The truck shuts off and the door flings open. Jason Gryphon, gets out of the car, and he has a bottle of Johnny Walker Black in his hands. The bottle appears to be half empty as he slams the door to his truck closed. He is humming a song under his breath which appears to be “Shoot to Thrill” by AC/DC, his former theme song from when he first debuted as a FWA Superstar.

    Jason Gryphon:
    I'm like evil I get under your skin, Just like a bomb that's ready to blow…God, I love that song! Why on Earth did I stop using that..

    Gryphon nearly stumbles as he walks his way over to the now empty church that lays on the property. He pulls out a pair of keys and he drunkenly tries to open the door to the chapel, cursing a few times before finally getting the large wooden doors to finally open. Jason slowly walks into the church, grabbing a hold of the pews in order to stabilize himself before he walks down to the altar where the blood stained statue of the Gryphon still rest. Jason walks over to the front pew by the large Golden idol and simply stares at it for a few moments, trying to get his barrings. It appears almost as if he is trying to look into the statue’s soul, before he stands up and places his hands on its eagle head.

    Jason Gryphon:
    You cannot help me this time old friend. What I do now, I must do on my own. I have to beat him and I have to do it alone or all is lost.

    The former North American Champion makes his way over to another door that the followers of his religion were not allowed to enter. Jason once again pulls out of the set of keys that he used earlier and opens the door to the backroom of the church. This room where people assumed that Jason would prepare his sermons is anything but used for that purpose. The room is filled with television monitors, computer screens, and covered with magazine clipping. Jason flicks the switch to the power of the room and all of the monitors to the room come on. It is soon revealed that all of the monitors are showing various matches from the career of one man, the same man that Jason will face on Sunday, “The Last King” Ryan Hall.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Tick…Tick…Tick

    Jason moves his head around in a rapid motion looking at all of the monitors that he can.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Tick…Tick…Tick

    He appears to be trying to take in as much information about Ryan Hall that he can in as little time as he can.

    Jason Gryphon:
    BOOM!

    Gryphon slams his fists down on the desk where he has sat down and the slam rocks several of the computers that are showing the matches of Ryan Hall.

    Jason Gryphon:
    That is the sound of my patience with Ryall Hall reaching it’s end but it order to prepare myself for the end, I have to go back to the beginning. It all started because of hope. It flung me towards a journey into the heart of damnation. I wanted to make my late wife and my family proud. That quickly grew to making my Gryphon’s proud. As I continued to fight, I wanted to be responsible for changing this company and giving it a better tomorrow. The Syndicate was running wild in the company, beating people senseless, and hording championships. They were an unstoppable force that was killing the business. After I won the X-Division Championship, I was soon approached by a man that would change my life forever. That is the day that I met Ryan Hall. He came up to me and gave me hope for the future. He said that if I joined him, it would solidify myself as one of the hottest Superstars in the company. I believed him. It is one of the most foolish things that I have ever done and ever since I have not been able to trust anyone in the locker room. I believed in the venomous words of the Devil and the only thing that I got out of it was to be made to look like an idiot. Just when I thought that The Seraphim were going to fly high into the sun to take on the Sydicate and their evil, Ryan Hall showed the world that the only person he cares about is Ryan Hall. He stabbed Stu St. Clair, Ashley O’Ryan, and myself in the back when he decided to join up with the most hated faction in FWA History. The only thing that Ryan Hall wanted was to become the FWA World Champion. I could have lived with that. We both could have just left it at that, Ryan Hall with the World Championship and myself with the X-Division Championship but no. Hall did not just want to be the World Champion, he had to prove himself as the most evil bastard in the company.

    Jason brings up a photo of Ryan Hall and Jimmy King after Hall’s World Championship Victory against Chris Kennedy, the proudest moment of his career. It was on that night where he did what no one believed that he could.

    Jason Gryphon:
    He alligned himself with Jimmy King in a fool hardy attempt to take over the FWA in it’s weakest moment. He used that alliance to cost me the first championship that I ever won in the FWA, a championship that I cherished, and was not ready to let go of. Just when I was about to put away Drew Stevenson in our Ladder Match, Ryan Hall’s music came on and distracted me, allowing Drew to steal my championship and then because of his alliance with Jimmy King, he did not even allow me to get a rematch for the championship that I helped to revitalize. There hasn’t been more competent X-Division Champion since me and the title’s legacy has gone down hill since then. Hall took something away from me and even though I wanted it back more than anything, I had to move on because if I didn’t I would have driven myself into madness. That was not the end ofHall’s treachery, we were just getting started.

    Jason moves his eyes over to the mouse of and clicks on two files that open his North American Championship Match with Shane McClean and Thomas Princeton as well as Hall’s last championship defense against WOLF. It was one of the proudest moments of Jason’s career when he won the championship but the joy of that moment would not last forever.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Ryan Hall, thanks to his alliance with Jimmy King, had a stanglehold on the World Championship and no one stood a chance of defeating him as long as that alliance with King was still in tact. Thankfully WOLF was responsible for getting rid of Jimmy King and sending him back to the hellhole called CWA. That exposed a weakness in Hall’s armor but it was still strong enough to withstand the onslaught from WOLF. All the while with this going on in the World Championship Division, the North American Championship division was beginning to go into chaos when I declared that I wanted my long overdue shot for the gold. What happened when I got something that I wanted so badly? I won! I became the North American Champion to shock the world. My stock in the company was never higher than on the night when I lifted the North American Championship high above my head. That was about change as well. One night after being the North American Champion, I was put into an Elimination Chamber match for the World Championship. It had the oppurtunity to raise the two highest prizes above my head at the end of the night. That was not to be the case though as everyone saw on that night. Shane McClean and I went toe to toe again but this time it was Shane that came out on top. Shane McClean may have won the championship that night but it was not what people were talking about the next day.

    Jason opens a GIF of himself leaping off of the top of one of the Elimination Chamber pods and crashing down onto Hall to defeat him and strip his title away.

    Jason Gryphon:
    It was the first time that Ryan Hall and I had come face to face against each other since he cost me the X-Division gold and I made him pay for sticking his nose into my business. I did the very thing that Chris Kennedy and WOLF, two of the all time greats that could not do, I took the World Championship away from Ryan Hall. Does that make me better than them? I don’t know for sure but the one thing that I do know is that on that one night, it made me better than Ryan Hall. I exposed the weakness in the King’s armor and I exploited it. I proved that Ryan Hall is not unstoppable. That one night fueled my drive and my determination to become one of the biggest stars in FWA. Hall may have struck first but I struck best. I took the one thing that he cared about the most away from him. I knew that this would not be the end of our battles but I had no idea just how much Hall is a student of history.

    Jason pulls up a file that shows his match against Drew Stevenson when Hall cost him the North American Championship. He’s fists begin to clinch the mouse so hard that it begins to crack.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Once again I had to defend a championship that I busted my ass in order to get against Drew Stevenson. I was going to avenge the loss against him and I was going to walk out of the North American Champion but NO! Ryan Hall once again interfered in my match with Drew Stevenson and helped that theif steal ANOTHER OF MY TITLES! Once again I was not able to get a rematch against him but this time, it was because I didn’t want one. There was only one person that I wanted to face and that was Ryan Hall. I had to make him pay for everything that he did to me, for everything that he had cost me. I had to hurt him just has much as he hurt me and I struck like a viper inside of the Triple Cage Match. I made sure that Ryan came millimeters away from becoming the World Champion again and I took him down, three stories down. My reward for keeping Ryan Hall away from the World Championship was the oppurnity that I wanted for six months. G-Rich gave me a one on one match against Ryan Hall. Some people have asked why did I cost myself the World Title that night and it is simple. I am heading in the brightest years as the face of the FWA and Ryan Hall’s star is fading fast. I cost Ryan Hall his last chance of becoming a World Champion. That meant more to me than becoming the World Champion on that night.

    Jason Gryphon walks over to the wall of photos that he has of his enemy and he plucks one of them off, one with Hall with the FWA World Championship. He pulls a Zippo and lights the pictures of fire to metaphorically burn Hall’s hope of becoming a champion again. Jason drops the burning pictures and stomps on it on the floor, snuffing the flame out.

    Jason Gryphon:
    That is why I did what I did, to get what I wanted and to cost Ryan Hall the thing that he most desired. For the last month, Ryan Hall and I have been beating the hell out of each other everytime that we come across each other. We are fighting in the ring, in the back, at house shows, and on Fight Night. We have caused each other to lose matches and we have beaten each other bloody. That is the kind of hated that we have for each other. It is the kind of hatred that has simmered for half a year and has reached it’s ready to be unleashed on the FWA Universe. After everything that has happened, everything that we have done with each other, Ryan Hall has still not told me why he singled me out all of those months ago. He may not want to reveal his motives but I have finally figured it out. Everything that has happened is because of one simple reason. It is because a green eyed monster infected Hall’s soul the very second that I stepped foot into a FWA ring. This multi-time World Champion, this FWA Hall of Famer, was JEALOUS of ME!

    Jason clicks on another set of files and suddenly images of his greatest accomplishments pop up on the various television and computer screens. Some of the clips feature Jason’s debut, his X-Division Championship win, His defeat over Michael Garcia, his North American Championship victory, and his win over the current World Championship Shane McClean.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Ryan has been jealous of me since the very beginning of my career and I will tell you how I know. That bastard has been in the FWA longer than nearly everyone that still remains. He has seen the best and the worst come and go. He saw something in me and he did not like what it was. It was not because I was bad in the ring; it was because I was great in it. Hall saw me as a threat to his reign at the top of the mountain and he set out to make sure that he tried to stop me from achieving any of my goals. From the very first second that I stepped through the curtain at Back in Business more than a year ago, I have had more admiration from the FWA Universe than Ryan Hall has had his entire career. Hall has no idea the power of being loved by the fans. I have had something to fight for since I debuted in this company and that has not changed in all of that time since then in fact, the voices of admiration are only getting louder. I am fighting for all of those little voices that scream our in pleasure when I hit a Lion’s Lariat or when I come flying off of the top rope with the Eagle’s Wings. My Gryphons are the only people I trust in this world because they have never let me down. They will keep giving me a reason to fight but Ryan, the only person that he fights for himself. He looks out for #1 but when you only have yourself to fight for, you only have yourself to blame when you fail. That is exact what is going to happen this Sunday at Red, White, and Blue. Everything that Ryan Hall is right now is just a shell of the champion that he used to be and I am not going to stop exposing him for the man that he is. He is a sheep in wolves clothing that is too scared to howl at the moon. He is afraid of everything that I could become and he damn sure should be. There has never been something like me in this business before. Something that has the capability to destroy the old ways and build up the new while still clinging the fans to my breast.

    Jason pauses the video of his greatest moments around the moment of his various victories against some FWA Legends. Jason unscrews the top of the bottle of Johnny Walker Black and takes a swing as he relives the moments that have made in the man that he is today.

    Jason Gryphon:
    I have beaten the best that this company has put in front of me and I am tired of being overlooked by the establishment that decide who will be the next person to fight for championships. I have forced myself into the position of getting the X-Division Championship and the North American Championship but I was never given a second champion even thought I have earned it. I have finally realized that this company does not want me to be the champion. They do not want me to be the face of the company because I am someone that answers to a higher authority. I answer to each and every one of the Gryphons that scream my name with their very last breath. If I have to, I will force myself into the getting a World Championship match because I have earned it. Five Former World Champions have fallen and there will be more to come. I am going into Red, White, and Bruised with a target on my back. There are people that want me to fail but I will not let them drag me down. Ryan Hall is nothing more than an old lion trying to continue his time as the head of the herd but the sad fact for Hall is that I am the young lion that has arrived from the east to kill him and the legacy of evil that he has left behind. This lion just happens to have an Eagles head and a pair of wings on his back. You may be “The Last King” Hall but you are no match for a Gryphon.

    Jason take the bottle of booze that he has been drinking and he throw it at one of the monitors that he is standing in front of. The brown liquor from the bottle behinds to pours down the wall as Jason turns around as sparks shoot out of the smashed monitor.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Whyte Thunder, Thomas Princeton, Shane McClean, Stu St. Clair, and most importantly Ryan Hall all have two things in common. They are former World Champions and all five of these men have tasted glorious defeat at my hands. Some men have the capability to shake off a loss and simply move onto their next match and move onto their next victory. I don’t have that ability. Every loss that I take begins to eat away a piece of my soul. When I lost to Garcia, it ate at me, when I lost to Drew…twice because of Hall, it ate at me, and when I lost to WOLF, it ate at me. There are matches that I could have and should have won because I know I have the capability to do so. When I go into my match with Ryan Hall, I cannot afford to lose anymore of myself because it will take too much out of me to lose to him. That bastard has betrayed me, cost me championship gold, and caused my blood to spill. I cannot let his actions stand any longer. I cannot let evil win! That is the reason to brought my Gryphons together and spread them to the wind. I trained them for the same purpose as my own. I trained them to have the ability to preach about the good in our world. It is when the light comes out that the darkness has not a place to hide. Ryan, I am the Light. I am going to shine down on you with a brightness that will engulf your entire being.

    Jason clicks on the last file on this computer and up pops various shots of Ryan Hall’s greatest moments in FWA which include his various World Championship wins and his Hall of Fame Induction.

    Jason Gryphon:
    This Sunday, I am going to do something that no one but Dante himself has been able to do before. I am going to walk into Hell and live to tell the tale. The creature that I am going up against is not a giant, terrifying beast with three faces, one red, one black, and one a pale yellow one, he is just a man. Ryan Hall has been done everything that there is to do in this business and if he was any other person, I could have a bit of respect for the man. That is not to be because after everything that he has done to me, there can be no respect. The only thing that there is between us now is anger and hatred. I have never hated a man before. I have tried my best to see the good in people and trying to live with their little annoyances but Hall is different. “The Inferno” is a small and petty man that will only stop his vindictive behavior when I make him stop. He is just like the bully on the school yard that finds the smallest and weakest child to pick on in order to make him feel big. The problem for Ryan is that the moment he decided that I was going to be the person on the other side of his taunting; he picked the wrong man to pick on. This Sunday, I will be playing the role of George McFly to Hall’s Biff Tannen and we are at that scene at the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. Hall has twisted my arm and has hurt the people I care about and I cannot take it any longer. There is only one thing left to do now and that is to knock him out!

    Jason goes into his pocket and and again pulls out a Zippo Lighter. He drops the lighter into the pile of alcohol that he threw at the wall earlier. The room slowly begins to catch on Fire.

    Jason Gryphon:
    Winston Churchill once said “If you're going through hell, keep going.” I am going to do just that when I face off against Hall. I am going to walk into hell and spit in the devil’s eye. I want Ryan to throw everything that he has in his bag of tricks at me when we finally meet in a one on one match. I want to beat the former World Champion when he is at 100%. There are no more excuses and there is no place left to hide. It is Jason Gryphon vs Ryan Hall. It will be the ultimate battle between Good and Evil and it will be a fight for the ages. I shall challenge a raging inferno that seeks to end me but I will not let it. I WILL SURVIVE! I WILL WIN!

    Jason slowly walks out of the back room and walks over to the golden idol of the Gryphon. He begins to wheel out of the church as the flames from the fire begin to match their way toward the altar. Jason is able to get the statue out of the church and way to a safe distance. He sits infront of the idol, cast in its shadow, just as the church that was built a little over a month ago explodes in a ball of fire. Jason, safely guarded by the wings of his messenger, stand up, turns around, and watches the flames burn.


  10. #10
     
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread



    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jLtAAEyMDo (Click to enhance promo reading experience)


    I've found that in all my days as a narrator there was always one place that was harder to describe than any other. I mean I have gone into more detail about empty rooms with white walls than I have with this place. I'm talking about one of the most barren places on Earth. One of the most driest things the lord created in the seven days of creation. No I am not talking about Lucian Ace's sex life. I am talking about the Mojave Desert. You'll see less sand in Bikini Bottom, but the simple fact out of the matter is there is no sand. In fact there isn't anything. It's quite amazing to think about it really. The sun has given us life. It is what makes our world work, but at the same time whatever has the power to give life...also has the power to take it away. And this sun has not been the kindest to our dear friends out in the Mojave Desert. It has taken the soul of every thing out here. There is no life. Everything has been dried up to it's core. In the Mojave Desert is where Darwin's theory of evolution comes into affect at it's strongest. It is literally survival of the fittest. Anything out here is either dead, or it's the thing that made it dead. Vultures and savages are all that ever remain, and that's because that's all that can make it. If you aren't a savage...then well you aren't going to make it five minutes out here.

    The only thing you can hear is the sound of the wind scraping against the rocks, and the dirt, and the rotting carcasses of dead animals. Any grains of sand that remain are flying through the air, as tumbleweeds follow them from behind. Everything is normal. Nothing is out of place. Well...except one thing. There is one thing sitting in this desert that seems to stand out from everything else. Sitting there...right in the middle of this vacant desert, is a 1974 Dodge Charger, painted in black and covered in dirt, sand, and rust. The windows aren't tinted, but they might as well be with all the dirt and grime that is covering them, as you can't see inside whatsoever. But the car is on, and the sound of Conway Twitty can be heard coming from inside. Suddenly the door opens, and we finally get to see who has been sitting inside. As if we didn't already know. When I was talking about savages and vultures being the only ones that could make it here in the Mojave...that counts Dave Sullivan. Sullivan is wearing ratted out jeans, cowboy boots, and a cutoff tank top of Mac Michaud's newest shirt.


    Dave Sullivan: Morgan Freeman...shut the hell up. I'm not paying you to run your yap.

    Morgan Freeman: You're not paying me at all.

    Dave Sullivan: Exactly. You narrate, that's it. That's why you're here.

    Morgan Freeman: No, I'm here because you're crazy and won't quit imagining me.

    Dave Sullivan: Well...just be quiet while I shoot on Mac Michaud. Now, where oh where should I start. First of all I'm just kind of curious Mac...who are you going to have proofread your PPV promo this time? Broc won't do it. Neither will I. You might have to actually do it all by yourself for once! Actually, no. You'll probably just get Minnick or something to do it for you. I imagine he's still your bitch. That is of course if you even have anything to say. Unlike last week on Fight Night. What was it? You knew The Mist and I already had you beat, so you just decided not to put any effort into our match. Well Mac I hope you're not planning on doing the same thing at Red, White, and Bruised...because I like my victims to struggle a little bit. It would just be some much more satisfying for me when I beat you knowing that you tried so hard. Knowing that you had put every little ounce of effort into the match, and I was still able to kick your ass up and down the ring without even breaking a sweat. That is what I do it for. I'm not here to win titles, or to redeem myself. No, I'm here to make your life miserable. Because if by beating you makes your life just a little bit worse, then that makes me happy.

    You are a loser Mac. Explain to me how you could be a NFL player, and an EX Army guy, and a wrestler for two years now, and only be 23 years old? That's pretty pathetic. Making up stories about yourself just to make your life sound all that better. But the fact of the matter is you're a washed up wrestler, who's only beaten a bunch of scrubs. And you were only able to do that because you were on roids the entire time. Yeah, nobody has forgotten that yet. You know I've seen how close you and "The Sarge" are. A little too close if you ask me. I think maybe Mac's got some undisclosed feelings. You would have thought he was in the Navy and not the Army.

    You know what I'm just rambling now. Let me get to the point. You are weak Michaud, and I can't stand people who are weak. You know what I do to weak people? I take advantage of them...and in fact I do more than that. I get rid of them. Call me...an environmentalist if you will. People like you are polluting the world. People like you, and...like Jimmy. Oh, who's Jimmy. Well let me just....

    ...Morgan! Start narrating.

    Morgan Freeman: Oh, sorry.

    Sullivan walks over to the trunk of the Dodge Charger and opens it up. Inside is none other than a man hogtied with a gag in his mouth.

    Sullivan: This is Jimmy. You see Jimmy is afraid of heights. But I told him if he climbed up a telephone pole and pulled off the little red flag I put on top if it, that I'll give him an autograph. But if he didn't...well then there would be consequences. Jimmy, like you Mac, is a coward. And he was too scared to climb up the telephone pole. Well now Jimmy has a much bigger fear than heights, and that's what you two have in common Mac. Because that fear is me. And like Jimmy, you're going to be punished for your fears. For being weak...for being a coward.

    Sullivan pulls Jimmy out of the trunk and on to the ground as tears pour from his cowardly eyes. Sullivan goes into the front seat of the Charger, and pulls something out of the glovebox. It's a large knife. Sullivan walks over to poor Jimmy, grabs him by the neck, and violently slits his throat.

    Sullivan: That is what happens Mac! That is what happens to the weak! I am not messing around. You might call yourself an uncontrolled psycho...but the simple fact of the matter is I am. There is no limit to what I will do. I don't care if I live, die, get fired, go to jail. I don't care! You have boundaries! You have a line that you don't want to cross. For me there is no line. Be scared.

    Sullivan leaves Jimmy's body bleeding on the dry desert floor, as he gets back in his Dodge Charger and drives off into the endless desert.

  11. #11
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Cameras are rolling as the smell of smoke from a massive fire is overwhelming in the night time. There is a light haze yet you can make out the moon and the stars in the blackened night sky. There are several parked cars in a parking lot in a park that overlooks the lake. None of the cars are running and there is no one inside them. There are a few willow trees. There are a lot of couples on picnic blankets. They are cuddling up to one another as they enjoying be together with one another. A few are making out while some are laying on their picnic blankets and staring into the lake seeing the reflection of the moon and the stars. There are no sounds only the sound of the water from the lake splashing against the shore. Suddenly fireworks that go from red to blue to green to white to yellow along with other colours light up the sky. The couples gaze upon the fireworks and embrace that much more because of it. The camera crew walks away from the area were the couples are to further away on the other side of the park where there is a forest. There is a dirt trail going up the road. The camera crew slowly walks up the dirt trail with the sound of fireworks going off it heard. The camera crew walk about two minutes up the dirt trail and notice a piece of paper written in red ink on it. The camera zooms in to read it.


    July 19, 2014
    You Can’t Always Get What You Want

    I saw her today at the reception. A glass of wine in her hand. I knew she would meet her connection. At her feet was a footloose man. No, you can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime you find
    you get what you need. What I need is not peace of mind because I know I will never be at peace. I am in capable of the normal definition of happiness or even caring. You cannot rely on others or even that one friend you been through a lot with especially with reconnecting after years of being at odds. Once again I am apparently the one who doesn’t want him feel happiness or understand. Fleeting how ignorant that one man can be to not even trust me. After being told by him through it all I trust you. Where is the trust? It’s just like Jenny Ignito; being lied and deceived into feeling like I can get what I want. I need didn’t get what I need and I was left shattered. It is a smart move to cut my losses and start focusing back on what needs to be done. Priorities need to be put in order. Remembering the who and the what. Most importantly is what about me? When do I get past the whole you can’t always get what you want and get what I need part. Simply put I cannot wait around any longer for the whole if you try sometimes get what you need. I want it now and I am not being denied any longer.

    • The camera crew looks less than five feet away and there is an impression in the bush that someone walks there. The camera crew follows through the rough bush passing a log full of insects swarming it with an ant colony a few feet from it. The camera walks for two minutes till they pass through the forest and sees a bit of a clearing that has an over look of the like. The moon and the stars are out with the overwhelming smell of smoke from a blazing fire not far from where they are standing. Fireworks continue to shoot up and brighten the sky. There sitting down on a massive boulder that has moss on the bottom of it is a man. He is wearing white washed blue jeans with tears on them. He is wearing a black leather jacket unzipped with no shirt underneath. He has long brown hair. He is staring at the sky and glancing at the area in the park where couples are. He slowly turns his head towards the camera. With a thick long black beard and a light blue and a pure white eye staring at the camera is none other than Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair. Slowly he begins speaking in his all too familiar tone of voice.


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I look over to the park and all I see his couples together embracing one another. Sharing moments together as time stands still for them. Happiness is everything loving each other in that moment of time. Trusting and staying true. They have no understanding of what it means to walk alone and feel emptiness like I do. They always get what they want and what they need. My question is what about me? What about Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair when am I going to get that? When are people going to trust me and stop painting me with the same brush? All I hear is your changing and we believe in you. Yet they don’t give me a chance. We are with you but not really. I speak the truth and the truth of the matter is I am done trying to live up these exceptions off me. [*Stu pauses for a moment and shakes his head and slowly exhales*] I get along with the voices inside of my head. You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath and you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy, That’s nothing.


    • Stu pauses for a moment as the sound of fireworks is heard in the background.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Why should I continue to be something I am not when I am not even accepted for my efforts? Being denied is getting old and having someone turn their back on me and keep on saying he trusted me is even a tough one for even me to swallow. Ashley O’Ryan you turned on me this past week on Fight Night costing me my match with Jason Gryphon. When you swung that steel chair once it was a sick thump but hitting me one more time I heard nothing. I was out like a light. You wanted to purpose to Gabrielle over my dead body well you just sealed your fate with that attack. Our team is dissolved and there is no more Vodka and Venom. All there is just VENOM! [*Stu shakes his head side to side and then continues to talk*] You wanted love Ashley O’Ryan well enjoy because love never lasts. Just look at my failed relationship and your failed marriage. Hell even the person you purposed to has more failed relationships then I or anyone can count. I gave you me blessing and now look where we are. Gabrielle The Black Widow of FWA. The person who brought back venom even though it was for a short time coming. It was more than enough to ensure Ash and regained our FWA World Tag Team titles.



    • Stu glances over to couples makes out in the park and slowly turns his head back towards the camera.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Gabrielle everyone including you say I never let something go. Especially when you dragged by private life out into the world for an entire world to witness and fest on like vultures if you would. I will not forgive you for that I can got my just desserts at Mile High and a few weeks after Mile high inside a steel cage where you were bloody. Ashley and you hit off months after this and he told me to give you a chance. After I never got a chance. All is fine until Marcus contacts me. I am no sell out in terms of money or fame. He offered me a deal I couldn’t pass up. I was promised that he will push Gabrielle into getting Jenny Ignito into seeing my son Micah. He was going to say the only way to get me to stop would be helping him get Micah. I was given an offer I wanted and I took it. I wasn’t being selfish but I had no option. He wanted you and Ashley O’Ryan separated. He thought I could be the perfect wedge. I did just that and Ash hurt himself by making himself the special guest referee at Aftershock. [*Stu pauses a sick smile comes over his face and slowly rolls off his face*] He felt the tension between love and friendship and when you knocked him into the exposed steel turnbuckle it was everything Marcus could have wanted to drive you to apart.


    • Stu pauses as a smug look comes over his face he shakes head a little bit side to side.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I did the job and I should be getting my payment. However Marcus was nothing more than a greedy pig. He wanted more to drive you two apart and I told him Aftershock was enough. He didn’t like that and I told I would air who is behind my attacks or he would tell the world and alienate everyone around him especially you GABRIELLE! It wasn’t blackmail what I did threatening to tell the world. However he told me on the phone that day nobody would believe me. So Marcus took it upon himself. He stalked you house Gabrielle while you were outside with your daughter. He filmed it and paid for someone to air what he was doing live on Fight Night. He dressed in black head to toe with a ski mask and placed that letter in your mailbox and hid out of being seen. Your reaction was great. It brought pleasure seeing someone else in terror. [*Stu pauses and he smirks disturbingly.*] Marcus wanted everyone in the world to think that was myself or I had something to do with it. I said I didn’t but my voice fell on deaf ears once again because I am not trusted. Next week Ashley threatened to assault if I had anything to do with it. Next week you got a match against me one more time expect this time it is a Last man Standing Match.


    • Stu grins as the fireworks continue going up with the sound of the tide splash against the shore.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I stayed clear of you until you tried to put a hurting on me but it failed and I left you lying with The DDT. As I walked to the back Veronique open her mouth about how dare I put you down like I just did. Like you Gabrielle she didn’t have all her facts in a row. She swung with a right then it was my turn and boy did she go down hard and fast. Blood trickled down her head as a pool of blood surrounded her head. What I did to her was justified because she tried to assault me. Don’t you believe me? [*Stu develops a crazed look on his face as he pauses briefly before continuing to speak.*] Of course you don’t believe me but it’s the truth and you know it. Now this past Fight Night the cat’s out of the bag as Marcus; daddy dearest finally revealed that it was him. I found a strange pleasure seeing you pure sadness. You couldn’t believe your father could do such a thing. He is the same one who has done so much for you including kissing your cut and bruises better. Look at me Gabrielle and hear me. Evil doesn’t just lie in people like me who are viewed as disease in society. Breaking every moral standard that is put in place. Showing that humanity isn’t cracked up to what we have made it out to be.


    • Stu pauses he clenches his right hand multiple times as he closes eyes for a brief moment then continues to talk.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: It is nothing more than an illusion there to hide the evil men can do. We live up high and not dwell down bellow. Hopefully your father brought that ugly truth into reality for you. Gabrielle this match is critical for you. All this time saying how easy I am to beat and how I am no threat means it’s put up for shut up time. You’re the one who said I am nothing more than a sad man riding on Ashley O’Ryan coat tails. He did the work while I slacked off. Now tell me did I slack off when I left you blood inside a steel cage and just about set you on fire? When I just about set you on fire there was no fear of who you are and what you are capable of doing. I did it simply to get more than retribution for bring my personal problems to the light. Yes you are the second longest reigning FWA World Champion on the Fight Nigh. I can give you your due there. However I am not the man who cannot stay down. I was put thrown off a top of cell by Wolf and slammed through the cell roof the mat. I still got up. I walked out on my own power. I am known to take punishment and pain. Hell I even get off in being in pain. It reminds me I am very much alive.


    • Stu pauses as he stops clenching his right fist. He glares into the camera.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: What matches have you been in where the threshold of pain is taken to next the level? From being inside a steel cage or a cell. Or using weapons like chairs, chains, ladders and tables. You were against me in a steel cage were your blood covered the white canvas like jelly spread across a piece of bread. You felt pain and smelled gas. Fear and pain were there. You had people coming down to protect you. Even the people who couldn’t give a damn for you came out to make sure [*Stu points at himself with his right hand*] I didn’t go too far. That’s how much concern there was for your safety because of my course of action. Your best option now outside of not showing up is high risk. High risk and speed played well into our match at Aftershock. However this is a Last Man Standing match and the phrase high risk for high reward cannot be said any clearer. There is no pin falls or submissions in the match. Whoever cannot get up by the count of ten loses. I am ready to reintroduce the world to my venom. Did you like that cobra in your bag I thought its colour matches the colour of your eyes and your outfit quite well.


    • Stu smile sinisterly as the flapping of a bird’s wing is heard of in a distance. While the fireworks show continues.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: There is no salavation for me and there is no better tomorrow for me. My humanity is long since gone. Any belief that people are giving me a chance is gone. Ashley O’Ryan is on his own and will soon be saddened yes again. Along with everyone figuring out I wasn’t riding anyone’s coat tails. The belief that people get second chances is gone. Gabrielle this is the end of the line. I am the Khmer Rouge at Red White and Bruised and from that night forward. I am the most sadistic, unforgiving man on the planet. I am living breathing hate. Hatred runs high and my brain plots my next attacks. My ears hear that much better from the screams I am near. Venom runs high through my veins. There is no turning back now. Everyone and everything brought this upon them. For the second time in my life the world has rejected me. What transgressions from now to the future are all on your hands. People think I haven’t changed... [*Stu smirks*] well for the first time in their lives they will be correct. I will prove them right and they will regret that. There is no self loathing here just a warm feeling that I will feel comfortable in my one skin. People will see me for who I am and will stay away. Love is gone. I hate love. Love hates. This is finally happening.


    • Stu pauses and stares at the moon as red fireworks go off just bellow it. He then stares back at the camera with an unforgiving sadistic look on his face.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: My name will be crested once again and the talk of being old and relevance will cease to exist. Doubts are going to be gone from those pathetic enough that they think they can slay me. Gabrielle you are their knight in shinny armor, their bright hope or whatever they want to call you. They want you to slay me. Ending by your means is what they hope for. Especially you for yourself. Both us have a lot to prove. You want me gone so you can be in peace but have the blackened memory of your father’s betrayal to remember for all of eternity. Slay me if I let you unleash my venom and weave nightmares at Red White and Bruised I shall. You can’t get always get what you want. But if you try sometime you find. You get what you need.



    • Stu spreads his arms to the side as a familiar sound of a crow is cawing as the last firework lights up the sky with the tides splashing against the shore. Moon and stars shine in the night sky with the haze of smoke from a wild fire not to far from the park. The air smells of campfires as the camera feed slowly ends.


    End of scene.
    credit to xxhhhxx
    IT'S NOT A SMALL WORLD. IT'S A PAINFUL UGLY WORLD!

  12. #12
    I Can Smell You.
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    It All Comes Crashing Down




    Alester: What the HELL were you thinking!?

    You sit in the living room of what used to be a successful orphanage, run by Alester. Shortly after your leaving, the orphanage was closed down. Every couple of days, a new child would disappear without a trace, police investigating the matters found no evidence of who could have been kidnapping them, if that's even what it was.

    You were sitting on the red, leather couch as Alester spoke to you. Something seemed off about him, he was usually calm, always having a level head and a firm grip on the situation, but he was acting different, he seemed worried, nervous, small beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead as he paced back and forth.

    Alester: Why didn't you come get me when the need came across, what if you had been caught!?

    You: Alester, you've been teaching me everything about stealth, and capturing my prey efficient-

    Alester: That knowledge is only supposed to be used if you're in danger! I never said for you to use these skills to go an attempt murder!

    You: I'm sorry, Alester, okay? I couldn't fight it! I needed it! They wanted me to do it!

    Alester: They? You hear them again?

    You: They're getting more violent, I'm scared, Alester.

    Alester sighs.

    Alester: I'm sorry too, Jacob, it's just that I'm worried. Worried for you. If you were caught...I'd lose everything that I care about. You're the only thing left that I care about, everything else is...gone...they're gone.

    A small amount of tears grow in Alester's eyes.

    Alester: I'm sorry, Jacob, but I need to go.

    He hurries and walks out of the room.

    The scene then dissolves, a new one forming out of the darkness.

    You had been training with Alester for five years, getting stronger, faster, and smarter. His training was difficult for the first couple of weeks, but then it started to get easier, he conditioned your body with difficult exercise, after that part of the training was finished, he taught you about how to be stealthy, quiet, how to acquire your prey. He also taught you how to fight better, teaching you most of what he knows.

    You sit alone in the living room of the orphanage, thinking of all the events that led up to where you were now. The memories torture you. Just thinking of all of it hurts, it makes the need grow, you need to harm, to kill, you need a way to escape that feeling of sadness. Just then, Alester bursts into the room, looking pleased, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

    Alester: I think I've finally found something to help you quench your need!

    You: You have? What?

    Alester: Well I've taught you all you need to know about fighting, so I thought this would fit when I saw it.

    He held up the piece of paper, it seemed to be a registration form of some sort.

    You: W
    hat is that?

    Alester: The FWA. A wrestling company, you'd get to express your anger by beating on someone.

    You: That does sound fun. What do I do?

    Alester: First you fill out this form and turn it in to their sign ups office, there's an address at the top. Just remember, you are there to cause pain,
    not to kill. Come as close as you like, but do not kill!


    You: Understood. Mmm...I'm excited by this. I'm ready, I'll go now.

    Alester: Unfortunately, I will not be able to come with you, personal matters have come up that I cannot ignore, you'll be doing this alone so you need to remember what I taught you. Don't let your need consume you!

    You joined the FWA as a low-card wrestler, taking The Mist as your name, as it was what Alester taught you to be, you made a quick rival by the name of Tobias Robinson, you hated him. He was cocky, arrogant, annoying, and he kept comparing himself to the Bible. Amber was a Christian. He doesn't compare to anything in that book, Amber wouldn't have put her faith in someone that was anything close to what that man was like.
    Tobias beat you at every corner, just barely beating you in every match you had against him. Your hatred toward him grew and grew, you wanted to murder him to finally shut him up, but Alester said murder was bad, so that must mean it's true. You eventually lost a fourth time to him, embarrassed and angry about losing to that clown, you left the FWA, however, a few years later you returned after seeing another signup sheet, you wanted to return to help you get rid of all of the rage, to get rid of that need.


    The Mist runs down the side of the side of the road, he'd never had a car, he always had to walk or run wherever he needed to go unless Alester drove him. He continued running until he had finally gotten to his destination, he arrived at a hospital and ran inside, hurrying up to the front desk.

    The Mist: Where is he!?

    Receptionist: I'm going to need a name, who are you talking about?

    The Mist: Alester! Alester Richardson!

    After typing the name into the computer, she points to a hallway.

    Receptionist: He's in the ICU, down that hall. It's the second door on the left.

    The Mist runs down the hall entering the room that Alester was in, there was one doctor, writing down a few things on a clipboard, looking up when he sees The Mist enter the room.

    Doctor: You must be the Jacob he was referring to, come here, I'd like to tell you something.

    The Mist walks up to him and the Doctor whispers in his ear.

    Doctor: I hate to say it, but he doesn't look to good, he probably won't make it.

    The Mist jerks away from, stumbling backwards a bit.

    The Mist: What do you mean he probably won't make it!? I know him! He can pull through anything!

    Doctor: Sir, he hit by a car. Honesty, him being alive right now is a miracle, he had multiple broken bones, internal bleeding, and most of his ribs were crushed.

    The Mist: I don't care! I-I know Alester! H-He can do anything! You don't know what he's capable of!

    The doctor sighs.

    Doctor: Listen, I can understand your denial, all I'm saying is, you should probably say your goodbyes.

    The Mist looks over, seeing a barely conscious Alester writing something down in a book, seemingly in a hurry, once he sees that The Mist is walking up to him, he puts the pen down and closes the book. It was horrible, Alester was scarred and bruised everywhere, one of his legs elevated and in a cast. He looks at you, coughing as he reaches to pick up the book. He slowly hands it to The Mist. After the book is in The Mist's hands, his arm drops, the heartbeat monitor giving a long, drawn out, beep that wouldn't end. Multiple doctors rushed into the room, pushing The Mist out of the room.

    He stands still, looking at the door in shock. His emotions boiled up, he felt so many at the same time, fear, shock, loneliness, hatred, sadness, he ran out of the hospital, as tears began to fill his eyes, he kept running, even though he was exhausted and his legs were burning, he kept running, running until he got to the large, manor-like house of Alester's, he burst through the door, sobbing as he ran down the hall and into the bathroom, leaning over the sink and staring at his reflection. He slowly lifted up the book, looking at the first couple of pages. It was a diary.
    The first few pages gave a long description of why he was writing in this, he flipped the pages until he noticed something, as you go farther into the book, the handwriting, and grammar get worse, nothing like what The Mist would expect Alester to write like. He reads an entry near the middle of the book,

    He was trying to kill children today. i caught him in an alley, about to kill two kids. i had to handle it. im not a bad person. im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not im not. i had to get rid of the evidence. it wasn't my fault hes a failure. IT ISN'T M FAULT THAT I HAD TO KILL THEM. IM NOT A BAD PERSON. IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM-

    The words look like they would've kept going, but they were cut off by end of the page. He looks at the date in shock, it was the same day that Alester had stopped The Mist from killing those two kids. The Mist looks back a couple of pages.

    I enjoyed hearing the screaming of my latest victim. The children at this orphanage. They yell so loudly. I had fun today. That little boy, I don't even know what his name was, I don't care, his screams were so high pitched. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had fun. I had f-

    The Mist was very confused and frightened by all of this, he turned to last page, the page Alester was writing on before you came into the room. As he reads, his breathing gets more and more uneven.

    Jacob. I know you'll be reading this. I know I'm going to die. There is something that I'm going to tell you. It is your fault that I'm about to die. I died because I was getting food to feed YOU. It's all YOUR fault! Know this, Jacob, YOU killed me, YOU FUCKING KILLED ME. Another thing, I always HATED you. I just stood by you, protecting you, because it helped ME, ME. I don't care about YOU, that's why I'm telling you this. If I'm going to leave this world, then I might as well leave it with you, broken, ready to KILL. IT WAS YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FUCKING FAULT.

    The book dropped out of The Mist's hands, he looks at himself in the mirror, his eyes watery and twitching slightly.

    The Mist: It-It was all a lie. Everything he told me. All nothing.

    The Mist lets out a long scream as he punches the mirror, shattering it, blood leaking out of his hand. He picks up one of the larger shards of glass and holds up his hair, he scrapes the glass shard through his hair, cutting off most of it, giving him short, terribly groomed hair. He drops the piece of the broken mirror, talking to himself as if there were other people there.

    The Mist: I-I've never felt this feeling. This pain. This loss. It hurts! I need to get rid of it! I need to harm something, someone! Danny Toner, I'm going to kill you! I'm going to beat you until my own knuckles are stripped of their skin! You are my only way to escape this pain! I need you! Please! Come-come help me! Let me hurt you! I want you to feel the same hurt I do! I don't care what kind of money or anything you have, nothing will able to fix what I do to you! You're my scapegoat! Your my only way out of this feeling!

    I'm going to destroy you, kill you, eliminate you! I don't care about this stupid title anymore, I just want you to feel exactly how I do. I'm going to break my own fists from punching you, I won't stop. I'll never stop. I need someone to feel this same pain! I choose you, Toner! You're going regret ever going into the ring with me! I-I can restrain myself until our match, I want you to feel all of this bottled up pain. Amber. I'm going to make him hurt! Trust me. I'll hurt him. I'll make him sorry that he ever thought for second that he could win on money alone. I have no limits now. Now that I know that everything Alester taught me was a lie, I won't hold back for second!


    The Mist takes a second to calm himself, breathing deeply to steady himself.

    The Mist: If there's anything I hate more than anything else, it's pretentious, annoying, insignificant, worms that think they're better than everyone else, well the fact is, you aren't better than me, Toner, you probably just bought your way into the business, who knows, you probably have a stunt double or some other lowlife peasant fight your matches for you. You're a worm to me, Danny, a tiny, disgusting, irritating, annoying worm that's about to get squashed. You are my prey now, Toner, and I never let my prey escape. You are my prey, and I will break you. If you die during this match, that's your fault, I don't care. Prey is prey, you're just another insignificant peasant that's about to get a fast wake up call. Enjoy your life while it lasts. It might be over by the time I'm done with you.

    Alester lied to me, everything he said to me was a lie, so that must include killing! With Alester gone I can kill whoever I want! And guess what! You're first, Toner, I'm going to hurt you, break you, torture you, I'm going to drive my knee into your back and pull back so much, your ass will be touching your head! You'll snap in half across my knee, your intestines...your beautiful intestines spilling out onto the floor. Your blood will be all across the ring, it'll look like a red carpet, so you won't feel too far from home. See? I'm a generous guy. In fact, I'm doing this world a favor by getting rid of smut like you. You won't be missed. Your death will be a blessing! People will finally be rid of your annoying voice, your pompous attitude, your insignificance. It all annoys me. I'm bettering this world, I get rid of the insignificant roaches like you. I'm going to warn you, Toner, there is no buying me out. I don't care about who you are, or how much money you have. There isn't a way to get out of this, you'll actually have to fight, and prey that I'm having an off day. But I doubt even that could save you. I'm going to terrorize you, and once you're finally begging for death, begging for me to end it, I will answer you. Your death will be slow! Gruesome! Painful! Excruciating! I-I'm getting excited just thinking about it. Thinking of how much pain you'll have. I-I need you! I need you be my outlet! I'm going to kill you!

    The Mist begins laughing crazily as the scene fades into darkness.


  13. #13
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Time to make a Statement...




    *The background is white with only three visible red letters, that read “FWA”. just in front of those letters is a black podium centered on top of a stage. As the camera zooms out even more we see multiple reporters at this event, three is a low buzz among them that can be heard as they discuss tonight’s events among themselves. Just then we hear the very familiar voice of Alana Allure set to music as her song “Band Up” plays; cameras in the room begin to flash and click as pictures are being snapped of Ted and James entering the room and accending the three stairs that lead to the riser, and then the microphone attached to the podium


    We see James first wearing a grey button down shirt with a black tie and black pants, Ted follows him in through the door way wearing a white button down with the top three buttons un done and black pants and shoes, looking a bit more casual than James. The two men take position next to one another behind the podium.*




    J:Tonight at Red, White, and Bruised we have been challenged. By two men who claim to have the same goal as us, by two men who by very definition are confused as to who they are. Tonight, we face two men calling themselves The Yurei.


    T: Now we are two guys always looking for the next fight, for the next chance to prove that we are the best tag team in this business today. Like it or not, its a fact and week after week we come out here and prove just that. We are here to tell you that this week will be no different than last week. Last week we told you what was going to happen. We told you that our path to glory and greatness and those titles Kennedy and Carter have, started.


    Don’t exspect us to go looking back, don’t think for a second that we are looking to recapture anything, if it is not already clear to you, this is a different time in the FWA, and it is a different FWA, and I’ll be the first to say this is a different, and much more dangerous lion at my side.



    J: Yurei, are figures in Japanese folklore, similair to what you may more commonly call ghosts. The name consists of two kanji, meaning faint or dim and rei meaning soul or spirit. So in what I plainly see as an attempt to sound more fierce than either of them are capable of being, one of them thought this name may intimdate, and to the uninformed perhaps they are right. To me they are merely but a handful of those to follow in the footsteps of the only ninja this business has ever seen.


    Only in doing so in some half baked manor, they willfully refer to themselves as ghosts, as that which is not really there. Faint and dim souls indeed. Do not exspect me to be impressed by your defeat of APAB, because at best all you two did were sweep up old dusty leaving that were serving no purpose except to stink the entire room.



    T: Izaya, how did last week feel? How much did you enjoy taking out your favorite tag team in the whole world? I just had to ask since you told us all what a fanbiy you are of old Dan and Andrew. I hope they did not give you a false sense of hope. I really hope you have awoken to what Kazuka was trying to impress on you. Now, while I am certain you faound last week to be easy, this time and this match things will be very diffferent. You see as you boys com rolling into the Wells Fargo Arena, I don’t want you two to be too full of yourselves. All you did last week was equal to you sweeping some light dust off of a floor.


    What you need to undersatnd is that we are the Pride and we lay down for nobody, nothing you can say and nothign you can do will make us quit. We are here in the FWA to take what we want and to get there we have been told to go through you two. Let me make myself so clear even a cave man will understand. We are going to go through you, not around, not over, not under, but through you.





    J: Kazuka, you would do well to warn your brother as best you can about the dangers of buying too much into your own hype. Your matching masks will strike no fear in the heart of these lions you face. If you both like to play some speacial make believe game then be my guest. We won’t stop you from playing out whatever little fantasy you have going on in your mind. However, neither will we have any part of it accept this much. Tonight we four will enter an FWA ring and we will fight, tooth and nail with every ounce of our very being we will fight to stamp out your very exsistence. Because will you and your brother like playing little fantasy games about being ghosts, because you both have some kind of childlike hang up; my brother and I have real serious business to attend to.


    Everybody who can hear my voice, had better take heed. Take a ong good look in these eyes gentlemen, there is no quit, no fear, not even the slightest bit of humor. This is the FWA. This is the big leagues and tonight at least untill that bell rings, you two stand as obstacles, as roadblocks in our way. However I can not let you stop me, and I will not let you stop and these fans deserve tag team champions that they can support, that they can sheer for, that are proud fighters not afraid to show there faces, or be who they are.


    What you two have before you are two men who are not going to take any s***, inside the ring or out of it. We are two men who are going to bring the fight to you, whether it is in the street, the back, the ring, it can be anywhere and at anytime. Call yourselves Casper and Horton hear’s a who for all I care. We are hungry and we are hunting those title and tonight you two will be our next victims, you two will serve as yet another meal on our path that will culminate in our taking our rightful place atop the division. We have only just begun to leave a trail of destruction in our wake.



    T: Kazuka, I hope you are ready and I hope you know your brother much better than Lucian Ace did. See what I mean by that is if he walks away, as he has a little habit of doing, understand that as my brother and I take you apart, it is because we have to. One thing you should full well know about this business is that if you are ever in a situation where somebody has to watch your back, you had beeter damn well know that he is down. Tonight, the going is going to get more than tough for you boys and history has a way of repeating its self so you had better watch your back since Izaya showed us all his true colors when he walked out on Ace. You see I know I can trust the man at myside, heel seeing as he has won multiple tag title with multiple partners, I have more to prove than he does! I know who is watching my back, do you?




    *As they stop speaking camera flashes begin going off once more causing sparkles and flashes of light to fill the screen. The two men raise there hands up high in the air and after a few more moemnts of picture taking they make their way down and off of the stage as they exit the same door they came into the room from as the scene is replaced by only this picture, as their music plays once more.*


  14. #14
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    ~Legacies~

    ~Legacies~

    The sky grows darker by the seconds as the sun sets out over the ocean’s horizon, casting an orange glow into the inky sky. With what light remains, we can see fully bloomed trees as we climb the mountain, but the leaves are limp, not being able to draw enough water from the dry dusty ground. Small houses are dotted around lifeless fields, home to no more than few shoots. By the door of one of the small bungalows, Shane McLean rests against the wall, staring out over the small village. Smudges of the orange dirt cover his t-shirt and shorts, and beads of sweat on his forehead trickle down his forehead. A light on the porch is surrounded by insects, and what at first appear to be a pair of bats turn out to be huge moths battling to get near the bulb. One swoops down and McLean casually swats it away with his hand lightly.


    Shane McLean:
    “My world is as far different from this world as could be, but once, this was my world. Jamaica. The real Jamaica, not the paradise that tourists flock to, but the hard outback, where money, food and water are scarce, but these people, my family, fight to get by and appreciate what they have. Though I grew up in Scotland, occasionally in summers I would leave behind the luxuries of the western world, put aside the always necessary rain jacket, and make my way here to my grandmothers farm, where my mother was born.”



    McLean steps down from the porch and begins to walk, stopping to clap a goat tied to a post behind it’s ear.


    Shane McLean:
    “I always enjoyed helping out with the farm chores, though I was probably just getting in the way. I especially liked bringing all the goats in towards the houses, though at the time I never made the connection between bringing in BaaBaa and the curry later that evening, and the mysterious disappearance of the fattest the following morning.”



    Shane begins to walk down the unlevel surface, placing his feet as best he can so as not to trip.


    Shane McLean:
    “But my visits stopped as I began my wrestling career. I was too busy, and despite my pride in my roots here, I began to forget my family that lived here still. Until, last week, I got the call from an uncle I hadn’t spoken to in many years, and my elation at hearing from him was soon crushed to discover my grandmother had passed away. I tried to visualise her face, but all I could focus on was my match on Fight Night, and my upcoming Championship defence this Sunday. By the time I made it here, I had missed the funeral, and that is something I shall have to live with, regretting. But that is the life of an FWA Star, not just glories and fame, but regrets and heartbreak also.”



    McLean uses his hands to get down a particularly large drop in the landscape, and when he wipes the sweat from his forehead he is left with another orange smudge from the dirt. He feels his knee tenderly, knowing it’s not enjoying this clambering around. He decides to a break and sits on the ground he has just climbed down from, and looks in the direction of a small building. On the side of it, the word “Bar” has been painted by hand, and music is drifting out from it.


    “Won’t you help to sing
    These songs of freedom?
    ‘Cause all I ever have
    Redemptions Songs
    Redemption Songs”



    Shane McLean:
    “Redemption. That’s what Ryan Rondo wants. He feels as though he can redeem his acts against the FWA and it’s fans by winning the FWA World Championship for them. I can agree with the intent, but what he must realise is it’s not the winning Championships that they love him for. They love the man he is, and that is why they were devastated when he turned on them in the past. Turned on me in particular. I was the one who felt his act of betrayal physically, although the world felt it’s effects. Now Rondo has realised the err of his ways, and day by day regains the trust of us all. Not necessary because it is wise to trust him, but because we really do want to. I don’t doubt his intentions, but greed can warp even the best of us, even me once. We will always know it is there now, though he has the ability to go so far without underhanded tactics, and one day I will cheer him on when he does become the FWA World Champion, because it will happen. This is why he was my handchosen opponent, because he deserves this chance now, a chance to win the big one. Even if that win comes at my expense, if he does so with honour, then I shall gladly extend my hand in front of the world and shake the hand of the new champion. I just don’t intend to do so yet.”


    McLean stands up, but he catches singing of the next song from the bar.


    “It’s not all that glitters is gold
    ‘Alf that story has never been told
    So now you see the light
    Stand up for your right, Come On
    Get Up, Stand Up
    Stand Up For Your Rights
    Get Up, Stand Up
    Don’t Give Up The Fight”



    Shane McLean:
    “Whilst Ryan may have learned his lesson and stuck to it, PAJ did not manage to. Neither of them have yet realised their quests should be solely focused on winning the World Championship, but the Artist Formerly Known As PAJ has become bitter once more. He may have briefly seen the light as it were, but he felt it should have been his given right to face me for the Championship. Maybe it’s my fault that he has turned back to his old ways, perhaps if I had granted him the match he would still be on the path to righteousness, but alas, I did not hand my neighbour down south what he wanted, and that one crack broke through his armour. Regardless of whatever reinvention of himself he decides to be, he shall not be getting hand outs from me. His talents deserve him this match though, but his attitude deserves him to leave empty handed.”



    McLean walks further downhill in silence, and comes to a small church. Here there is a difference to the earth, as one area shows signs of recent disturbance. A small gravestone sits by it, and flowers are atop it, some fresh, others withered. Shane stares down upon his grandmother’s grave.


    Shane McLean:
    “This greeted me when I arrived. I had decided to stay to compete in my match on Fight Night instead of flying straight out here, and when I finally did manage to get here the funeral had taken place. What had I expected? That they would hold up the events for her only grandson? The lad who had not been to visit in over a decade? The face they only recognised now from their TV set?

    I thought of life and death that night, and each night since. Death is the final judgement. What did we do in our lives? Did we accomplish what we set out to? Will we be remembered fondly? Will we be remembered at all? I can say yes to all three of those. I am amongst the most decorated stars in FWA's history, I am popular amongst millions and I have cemented a legacy that shall last years after me. The woman who lays here, my granny, did not accomplish things on the scale I have, and out with family and neighbours, her memory shall fade soon. But her accomplishments far outshine those of myself and my two opponents this Sunday. We may complain in our comfortable lives of sitting behind a computer, hammering a nail into a piece of wood or lacing up our boots and taking to the ring that our lives are tough, but we must always remember those less fortunate than ourselves, working with what little they have, overcoming hardships that we cannot fathom, not for the luxuries of a new car or the latest smartphone, but just to survive. And these people do it with a smile that can only be gotten from finding the littlest of victories in every day life.

    She may not have had a big shiny golden belt, but this woman was a Champion. Her legacy shall be nameless, but it shall be defined in the bloodline of those borne of her bloodline, who have taken the strength that she had in life. A bloodline which has seen championship winning wrestlers and boxers and talented musicians, to real heroes: firemen, doctors, mothers, fathers.

    My every accomplishment is seen in front of the world and my name is celebrated, but it is for these unsung champions, those who shall never have their name etched into record books or have their own action figure or have their face on posters, for these people who can take their final breath and know that they did their best and they did good. For people like my granny, who struggled to get by but would still make sure the neighbourhood cats and dogs did not go hungry, for those who are scared if needles but still donate blood for those in need, for the child who approaches the lonely outcast in class and asks if they want to partner up. For those that don't see a person by their race, gender, sexual preference, how they dress, how they walk or how they talk, they just see a person, they see family. For everyone who cares, be proud of your legacy.

    Rondo, Jackson, all of our legacies shall be remembered, they have only just begun and I am sure there is much more to come for all of us. But one day, that ends, and our names shall be forever remembered, but a legacy built on selfish hunger will never mean as much as one built on love and caring. You will never truly hold the FWA World Championship until you are holding it not for yourself, but for others. Are either of you ready to do that?"



    Shane rests a hand upon the gravestone and turns away as a solemn tear runs from under his sunglasses. Behind him, miles out to sea, the sun now fully disappears behind the horizon, but despite the darkness now fully soaking these lands, light is still cast from the windows and stars. There will always be light in the darkness, as long as all of us are willing to cast that glow. We are the lights in the dark world around us. But how brightly shall you shine?
    ~The Ace of Diamonds~
    ~Shane McLean~
    Quote Originally Posted by AzaleanShake View Post
    may have been too high to English at one point. My bad.

  15. #15
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    Let's play 'War'



    The scene is overdramatic and fairly cliché. The swaying light hands from the ceiling and illuminates the center of the room in a circular radius, leaving the corners of this square setting pitch black for spiders, mice and whatever other creepy animals exist in the present. Beneath the swaying light is a round table covered with a felt top. The felt has markings on it to illustrate specific spots for card players to place chips, cards and other objects. A single chair, unoccupied, rests on the opposite end of the table. Within this setting is life, although we don't see it quite yet. The life is underneath a deck of cards, red in color, resting on the felt table. In that deck of cards, is hope. Above all else, hope and life and risk and chance and the possibility of winning.

    Outside this room, we haven't a clue what exists. We don't know anything about the hallway just beyond the door, or the faded, dirty, old window covering half a wall. We don't know what city, state or country this room is in, except that it does exist, in some form, whether concrete for us to feel and sense or an abstract mental image imprinted in our brains.

    Images. Life. Chance. Risk. Just flipping over the deck of cards.

    Like said before, the light illuminates a circular radius of the room, with the four corners and walls hidden in the darkness. There's another life presence, one not so metaphorical, in this room. From those corners walks Shannon O'Neal, dressed with a fedora, jeans showing off her curves, flowing blond hair around three inches past her shoulder blades, and a black shirt showing just enough cleavage to make us think she's easy, but not enough to make us think she's one-drink easy. Shannon steps behind the singular chair and seats herself at the table. The rock-n-roll chick carefully picks up the deck of cards and shuffles as if she was a blackjack dealer on the Vegas strip.


    "Alana Allure got damn lucky. She flipped over those cards, three-handed, and caught a flush draw right down on the river. That's all Fight Night was. Alana Allure gettin' lucky."


    Shannon continues shuffling the cards while staying seated on the chair.

    "There 're a lot of reasons, many excuses and some valid. Mackenzie Roberts was in the hand. I had to worry about her, and couldn't give all my attention to Alana. As I focused too much on Mackenzie, and knew I had her beat dead like Axl Rose's voice, right in the end it was Alana coming from behind like the opportunistic pop girl stealing victory. That's how I think of Alana, a pop-rock band like Hootie and the Blowfish coming in at the end to steal the wave of energy and fandom from the true rock-n-roll icons like Metallica, Nirvana and Soundgarden. So I gotta make a better effort to keep her in my sight. Without Mackenzie Roberts stinkin' up the FWA like Britney Spears, it'll be a helluva' lot easier."


    Shannon places the deck of cards on the table and flips one over. It's an 8 of hearts, a medium-level card meant for medium-level card players.

    "All is far in war, right? So, let's play a little 'war.' It's a game purely based on luck. The higher card wins. And right now, Alana, you've got a 50-50 shot of winning. The eight is right in the middle. Seven below it, and six above it. Half the deck means you win. A small percentage is a tie, and a larger percentage just shy of half means you lose."

    Shannon flips over another card, another eight. This one is a clubs suit.


    "War. Sometimes you're a dead lock with your opponent. That's how I view Alana Allure when we step in the ring with one another. I know I haven't been anything more than mediocre in my short stint as a rookie fighter in the FWA. I know I haven't been the impact player, the champion waiting to happen. I've coasted. But I view my level the same as Alana's. Right now, we're flat even. Three years ago, or whenever Alana won the FWA Women's Championship, I could've done the same. That's how much better the talent is nowadays. Dinorah Redgrave is one of the best ever, on her best days. Saddle Sally is an underrated champion I've faced and lost to numerous times. And Beatrixx Black is...well, we're going to find out at Red, White and Bruised, won't we?

    Alana, though, proved nothing to me on Fight Night. All she did was prove she can come behind and steal a win. All she proved is she's mediocre, at best, and needs to up her game in a one-on-one match with me."


    The next card Shannon flips over, in the battle setting, is a 10 of hearts.

    "A little better, Alana. A little better. But not good enough. I am untapped potential in the FWA. No one knows where my ceiling is, how high it goes. We all know the best of Alana Allure. We know your best days, and your worst. A 10 of diamonds pretty much sums it up."

    Shannon flips over a fourth card, and this one causes her a slight chuckle. Almost a sadistic chuckle, as if she knows some other hidden secret.

    "But me...I could be an ace. Or a king, or a queen, or a jack. I've got you beat. Looking at this card, I've got you beat, Alana. But that's not even me. That's not even how high I can go, Alana. You don't even know what's in store. The FWA doesn't even know what's in store. Easter eggs have been laid throughout the weeks. Many questions. Few answers. What does the red diamond mean? Soon enough, you'll find out."

    Shannon flips over one last card, just for show. She looks at it and the other card, with the tops showing to the camera and the contents hidden for a bit, before flipping both around right in the camera's face.

    All we see is the color red, on both cards, and the complex drawings and diagrams associated with "face cards," a jack, queen or king. Either a diamond or heart. And then...the scene goes to black.


  16. #16
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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread


    Enter the Lioness

    *We see a limo rolling down the street heading for the arena. The shot cuts to inside the rear of the limo,where we see Alana Allure seated alone in the vehicle. A seat belt across her lap and gray jogging pants and white T-shirt with a pair of all white Nike shoes. Her hair is down and there is purple colored lipstick on her lips.*


    Alana: What would you say, Shannon? Am I rusty? A penny for your thoughts, do tell us what was running through that little mind of yours as you were watching me win our triple threat match last week. Now you can't tell me you have not been looking forward to this match since it bit made last week.

    *Her fingers spread wide apart as Alana seems to take note of the seat as she feels it by rubbing her hands across the seat, moving her hands out and then back in toward her sides.*

    This time there will be no Mackenzie involved and no need for me to get you out of my way. You and I are going to settle something right here tonight in Philadelphia. You are going to get to try and tell the world that my convincing win was a fluke,or some kind of luck. When the truth is that once again I have outsmarted my opponents and won a match some said I was not supposed to. After all my time off, I walked in the door and did what I said I would. I told you all I would win, I told you all I have come back to climb my way back to the women's championship.

    I hope you learned some things last week Shannon. I hope you learned that I am not the woman to play with in that ring. You should have learned whatnot is like to face a real former champion. All those, quote "classic women" are out of your league, just like I am. Oh and trust me I know what I am saying, I also know how to back up every word that comes out of my mouth.

    You got one thing right last week when you said I am by no means new to this. I tried to warn you, I tried to prepare you for what was coming, but you chose not to listen, and in the end you could not leave well enough alone and now we have this fight in our hands. However at least in the case if you and I things do not have to be all drawn out. Fortunately for you, that this soon after my arrival you are going to know that I am in fact the better talent. Make no mistake either, my aim is to prove it to you, just like I did last week. Say what you want, go ahead point out I beat Mackenzie, which only illustrates the fact that I did something you couldn't, and that's win, if you have not caught on yet.

    Look, its like I said last week, you have potential and with a little direction you can go far in this business. You're still learning and paying your dues and there's nothing wring that. I want you to understand that there is no shame in you listing to me tonight. I am a former and soon to be two time women's champion. Just you wait and see what happens after I whisper a little something in your ear tonight. You will get to watch me march on to the title.

    *The car comes Toma stop and she releases the seat belt. Then slides across the seat to her right as the door opens with the driver standing behind the door with one large Oakley backpack that he hands Alana. Taking the bag she makes a few steps to her right and enters a door, leaving the dimly lit parking area behind her. Entering the back hall way as a crew member comes by and she says something to him and he points to her left. With a smile she nice at him and turns to her left and begins talking to the camera again.*

    Alana: I'm already in your head Shannon. I know I am, I know you are questioning whether or not you can beat me. That's doubt and its in your mind and it is line if the reasons I'm going to beat you, not the only but one. Look,don't get me wring, I remember what its .like being new, trying to make an impact it get to a position to leave a mark. I'm just going to tell you that I think you will become if those people someday, but that day is not today. Your time just has not come yet, now I belie be someday it will. The thing about someday though, is that it may not be anytime soon.

    The fact is this, I am on a mission and it is my own personal one. I have no problem telling you that, telling management that and telling the fans that. Why not let the truth be known, for me food my own agenda, step one is reclaiming the women's' title. As quiet as the secrecy seems kept that should be every woman's goal join the roster. I don't care how many I have to go through, I don't care how many times I have to beat all the challengers between me and the champion. That's what Shannon is tonight, she is someone set in my way, some one who wants to stop me, I realize the importance of our YouTube pre-show match. I am going to take another step here tonight and an important one at that because with this win. We take another step, you are going to learn what The Pride is tonight. Of course that also means you are my prey. I had a feeling it would come to me and you one on one, and tonight you are going to be mauled by the FWA's lioness!

    *Just then she arrives at a door with her name on it. She grabs the handle opening the door and steps inside the room as then door closes behind her and the shot focuses on her name and then fades to black.*

  17. #17

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    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread




    Chris Kennedy's hotel room. One week ago. One half of the tag team champions, The Astonishing Chris Kennedy, sits behind a large, oakwood desk. In front of him, his laptop computer, his Samsung Galaxy phone, a half empty bottle of scotch and a glass beside it, an ash tray housing a lit cigarette, and a composition notebook with some random texts and scribbles. The Astonishing Chris Kennedy is in his leather computer chair, reclined back as he sees the front page on WWE.com. The headline reads "Wake Walker leaving the FWA". Chris doesn't entirely seemed pleased at this random news break. Afterall, Wake Walker and Thomas Princeton did pull off a cowardly sneak attack on Kennedy and Carter weeks back, and now he's screwing off to an early retirement, putting a anti-climactic end to an unaccomplished career. Chris Kennedy takes a sip from his scotch glass before reaching for his cigarette. He pauses for a bit, thinking about the recent turn of events and deciding that it's time to be taken seriously. He picks up his phone and dials G-RICH. The phone rings for several seconds and almost goes to voicemail before the FWA General Manager finally decides to pick it up, almost reluctantly.

    G-Rich: Yeah, hello?

    Chris Kennedy: Greg, it's Kennedy. I need to talk to you. Now.

    G-Rich: I figured I might get a call from you.

    Chris Kennedy: What's going on, Greg? Brian and I made it VERY clear that we wanted a marquee match at Red, White and Bruised. So what did you do? You gave into Princeton and Walkers threats and booked them. Okay, I roll with the punches and deal with the cards I'm dealt. But now what?

    G-Rich: I don't know.

    Chris Kennedy: Aren't you, like, the first one TO know?

    G-Rich: Does it matter who you and Carter face? It'll just be a filler at this point to keep you guys relevant.

    Chris Kennedy: It matters. We wanted to stand out on the card. It's Red, White and Bruised. Last year, I was main eventing with Ryan Hall, and this year you people don't know what the hell to do with me. Carter and I are being WASTED, and you have the most "whatever" attitude about it.

    G-Rich: We'll talk.

    G-Rich hangs up on Kennedy after delivering the brush-off. An irate Chris Kennedy slams his phone down on the table and buries his face in his palms.

    FWA.com - July 18th, 2014.



    Several reports are indicating that Chris Kennedy's lucrative "Celebrity appearance" contract is coming to a close. The contract, originally set for 6 months and a limited number of appearances, still has 1 month left but Kennedy has quadrupled the amount of contractually committed appearances, as the contract did not specify that they had to be PPV appearances, and subsequently Fight Night's were included, as part of a botch that GM G-Rich had made when drawing up the contract. And so, Kennedy has already honored his FWA contract.

    What this means, is that Chris Kennedy will remain to be paid his very generous wages until his contract ends, and Chris Kennedy wouldn't have to make any appearances whatsover. He could literally go home to Tampa, FL, and never show his face again, but continue to earn an FWA paycheck until the end of September.

    So then, the big question is, will Chris Kennedy be re-signing with FWA? We weren't able to contact Chris Kennedy but we did catch up with his partner, one half of the Tag Team champions, who had this to say:

    "The rumors are that Chris Kennedy is done with FWA after Red, White and Bruised. I really don't know what Chris is going to do yet, but I can tell you what's going on in his head right now. He feels...no, WE feel...that FWA management is dropping the ball on the two best performers on the roster. We feel like the FWA product is the worst it's ever been, and all we wanted was a big match at one of the two biggest Pay-Per-Views. I am well accustomed to the phrase "You can't always get what you want" but in all honesty, this was never about what WE wanted. It's about what the FWA fans deserve. Chris always said, that if our tag team title reign was ever treated with the same blase attitude that Aut Pax Aut Bellum's reign was handled with, then we'd be done with these belts. It's already a no-brainer that Kennedy and I are going to win at Red, White an Bruised. It's just the simple fact that G-Rich is so incompetent in his job as "the guy who runs FWA' that he is sticking us against a random mix-match tag team in Thomas Princeton and Jethro Warren, that has my partner re-thinking his career in the FWA. And can you blame him? I don't. Now I don't want Chris to leave, and then these titles and everything I've worked so hard for, all of it equating to nothing, of course I don't want that. So then, we just have to beat this curtain jerkers we've been stacked against, and then we wait and see how Chris plays his cards"

    For the record, we at FWA.com wish Chris Kennedy nothing but happiness, but hope he doesn't leave. Last time he did, the FWA suffered a loss in momentum that it still hasn't bounced back from.

    UPDATE: After G-Rich heard Kennedy's comments, every instance the name "Kennedy/Carter Administration" on FWA.com has been replaced with "Dead Presidents". Many feel that this is G-Rich's playful little attempt at foreshadowing the events of Red, White and Bruised. It's already been noted that Chris Kennedy is furious with the branding. Will the team of Kennedy and Carter continue to be the highlight of Friday Night, or will Red, White and Bruised be the last we see of them? Only time will tell.
    Last edited by Jiggy; 07-21-2014 at 03:16 AM.

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    Saddle Sally Promo



    In a mock oval office....

    Saddle Sally dressed in an over the top sexy Captain America costume sits at the desk inside a clearly fake oval office. The camera slowly zooms in and the cameraman secretly wishes the outfit had a cleavage window of some kind but at least the outfit is so skin tight it leaves little to the imagination in other ways. She has a stern look on her face, like she truly is the president of the United States in some warped reality. As she begins to talk she speaks with authority and firmness.

    Sally: My fellow Americans and Americannas. I come to ya'll tonight in yer' living rooms, in yer' kitchens, yer' bars, bedrooms, smartphones, laptops and hair salons 'cause I want you all to know somethin' important. We are at a crossroads here. The FWA, yer' favorite wrestlin' promotion, the AMERICAN made federation is at a fork in the road. Jus' imagine fer' a second yer' drivin' with yer' family, listenin' to the radio, sharin' stories, makin' jokes and then someone loses the map, someone makes a wrong turn and suddenly the conversation in that mini van ain't so peachy anymore. Mom yells, dad grumbles, Billy pukes and Amy admits that she tried pot. The moment is ruined and nuthin' will ever be the same. But there is still hope, still hope to save the day, save tomorrow, have a brighter future....ya'll jus' need to go the right way. Slowly but surely everyone forgives each other, the conversation gets happy again and soon everyone is laughin' 'cause they know everythin' will be okay, everythin' is right. But then ya'll get to that ever so important fork in the road and now ya'll have a choice to make. Which way do ya' go? Do ya' go the right or to the left?

    It's a tricky decision, and I ain't talkin' politics right now. Nah, this is a different kind of left and right. A choice. Which one will lead to happiness and which one will lead to another mindless few hours of frustration and years of relationships crumblin' in a matter of minutes? It's all on ya' to make the right choice. The problem with the FWA is that we are at a crossroad, a split with the FWA Womens division. Most people think that there are only two choices....left or right. But what if I told ya'll that there was a third choice? There is Beatrixx Black in one direction and Dinorah Redgrave in the other. Left or Right? Why? Why change things? Why ruin a good thing?


    Sally folds her hands together and rubs the tips of her fingers together like she's massaging herself.

    Sally: I always here people complainin', taxes, education, war, the list goes on and on when it comes to gripin'. That's somethin' we as a country are very good at. We excel at it. Only the French are worse. And yet, do ya' know no matter what we change, what we do, how far we go, everyone and I do mean everyone always asks "WHY CANT THINGS JUST STAY THE SAME!" They wonder why they can't go back to the good ol' days. And yet they get these decisions forced upon them, choices, big moments that alter the rest of their lives and they have to make them at the drop of a hat. So my question is, why change if ya' don't have to? Why go left or right when yer' happy with things jus' the way they are?

    I am the FWA Women's champion! I have single handily brought this division out of obscurity and blazed a path that will be remembered for decades to come. And now some of ya'll are thinkin' about goin' in a different direction? What ya'll want to go to Dinorah Redgrave? Ya'll want to go back? How far back? It's like when a white man says he wishes things could go back to the 50s. Only white people want it to be the 50s again. Ask any black person, ask a gay person or an Asian-American...I bet ya' they won't say the 50s when ya' ask them which decade they'd like to go back to. That's Dinorah Redgrave, she's goin' too far back, she's goin' back to a time when the womens championship was a novelty a steppin' stone to becomin' a world champion. When it was considered a low level title. Welp, I don't see the title that way, I see it as the greatest honor any person with a cervix can have is holdin' the gold custom strapped fer' the hips of a woman! Dinorah doesn't want the title, she wants whatever comes after this, well guess what hun' this is as good as it gets and it's mine! I already beat ya' once when the title was on the line, and that's when I asked fer' it. That means I went out of my way to kick yer' ass with the title on the line, ya' couldn't deliver then and ya' won't deliver at Red, White and Bruised! Yer' a relic, a one trick pony who should have stayed at home. Well yer' on my ranch now and I'm gonna break and brand ya' like the human livestock ya' are!

    And then there are the ones who wanna go down the other path. They wanna have Beatrixx with the belt. They're so desperate to have somethin' new and excitin' that they will give the keys to the car to jus' 'bout anyone with a license. Beatrixx Black, a loud mouth, ugly, disgusting, classless punk with the fashion sense of a street bum who spent his government welfare at the thrift store! That's right I said HE 'cause in my mind Beatrixx might as well have a schlong down there, that's what she reminds me of. A dirty college kid eatin' ramen noodles every night, dirtbag! I bet Beatrixx has spiders in her hair and hasn't even seen a bottle of shampoo since Bush was in office. And I don't mean the one who beat Al Gore Bush...I mean his father. This is the woman...and I use that term lightly, the woman that people wanna see with the belt. It's mind bogglin' to me how people could see her as appealin' or talented. She bites people like a psychotic soccer player. She's not an athlete she's not a champion she's a gimmick, a flash in the pan, a fad!

    But I'm not a washed up hasbeen and I sure as heck ain't a fad. I'm 100% the real deal, I am the champion that is gonna walk into Red, White and Bruised and walk out the bonafied winner, the bonafied queen. A queen who rules over a kingdom that she built, a queen....a queen at the seat of it all. Ya' see this may be America, but this ain't no democracy.


    Sally bangs on the top of the desk and the faux presidential seat flips over and banners are dropped with her face on it. The seal is just a sexy silhouette of her body holding a bible and an automatic rifle. She stands to her feet, hands on the desk as she grins.

    Sally: See unlike Dinorah and Beatrixx I am the one fit to lead, people trust me, they know that even if I have to do somethin' naughty, I'm doin' it for the greater good and that all who dare oppose me will face brutal and swift punishment! I am not a simple tyrant or president, I am not a dictator I am a monarch. I am bred fer' this, made fer' this and I claim it not jus' 'cause I am the most talented and suited to lead, but 'cause I am MEANT to lead. I am destined to lead!

    Beatrixx may talk a big game, but she has not been in a match with me yet, not a real one, not one where she is gonna to be in the trenches tryin' her bets to get in some good hits as I endure on smash her face in. No, she can ask Dinorah, nobody leaves a match with me without some scars and future back problems to prove it! I am the guidin' light of truth in a world of denial and I am the leader in a time of turmoil and uncertainty. The people of the FWA and this country want me to lead 'cause they want things to stay the same. It's not 'cause change is scary or that they are so repulsed by Dinorah and Beatrixx, even though they should be....no no....they are in love with me 'cause I am the answer. I keep things safe, I am reliable, I am steadfast I am the right one to have her finger on the trigger. They trust me and want me to ensure that things stay the same and not change for the worse.

    I am their hero, the American that will lead them into the great unknown but keep them safe, keep things consistent. Protect them. Dinorah and Beatrixx are false prophets, unscrupulous tarts with an appetite fer' teh degradin' and a hankerin' fer' power they can't understand or control. These women don't have what it takes to beat me. I know the champion is supposedly at a disadvantage, but I say bring it on! So when I win and raise the flag and by belt they will wave their white flags and beg fer' my mercy! They will bless the ground I walk on, fer' they are not worthy to stand tall with me! When I beat them there will be no denyin' that I am the greatest to every strap the gold 'round her waist and that I bested them. That I am the true baddest bitch in the doghouse and that I am the queen, they're merely my subjects.


    Sally steps in front of her desk and continues to stare into the camera.

    Sally: Right or Left America. It doesn't have to be a choice, in fact it never truly was. It was all jus' some illusion of democracy. See I'm in charge and whatever I say goes and I say that Beatrixx Black and Dinorah Redgrave are roadkill, and I am 'bout to run them over with my big chevy. I say they are jus' challengers to a champion. I say that they're gonna lose to the true queen, the true champion, a true hero. Triple threat? Nah, reckon' the only threat in that ring is me! Bring yer' best, and I'll bring enough. The only fork that matters here is the one I'm gonna drive up the ass of whoever I pin! Thank ya' kindly, God bless ya'll and have a good night!

    The camera zooms out and fades to black leaving Sally inside the oval office.

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    Backstage...

    Jethro Warren and Thomas Princeton hide behind a curtain backstage, they are talking....

    Tom: What in the hell are you talking about? I should go out first, I'm the face of Executive Excellence. I created the damn thing!

    Jethro: I'm not sure about that, I heard Jack Severino actually came up with the name.

    Tom: What? That's bull crap! That was all me!

    Jethro: Tommy boy even if that's true there is no way your pasty white ass should be face of a stable like this.

    Tom: Pasty?!!

    Jethro: Oh *****s love me man! They all want to pillage my booty! They're butt pirates and my orifices are the seven seas!

    Tom: That doesn't even make sense at most you can have like three orifices and that's if you're a woman!

    Jethro: Either way we're a team now. I'm going to go out there and introduce myself as a part of EE. The fans want to see fresh blood, not some old guy who looks like a cross between a wall street asshole and your mom's new accountant boyfriend!

    Tom: First of all, both those jobs make a ton of money and--

    Jethro mocks Tom's lips by flapping his hand together.

    Jethro: Blah! Blah! Blah! Nobody cares Princeton!

    Tom: Why did you agree to join me, if you don't even like me?

    Jethro: What I have to like you now? What are you a fairy? I just came to kick Kennedy and Carter's ass! Aren't you here for that too?

    Tom: Well...yes...but...

    Jethro: But what? We're gonna go out there, beat their asses down, I'm going to take the lead, we're the new tag champs! It'll be real easy and dry, like my mother.

    Tom: That's disgusting.

    Jethro: Are you in or are you out?

    Tom: Of course I'm in! The two of us together could truly and decisively beat Kennedy and Carter.

    Jethro: Decisive? Let's just win, I don't care how. Why do you think I have a roll of quarters on hand?

    Tom: Roll of quarters don't work.

    Jethro: You got a better idea?

    Tom: As a matter of fact, before the ring was fully set up I paid a gaffer to hide some brass knuckles under the ring apron.

    Jethro: Well I can't say I'm not impressed.

    Tom: Want to go out and win some tag team titles?

    Jethro: Wouldn't have it any other way....

    Jethro and Tom exit towards the entrance ramp, the crowd can be heard cheering waiting for the match to start but booing as soon as they hear Jethro's music.

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      Country                    New Zealand

    Re: Red, White and Bruised promo thread

    It is impossible to see more than a few feet in front of ourselves, such is the mist that basically envelops this room. It billows everywhere and anywhere it can, concealing everything under its thick cloudy haze. There is no way of knowing where we are, what we are looking at or what any of this means. But through the fog sparkling and shimmering is the colour of caramel, its mesmerising in the way it gracefully passes through the fog, and haunting in the way it remains hidden from us, just within sight but nothing more. For several more moments the mist gently dances around the figure of caramel within…before finally that sumptuous colour of candy comes closer and closer. The mist parts to reveal the Goddess within. A beautiful…yet sad Goddess dressed in nothing more than a white towel tightly wrapped around her body. It is of course the Caramel Goddess herself, the first lady of professional wrestling; Gabrielle Montgomery. She stands there silently for several long seconds just gazing towards us with those bright yet sorrow racked brown eyes of hers. This would normally be those delightfully slow few seconds, those seconds that seem to defy time itself to allow us all to gaze upon every inch of her body and marvel at the way her figure defies gravity and the ridiculous tensile strength of lace. But even though the gorgeous Goddess is dripping wet, with water still trickling down her across body, and her damp brunette hair clinging to her shoulders with so much of that sweetly inviting caramel coated skin on display…it all pales in comparison to that look in her eyes. This is not the wrath filled Goddess, not the joyful Goddess, not the Gabrielle we have seen happily playing with her daughter or showing off her lavish house. No, this is a woman in a cheap Hotel’s bathroom alone, away from everything she knows and loves…away from just everything as it were. She runs a hand through her still wet hair, casts her gaze downwards and then simply sits down on the edge of the bathtub where she rests her head in her hands.

    Gabrielle:


    She goes to speak but the words don’t come to her, instead she just sits there for a few moments more, the mist from her shower that’s hanging around for an abnormally long time swallows her back up and hides the Goddess away from our sight once more.

    Gabrielle:
    There was a time when my way of life seemed to be so perfect, almost care free. Sure there were those who mocked it as they still do now…but I always brushed it off. The opinions of a few did not outweigh the joy and happiness in my life. But as the days have passed, as I have become a mother to an amazing little girl, as I have gone through the sorrow of two divorces and experienced what it is to disappoint your father…everything has changed

    Silence…it painfully hangs in the air as a million thoughts and a thousand concerns swirl in Gabrielle’s head.

    Gabrielle:
    When I was younger I was proud of it all, I was blissfully happy, some looked down on me for it…but I was enjoying myself and that is all that mattered to me. As long as I was having fun jumping from bed to bed…that’s all that mattered. Now though at the tender age of twenty seven I am a mother to a wonderful girl whose father wants nothing to do with me. The ex-wife of a woman who wants to leave all our memories in the past. The daughter of a man who has seen enough heartbreak in his little girl’s life…and heard more rumours and gossip than any father could bare.

    I have experienced so much joy and so much sorrow in my life and all along I was content to have this dual legacy. I was proud to be a sexual icon, a sexual revolutionary…and one of the greatest female wrestlers of all time. I was over joyous in being an inspiration to aspiring female wrestlers and women who simply wanted to be able to express their sexuality. That has all changed now though…but before you brag Stuart…you cannot claim the credit here. I was mortified to learn that my father could think that betraying me and using you was the right thing to do, but it was something else that has led me here. Or rather someone else.

    Ashley…

    Ash…I need you to know I do love you, with all my heart…but that is the very reason why I couldn’t marry you, not yet at least. I have already walked down the aisle twice in my life, and twice I have had to sign divorce papers. I came into the FWA with Jack Severino…we didn’t last but Matthew Robinson and Jenny were there to pick me back up. Then Chris came along and my first marriage dissolved and I was instantly in a new long term relationship and eventually marriage once more. But that didn’t last and no sooner was it over than I was in your arms Ashley, we comforted each other as both of our marriages fell apart.

    I haven’t been single for any decent period of time in years and years…but I have been divorced twice and gone to bed with more people than I feel comfortable admitting too.

    I can’t rush in again, I can’t take the risk that marrying you now will lead to just another divorce. I don’t even feel proud that I made you turn on Stu. I despise that Snake…but I accepted he was your friend, I made peace with that and never wanted to come between the two of you. When you proposed to me Ashley while standing over the fallen body of a man who has tried to hurt everyone I know I wanted to say yes, I wanted to think that simply saying yes means we will grow old together raising Carmella, Colin and Alexis, but I know it’s not that easy. I have to bury some of my past and become the woman I truly want to be.

    For a brief moment the steam hanging around the Caramel Goddess dissipates and reveals an ever so slight smile upon her lips. But as quickly as it’s there displayed before us all the warm fog then encircles Gabrielle once more.

    Gabrielle:
    A big part of that is me finally bringing an end to all of this between Stu and I. For close to a year now this has gone on, this war, this battle. This hatred between us. It has outlasted so many different things. It outlived Ryan Halls FWA Championship reign, it saw the beginning and the end of Jimmy Kings attempts to ridicule and reduce the FWA. It has seen the dawn of a new era in the FWA and so many new Champions have been crowned in every division. When it all began I was Gabrielle Kennedy; wife to Chris Kennedy, daughter in law to the legendary Kerry Kennedy, and sister in law to Daniella Kennedy.

    It was by her side that all of this started, the Sisters of Destruction banded together and dethroned Vodka and Venom as Tag Team Champions. Our reign was short but I made sure to torture Stu and mock Ashley at every turn.

    Not my proudest moments…

    A loud sigh jumps out of the mist towards us.

    Gabrielle:
    I used Jennifer, and I used sweet little Micah to hurt Stu. That is something I will always regret, and never forgive myself for. But I have apologised to Stu a thousand times now, to the point where those words now mean nothing to me, for every single attempt fell on deaf ears and Stu you foolish Snake you rejected my every attempt for forgiveness. while Ashley forgave my misdeeds and saw fit to comfort me when I was down. Now Stu I am in this position where I despise you, I want to hurt you so badly…but yet I am sick of you more than anything else. There has been so much pain in my life because of you that now I just want this to end so I can move on in my career and most importantly in my life.

    You have dared to step too close to my daughter; Carmella. You have turned my father against me, you have assaulted one of my dearest friends in Veronique. You have spoiled moments between Ashley and I, you put your own petty feelings above the FWA itself when we had the opportunity to bring an early end to Jimmy Kings regime. I would be the FWA World Champion right now if it were not for you Stu. I should be FWA Champion…but losing that match pales in comparison to all those little moments where you have injected yourself into my personal life to try and hurt me.

    She can be heard taking a deep, deep breath and then sighing loudly once more from within her gentle shroud. It clouds our vision almost as much as her mind is clouded.

    Gabrielle:
    There has been a constant strain on mine and Ashley’s relationship, I know that you don’t care Snake…but I’ve seen the pain on his face when he’s forced to choose a side or step between us. I’ve seen the disappointment in his eyes when he has watched us squabble and try to tear each other limb from limb despite his best efforts to keep the peace. I saw the sorrow that washed over him as he sent a steel chair crashing down onto your head last week. I could see that it was not an easy choice for Ashley, not an easy thing to do. He turned on you for me…I should brag, I should rub it in your face.

    After all Stu you now have absolutely nobody left in your life…

    Nobody!

    Ashley was the last person you had left, the last connection you had to any relevance. But I can’t brag now; not just because of how lost I feel, how confused, and how desperately I now search every fibre of my being for the woman I want to be. I want to be Gabrielle O’Ryan…the Warrior Goddess. The Icon, the Legend, the Inspiration to every aspiring wrestler. But more than that I want to be Gabrielle the adoring, devoted wife, Gabrielle the loving, caring mother who is always there, and Gabrielle the daughter who makes her parents proud.

    And this is why I can’t revel in the fact you are all alone now Stu…

    Once again the warm mist floats away from Gabrielle’s still moist caramel complexion and that little white towel of hers as she simply sits there with one leg crossed over the other and a faraway look in her brown eyes. She seems completely alone, as she sits there in silence there isn’t a single other sound; no Carmella happily playing in the background, and no evidence of any one else occupying this hotel room with her.

    Gabrielle:
    I am in a self-imposed exile until I can find myself. Carmella she is at Chris’s for the time being, Ashley…the man I love knows that I want some time to myself. I haven’t spoken to anyone I know for days now…only my lawyer as I handed away the fortune I received in my divorce to Chris. Gone is the lavish lifestyle, the beach estate, the cars, the parties, the two most important people in my life. All I have for now…is you Stuart, and I’m all you have. This war that comes to a head, this Last Person Standing match is the only thing I have to look forward too. I can bury you in my past, and leave all the sorrow and heartache you have brought into my life in the past as well. Then I can move on, then I can focus upon being exactly who I dreamed I would be when I was a little girl.

    As a few tears roll down her delicately soft cheeks the mist around her eagerly swallows her back up.

    Gabrielle:
    You see that is what’s so important to me right now, as I sit here completely alone for the first time in my life all I can think about is the woman I imagined as a little girl compared to the woman I see in that mirror. Through everything that is the one thought I keep coming back too. I would imagine, I would dream, I would even act out my future as a wrestler. This here, this life, these shortcomings, doubts and turmoil in my personal life were never a part of the dream. I blame myself for this…but Stu you have poured fuel on the fire. You have interfered in my life for long enough, I have dealt with you for long enough. It is time that I leave you in the past…just as the FWA has.

    The Caramel Goddess is vaguely visible as she uncrosses her legs and leans forwards as a slight smile slowly creeps upon her lips and she runs her hands through her dark brunette hair.

    Gabrielle:
    Because the thing is, as much self-pity as I currently wallow in, as much despair as currently grips my very being there are still several things I can be joyous about. My daughter, my friends, my fans…and Ashley, I may have distanced myself from these things in order to embrace who I am, to discover who I can truly be and get my life in order but one inescapable fact rings true. Whether I embrace my sinful past or not I am still the woman who held the FWA Title for longer than anyone besides Matt Boudreau. I am still the woman who almost won the Trial By Fire match two years in a row and was within a hair of wining the Carnal Contendership match earlier this year.

    I defeated PAJ at Back In Business, the same PAJ who’s now fighting for the World Title. I took Ryan Hall to a draw last week, and most importantly I defeated you Stu St.Clair already at Aftershock. I still have a future ahead of me in this company, I can still be the Champion again, I can still relive that childhood dream come true and this time it can be everything I imagined it to be. This time I can be the Champion revered solely for what she does in the ring. You Stuart despite everything that has happened between us have become a mere speed bump in my road to redemption. I want to beat you not because of everything that has transpired between us, all the anger, all the hate…no this is all about simply getting past you.


    This is a battle not just between two people who have waged war for nearly a year now, this is more than a battle between two people who loved the same woman. This is so much more than a fight between the man who doesn’t know his son and the woman who helped raised him. This is a battle between the past and the present. Your best years are clearly behind you Stu, mine still lay ahead of me. I can still be the FWA World Champion again, while it’s clear you can’t. So losing to you Stu is unacceptable to me, it is unacceptable for the good of my career and I won’t tolerate it as the grand finale to our feud.

    For a few moments all sadness escapes her eyes, which are a bright brown that ethereally pierces the steam still lingering all around her. She just gazes towards us, beyond us and at The Snake itself with a look of determination.

    Gabrielle:
    I did wrong by you ad have long since accepted that, I have done all I can to make amends as you respond by going after my family. My father who was always my biggest fan and the man I could rely on to always be there for me, supporting my every decision and you twisted his love for his daughter into something ugly. He somehow saw you as the lessor of two evils…and perhaps in a twisted way that I can now see pain now was preferable to any pain from Ashley and I not working out in the long run. That was your secret weapon all along, you bragged about not being alone in this, about having another reason to keep fighting…but my father revealed all of this to the world.

    And the end result is…I have more reason than ever before to fight. I am not just clearing my mind and focusing my life for me, it is for my family as well. I am going to defeat you Stu, I am going to beat you, and I will incapacitate you and leave you motionless in the ring as I take bigger and bigger strides towards claiming the life I have always wanted…

    As her last words saunter from her lips with more conviction to them than we’ve heard all night the steam all around her finally disappears leaving a sorrowful yet focused Gabrielle to sit there before us, simply awaiting her battle call.


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