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Thread: Trial By Fire promo thread

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    Trial By Fire promo thread

    Post promos here for the Trial By Fire pay-per-view. Deadline for promos is Sunday, January 11 at midnight Pacific time, which is Monday, January 12 at 3 a.m. eastern time and 8 a.m. That allows everyone seven (7) full days, plus around 11 extra hours. No extensions.


    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    The scene opens to a small, dimly lit room. The four walls are unadorned save a lantern hanging from each, and a low fire blazes at one end. Across the room is a table, at which a large man is seated. His bald scalp is split by a black mask that shrouds half of his face. Through it, his breathing is faint but audible. The muscular features of his neck, chest, and arms are exposed by the light of the fire and the shadows it casts. No one sits across from him and none sit by his side. At his back is darkness; in front, the light and its heat. He stares into the fire with an icy gaze so cold as to give the illusion that it’s keeping the flames at bay. His eyes flick toward the camera

    Dune: Ah…we meet again. For those of you who didn’t see me on Smash, my name is Dune. Brace yourselves, for I bear bad news: with my introduction and upcoming debut, each of you has become a meager grain of sand trapped in my hourglass. That’s a hard pill to swallow for many of you, no doubt. In fact, I’d be willing to say there isn’t a man or woman in the FWA who believes me when I say that your descent is not only inevitable but necessary. As the force of nature that is gravity draws each speck of sand down and down, where they gather and lie still en masse, so too will each of you fall, be it by pin, submission, TKO…or, if need be, by an even greater price.

    Dune pushes his chair back and rises from the table. With him stands a black dog, large and fearsome, unseen as it had been lying on the sand-covered ground. Dune walks around and pats the beast’s large head

    Dune: Do not fear him. He follows my every command. By that logic it should follow that it’s me who should be feared, and that’s exactly right…but not because of that fact that with only the slightest of nods I can release this beast’s teeth and unrivaled jaw strength upon you – no. Fear me because I am a separate beast, similarly capable of inflicting pain and bodily damage – damage surely worse than you have ever known. What will you do when the Hourglass falls to the floor, your neck snapping against the mat? How will you flail free of the Quicksand when its clutch is strong and your back is breaking? And the Sandstorm – ever looming in the distance like a massive curtain of death – can you prevail through its winds, its piercing sands…the final plunge before your back is shattered alongside the dreams you hold most dear?

    Dune makes his way through a doorway that leads to a dark, narrow corridor. Its walls are lined with wooden beams worn by time and the constant weight of the earth pressing against them. With the dog following obediently behind him, Dune turns a corner, revealing a long, steep slope. At the apex a sealed door shivers with the mighty winds that gust outside. He stares up the slope as he speaks.

    Dune: It’s storming out there. What are usually whispers over the sand have tonight become screams. The wind is unforgiving, and the desert has a bountiful store of weapons at her disposal. We are alike in that regard. Would you like to bear witness to her power? I can withstand her harsh gales, the razor-like sharpness of the sand she throws this way and that…but only for so long, lest I put my own mortality on display. Come with me.

    Dune strides up the long slope, breathing heavily as he ascends. A close-up shot shows his eyebrows downturned and rigid, his icy blue eyes seething with anger and an unflinching will. He reaches the top and without hesitation unlatches the door, throwing it open together with the wind. Outside is havoc on a grand scale. A full moon lights the desert beyond the storm, but inside its heart there is only darkness and the rage of the winds. A shot from the base of the slope leading to the outside shows Dune planted on the ground, his arms spread to either side as he clutches hold of the open doorway.

    Without warning his feet lift from the ground. Now only the strength of his grip keeps him from ascending to the heavens only to plummet back down to the dunes. In a remarkable feat of strength, Dune overcomes the gale, plants his feet firmly back on the ground, and with one arm pulls the door shut, latching it again. For a minute there is silence aside from his breath. Then he descends, revealing a body covered by a film of dirt, sand, and blood. He passes once more through the small, dark corridor. The black dog follows closely behind. Dune passes the room we found him in and steps into another. This one opens to a training room, made apparent by the benches, heavy bags, and boulders both large and small.


    Dune: This is where I spend most hours of the day and many at night. But I do not find pleasure here. No – you see, these bags are inanimate, full of sand, not bones that break or blood that flows. Sure the lining breaks, the sand flows…but it’s just not the same.

    Dune grabs the largest boulder and lifts it over his head. With an anger-fueled shout he tosses it back down on the sand with a thud.

    Dune: I can throw these boulders around all I want, but they will never compare to the feeling of slamming a foe to the ground, hearing him gasp as his lungs struggle to pull in the air they so desperately need. At Trial by Fire I’ll have my chance. I’ll face two opponents, each worthy in his own regard.

    First there’s BlackHeron. Good size to him, at least, though I hold the advantage in that sense. I’ve heard him speak fondly of his non-FWA accomplishments. Now, as at Trial by Fire, I’ll remind him that they don’t count for shit – not anymore. Men who look behind instead of keeping their eyes in front do not often last long. BlackHeron your past is a moot point, a non-issue. It is your future that should concern you. You speak of the blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed over the course of your career. You’ll shed more when you face me – that I promise. I am a man that will not beg for mercy as some of the cowards you faced before may have done. Mercy has never been kind to me, and in truth I’ve never once seen her true face…nor have I cared to. You speak of proving everyone wrong your whole career. A lie, for it seems that in your swollen head you have convinced yourself that you can’t be defeated. At Trial by Fire I’ll make amends for your misguided thinking.

    You may put up a fight, but the sands of time will decide your fate. To some you are a man, but to me you are still a boy. You would challenge the World Champion without first acknowledging the sandstorm looming, the beast that draws near? That’s not my circus and those aren’t my monkeys. No – I keep my focus on the next man…and I just pulled your card.

    And then there’s Alistair. Again, good size to him. He claims to be a relentless aggressor. Ah, my boy…now that’s my kind of game. Throw your blows, land them if you can…deliver all the punishment you can muster upon me. I can take a beating. That’s not what’s at question here. What troubles you at night before you sleep is this: can you take a beating? And even if you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you can, for how long and at what cost? You may be the black sheep of that soft-underbelly of a family you’ve got, but that only earns you so much credit in my eyes. Your upbringing no doubt softened you up, however much your training has offset it. Like you, Alistair, I was born better…naturally that raises the question of whom it is we were born better than? Everyone? Surely not. Perhaps the coddling and special treatment you’ve received throughout your life has led you down this false path of belief. At Trial by Fire we’ll find out once and for all which of us is better.

    All I ask of you, Alistair, is that after the match is over and your battle is lost, don't give in to your childish wishes of calling mother and father, having them travel via leer jet to come to your aid…to whisper false tidings in their baby boy’s ear and to tuck him in the way he always liked. Promise me, Alistair. It will be a great help in what has been a lifelong quest to become a man of your own.

    I digress. As fighters I respect both men, though I’m far more confident in my abilities than I am in theirs. Bring your best, gentlemen. You’ll need it. And in the ring, when you’re in your corner and I’m in mine…and my eyes penetrate your soon-to-be-broken body…know that your fear is natural. Do not fight the trembling. It will only exhaust you before our match is underway.

    The wise will not show up. The meek will not prevail. When the bell rings at Trial by Fire, the hourglass turns and nothing can stop the sands that spill to the bottom. BlackHeron, Alistair…you represent the first grains to fall. Be honored.

    Dune turns, sets up, and begins laying into one of the heavy bags hanging from the ceiling. The force of the blows sends it swaying as sand puffs out with each punch. The scene fades to black while Dune’s grunts and punches are still audible before they are finally silenced.
    Last edited by Dune; 01-07-2015 at 12:57 PM.

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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    When the poor won't stay poor



    The bus keeps rolling along. It's the same bus we saw before. White and grey, with a blue streak through the middle of its side exterior. The horse on the front, with windows next to each of the 16 rows of seats going from the front to the back cargo area. Yep, we've seen it before.

    Before. That's a vague word. One day. One year. One decade. One life. How "before?"

    On Fight Night, there was a charter bus specific to the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance rolling past Ohio and into Indiana for a brief while before heading into Minnesota. The bus involved Shannon O'Neal, the FWA Women's World Champion, along with many other well known FWA competitors.

    But this bus is different. This bus has the Greyhound logo stapled to the front, and on each side. This one has worn down tires sifting through the retched northern United States road conditions common for the month of January. It's an ordinary Greyhound bus, panning up to reveal either no driver or an invisible one. The aura of this picture almost feels like a dream...or a nightmare.

    Suddenly, with the trees and buildings zooming past in fast-forward speed coming to a stop, so does the bus. A stop, after a slowing-down process. The door opens...one step, two steps, three steps, and a sloshing sound. Door closes, the bus moves on. It made its stop, the passenger departed. The trip is finished.

    Our view pans to the left, showing a quaint downtown atmosphere of small, block-shaped buildings next to one another forming small alley ways. The swaying traffic lights are covered in the falling snowflakes amid a covered, nearly frozen street and vacant-of-life central area.

    A sign reading "Welcome to Lafayette, Indiana" is shown on the left side of the street, introducing people to the mid-America city just before the main downtown commercial properties. The green welcome sign has the population underneath it.

    "70,373" as of the 2010 U.S. Census Bureau's count. Had Shannon O'Neal stayed all those years ago, then it'd be 70,374.

    Small footprints are seen on the ground coming from the spot the bus stopped to the sign, and going behind the camera. With a sharp 180-degrees turn, we see the blond hair of the aforementioned Shannon O'Neal swaying amid the snowflakes. Her warm winter coat covers her skin nearly in full. No breasts showing. No arm and leg tattoos visible. No long, tan legs. She tightens the coat and sees her breath amid the white sheets falling from the sky and sticking to the ground of her hometown.


    "There are days we all remember in life. They usually involve choices we made, or choices someone else made. A decision, a big one, ya' know, and suddenly our entire lives are turned upside-down. Sometimes they are immediately positive in consequence. Sometimes they are negative in that cause-and-effect category. Regardless, for better or worse, they are the days we remember because they are the days makin' us for who we are...now. Either we embrace the good decisions or learn from the bad ones. That's life.

    I remember the day I got on a Greyhound bus and left down this road...goin' as far as I could. That is a day I remember. I'll remember it forever. That was the day I decided I wasn't OK with the way things were."

    Shannon O'Neal stands in this seemingly deserted town and sloshes her feet through the 2 feet of snow resting on the ground. The wind causes her hair to flitter and glide across her pale cheeks. She is long gone from the comfort of that greyhound bus, or the warmth of the FWA locker room, or the cheers and boos of the FWA's vocal fanbase. Whatever reality of fantasy this is, she is far gone from what she now knows and has known.


    "Let me describe to ya' a setting. This city. Lafayette, Indiana. I was 17 years old. It was 2002. My mother...she left when I was just 3. She been livin' in Los Angeles since 1987, and before that since the early 1980s. But she came here, to Lafayette, Indiana, to try and raise me with my dad and my aunt on my dad's side. Then they divorced. She left. I stayed.

    I never asked her since why she left, but I imagine it was the rules. I bet it was the hierarchy of small-town midwestern America. Ya' know...the sort of small town big enough to have businesses but small enough where everyone still knows if ya' went to church. At least, that's how it was in 2002. That population number. It was around half back then. Downtown ain't nothin' back then. The ones you see in photos...nah, it was like this."


    Shannon sticks out her right arm, as if to usher us to look at what she is viewing. It's desolate buildings covered in snow and no more than 50 feet high into the air. Those are the tall buildings. A few swaying traffic lights flicker from green, then to yellow, and then to red before the green turn signal emerges. No cars, though. None moving. None parked. No people. No foot prints. Just the ones of Shannon, who almost has lost her evidence of being here due to the wind blowing the snow slowly over these shoe-forming imprints.

    "There were rich people. There were poor people, like us. The rich stayed rich. The poor ain't had a way to get rich...at least not legally. So...the poor stayed poor. The wealthy people didn't want the poor to get rich, because in small town America, the only way someone is makin' bank is if someone else is losin' theirs. They called it 'stability.' They called it 'infrastructure.' Those were just the words they said to make us be OK with it."

    Graffiti covers the side of one building, the first in the long row od graffiti-tarnished buildings along this side of the Lafayette downtown strip. This ain't no sunset strip. There ain't no sunset shining today. As Shannon walks along the street, passing building after building, she begins to think back to her childhood. She thinks about living in a three-bedroom trailer for most of her life. They upgraded to a two-bedroom apartment farther from the downtown area when she was 11 years old. No rape. No physical abuse. No parents or relatives going to jail. None of that. Just scraping by. Paycheck to paycheck. She even had to work at a gas station. Shitty hours, too. 4 a.m. to 7 a.m., then going to school, and then 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. She got a break on the weekends. She slept on the weekends. Lucky her.

    "Then there were the really snobby people who thought they did somethin' to make themselves so well off. They said shit like, 'You must work hard. You cannot be lazy. You are poor because you are lazy. Get a job.' I'ma tryin' to make myself sound real smart and rich and like I gotta' stick up my ass, ya know? They those rich, private school-taught people. Thinkin' they earned that money. Their dad was a lawyer, so they became a lawyer and got to go into work an hour late and leave an hour early. And even if they screwed up, they still had more family money than they needed to live for the next five years without ever workin' again. A job...that was just a hobby for them. They didn't need it. And they acted that way. Yet...because we didn't have no money...we were the lazy ones."

    All the other kids at school...they went and did rich-person stuff like ballet practice and cheerleader competitions. Or they were in an athletic sport, like softball or volleyball or something. Shannon worked at a gas station. Sometimes she had to change tires when people passing through the podunk town had a mishap.


    Shannon O'Neal was a grinder. She came from a grinding family. One day...like her mother before her...Shannon was sick of grinding.

    "I made a decision that I knew would completely change my life forever. I told my aunt I was gone. I told my dad I was gone. I told them, I walked into the room and said, 'I'm goin' to Los Angeles. I'm goin' to find mom.' No fight. No struggle. No argument. I was surprised, 'cause ya' see about those arguments and fights on TV. But they were fine with it. They were HAPPY for me. Happiest I've seen either of them in my life. My dad told me where he thought she'd be, once I got there. He told me to take my last paycheck...and go.

    So I went...I wanted to make a new life for myself. I found my mom on the Sunset Strip, where the Greyhound bus dropped me off. That bus ride was long, man. It was loooo-ooo-ooong. But I was excited. It was different. I felt like I was livin'. And after 12 years of bartendin', and scrapin' by still, it was so much better. There ain't no rich stayin' rich and poor stayin' poor. Ya' either made your way workin' hard or ya' got eaten' up. Ain't no one get by sellin' dope there, either. Not in those days. Maybe in the 80s, but this was the new millennium. Rock'n'roll was dead. Nirvana already came and killed it."


    If you notice, Shannon O'Neal doesn't have the best vocabulary, definitely not spoken. Her best class was history. Her worst was English, behind speech. Well, speech was a throwaway class. She did fine, but the teacher winced each time she had to give a prolonged monologue. Her accent was deep. Other kids had the same issues. Maybe they graduated. Shannon doesn't know. She didn't. She left before her senior year and kept the accent. She doesn't even notice anymore.

    "I made another decision. I got on another bus, this one to Seattle. Not as long a trip, but just as anxious, nerve-wracking and exciting. I got off...met Robbins Thurgood...and became an FWA wrassler'. Suddenly, not initially realizing but eventually doin' so, I was back in the same hierarchy, class system I hated so much growin' up."

    Shannon O'Neal passes more buildings, until finally getting to the first intersection of downtown streets. She looks down the crossing road, only to see vacant houses with yards packed in with thick snow. The windows are boarded up. The doors are locked. Cars are hidden, or elsewhere. These houses are of the mid-America blue collar class. One story. Two bedrooms, maximum. No big yards, or long pristine driveways. No picket fences. No bricks surrounding a flower bed, or even a flower bed at all. And damn sure no mailbox along the street.

    "Gabrielle Montgomery was...no, Gabrielle Montgomery is the pinnacle of female wrestling. She's the richest person in the FWA. And the FWA, in the women arena, is like a small mid-America town with only one rich person and a bunch of poor people. Ya' hear about others, other rich people before Gabrielle. Moira Crawford. Jenny Ignito. Jillian De Silva. Yeah, I can do homework and listen. I didn't leave school 'cause I was flunkin'. Although, knowin' how scared Gabrielle is she'll probably make some cheap shot about the way I talk. But the FWA is like that place with just one rich person. Everyone else is lookin' up to her, tryin/ to be like her. Tryin' to be the NEXT...her.

    But like those towns, it's about infrastructure, or hierarchy, or stability, right? That's the reason it's like this. Or...wait...is it 'cause I'm lazy? It's 'cause I don't wanna' work for it, right? Yeah...that's left Gabrielle's mouth a time or two, if I remember. Just the same old sh*t I left 13 years ago, because I was tired of grindin' just to keep grindin'. I was tired of workin' my ass off today so I could work my ass off tomorrow, and look over at someone else and see them not doin' a damn thing and runnin' the place. And when I spoke up, so many months ago, I felt everyone else thought the same things I was thinkin'. Ayla El thought it. Now she's a tag team champion. Alana Allure thought it. Now she's fightin' for the X-championship. They just needed someone to say it. They needed someone to say it was OK to change the way things are done, to turn poor from rich and rich to poor."


    Shannon O'Neal keeps walking. The farther along she gets, the more every building and store and business sort of looks the same. But when she looks across the street, she suddenly sees tall 80-foot buildings skying high with elegant, flashing signs and Christmas-decorated windows. A nice awning protects the ground below it from snow. Just a small 5-by-10 foot area, but enough to stand out. You can see pavement.

    That's the "rich" side of town, divided from the poor side by one street. No more than 40 feet of snow-covered pavement that used to be a liquid substance. That's the difference. 40 feet. One decision. Maybe your own mistake or intelligence. Maybe someone else's choice affecting you.


    "I ain't sayin' you didn't work for ya' own, Gabrielle. I ain't sayin' ya' like these people livin' off the wealth of the ones before them. But think about it. Who did ya' follow? Ya' followed Jenny Ignito. Ya' followed Jillian De Silva."



    "You followed the great creative mind of a one Chris Stallings and made that part of a tradition of greatness and success in the female world. Would it be fair to say you followed the footsteps of those characters? Would it be fair to say he made females going beyond the Women's title division a 'thing' and you capitalized at the correct time? Would it be fair to say you were one of his golden children, one of the FWA members he felt closer to than most? And, with that, isn't there a little bit of a correlation between yourself...and those reaping the benefits of the ones paving the way before you, and specifically setting out a road for you to walk. Simply put, would it be fair to say it was a little easier proving yourself because of this? At some point, you received the 'blessing' to begin stretching yourself and going beyond the constraints of the Women's division and tag team division.

    I don't know how much effort it took.

    I don't imagine it took a whole lot."




    The snow continues falling to the ground, a light sound mixed with the small gust of wind. This sound, though, is interrupted by the faint, yet still dominant, audible of a motor slowly increasing in volume. The motor of a large vehicle bustles through the snow at a slow pace. The headlights shining before its path illuminate the town, vacant of any street lights despite the lack of natural light.


    "I made a conscious choice, Gabrielle. We all make decisions, right? Ya' made many. I've made many. I made one 13 years ago to run away from this town, the issues I had with it. I felt too small to do anythin' about it. So I left. I wanted a place where I didn't have to fight an uphill battle just to survive, and then be told either this was the way it had to be for 'stability' or it was this way 'cause me or my family ain't workin' hard enough. It sucked. Ya' think I ain't ready for a 'Trial By Fire?' SH*T, Gabriele, I lived a damn Trial By Fire EVERY DAMN DAY! I ain't talkin' about the type of match 'cause it ain't NO----THIN' to me. Nothin'. Fire? Sh*t. I lived it. My family lived it. Figuratively, which is a helluva' lot worse than literally.

    What were YA' doin' 13 years ago, Gabrielle? Bein' hand-picked for somethin', some wrasslin' tournament? Goin' to gymnastics practice? Listenin' to ya' parents talk about the poor people on the side of the road and why they are that way? How they ain't workin' hard or deserve anything good to happen, any breaks?

    My family and I worked hard, Gabrielle! ... And I'm workin' hard now. That's why I'm the damn Women's World Champion. I tagged the word 'World' on to show ya' and everyone else sayin' I ain't done nothin' that I have, that this proves it."


    Shannon holds up the Women's title in the air, with the bus headlights illuminating the gold around the belt and the attachable gold nameplate saying "FWA Women's World Championship." The snow falls around it, on it only to slide down and into the air again.


    "THIS...proves...that I grinded, and I am SOMETHIN'. But ya' the rich, Gabrielle. And what the rich says goes, right? And since ya' the rich, this ain't nothin'. Just pennies and nickels. What Gabrielle does...has done and will do...what she can and has accomplished...those are quarters and dollars. But no one is allowed to get that. They may say you can, they may say it's 'bout hard work and not bein' lazy, but the truth is...the rich are supposed to stay rich and the poor are supposed to stay poor.

    But I coulda' ran from this again. I didn't. I stayed. I spoke up. I didn't mean for what I said to cause such a commotion. But it did."


    The bus stops right in front of Shannon O'Neal. She's standing there, in the cold snow of Lafayette, Indiana, staring at the bus as the door opens and the warmth and relaxation invites her in.

    "We all make choices. I made one to speak up. I'll remember that day for the rest of my life, Gabrielle. It was the day I decided the way things are and always were...that aint OK anymore.

    I'm done bein' poor, and everyone with me today and following in the future will know...they ain't gotta' be poor, either."


    Shannon O'Neal doesn't move toward the bus. Instead, she sits down, right on the snow-covered sidewalk. On the poor side of the downtown road. She sits there ... and watches as the bus closes its door and drives on.

    Shannon O'Neal, with her blond hair resting down on top and over the shoulders of her unflattering winter coat, will stay and fight the fight she thinks needs to be fought. Because that's what martyrs do.



    "The Golden One" Devin Golden

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    4x FWA Tag Team Champion
    Final record: 94-58-10


    Shannon O'Neal
    2x FWA Women's Champion
    1x FWA World Champion


  4. #4
    God of Destruction
    Wolfs Rain's Avatar

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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    The Subjects


    Devin Golden: Longest-reigning X-Champion, only person ever to hold the World Heavyweight title and tag team titles at the same time, member of the famous tag team "Sunrise-Sunset," founder of The Crossfire Great Siege, 5-2 record in Tapei Death matches, second person in FWA history to compete in 100 matches. The thief of Lucian Ace's Golden Opportunity


    Primary threat detected


    - Stealing \ˈstēl\ : to take (something that does not belong to you) in a way that is wrong or illegal. To take (something that you are not supposed to have) without asking for permission. To wrongly take and use (another person's idea, words, etc.)


    Potential solution found.


    - Stoning (ˈstōn-iŋg): The act of hurling stones at someone, to kill by pelting with stones. To make hard or insensitive to feeling. To face, pave, or fortify with stones. To remove the stones or seeds of a fruit. To rub, scour, or polish with a stone. To sharpen with a whetstone. First Known Use: 13th century.


    Application of solution in progress.


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


    Wake Walker: Battled Matt Boudreau 1 vs 1 in a very close losing effort, Defeated Gabrielle in a 1 on 1 bout. Returned to FWA and has been undefeated thus far with a record of 7-0. Tried to murder G-Rich.


    Primary threat detected


    - Addiction noun \ə-ˈdik-shən, a-\ Strong and harmful need to regularly have something (such as a drug) or do something (such as GAMBLE) unusually great interest in something or a need to do or have something.


    Secondary threat detected.


    - Psycho (ˈsī-(ˌ)kō\): A person who is mentally ill and often dangerous or violent. A deranged or psychopathic person —not used technically. Short for psychopath.


    Potential solutions found.


    - Rehabilitation (ˈrē-ə-ˈbi-lə-ˌtāt, ˌrē-hə-): To bring (someone or something) back to a normal, healthy condition after an illness, injury, drug problem, etc. To teach (a criminal in prison) to live a normal and productive life. To bring (someone or something) back to a good condition, to restore to a former capacity. To restore to good repute. To restore to a former state. To restore or bring to a condition of health or useful and constructive activity. Medieval Latin rehabilitatus, past participle of rehabilitare, from Latin re- + Late Latin habilitare to habilitate.




    - Castration (ka-ˈstrā-shən\): The removal of testes or ovaries: gelding, spaying. Inhibition of the function or development of the gonads by inadequate nutrition in worker bees, by the action of certain parasites, or by the use of synthetic hormones in domestic animals, called also alimentary castration. A depriving of vigour, the deletion of a part of (a text) especially for purposes of expurgation.Middle English castracioun, from Latin castration-, castratio, from castratus + -ion-, -io -ion.


    Application of solutions in progress.


    Lucian Ace on the Case

    The Thief, The Murderer and The Ace




    Found a book today with a certain sort of aesthetic that reminded me of dime thriller books, the kind that they would use as a prop for someone to read implying an obsession to aspire to a tough, no shit taking, Scarface type, good ol' badass. Bold red letters running along diagonally and it contains a man in a trench coat and fedora obscured by shadow with a pistol in hand. It screams “unremembered” and that is the beauty of it, that is why I had to buy it. I have stuck to hard to what is good and what is legendary but you hardly ever reflect on the forgotten, the under-appreciated trash that fills the world at a much larger rate.

    I tried to do some research just to see how a book like that could have ended in my possession but when I looked it up on Wikipedia I couldn't find a page for it and when looking it up on Amazon, I managed to find a page for it but found zero reviews which almost made me laugh but then I realized what I had was the genuine article of forgotten literature. Someone tried and failed to make a lasting impression and so this book was damned to be forever shifting and swirling around from used book store to used book store as no one could lay claim to it being their favorite book or even to be familiar with the author enough to even tease the idea of having expectations for it.

    The interesting thought I had was what if this book had struck it big and became a huge hit? Let's face it, it doesn't exactly need to be good to be popular as made proven by the obvious targets of the Twilight series and the Da Vinci Code. What it takes is timing and and market catering in a neglected (but a potentially profitable) demographic. And I ask you, who hasn't thought of being a man against the law, out-smarting the police at every turn and being remembered like Al Capone even if you have to go out in a blaze of glory like Bonnie and Clyde. I am sure the majority of the population has had those thoughts at least a few times in their life. But the problem of this book is that it chose an area that was drained before it even reached the scene of the crime.

    The thing is it is so easy to write crime thrillers because there is already an inherent need for subtlety considering the line of work and if the story starts to drag at any point...BAM! Pull out a gun and kill a character. Works every time to be honest, no one ever bothers to question it. After all, that is the reason they picked up the damn thing in the first place. It's as simple as “Hey should I pick up Count Chocula or Frankenberry?...*BAM!* Oh shit! I've been shot in a rather anti-climatic scene! What-a-world what-a-world...” or “Jimmy...I have something to tell you...I'm your father...*BAM!* Oh shit! I have been killed in a sort-of/not-really heart wrenching reveal! I will be avenged!” or “I love you! *BAM!* You shot me! You dick!”, “I'm sorry babe, I just couldn't live with myself if...*BAM!* Holy shit, you shot me! Talk about hypocrite!”...

    Another thing about crime novels is that it tends to have the same scenes over and over: Secret meeting place for secret meeting, heist set up, Mexican stand-off, interrogation, raid and so on. It comes to a point that people don't need to pick up a new version of this when the version they already own is perfectly fine. Usually the interrogation scenes are the most typical. Either it is either a criminal interrogating in an alleyway threatening to break someone's legs or it is the Law & Order setup. There's a metal table in the middle of a cold, undecorated room with one mirror which is most likely a one way window where two other detectives are watching and whispering back to each other exposition that comes off completely unneeded since it is just repeating what we are already learning through the interrogation tactics. There's a man already sitting down at the table who nervously fidgets as he waits. After the moment of silence, the interviewing officer enters and takes a seat, getting to business as soon as he opens his mouth.

    Lucian Ace: Okay pal, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice.

    Usually the officer will throw some files or pictures (in this case lets say a man holding up a hotdog stand with a concealed banana...

    Lucian Ace: You don't have to say a word but let me tell you that I am going to get the information I want, one way or another. I don't care if I have to beat it out of you, before you leave this room you will be fessing up to your crimes...You know what's wrong with the world? The fact that one man can steal another man's hard work without recognizing the effort he put into it. Did you think about how much sleep he has lost over his pathetically small business? Or did you just think about the satisfaction of beating the system and putting one over on a poor, innocent victim? Even if you did regret it, which I doubt, you can't change what you've done. That man will forever be scarred with that loss and every day he has that hotdog stand from here on out will just serve as a reminder for that one time.

    I swung my feet up onto the table like those shows sometimes like to do and put my hands behind my neck to support my head as I pushed off and began leaning on the hind legs of the chair.

    Lucian Ace: Scum like you have no recognition for how hard others work to stay afloat to keep from turning into you. Other people don't want to steal from someone else and usurp their effort. I mean c'mon! If someone was running a shop for, oh I don't know, five months strong with great business and not an enemy in sight, why ruin the equilibrium? You disrupt so much by coming in and stealing their hard-earned work as if it was your own. That is why there is people like me though because there are assholes like you who feel they need to take what's not theirs!

    I took my legs off the table and leaned in real close to give an intimidating whisper that any detective would be proud of.

    Lucian Ace: You could basically consider police collectors of sorts...You don't pay for something or the state decides you don't deserve something, then it is my job to come in and take it back. I make sure that things stay okey-dokey and that all is right with the world because if I don't stomp you out like the bug you are then everyone will thing they can go and take something that isn't theirs. There is a standard in the world and we need to uphold it! People should have to work for it. How would it make you feel if there was an award, a championship, a title lets say...and that you worked so hard to earn that opportunity but then some no good asshole comes in and gets it just for being in the same room as you. Wouldn't that tear you apart? You put all your effort into this one thing! This one thing is the only meaning your life could hold onto and without even an inkling of an idea how it made you feel, your golden opportunity gets handed over to someone who you feel doesn't deserve it! You would want it back, right? You would search high and low for the guy who took it and demand it be returned...Well, that is exactly what I did here!

    I stood out of my seat as I leaned even closer to see the sweat on his brow and the shake in his body.

    Lucian Ace: I did it, that is why we are here right now and damn it, I am going to finish this. Once I am done with you you won't even be able to steal gum from a gas station! You will ache so bad that the next time you look at what you tried to take, you'll convulse and curl up into a ball never wanting to come out ever again. That is the way collectors have to do things or no one will take them seriously. There are no ifs, and, or buts about it. I have to squash you or what does that make me? I can't give out any freebees or I will just be a waste of money and that's no good to me. I am not going to let myself go down just to let you go on without paying the price. This is a dog-eat-dog world no matter who much you want to believe that your smarts will help you get away, you are just another bozo as far as I am concerned and I have no sympathy for bozos...

    Yeah Devin...I mean generic criminal number one! Ah-hem that was a world slip of the tongue. Freud would probably have something to say about that maybe...but who cares, he's dead...

    Lucian Ace: In fact...

    I pulled out a tape recorder out of my pocket which was currently recording. I pressed stop and set it down on the table.

    Lucian Ace: I know that the system might let you get by even if I put all my soul into it just for the fact that my investigation comes out a little short so I can't quite take the chance of you getting away. I have to make a stand.

    I waked around to behind my chair and pushed it in before turning around and walking to the window...

    Lucian Ace: I have to make my mark while no one is really paying attention. I have to catch everyone by surprise and make sure to keep what isn't yours out of your hands. I have to do what I think is right even if people don't want it to happen. I have to take something of yours, not just keep what is the state's.

    I spun around and whipped a pistol that was concealed under my shirt and aimed it at the suspect. BAM! BAM! BAM! Oh shit, you killed the pathetic no good criminal who can now never bother anyone again...(insert line from Dirty Harry here)

    Lucian Ace: The thief sometimes needs a better reminded than losing what he stole. Devin Golden, you may not have my Golden Opportunity anymore but that doesn't mean I am finished with you. I am going to take something of yours this time. I am going to take away your dignity. I am going to humiliate you in that ring! You have yet to truly show that you are any better than me. You see, you are a detective story. You do what you do and no one can really claim if you do it well or not because you don't make a withstanding impact to the other, much better, 'books' in the field you are going after. You just sink to the bottom because you truly can't beat out the Godfather's or the Wiseguy's and thus you really have no reason to keep fighting to do so.

    I cocked my head and peered up at the sky.

    Lucian Ace: I can see right through you Devin. Last week I saw something from you that I've never seen from you ever before... Fear. When you saw the ad for Back in Business X, you froze. When you saw me, you were covered in ice... Maybe you weren't afraid of me, maybe you were afraid of the future... But there is one problem with that Mr. Golden, I AM THE FUTURE! There is no place for you in the future, Devin, so it's only right that I end you here and now. You've held major titles, you've been at the top of this company and as far as you are concerned you still are... As far as I'm concerned, you're time is coming to a close and I'm the one that's going to crush the clock.

    I leaned back once again.

    Lucian Ace: Wake Walker you are just like him. You can brag about the good ol' days of taking Boudreau to the limit and you can change the history and call someone like Rebel Bad Ass a legend, but you ultimatelly don't stand out. You tried to murder a man, but as far as I'm concerned, death is too easy for most. I prefer to break my opponents, to make them suffer and give them injuries that could be problems for the rest of their lives... Make them live in pain and discomfort so they never forget who did it to them. Some wish I would have killed them, but instead of snapping their necks... I rolled them up for a three count, and now some can't even compete. They've taken cushy jobs behind the scenes and wake up every morning wishing they could get back into the ring. Wake up, Wake. It's easy to kill a man, it's much harder to break bones and snap cartilage, knowing that what you're doing could potentially end a career, and while that man screams in agony... You look him in the eye and smile. That takes strength Walker, anyone can kill... I'm not going to kill you tonight Wake, but I am going to break you. I don't want you dead Wake... I want you injured. I want you to remember the beating I gave you until your body gives up it's ghost.

    I have dropped my gaze to the floor before looking back up.


    Lucian Ace: That is what a collector does, he breaks fingers so they can't heal right. That is what a cancer does, even if you cure it, it leaves marks that will never go away. The lasting effects of the White Demon will never EVER go away! I am the dragon that all the warriors must face eventually if they wish to enter the gates of Paradise. It does not matter to the producers if I win or lose...I just need to look like I am better than anyone else to give a sense of real conflict. I give the audience something to hate because I can't relate to them. I am a winner and a man of action when everyone else is just buying a ticket. I am the extraordinary when everyone else are the uninteresting and uninspired. I am the awe that takes their breath away and shakes them up. I make them feel uncomfortable because they know that they could have been me but they let that train pass a long time ago and now they are so jealous that they will turn on the TV just in hopes to see me get my ass kicked.

    Ace walked into the darkness before slowly fading to black.
    Last edited by Wolfs Rain; 01-07-2015 at 07:52 AM.
    "You only need to hang mean bastards, but mean bastards you need to hang."


  5. #5
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread


    | Self Actualization |


    The cool mountain stream meanders gently through the valley's bottom. Covering the valleys stand dead, smoldered pine trees that willow from past forest fires. Youthful trees prosper with green as spring's nutritious sun feeds them. Thick shadows cast down from the brilliant sun. Faint dear trails squash down the grasses around the stream and switch back up the mountain. Dear antler lay underneath the shade of a pine tree. An dirt street fallows near to the stream up the valley. Around the stream stand vigorously vegetated shrubs. The stream wakes up as it tumbles down the mountain into little muddy pools that vacillate with life. The pools are so polished I can see my appearance. I wink and receive a wink back and giggle. Water streaming over the beaver dam ends the hush of the dead wind. Mallards live inside the fields loaded with grass and cattail. The soft sediment under my feet feels like a sand trap as I venture into the pool. After each one stage, a billow of mud overwhelms my feet. Underneath the surface of the pool, swim little wild trout. Mayflies nimbly rise up out of the profundities of the water and battle their path through the vegetation. Subtle rises from the lucky trout pick off the few flies that battle to leap forward the water's film. The living stream enamors me on account of its serene ways. I walk around the lake and back into the forest a little taking in the beautiful scene around me. I wrap my index finger around a strand of my beautiful blonde hair and twirl it around, a habit I've had ever since I was a little girl. The birds are singing gracefully. It smells like crispt, wet leaves, mildew, and ice all mixed together. It's enticing. The cool breeze blows by me and tickles my skin sending a chill down my spine and making me squirm with delight. The moist earth below my feet absorbs my feet all cold and fresh after a heavy rain. I'm bare-footed, simply because I love being bare footed. The cold sensation it sends throughout my body is livening. The sounds of the birds are beautiful as they continue their harmonious tunes. I stop and lean against the tree wiping the small trickles of sweat forming above my eyebrows. My daisy duke short-shorts stick to me like glue on this warm day here. My white tank top as well. I look up squinting as the sun beats down on my face.

    "For years I've always been looked at as the girl who would never make it. Would never make it to the big time, and headline big shows. The girl with big dreams but no intention of capitalizing on those so called dreams. I was an idealist. My dreams were always crushed ever since I was a little girl. I've been criticized like no little girls should be at that young of an age. I've always feared the worst. I've had nightmares that I would never be recognized and that I would forever remain at the bottom of the heap. Lost and forgotten. Until one day a miracle happened. The day that all of us as humans wait for. The day that many people won't ever even come to see. Self actualization. A desire for self fulfillment. From then on I've been a different person. I've been constantly taking advantage of my many exploits and capitalizing on them all to my fullest. Week in and week out, leaving everything in that ring, from blood, sweat, and tears. Ever since my return here in the FWA it's been nothing but smooth sailing and I'm sure that tonight will be no different. I don't want to jinx it. However I am confident that I will walk out of that ring victorious tonight against Saddle Sally. I'm going to stay as optimistic as possible. In years past I found myself begging for attention. I would've killed for someone to just look at me, so I could show them my true potential. I was a pawn my entire career. Now look at me..." She giggles in a sweet and innocent tone. "I'm one step away. All of the stairs that I told everyone I would climb, I've now climbed and here I am, almost at the top, all I have to do is grab that branch that mocks me. All the critics I'm about to silence here tonight.. Everytime my music hits and I walk out and hear those fans I say to myself: Zoey, this is your time. I'm tired of being the underdog. Sick of it. Now it's my time to prove and continue to prove that I'm not the underdog anymore. I'm here to compete. Strictly business. Saddle Sally, your title records and accolades don't phase me. I'm not the slightest bit intimidated by you and your bimbo-like appearance hun'. You've always been an embarrassment to the entire womens division. I would hate to be like you. I would be ashamed to be represented by you if you were womens champ, thank god I was gone when YOU had the title, that must've been rough whew. The whole cowgirl persona makes me gag. So does your whole fake outer appearance. But appearance has nothing to do with in ring capability does it? Nah.. but really that's all you seem to possess huh? You clearly lack all in ring potential. So you cover it up with your fake looks. Honey here's how I see your future. I see you losing week after week after I defeat you tonight. While I take the reigns and ride on away into the sunset with this number one contenders spot! There's not a damn thing stopping me tonight from smashing your face in with an Angel Dust and I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

    Zoey sniffles as her allergies start to kick in. She looks up at the bright blue sky and daydreams for a short period of time before snapping back into reality. She watches all the birds fly side by side in a synchronized fashion. She smiles and picks up a white flower from the ground below and adjusts it so that it sits nicely in her beautiful blonde hair. She grins sweetly and her blue eyes twinkle in the sunlight. Shimmering. The suns rays beat down on her well tanned skin tone making it shine as well. She continues walking as if she's trying to avoid stepping on something and continues to speak, although not looking at the camera but on the ground.

    "Two weeks ago in my first encounter with Taylor Toxic, Sally you came down and you thumped me over my head with a steel chair. It hurt. It really did. But it wasn't enough to take me out unfortunately. You then proceeded to leave that chair beside Taylor making it look as if she was the guilty one. And you know how bad these refs are, he then gave me the victory. I didn't want that victory. It doesn't give me that sense of accomplishment which I deserve. Is that how you like picking up victories Sally huh? Is that what you're going to try on me tonight as well? Now I don't know why you did what you did, and I really couldn't care less as to why you felt the need to give me that victory. You wanna' know why cowgirl? Well cause' I don't need to reach down into my pants and pull out a .. She pauses for a second pussy victory like that. I don't. Nuh uh. Not today, not ever. I'm sure you're used to that though aren't ya? It was unnecessary and uncalled for that for sure. So tonight, not only am I going to beat you and walk out of there as the number one contender, I'm going to do it fair and square. She smiles and looks into the camera. I'll end you Sally. I'm sick of seeing you weekly and this little thing we have between us, ends tonight. I'll leave you at the bottom where you belong, and I'll keep on climbing and making my way to the top."

    She tries to maintain composure by twirling her hair some more. She loses herself into another false reality before returning. She continues to walk until she reaches the lake again and stands there staring out into the distance as the sun begins to come down just a bit more.

    "As for you "champ".. I've been watching and waiting for my chance to pounce on that belt ever since I made my return here. I've been waiting to strike, and soon, soon I'll get that opportunity and take what's rightfully mine. I'm a changed woman and you seem to be as well. I respect you as an individual and the things you do for the fans and little girls.. but at the end of the day we're competitors competing for the same thing. We both have things at stake here tonight. I believe, however, that you and I Shannon, have certain things in common. We possess similar characteristics and qualities as individuals. We've both climbed to the top and are seen as underdogs. That's our label here tonight. Whether you like it or not "champ" these people all look at you as just another competitor. Nobody special. You never will be. Alright? You're going up against Gabrielle Montgomery. The most talked about woman since Oprah Winfrey. We're talkin' pure stardom here in front of you. It'll be too much to handle. But you know what? That benefits me. You'll lose tonight and you'll realize that boy.. I can't beat Gabrielle, what makes me think I'll be able to beat Zoey? I'm just as dangerous if not -- more dangerous than Gabrielle so you better watch your back honey. Doesn't matter if you're the champ now, nobody cares about that tonight. You're going right to the bottom after this match. Everything will begin to fall under you, and that title will as well, right into .. my hands. Unlike you Shannon, I don't need an alliance to help me achieve things. I do everything on my own. That's right, shocking huh? Your whole career has been a joke. You're just like the joker in a pack of playing cards. Worthless. Nothing. The fact that you need to constantly suck people off for your chance to headline main events is ridiculous. Eh.. that's great. All good for you. I'd much rather be recognized for my own personal accomplishments rather than feeding off others and having them carry me on their back while I paint my nails and take pictures with fans."

    At this point she begins to move her hands up her shirt and revealing her cut tanned belly and removing her top revealing her white bikini top underneath. She chuckles and shakes her head as the camera zooms in closer to her lady parts. She slowly removes her shorts in a sexual and seductive manner and throws it at the cameraman playfully. She's now fully in swimwear as she approaches the crystal clear lake. The scene is like that of a movie. Beautiful and mesmerizing. The sun beats down hard. She makes her way onto a rock near the edge of the lake and sits down. Her rich beautiful blonde hair flutters as a breeze blows by her, she begins to talk once more.

    "This week Sally, I'm enjoying a little vacation, doctors orders. As far as I know though, I've got this victory tonight sealed and locked away. It's back to hard work after this. Look at me honey. I'm enjoying myself. I'm going for a swim. I have not a care in the world about our match, because it's going to be a cakewalk. Some might say.. oh, don't underestimate your opponents. I didn't. I've never underestimated them.. unless I could. Like now. Sally I know how you are in the ring. Like Ryan Hall said, you're a piece of ass cream in the ring, and when would you ever bet against him? Other than tonight against Stu of course, he's never been wrong Am I right? She giggles playfully ruffling her blonde hair. I'm going to enjoy this time I have because I know your time is up, and it has been for quite some time. I'm here. Where are you I wonder.. hmmm .. She looks into the distance cupping her hands and gasps pointing and squinting as if it's hard to see. She points through the forest where a cow stands on the other side on some grassy farmland chewing on some grass. THERE YOU ARE! Wow you are one hungry girl! Come on over here! Ugh.. no fun. Anyways, you may as well walk down to that ring cowgirl, and get on yer' knees and tap on that mat and give me the victory. Then proceed by walking back and sobbing the night away. I mean you seem to love giving me victories don't ya? I mean that stunt you pulled a few weeks ago was a joke. Pathetic. I never NEEDED your help! Sally you're nothing to me.. You just weigh me down. Hypothetically and physically."

    She chuckles and stands up on top of the rock.

    "Tonight is MY night Sally. Your Trial by Fire will be short lived. I'll be the one to extinguish you once and for all!"

    She leaps off the rock into a perfect dive into the clear abyss splashing the camera with water as the camera transitions into a black screen.




  6. #6
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    *FWA Exclusive*

    FWA interviewer Katie Goldsmith and her trusty cameraman caught up with Ghost moments after his match with Toby Grace, and with him is that raven haired woman, Jane. The two are having a conversation when Katie approaches them.

    Katie Goldsmith: Excuse me, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything but I was wondering if I could get a quick word with Ghost on his most recent win?

    Before Ghost can speak, Jane steps up and speaks for him.

    Jane: That was awfully rude of you dear girl, but I'll let it pass this once. Now, as for Ghost's win against that embarrassment Toby Grace, did you expect anything less? Toby Grace is a nobody and Ghost shouldn't be wasting his time with nobodies like him. He should be out there wrestling for the X Championship, or even the World Heavyweight Championship, but no he's not is he?

    Katie Goldsmith: Um, no he's not

    Jane: Would you happen to know why?

    Katie Goldsmith: Um...

    Jane: Bloody hell you are a dense one.

    Katie Goldsmith: Excuse me?

    Before Jane can retort Ghost steps in between the two ladies and looks at Jane.

    Ghost: I do not approve of this attitude Jane. I realize that I am not wrestling higher up on the card, but am I complaining about it? No, and do you know why? Because I know I have to do what it takes to get to the top. Everyone starts from the bottom before making their way to the top of the food chain, and believe me that I haven't forgotten what I have set out to do. Now, come on Jane, we must go.

    Ghost walks off leaving Jane looking confused and somewhat flustered before following him as Katie Goldsmith watches on.

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

    Days later Ghost is sitting alone in a locker room just moments before his match at Trial By Fire. He looks up at the camera as he begins to speak.

    Scott Sylvester and Toby Grace. One man that I'm not very familiar with, and the other I've become acquainted with over the last month or so. First of all there's Scott Sylvester, a man that I do not much about. I've done my research on him and what I found is that he's a man that comes from a background of extreme cage fighting. Meaning he's not afraid to get his hands dirty, and another thing about him is that he likes to inflict pain onto others. This is nothing new to me Scott, I have dealt with men like that before. Humanity for example is one, and Syn is another man that likes to hurt. You are all the same because you feed off of the pain of others, and for what? Is it to hide from the world the true pain that you feel inside of you so you take it out on others? Is that it Scott? Whatever it is I don't care to know. All I care about is saving this X-Division, and you are one of the people standing directly in my path. This won't be like any fight you have ever been in Scott because we will not be in a steel cage, but that won't stop be me from giving you a beating of the lifetime, something that you won't soon forget. Ask Toby Grace how it feels, I'm sure he's still feeling the affects of our last encounter, but he must have enjoyed it so much that he came back for some more.
    Ghost shakes his head and chuckles slightly.

    No, surely you can't be that foolish Toby? You're not as foolish as you look but I'm sure that you did not ask to be put in this match. Yet, here we are again but we are not alone this time. That still doesn't make your chances any better though, does it Toby? You think what I did to you last time was bad? Well it's about to get a whole lot worse my friend believe me. You're going to wish that you were never even put in this match, hell you'll regret the decision of ever stepping foot inside of a wrestling ring Toby. Like I said before our last match, you are what's wrong with this world and I will once again do my best to rid it of the likes of you.

    Ghost stands up and listens as the fans are chanting.

    You hear that? I fight for those people. Each night I step in that ring I fight for them. Not only that but I fight for this X-Division because it's been injected with a cancer and I may very well be it's only hope. For awhile I thought Vincent Blackbird was the poison, but little did I know he was only trying to do what was best for this division. The real cancer is a man who calls himself a Monster of the Midway, Michael Garcia. He's a man that just wants to watch the world burn, and he'll do whatever it takes to bring this X-division to it's knees but not as long as I'm around. I won't stand for it, and sooner or later we'll cross paths Garcia, I assure of that and then I'll show you what a real monster is like.

    He stands up before walking out.

    Until then I'll let you throw whatever obstacles you can in my path. Tonight, Scott Sylvester and Toby Grace, I hope you two are ready for your judgement day.

    With that Ghost walks out of the locker room to the ring for his match.


    Rest in power, Flock U

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    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  7. #7
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    Those elegant, desirable curves. That amazing colour that sparkles and shimmers in the light. It is the stuff of dreams and of fantasies. There isn't a man or woman in the entire FWA, in fact there is not a single man or woman who has ever even seen or heard of this beauty that doesn't desire to slowly run their hands across those curves. Nothing is more life affirming, nothing is more wanted and lusted after. So many think about that suggestive shade of colour every night in bed. Spurring their fantasies along even more. None of these thoughts can be blamed, to gaze upon that in all its glory, to consider how it would feel against your skin and what it would mean in your life. How could anyone resist? How could anyone not want even just one single night...alone with, one single night where they can proudly say that...they were the FWA World Champion? That gold belt is the pinnacle of the very industry, THE most sought after and valuable prize. Legends, Icons, Gods, Goddesses, Monsters alike have all held the FWA World Championship over the years. A Title born into this world nearly ten years ago, a Title now held by the heralded 'First Lady of Wrestling'; Gabrielle Madison Montgomery.

    And that Championship in all its splendor currently occupies a room all to itself, delicately placed upon a white velvet pedestal. It is commanding our attention and respect as it resides in an otherwise entirely white room. A white floor, white ceiling, white walls, white door, white everything...though it is bare apart from that shiny gold belt. This room could be a blank canvas for a great artist, a room where anything could come to life before our eyes, it is just waiting for that special something...something perhaps even more special than the Championship itself; the Champion herself. We sense her before we ever see her. The gentle echo of her stiletto heels against the tile floor, somehow we can almost smell her perfume and taste it upon the tip of our tongues. For an agonizing few seconds there is that sound of her high heels gracefully touching the floor with her every step...until finally she steps out before our vantage point. She is truly gorgeous, a marvel to behold, a treasure for the eyes. A figure to die for, a wicked smile, a radiant happiness, a warmth to her very soul, she is The Caramel Coated Goddess wrapped in white. A body caressing white jacket, perhaps just one size too small for such an endowed woman, buttoned up as much as it can be before her large breasts strain the thin material and separate buttons from their holes just too much. With so much candy coloured skin on display, so much cleavage, so much perky round perfection on display its clear today she does not wear a bra. Just that tight little jacket which casually reveals just an inch or two of her smooth, toned midriff with each dainty step. A white skirt hugs her things, clings to her hips and embraces her amazing posterior before the material ends just above her knee's. It is a considerably more professional ensemble than what usually adorns this amazing body. An ensemble capped off by the red soled white Louboutin stilettos that really make her long legs pop. An outfit that signifies her elegance and grace...with a twist of the Gabrielle we all know. Classy, seductive, simple yet oh so alluring. It is an outfit that is highlighted by her pearl necklace and white gold hoop earrings. An outfit that makes her delicious caramel skin tone pop even more than usual as that mouth watering complexion stands out against such little colour. And we haven't even gotten to her most delicate features; that beautiful face of hers. Soft skin, a warm slight redness to her cheeks, those full lips constantly kissed with a smile, a cute little nose, and those eyes; a passionate brown, full of life they sparkle and shimmer with light. Her long dark brunette hair is mostly tied back into a bun, save a few strands that frame either side of her beautiful features. She stands there with her back to us one hand on her hip as she runs her other hand delicately along the FWA Unified Undisputed World Championship. She steps around the pedestal gazing down at her Title with admiration and pride before she glances around at the empty white room. This is where tonight Gabrielle will paint the story of her history, and her future.

    Gabrielle:
    It is always nice to simply sit back and reflect on everything, reflect on life; both its triumphs and its hardships. So much emphasis is put on the here and now, put upon always looking forward and never looking back. But our past is what defines us, what we have done is what creates our individual legacies. Without a past we are nothing...nothing but hopes and dreams, distant promises but no guarantee's. Eight years of fighting...twenty years of dreaming...it has all lead to this moment. This moment that begins the year two thousand and fifteen. In a way it is too be the culmination of my legacy, it is the pinnacle of my twenty eight years on this planet.

    Two women. Two Championships. A Pay Per View Main Event. History!

    Never before has this happened, not in my career or anyone else's. When I first signed with the FWA it seemed impossible. Yes I watched Jillian De Silva achieve immortality and become the first ever female World Champion. And I was there in the ring alongside Jenny Ignito, Moira Crawford and Aja Melissa when we headlined an edition of Fight Night way back in two thousand and eight. That was history being made as well. Four women in an FWA Tag team Championship match, it was that moment that everybody like it or not had to accept that times were changing, and that women could compete on any stage, against any gender in any match.

    There is a camaraderie there, no matter how heated things may get, no matter how personal, no matter how much some of us may come to dislike each other. Any win by any woman in this industry is a win for all of is. It is proof positive of what the fairer sex can achieve. Never more so than when a woman climbs up onto the biggest stage she can find and shows to the world what she can do. Jillian De Silva, Moira Crawford, Daniella Kennedy, the late Sara Wolf, Ayla El, Jenny Ignito, Alanna Allure, Aja Melissa...and myself all women who have broken into the boys club and showed the world what a woman can achieve.

    But it doesn't stop there. So many others; Veronique de Moreau, Anyanka, Dinorah Redgrave, Madison West, Saddle Sally, Mackenzie Roberts and even Shannon O'Neil all of them are Champions. All of them represented our gender, and did so proudly, whether for their glory or for the betterment of all their sisters in arms. Even Beatrixx Black who burned bright for just a moment showed how a woman can captivate so many when she is focused and motivated. Beyond the Champions though there are so many more; Raquel Wednesday, Becky Jones Brook, Taylor Toxic, Vendetta, Alexza, Nathalie De Silva, Zoey Ellis and many more have stepped foot in that FWA ring and striven to be the very best that they can be.

    The gorgeous Gabrielle pauses for a few moments, taking the time to let her words hang in the air, and her FWA Undisputed World Championship sparkle under the light.

    Gabrielle:
    But above all, above every other woman that has ever competed in this sport...and I say this not out of sheer ego, but out of fact...there is me; Gabrielle Madison Montgomery. The current reigning FWA World Champion...

    The two time World Champion...

    I have done things that seemed impossible, achieved things that were considered beyond a woman, beyond our gender. Jillian de Silva and Moira Crawford were there first, each holding one of the Titles that would become Unified and Undisputed. But they were seen as mere flash in the pans, a novelty, a brief moment of greatness. I know they were so much more than that, but I have become so much more than even them. I do not hang onto this fact to brag, or to lord over other women. Twice now I have been the World Champion, regardless of gender I am considered to be the epitome of this industry...the best of the best.

    I do not hold this fact over the women that I support in every match, I embrace this fact. I embrace what being the World Champion means. And it means so much more than simply being the best...it means you have to prove it every single night. It means you have to face and defeat everybody. It means you have to answer every challenge, every foe, every adversary...and answer to all your critics.

    That has been my way of life for eight years. I signed with the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance in two thousand and six...debuting at this very event; Trial By Fire eight years ago. Then I was just a manager, just seen as arm candy to stand by Diamond Jack Severino's side. His gorgeous manager and girlfriend, I flaunted my looks and did all I could to help his career. Then the Women's Championship was created. Jenny Ignito returned, Jillian de Silva returned. Women like Moira Crawford and Aja Melissa signed contracts...and a great division was formed.

    In the eight years since I have held seven different Championships. I have won every kind of match imaginable, I have achieved things that see people upset that at the young age of twenty eight...I am not yet in the FWA Hall Of Fame. But through all the cages, all the fire, all the sexually charged matches, all the drama, the love, the loss...there has been one thing I have always waited for...one thing.

    Again Gabrielle pauses, there's perfect silence only broken by the softness of her breath, and highlighted by the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. Her caramel skin contrasts the gold of her Championship wonderfully.

    Gabrielle:
    Now its here, upon my anniversary, upon an event that has seen some of my greatest triumphs and toughest losses. Trial By Fire...Shannon O'Neal. Two women, two Champions...it is unheard of, for such a thing to occur. Never before has it happened, on a night that features Ryan Hall, Stu St.Clair, Jack Of Diamonds, Ryan Rondo, Phillip Jackson and so many others. It is two women that will go on last, two women that will headline...two women that will amaze the world and seek too celebrate the occasion with flames.

    But before I go on any longer I need Shannon to understand something, to embrace something, to respect one thing, if not me, if not my struggle, then these numbers. I was born on September fourteen, nineteen eighty six. That's twenty eight years and four months ago. In that time I have now been the World Champion, the undisputed best of all for just over thirteen months. For over one full year...a year of my life I have held this Championship.

    That is not something that comes easy, winning this Title is something I thought about every day when I was a little girl. Something that was always in the back of my mind when I came of age. Something that I could never let go of when I signed with the FWA. Part of my dream came true eight years ago, I signed with the premier wrestling company in the world. Now I have lived out my greatest dream and so much more. This was never something I demanded to come true, but never something I accepted could be held out of my grasp. I worked harder than everyone else to get here, to be a woman succeeding at the highest level against all competitors.

    I wish I could say my example, my success opened the door for every other woman, but it is still an uphill battle, it is still a long road to getting to where I am. Most people simply don't have it in themselves to fight as hard as I have. I see you taking the easy road Shannon, you never showed any desire, any drive, any determination to better yourself previously. Then you jumped all over a few comments made by Phillip Jackson. You saw an opportunity to make yourself famous without ever having to work as hard as I did. When I signed with the FWA there was no female Champions of any kind, there wasn't even a Women's Championship. All us girls had was pride to fight for. You though, you came into this company when anything is possible, any match, and any Title can be held by a woman determined enough.

    Six women have held Championships once considered to be just for men. World Champions, X Champions, Tag Team Champions. Six women determined to show just how good they were against any foe, then there's you Shannon. A one time Women;s Champion who has yet to defend her belt, a one time Women's Champion who has done her all to belittle my successes...but a one time Women's Champion that in a way I can respect. You see for whatever reason you have shined the light back on the women of the FWA. You have brought all those girls some attention and made the world realise again that it is not just I than can compete with men.

    In my career I have focused upon myself; my dreams, my success, my daughter, my friends...my many romances. I needed to succeed first and foremost, and I'm not foolish enough to think that you put anyone ahead of yourself Shannon. I know its all about you, its all about Shannon wanting to be someone. Even as righteous as dubbing that Championship of yours a World Championship which it is, is all about making you seem more important. You talk so nobly and claim everyone else's success as your own. But all these great female Champions made their mark long before you came along. Ayla El had her first crack at the Tag Team Titles when you were a nobody, she even did so with Divine by her side.

    You're no martyr, you're just another selfish little girl who wants to get to the top the quickest way possible. It took me eight years to be where I am now, eight years of struggling and fighting. Eight years of never backing down from a single challenge. Eight years of never listening to my detractors. I'm not about to start believing the negativity now.

    The Caramel Goddess places a hand on either side of her World Championship belt, she gazes down upon it with glee, marveling in the way it captures her reflection and bares her name.

    Gabrielle:
    I still get giddy whenever I look upon this Title. Whenever I consider just what it means, just what it stands for. That's what I have to fight for every time I step into that ring, the fact that I am the best of the best, I have no peers, I am the World Champion. Can a woman like Shannon O'Neal even begin to comprehend what that entails?

    It is not something to be taken lightly. You have to accept it with every part of your being, does Shannon have that in herself?

    The gorgeous Gabrielle shrugs her shoulders playfully.

    Gabrielle:
    I'm not convinced she does. You've never had to struggle in this ring Shannon, you've never had to fight beyond all hope, to endure pain that you thought would end you...then pick yourself back up and keep fighting. I've been set on fire, humiliated, double crossed, beaten and battered by a cold hearted Snake among other things to prove that I belong, to show that I can take anything and keep fighting. You talked your way to relevance, you talked yourself into a Women's Title match which you did win in your best performance to date. Now though you've talked yourself into a match against me, against The Goddess, the elite of the elite.

    This is an entirely different playing field for you. I did not sacrifice so much blood, sweat and tears just to watch someone else take the easy road, just to watch someone else talk themselves into this position. And that is what you're trying to do, but there comes a point when all the talking stops, when everything you say has to be backed up. For eight years I have backed up my every word, you are living off of one great performance, one Championship. A great Championship, but just one and one that you haven't proven yourself to be the Champion of.

    But at the same time I can admire your bravado, its a badly kept secret that the Women's Champion in the FWA or anywhere else cant really call herself the best female wrestler in the world. Because I'm here, I'm competing for and winning and defending World Championships. So the FWA Women's Championship is second place, its the runner up. You want to be first...to satisfy your ego. Forget all your carefully thought out words, forget this idea of you being a martyr...you just want the fame and the glory. You want people to love and admire you, you want the respect and the money.

    Don't deny it.

    I see through your mask, you talk of honour but never stopped to consider how your actions alongside Jack and Ace could hurt my little girl. I haven't forgotten you standing there, you slapped me in front of my Carmella and celebrated when that neanderthal attacked me. So keep pretending you care about anyone else, pretend you are a noble woman fighting the good fight...I know the truth. I've been here long enough to see a hundred girls just like you throwing empty words around and blaming everyone else.

    It is pathetic.

    And it has gotten you into a fight that simply put Shannon you are not prepared for. You're not prepared for the woman who has defeated over a dozen World Champions. And most of all you are not prepared for Trial By Fire. No one can be the first time, to step foot in a ring where the match only ends when you are on fire or you set another human being on fire. That is a hard thing to do, its not as simple as winning, its preparing yourself to be able to do that, preparing yourself for the smell of burning flesh and the very real possibility it will be your skin sizzling. Its not just a match, its a life altering, life jarring and life changing moment.

    And you with so few battles on your resume actually challenged me to this match. Do you even know what its like to be in there with fire, or with someone who wants to hurt you? Do you even know what its like to be in that ring in a war where you have to give your all even to just keep standing let alone trying to win? This is all those things rolled into one, your first ever truly grand match, your first ever truly big match...and there is none bigger than Trial By Fire competing against Gabrielle, the World Champion. You are in over your head, you have deluded yourself into thinking that you are ready for this and your pride got the best of you.

    I'm sure you had this image of yourself standing tall as I burn in the background...but reality Shannon does not suit your fiction. You will burn for me, you will burn for every woman whose success you have tried to claim, you will burn for your insolence, for your lies. But most of all Shannon you will burn for your Goddess, for your sins. You will burn as a example of what it takes to be where I am, what it takes to be Gabrielle...you will burn for that. I will turn the would be martyr into an effigy to my greatness.

    You will be my personal effigy.

    She doesn't smile or smirk, but she seems happy and focused. This blank canvas was not a canvas for some some grand visual painting, just the determined words of a Goddess unfiltered, untouched, every word poignant and said with conviction. She grips the FWA World Championship and holds it up in front of herself before clasping it around her shapely waist. A simple movement that pulls her tight jacket down just an inch or two, straining it against her marvelous breasts. But its the gold against all that white and all that caramel that sparkles the brightest...well second brightest as in her eyes, those deep brown pools of emotion flickers that familiar flame of wrath, one that will consume Shannon O'Neal soon enough.


  8. #8
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    Inside an empty arena in Indianapolis, Indiana sits a lonely figure up in stands, glaring down at the ring with a stony gaze – blue eyes piercing the center of the canvas with a serious looking expression etched on their owner’s face to boot. The owner? The man who proclaims himself to be “The Last Star in the Sky”: Ryan Rondo.

    In what appears to be some form of déjà vu, he is alone in an empty row of stands as bears down upon the theatre of wrestling… the squared circle, his battlefield. It was here that he sat and proclaimed the beginning of a new era in preparation for the War Games. It was when he announced that he, along with three other men, would bring in the New Era and become victorious. We all know what happened. Drew Stevenson has been stuck in the North American division without a way to push the message across. Mac Michaud is away god knows where. And Jason Gryphon tried to spearhead some sort of movement… yet had his neck broken. The only person who has’t faltered… is Ryan Rondo himself. Constantly pushing and trying… waiting. He sits wearing an APA…B top that has it crossed out with N.E.O spraypainted above it in red along with red wrestling tights.


    Ryan Rondo: The last time you saw something like this… I was part of an effort that would falter due to selfish reasons. I was going for the pinfall… but not because of that world title shot… but because I felt like I had earned it. I effectively cost us the match. But ever since, I have done my best to make it up to everyone. I have stuck around. I’m not going anywhere. But ever since, and particularly now, my mind has been racing back and forth. It’s a team situation where the stakes are high… Me, PAJ and Jackie… we can all walk out with a performance that gets us a title shot. Last time… I was a team player with people I trusted. And no doubt, there will be seeds of discord that JOD will try to plant between me and PAJ. But I have full trust in Phillip. We both know we have been wronged. And we are out to set things right by doing the right thing. This is a team effort. This is about much MORE than the world title.

    Rondo appears to have something in his hand – it’s a deck of cards. He takes them out and begins shuffling them. He starts to walk down the steps – getting closer and closer to the ringside arena. The arena remains dimly lit. There is no spotlight on Rondo – nothing to suggest an intimate setting. He shuffles the deck as he walks.


    Ryan Rondo: You see – the three biggest changes this year… in my opinion, is that me, Phillip and Jack are breaking through. We’ve had outstanding moments this year and now there’s this funny little triangle going on. I don’t know what the issue is exactly since Jack said he had no issue with me yet attacks me, unprovoked. Just to get at Phillip?

    Rondo feigns being shocked and upset


    Ryan Rondo: You hurt my feelings, Jackie. You really did. Did you not think I would retaliate? You drove me to beat you and I did. I don’t feel like I need to pin you to win this match to prove a point. I have done it already. I want to prove that me and PAJ are the clear cut two best guys that will lead this New Era to the top. We are the heroes the fans have been screaming for.


    He looks down at the deck of cards and continues shuffling.


    Ryan Rondo: Phillip’s the man with the plan so I’m sure he will give you the low down but I’m supposed to be the funny one. So y’know… I’ve got these cards and I’m supposed to make quips about how you’re ONLY Jack of Diamonds and not a King or an Ace and about how I’m the Joker and Phillip’s the real Ace of Spades….

    But y’know what? I’m not up for the same gimmicky stuff that you’ve probably seen used against you hundreds of times before.


    Rondo chucks the cards away, scattering all over seats in the distance. He then continues his slow walk down to the ring.


    Ryan Rondo: The facts are… me and PAJ we are on the same page. You can attack me to try and gauge how he reacts and if he helps me… you can do vice versa. We’ve got each other’s backs because we have a common goal that benefits us. And you… everything you say is a façade, a troll, an attempt to drive a stake into the heart of the N.E.O. You thought we would crumble before you after losing Jason Gryphon. Here’s a newsflash: He’s not a leader. None of us are. We’re a team. Unlike you and the chump of Spades, Jack. You’re his master and he’s a slave... you don’t know how to work as a team. Whereas me? Well, I’ve done this whole tag team joking around stuff before – it’s a ride I’ve been on a lot of times. Gryphon was an important member and you took him out… you wanted us to quit, you wanted us to be done with so G-Rich would favour you… do you think I am that blind!?

    He stops and takes a quick look around the arena. Thinking of it being full… a lot of people that’d be…


    Ryan Rondo: Everyone knows that I’m relaxed. I’m laidback. But do you think I’m stupid? Do you think your intentions and actions would not be found out when you have all these fans’ eyes in the arena piercing through your soul all the time? They see everything. That’s why the boo your ass out of the building everytime you step through that curtain. That’s why they cheer for PAJ. That’s why they cheer for me. Because they know this is our chance to put you and your sordid group in place. Shannon finds out what it’s like to compete with a World Champion whilst the N.E.O. will get to take care of something that everyone seems to holler about. How did you get such a high card placement upon returning?

    I must apologise for sounding rude. But – it’s what the supposed IWC want to know. I, personally, respect you for the fact you were for the first competitor in a FWA match… that’s a huge achievement and recognition is deserved. But they don’t. And when I see you act arrogant and disrespect me and the rest of the FWA… I start to swing to that way of thinking. And sometimes anger strikes these shades of blue you see infront of you.


    “The Amazing One” continues his descending walk towards the ring. Despite speaking about being angry and all – he still has a stonefaced gaze and doesn’t seem to give anything away. The former North American Champion has been serious for a while.

    Ryan Rondo: It started with promises being made to family, friends... terminally ill people. I promised them that I would get the world title one day. That promise still stands, I am going to do it come hell or high water. I declared that I am going to be the one to enter the Carnal Contendership and win it and that is my intention. So I stand here conflicted… I stood for a team objective in a match like this once and I was disappointed… and no doubt I will hear a lot about how PAJ stole the win in the World Title match against Shane McLean… but that is the past. I have moved on to greener pastures and it’s something else now. PAJ was wronged before and he won the title and deserves his shot first. It’s the honourable thing to do and I will gladly sit by and watch my new friend take the pin and win if it means he gets the shot. It’s all he deserves after the injustice he suffered at the hands of G-Rich!

    He finally reaches the barricade after the long walk down the steps. He takes a hop over and takes a casual walk over to the commentary table. He takes a small seat – where the Legendary Sam McDonald would sit and puts his feet up on the table, he puts on the headset and lies back on the seat.

    Ryan Rondo: At the end of the day, I could just relax and let PAJ go through all the hardship and make the save and be the hero of the day and stand out that way. But why? I’ve always been that slow burn guy. Only now am I starting to really become the name that’s on everybody’s lips. I’ve spent years building up a reputation and I don’t want it to be destroyed by foolishness. I don’t care for the benefits of being selfish in this match when all I am doing is setting out to prove that the team of the N.E.O. is better than the team of Jack of Diamonds and his cohort. That’s all there is to it in my mind. This is a showcase of a team rather than two individual talents. This isn’t about our hunt for a title or for anything, you changed this all, Jack when you attacked Gryphon and then attacked me. You made it become more about something along the lines of vengeance with some title implications as an undertone.

    Listen here and listen close. I don’t care if you feel you deserve another chance. I don’t care if you think you deserved to win. The fact is, you’re not allowed to think you can try to take me or PAJ out without some consequences. Those consequences come at Trial By Fire. Trust me. You’ll see a Ryan Rondo set on helping his team win the match rather than lose in a disjointed, individual and selfish effort. I know the true things that are at stake here and I’ll fight for them. Simple as that.


    He gets up off of the chairs and chucks the headset away and walks around the ring and walks up the ramp. An empty arena full of somewhat deafening silence. As he walks up the ramp, he takes a moment and turns around to look down at the ring.

    Again, Déjà vu hits like a ton of bricks…

    You can feel the tension in the air… you can just tell that the atmosphere will be electric when Gabrielle steps into the ring and takes on Shannon O’Neal or when the NEO take on JOD and his crew… that’s the reason right there why you want to be a wrestler. The atmosphere, the crowd participation… the absorbance. It’s the reason why Rondo is as big and is as good as a wrestler as he is nowadays. Through the fans.


    Ryan Rondo: I’ll do the same thing that I do every week here in the FWA. My music will hit, I’ll come out and I’ll stand and let the fans shout whatever they want. Cheer, boo… the atmosphere they create, I’ll use it and I’ll up the ante. Can you go with that? Can you take the heat? Because me and Phillip are going to bring it like never before. This is the beginning of what is going to be the year of the new era and we’re help bring in the beginning of it. The beginning of a TRUE, New Era. We might part ways sometime, we may be rivals in the future but for this night at Trial By Fire, we’re allies and we have one simple message for you and your cronies, Jack:

    You’re going down.

    That’s all there is to it. That’s the encompassing message. Vengeance, title shots… all this is boils down to is this wrestling match and I know at the end of the day that I and Phillip are better wrestlers than you. And we will prove it. This might as well be a Trial by Fire for all of us.

    I look forward to it.


    Rondo then turns around and walks from the stage to the curtain to the backstage area with the scene cutting out.




    ~
    ~ THE KING OF KINGS ~~
    Spoiler:






  9. #9
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    A Trip Down Memory Lane
    And the rabbit hole. And to the land of the machines. Sort of.




    "Yes, Peter Gruner, please."
     

    Disinfected walls and sterilized floors are the first thing we see as the feed springs to life. We see one half of the Tag Team Champions, "Rockstar" Randy Ramon standing at a receptionist counter in the main lobby of the Good Shepard Physical Rehabilitation Center in Allentown, Pennsylvania. His pea coat is buttoned up the front, covering the "revELution" t-shirt he wears underneath. Heavy snow boots cover his feet while a knit hat and scarf keep his head warm.
     
    Receptionist – "Okay, sir, are you friend or family?"
     
    R3 – "Technically friend, but he’s always been like a father to me."
     
    See, back in the days of Juggalo ChampionshXt Wrestling, back when Peter Gruner and Scott Levy were beating the holy hell out of one another, Randy and Cameron, excuse me; Randy and Syn were teenagers, best buddies who were both training for this business we call ours. Randy, therefore, spent a lot of time with the Gruners and began to look up to Peter, in particular. Randy’s own father had become an alcoholic after the death of his wife, leaving Randy and his siblings to practically fend for themselves. As a result of this, Peter became more of a father figure to young Randy than his own father ever could have.
     
    Receptionist – "Alright, we typically don’t let friends in until five, and it’s only three… but there’s no family here visiting at the moment, so I can let you in, this time."
     
    R3 – "That doesn’t surprise me, but thank you so much."
     
    Randy lifts a brown paper bag from the counter, signs the sheet the receptionist requires him to sign, and follows her directions to room twenty seven. The site he sees upon opening the door nearly buckles his knees: Peter is in a wheel chair. He seems to have all of his faculties, but seeing the former Champion in such a fashion is a true culture shock.
     
    R3 – "Mister G, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner…"
     
    If you’ll recall a month or so ago, Syn launched a devastating attack on his father and mother during an episode of Smash, from which the lady has fully recovered. Peter however is in the midst of a grueling journey to recovery, literally taking one step at a time. With the rush of the holidays and his own issues, this is the first chance Randy has had to step away since the incident.
     
    Peter – "Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad to see you."
     
    Randy takes the brown bag from under his arm and hands to Peter, who quickly opens it. His eyes light up.
     
    Peter – "You remembered! My favorites…"
     
    R3 – "Authentic Philly Soft Pretzels."
     
    Peter – "I might be Allentown born and raised, but Philly is where the food is at! Please, sit down."
     
    Randy thanks him and politely takes a seat opposite of Peter, a kitchen table between the two of them.
     
    R3 – "So are you feeling better?"
     
    Peter - *chuckles* - "Better is relative, Randy. I still can’t walk, but they say I should be able to stand on my own soon."
     
    R3 – "I still can’t believe he wou-"
     
    Peter cuts him off mid-sentence.
     
    Peter – "Let’s not kid ourselves… ever since he hooked up with Chance, this is who he is. He just doesn’t care about anyone but himself and Fortune."
     
    Peter breaks one of the pretzels off, taking a huge bite.
     
    R3 – "I know, but to see him treat you that way; You and Amy. It was horrible."
     
    A moment of awkward silence ensues.
     
    R3 - *staring down at a spot on the ground* - "I’m going to make him pay. I know he’s your son, and I know somewhere in there he’s my friend, but I don’t care anymore. He’s been a thorn in my side and a monkey on my back for too damn long, and I’m done with it. Every time I try to break away and make something of myself, there he is, trying to bring me down. Every time I accomplish something, every time I start to feel like life means something, he shows up and… undoes everything. And now this."
     
    Peter – "Is that why you came here?"
     
    R3 – "What do you mean?"
     
    Peter - *chuckles* - "You came here for my permission. You feel bad about fighting Cameron, and you want my approval before doing anything you might regret."
     
    R3 – "That’s twisted… why would I…"
     
    Peter – "You have it."
     
    R3 – "…need your… wait what?"
     
    Peter – "You think I’m going to sit here and tell you to go easy on him? You think I’m going to sit here – in the wheel chair HE put me in – and beg for mercy for HIM? Come on Randy…"
     
    R3 – "That’s not what I…"
     
    Peter – "You know as well as I do that the boy needs a good ass whooping. We both know that that ass whooping HAS to come from you. This is the circle that you two have entered. You are the yin to his hang, the head to his tail, the Spy to his Spy. I know we’ve been down this road before, and I know that we both know how it ends… It ends with you kicking his teeth down his god damned throat."
     
    Randy, puzzled, takes off his gloves and lays them on the table.
     
    R3 – "So… no matter what happens… we’re… good?"
     
    Peter – "We’re great. Just make sure he feels every bit of what he’s done to you, and what he’s done to me. And keep him away from your pretty little partner there."
     
    R3 – "Ayla?"
     
    Peter – "Yeah, remember what happened last time someone got between you two."
     
    R3 – "Chris…"
     
    Randy brushes his hair from his face and puts a lot of thought into what he wants to say next.
     
    R3 – "But how? I mean, physically I know, but how do I show him what he’s been doing? How do I show him how much he’s been hurting people that care about him? How do I make him understand that we only want to help him? I’ve tried everything. I was hoping maybe you could offer some insight… before Chance, you were the only one who he would listen to."
     
    Peter thinks for a long second.
     
    Peter – "You have to go back to where it all began."
     
    R3 – "Wait, what?"
     
    Peter – "Yes, that’s the only thing he’ll understand."
     
    Peter rolls the wheelchair across the room until he comes to a nightstand, his wallet sitting on top. He opens it and flips through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He removes the item and places it in the palm of Randy’s hand. A key.
     
    R3 – "Is this… I thought… Cam said this was gone forever?"
     
    Peter – "Because that’s what I told him…"
     
    R3 – "And this will work?"
     
    Peter nods as the scene ends.
     
    Scene opens some time later in front of a large, steel, rollup door – kind of like one of those you would see on a storage unit. "Rockstar" Randy Ramon stands in front of the door, key in hand, wearing the same outfit we saw when he talked with Peter Gruner some time ago. He shrugs his shoulders and unlocks the giant master lock that holds the gate down. With a quick squat and a thrust of the arms, he swings the gate high above his head and reads the sign in front of him:
     
    Spoiler:

    jCw
    arena
     
    He swings the door in front on him open and waltzes inside, locking the door behind him. He drops his bag and coat near the door, and makes his way directly to the tech station. He checks over the equipment to be sure it still works.
     
    R3 – "I’m gonna want to broadcast this…"
     
    Randy sets the arena cameras to record, flicks on the lights and rigs the sound system up to play his music in a few minutes. He quickly slips into the gorilla position and prepares himself. All of the sudden it hits:

     
    THIS IS MY TOWN
    It’s my town!
    It’s my town!
    It’s my town!

     
    He hears cheers in his head as he explodes through the curtain, arms raised at either side, before breaking in a wicked air guitar solo. After a few seconds he runs down the ramp, high fiving imaginary people and slides into the ring. To the top rope he goes, again playing air guitar for the hundreds of folks who are not in attendance. He smirks, hops down and bounces off the ropes as he waits for the music to stop – since there’s no one to stop it for him. When it does, he looks directly into the camera.
     
    R3 – "You know I’ve always wanted to do that. When I used to run around the back here I would always try, but they never let me… so to do that… here… right now… means so much. But I’m not here, broadcasting to you all in an attempt to reminisce and jack off all over this ring. I’m here because of Cameron."
     
    Randy takes a deep breath and leans against the ring ropes, dust flying everywhere as he tells a story.
     
    R3 – "Cameron, Synplicity, Syn, the Sympleton, whatever it is you call yourself these days… you know this is where we met. This is where the vicious cycle we’re caught in started. This is where we first became friends… where we first became enemies… where we first stepped into the squared circle and beat the holy hell out of one another… the first time of many. And ever since this place… we’ve been unable to separate. I move on, you follow. I do good for myself, you try to take it away. I try to be your friend, you grow jealous of my other relationships, you stab me in the back… it doesn’t end… and I’m… tired."
     
    He makes his way to the opposite side of the ring and sits down, cross legged, next to a stain on the canvas.
     
    R3 – "See that right there? That’s my blood. Barbed wire will do that to you. In fact, I still have the scars. But do you even remember what we were fighting about? I don’t. Time has wiped away the meaning and disdain that caused that blood stain to be born. And over here…"
     
    Randy rolls out of the ring and picks up the ring bell from ringside.
     
    R3 – "This here? This is the ring bell I drove into the base of your neck… this is the bell that rang your bell the first time I pinned you, of many I might add. I remember feeling a sense of release when the sickening "ding" rang out. I remember feeling accomplished, like I had done something good… something… but I don’t remember what. It’s been so long that I barely even remember the feeling."
     
    He lays the bell down and walks around the ring. He starts walking up the ramp, stopping just before the curtain.
     
    R3 – "And this is the scaffolding we fell off of. At least that’s what they said when I came to. I remember fighting way up there, and the next thing I know I’m in a hospital room, a mere curtain separating me from the guy who put me there. But the thing is… I don’t know why we were up there. I don’t know why we had to do that to one another… hell; I don’t know why we did any of it."
     
    He pauses.
     
    R3 – "Come to think of it, I don’t know why we’re fighting now. I mean there’s the obvious thing… the Tag Team Championships… but WHY? I mean… all you had to do was ask, and I would have convinced Ayla to give you a match for them… you didn’t have to be a dick… you didn’t have to piss Ayla off to the point that she’s ready to castrate you with your own damn teeth… we could have went about this as friends, like I thought we were… we could have had a ‘friendly’ as the soccer folk call it… but instead, I’m going to end this… by any means necessary. I don’t know why, and I may never know, but you need to be taught a lesson once and for all. You can’t just fuck with people, and play games with their head and get away with it…
     
    Take a look at your ‘buddy’ there the Manatee… if you fucked with him like you’ve fucked with me, do you really think he’d still be your friend? Hell no. He’d hang you upside down by your miniscule nutsack for the world to see. But after everything… after all that… I’m standing here, sending you this message… after all of this, after we step into the ring at Trial By Fire, after we kick your asses, after we retain our championships… after everything… I’ll still be your friend. But you’ve gotta stop being a dipshit and man the fuck up. You have parents who love you… I’d KILL for that… I haven’t heard from my Dad in years… and you know where my Mom is if you’d like to visit her… but you let this fucktard Chance get in your head and let him convince you to put Pete in a wheel chair? To almost maim Amy? Come on Cam… you’re stronger than that… you know how I know?"
     
    Randy points to the rafters. A single (empty) bucket of (formerly) applesauce hangs in the balance.
     
    R3 – "Because Applesauce, bitch."
     
    He stays silent for a moment, looking directly in the camera; to be sure Syn gets the message.
     
    R3 – "And don’t think for one second that I forgot about you Manatee. It’s just that I don’t have a lot of time for the guy who is clearly not the leader of the Movement. I don’t have much time for guys who rub up on little boys and call it ‘playtime.’ In fact, Neverland Ranch called… they want their molester back.
     
    But all kidding aside… I don’t know what your game is. You’ve been unusually quiet… extremely in the background this whole time… and I’m not sure where you’re coming from. I mean is it just the Championships you’re after? Or is there more to it? Are you just another pawn in another of Sympleton’s games? Or are you controlling him? Or worse, has he convinced you that he’s in the right? Let me ask you… have you met Chance yet? Because I’d bet you my last damn bottle of Tullamore Dew that you have a knife in your back long before you get any closer to these Titles. If you are unaware, Chance has some sort of control over Syn, and while he may be in the background, not showing his hideous face right now, he’s in his head… I guarantee it. So… sleep with one eye open."
     
    Randy turns and starts to walk off camera, but stops half way, back to the feed, speaking clearly and concisely.
     
    R3 – "At Trial By Fire, this ends. The names may change, but the outcome will be the same. The revELution will prevail, and there will be no rematch. There will be no ‘one more match,’ no ‘there was something in my eye’ and no Toner-esque bitching into another chance. You have one chance… use it wisely.
     
    Applesauce. BITCH!"
     
    Randy ducks into the back through the curtain and goes straight to the AV room, shutting down the lights, the feed, everything. He’s in the process of collecting his things when his phone chirps from his pocket. He checks it:
     
    From Ayla:

    "Hey Randy, I hope you got your head out of that cloud of lies that Syn created. We've worked too damn hard to keep these titles, but even more than that we worked too hard to get distracted now. I know you won't let me down."
     
    He sighs, his inner monologue kicking in.
     
    "I wish she could see Cameron like I do… I wish she knew him like I do… I know she’s looking out for me, but I wish she’d calm down a little. Syn is the one who needs help, not me… but at the same time, it’s important that I don’t let him screw this up for me… I can’t let him come between Ayla and me… I can’t let him pull me down anymore. And I sure as hell won’t let him take these titles from us… I’m so done with this… it all ends at Trial By Fire. The Movement has been playing with fire for too long, and it’s time they get burned."
     
    Fade.
    Last edited by Jorah Mormont; 01-09-2015 at 02:14 PM.


  10. #10
    Architect of BTB Shield

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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    *The feed opens to static before switching to a camera view from the passenger seat of the FWA van as it pulls up in front of Silentium Industries and parks in the spot right in front of the door. The cameraman gets out and turns to capture the sunset before moving around like he’s scratching an itch on his neck.*

    ???: Why do you keep messing with that thing Ronnie?


    *The camera sweeps around to show Katie Goldsmith, dressed in a light blue skirt, white blouse and light blue heels while holding an FWA microphone. As the camera scans her up and down it stops around her neck to show that she’s wearing the diamond Cryos gave her on a necklace, hanging low enough to draw attention to…the top of her blouse…*


    Ronnie: You try going from a hard collar neck brace to a soft collar and see if you don’t mess with your neck every once in a while. Why are you wearing *points to the diamond* that?


    Katie Goldsmith: …Let’s just go do the interview…


    *Ronnie shrugs as they both head for the front door. Katie grabs the handle, takes a deep breath and swiftly pulls the door open. Katie and Ronnie walk in the lobby and Cryos’s secretary, wearing a black skirt and dark blue blouse with black heels, stands up from behind her desk and greets the two with a smile.*


    ???: Ms. Goldsmith, Ronnie nice to see you both.


    *The secretary turns her head toward Ronnie and glances with appraisal.*


    ???: I see you’re healing up nicely.


    Ronnie: Thank y…


    ???: Just remember what got you there in the first place, okay rabbit?


    *She turns her attention from Ronnie to Katie.*


    ???: Right this way. Mr. Cryos is expecting you.


    *The secretary turns and motions for Katie and Ronnie to follow her. The camera sweeps around as they walk through the waiting area in the lobby towards the mahogany door with a frosted glass window pane that leads to Cryos’s office. They turn left and the secretary leads them to the first meeting room on the right with full length frosted glass windows and door. The secretary grabs the metallic handle and opens the door, motioning for them to go inside. Ronnie follows Katie as they both walk in the room to see Cryos, wearing a black suit and shirt with a light blue tie, sitting on one side of the long mahogany table reading a file. Cryos looks up from the file to see Katie and Ronnie. Ronnie zooms the camera in quick enough to see the file’s label reads “MICHAEL GARCIA” before Cryos closes it and slides it down the other end of the table. Cryos stands and adjusts his suit coat as his eyes quickly scan Katie’s outfit, stopping on the necklace before looking back up at her face. Cryos extends his hand and Katie quickly accepts his handshake.*


    Cryos: Ms. Goldsmith, you look very nice today. Very good taste in not only colors, but jewelry as well.


    *Katie blushes and looks away from Cryos, twirling her hair slightly.*


    Goldsmith: Thank you…Normally I wouldn’t accept gifts from the wrestlers but this was a little too good of a gift to pass up!


    *Ronnie clears his throat and Katie quickly shakes off her slight trance, straightening her posture as Cryos turns his head to look into the camera, slightly irritated at the interruption.*


    Cryos: Ronnie, I see you’ve gotten down to the soft collar. Your healing and rehab must be progressing nicely.


    Ronnie: Well actually…


    Goldsmith: Do you mind us getting started Mr. Cryos?


    Cryos: Not at all Ms. Goldsmith.


    Goldsmith: You can call me Katie if you want…


    Cryos: In that case, you can call me Cryos. If you want to that is…


    Goldsmith: I definitely wanna call you some…


    *Ronnie quickly clears his throat again and points to the lens, reminding Katie of what they’re there for. Katie shakes her head again and clears her throat as Cryos, Katie and Ronnie all take their seats at the table. After she straightens her hair and does a quick sound check, Katie gives a quick confirmation nod to Ronnie and he points two fingers at her to signal they’re on the air.*


    Goldsmith: Ladies and Gentlemen of the FWA my guest at this time is a man who is quickly beginning to take the FWA by storm. He is on quite a winning streak since debuting and he is the man who will be facing Drew Jolson at Trial By Fire in a No Submissions Allowed match. Fans of the FWA, please welcome Cryos.


    Cryos: Thank you Katie.


    Goldsmith: The history between yourself and Drew Jolson is a very heated one. In only your second match in the FWA you defeated Jolson using your Spirit Breaker submission hold, also breaking his wrist. Since that match, Jolson has been very vocal about the Spirit Breaker being banned from use in the FWA. What are your thoughts on that?


    Cryos: Jolson is trying to get the Spirit Breaker banned because he needs as much help as he can get to beat me and he knows it. He keeps saying it’s a dangerous submission, but the part he purposefully leaves out is that it’s dangerous to him. I had that hold on him for under ten seconds before he tapped out, signaling the pain was too much for him to bear. I guess the spirit of a paper champion really is as weak as paper huh?


    Goldsmith: Drew Jolson got the right to name the stipulation for your match at Trial By Fire through his recent association with the X-Division President, Michael Garcia. Since all your wins have been earned with the Spirit Breaker submission hold, are you worried that the No Submissions Allowed stipulation of your match will limit your ability to win?


    *Cryos smirks for a brief moment before shifting his position in his seat.*


    Cryos: I’m not worried at all. As a matter of fact, I think that stipulation all but guarantees that I’m going to win this match.


    Goldsmith: How so?


    Cryos: This is just showing of one of his greatest weaknesses, which is his inability to get the job done on his own. First it was Lovisa Snow, then it’s his wrist cast and now it’s his alignment with Garcia. He needs all of that just to try to be on equal footing with me because he can’t touch me otherwise. He probably thinks that I can’t win without the Spirit Breaker. But that’s the difference between me and a target.


    *Cryos shifts in his chair and puts his arms on the table, cracking his knuckles before resting his right hand on top of his left and staring at Katie.*


    Cryos: Targets are like ants. They only have one direction they can go and they can’t deal with a blocked path very well. Targets have only one plan and they have no alternatives or backups after getting punched in the mouth. That doesn’t apply to me. If you try to cut off Plan A for me, I’ll just go to one of the other 25 plans in my arsenal. Jolson may think that I can’t win against him now, but he’s sadly mistaken. He’s delusional if he truly believes that, but I plan to snap him out of that delusion very quickly. Besides, we’ve all seen how he does in stipulation matches as of late…


    Goldsmith: What do you mean?


    Cryos: Jolson actually lost a match that was billed as an unwinnable match for Vincent Blackbird. Jolson was afforded every advantage you can possibly fathom during that match by Garcia and he still lost. Losing an unlosable match is just a sign of things to come in our match.


    Goldsmith: You mentioned earlier that you have a wide variety of other plans to deal with this stipulation. Would you mind letting us in on one of them?


    Cryos: I don’t mind at all. Since he was “kind enough” to tell me what’s coming, I want Jolson to know what’s coming for him.


    *Cryos shifts his gaze from Katie to the camera, directing his ice-cold stare right into the lens.*


    Cryos: Jolson, you said that you were going to break my spirit and my rise in the FWA. I think it’s only fair that I break something of yours instead. You’re planning to break my spirit, but I’m planning to break…your neck. You’ve taken the Spirit Breaker away from me. So I’m going to take something away from you. Something that you no doubt take for granted, but will treasure once it’s gone. Jolson, start shopping for other ways to get around. Because at Trial By Fire, after I Pull The Trigger on your ass, I’m going to take away…YOUR ABILITY TO WALK!


    *Cryos makes a gun with the fingers on his right hand, then makes a motion as if he’s pulling a trigger before the screen cuts to static and fades to black.*

  11. #11
    #GrimLove

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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    A Blast From The Past


    Syn is sitting in The Movement's locker room alone after Fight Night goes off the air he is on a bench as he breathes in and out sweat is dripping from his forehead as he looks into the camera he's dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt that reads R3 on the front and GWA on the back.


    Syn:
    Randy at the gym the other night I felt like we worked through our problems but after watching the monitor earlier when you were talking to Ayla El it is clear that you say one thing but do another. So I have contacted an old mentor of yours to bring a surprise for you and this surprise will be in my corner at Trial By Fire but don't worry I'm not going to keep you in suspense anymore. Please welcome the man who taught you everything you know Randy your own mentor and trainer... Scott Levy.


    Scott walks into the camera spreads his arms apart and is dressed in a black Punisher shirt blue jeans with holes in them and a leather jacket. His long flowing hair lays perfectly to the sides and past the back of his neck.

    Scott:
    Remember me? The man who taught you how to wrestle? I may be taking it easy these days but when I heard from Syn and after watching the last few weeks of FWA... I knew I had to come back. I plan to put an end to this once and for all at the Pay Per View, and I hope you're ready Randy.


    Scott walks out and a few moments later Humanity walks into The Movement's locker room. He is wiping sweat from his forehead, as he is out of his ring-clothes and in his streets: A grey polo shirt, with dark blue jeans and brown cowboy boots. He sighs contently, holding his bag around his shoulder, walking over to where Syn sits. He tosses his bag on the ground and pops a squat next to his partner. Even though he lost, Humanity is in quite a cheery mood.

    Humanity:
    How was that for showing the big boys we mean business?

    Syn pats his partner on the back.

    Syn:
    We had a pretty strong showing. We proved we belong in the main event, but this Pay Per View we're relegated to pure midcard status; but that's alright with me because for all I care we could open the PPV, but as long as we get our hands on RevELution, it's fine with me. But we can't let our emotions get the best of us brother, because this is our shot at bringing the first gold home to The Movement. Let's not fuck this up.

    Humanity nods his head and squeezes the bridge of his nose. He's finally managed to wipe away all the sweat from himself. He looks down at his boots, staring at the brown leather.

    Humanity:
    Trial By Fire. An interesting name, but a concept I'm all too familiar with. It reminds me of my EWA days. The past, you know... October 28, 2007. My second King of the Hardcore Match. It was a brutal trial, but I overcame the odds and won. It's like now; we're faced with a test, and tonight was only the beginning. However, at Trial by Fire, we fight for our first titles; against the past... Your past, Syn. Randy Ramon.

    Syn nods in agreement and then speaks up.

    Syn:
    I've had my own trials by fire, mostly against Randy. I will tell you in all our matches I've won half the time, and I've lost half the time. That is why we need to make sure we over-prepare for this match because Randy is no joke. I know I won't be in the ring the entire time Randy is so you need to make sure you're prepared. But as a team we've yet to tap or get pinned, so I know we'll enter ready to take care of business.

    Humanity stands, stretching his arms upwards and giving a heavy sigh

    Humanity:
    Preparation is key, my friend. However, I'm finished... Finished hiding and playing the good little boy. I ask you, a question about Randy. What is a man?

    Syn:
    A man is someone who takes care of his business takes care of those he loves and does it without complaint. That isn't Randy. Randy is a one man comedy act. However he has been a friend of mine from time to time and when he's not causing the problem he's bailed me out of many a situation in the past. i'm still very conflicted on my future with Randy and where it's headed but I'm not letting that get in my way of taking his tag team titles.

    Humanity wags his fingers gently back and forth, as if intent to correct his partner, Syn.


    Humanity:
    Not only that... but a man is a miserable pile of secrets. You may be Randy Ramon's best friend... but surely, you don't know everything about him. Surely there's things he doesn't want his best friend to know... doesn't that... disturb you?

    Humanity grows a wicked, yet facetious grin. Syn bows his head and sighs.

    Syn:
    Well... There's things I don't know about you and there's things you don't know about me but all the same we get along. Nobody in FWA has seen my dark side in it's full form even yet but I guarantee it's still in there. I can be an evil, manipulative, downright bastard but still whenever I've needed Randy he's been by my side. A friend is someone you can share a secret with a Best friend will help you bury a body without questions. That is the kind of friend Randy has been and it's so rare to find.

    Humanity stands there, nodding his head.

    Humanity:
    Yet a best friend surely wouldn't stand opposite of you. Surely a best friend wouldn't try to destroy you, they wouldn't turn their backs on you! What kind of friend is that now?

    Syn sighs again and he runs his hand through his hair.

    Syn:
    You have a point but it's a complicated friendship but all the same I believe it's one worth keeping

    Humanity gently claps his hands together and continues secretly grinning devilishly.

    Humanity:
    Oh you can most certainly keep it... but if it gets in the way, I promise there will be consequences for both parties. Remember that well, Syn.

    A knock is heard at the door. Syn gets up and opens it and Cyb3r walks in.

    Cyb3r:
    Hey boys I want to offer a proposition to you both.

    Humanity turns to look at Cyb3r, inherently not surprised by her entering of the locker room.

    Humanity:
    What is your presence for?

    Cyb3r:
    Well I want to be the Woman's champion and I'm getting nowhere on my own. I'm offering to join and help the Movement.

    Syn:
    Cyb3r I ran with you in the Yakuza in EPW but I want you to know this isn't nor will it ever be your group. You need to be willing to be low woman on the totem pole.

    Cyb3r:
    That's fine I want the Womens Title not control. I know with your help I could accomplish it.

    Humanity stands there for a moment, before rubbing his chin, contemplating the opportunity.

    Humanity:
    A master hacker... perhaps... do you have a sick sense of humor to dare ask of us something? Perhaps... maybe... could work...

    Humanity finally comes to a conclusion and snaps his fingers

    Humanity:
    You may join, but first, you must prove yourself worthy... in your next match. But don't worry, win, lose, whatever, just do something to impress.

    Cyb3r:
    No problem I planned on tearing that woman a new asshole anyways. It would be a pleasure.

    Humanity nods his head, pleased by her words.

    Humanity:
    Good. Good. Well then, that makes you the moniker of #4. Welcome... but remember, The Movement is always watching.

    Cyb3r:
    Thanks... I'll get out of your way then before I wear out my welcome.

    Syn:
    Plus I think it's time for a shower anyways.

    Humanity nods at the both of them.

    Humanity:
    Right... Syn, I already took a shower, I'll just wait for you.

    Minutes later Syn walks out of the bathroom and is dressed in blue jeans and a Grim t-shirt from CWA.

    Syn:
    Ready to go Grim.

    Humanity nods but motions for him to go on ahead

    Humanity:
    Go on ahead of me. There's something I need to first.

    Humanity waits as Syn exits the room. Humanity slowly widens his grin, before laughing heartily.

    Humanity:
    Ooooh poor poor Syn. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place. And who is to blame? One man of course... Randy.

    Humanity turns to stare at the grey brick wall, laced with hooks and towel holders.

    Humanity:
    They all thought I was self-righteous... hehe, they thought wrong. They called me a monster? They have no idea... Randy Randy Randy... who's been pulling the strings out of all of this? I have of course.

    Humanity laughs again, and smiles wickedly.

    Humanity:
    I've been turning Syn against you... why? Because you deserve it. Syn says no one has seen his dark side... but I guarantee to make that dark side a reality. After all, what fun is it when there's no chaos that's created. You can call me manipulative, and you can call me a puppet master... but I'm not. I'm just... conveniently helping Syn realize himself.

    Humanity chuckles wildly as he slowly opens the door and exits...


    To Indianapolis


    Syn and Humanity walk into the airport and walk up to the ticket counter line. The big sign behind the ticket agents reads 'Jet Blue' Syn smiles as they finally approach the front and they are greeted by the ticket agent.

    Ticket Agent:
    Welcome to Jet Blue how can we provide you excellent service today?

    Syn:
    Two first class tickets to Indianapolis please.

    Humanity:
    Right. Front row if possible?

    Ticket Agent:
    Of course, There's a flight leaving in 30 minutes if you use the first class passenger line you can get there in time.

    Humanity nods and walks into the line. Syn follows behind as he they reach security and Syn takes off his shoes and puts his bags on the X-Ray machine. As Syn goes through Humanity is already past this point, and makes a funny comment.

    Humanity:
    Airport security these days. It's as if now they're checking to see if NAKED people have bombs up their asses.

    Syn:
    Bro let's not get busted by airport security for being smartasses we need to get on the plane.

    Humanity chuckles and waves a hand in dismissal. Syn grabs his bags and puts his shoes back on as he finally makes his way through the whole body scan detector.

    Syn:
    Oooh Auntie Anne's Pretzels, let's get a cinnamon sugar Pretzel.

    Humanity:
    Fine fine. Go ahead. I don't need much. I'll just read.

    Syn:
    Awesome.

    Syn departs and moments later returns with his pretzel. An announcement is heard overhead 'Flight 351 to Indianapolis is now boarding.'

    Syn:
    Okay let's get a move on.

    Humanity:
    I'm going, I'm going.

    Moments later they approach the gate and Syn hands his ticket over to the woman at the gate she scans it and hands it back to Syn as he stands at the entryway to the plane waiting on Humanity. Humanity hands over his ticket to the lady just the same, but the lady recognizes him and smiles. He smiles back and walks past her.

    Humanity:
    Let's move.

    Humanity and Syn enter the plane and take their seats next to one another.

    Syn:
    Hey bro how are you liking FWA?

    Humanity turns to him with a rather straight face.

    Humanity:
    Aside from the assholes that claim you to be a perverted pedophile, and the others that are jokes... and the women being the champions... just fine actually.

    Syn:
    I think Women have no place in a ring with a man but Gabrielle keeps proving me wrong week after week. One of these days I will get my hands around her neck and choke the life out of her and then these women will stop trying to get in the ring with monsters and beasts.

    Humanity nods his head and smiles.

    Humanity:
    Indeed. Indeed.

    Syn
    : I hate the fact that there's so few tag teams in the FWA. After we finally beat RevELution, who's left?

    Humanity:
    Plain and simple, No one. No one is man enough to fight The Movement, only stupid enough to.

    Syn:
    Damn right bro. Too true, too true.

    The pilot speaks, as the in flight demonstration of how to operate a seat belt ends.

    Pilot: Ladies and Gentleman we'll be departing next we should be in indianapolis by 5pm and we expect a smooth flight.

    Humanity puts his seat belt on and pulls out his book, titled Catcher in the Rye. Syn peeks at the book and laughs.

    Syn:
    Why am I not surprised Brian?

    Humanity:
    It's a rather good book. I also have Peace and War by Tolstoy.

    Syn:
    I prefer Nietzsche.

    Humanity shrugs and continues reading. Syn pulls out his tablet puts his headphones on and begins watching David Lynch's Lost Highway. A stewardess comes by with a tray of drinks.

    Stewardess:
    Anything to drink?

    Syn:
    Yeah, get me a Budweiser.

    Stewardess prepares Syn's drink then hands it over and looks at Humanity. Humanity looks up at the stewardess.

    Humanity:
    Water.

    The stewardess opens a bottle of water than hands it over to Humanity.

    Stewardess:
    My husband watches you both; he is a huge wrestling fan and I have to admit even I watch FWA from time to time. Best of luck at Trial By Fire.

    Syn looks up from his tablet.

    Syn:
    Thanks.

    Humanity nods and pulls out a piece of paper, and a pen. He writes something out and hands it to the stewardess.

    Humanity:
    Give this to your husband.

    The stewardess nods and then heads off. An hour and a half passes as Humanity reads his book and Syn watches his movie, and he sees them collecting trash from the people and requesting them to put their tray tables back up. Syn looks out the window as he can see they're close enough to the ground to see roofs and pools.

    Syn:
    Guess we're almost there.

    Syn powers off his tablet and puts it away. Syn watches out the window as the airport is seen and the plane begins it's descent.

    Syn:
    This is always my favorite part.

    Pilot:
    Welcome to Indianapolis we've arrived 15 minutes earlier so those of you with connecting flights should have no problem. Thank you for flying Jet Blue.

    Moments later the plane lands down and pulls into the gate Syn grabs his bags from under the seat and in the luggage racks above and begins to make his way out once again waiting on Humanity. Humanity steps out a few moments later, carrying his bags.

    Humanity:
    Indianapolis. The place where we are meant to fight our opponents. The "ultimate" test. Just like our flight, we'll come and finish the job early. Like a snake, we'll strike our victims when they least expect it. I hope they have as much fun as we'll have...



    Fans

    Syn and Humanity are standing outside of the arena where tonight they will face off against "Rockstar" Randy Ramon and Ayla El otherwise known as "RevELution." They sit down and greet the crowd around them.

    Syn:
    Hey everyone we're glad to be here today to sign some autographs and meet you great people before tonight when we strip the belts right off RevELution's waists. Feel free to come up and get an autograph and ask a question if you got one.

    Humanity:
    Any question. Even if it involves how we will destroy the pernicious pair of jesters!

    Syn:
    Alright go ahead and step up.

    Syn waits for the first person to step up and Syn looks to Humanity.

    Syn:
    How was your Christmas? What did Celestia get?

    Humanity smiles and turns to Syn, his eyes gleaming with pride, but also a little wet.
    Humanity:
    Christmas was perfect. Celestia may have been saddened to see that I lost, but hey, the only thing she wanted... was to be with Daddy on Christmas. She got that... it makes me proud... However, it was also... the first Christmas without my mother. The cancer and all that...

    Humanity wipes a small tear from his eyes, as he motions forward the fans. Syn pats his shoulders for encouragement. He smiles and looks up. The first person walks up with a Movement shirt placing it on the booth Syn pulls out his gold sharpie and signs Syn on it and hands the shirt over to Humanity to affix his signature.

    Fan:
    Hey guys if you don't mind, I'd like to ask Syn a question.

    Syn:
    Go ahead brother.

    Fan:
    Who in FWA's roster would you like a feud with?

    Syn:
    Well other than going a few more rounds with Randy Ramon I'd like to try my hand at a feud with Rondo or even Garcia and finally put to rest who the real monster is. I know when I team with Humanity here he doesn't want to see the monster come out because I'm a lot harder to handle and I become a loose cannon but believe me the monster inside me is still alive. Humanity pats him on the shoulder.

    Humanity:
    You can throw Ghost, Rondo, or PAJ at me, and I'll beat 'em all.

    Humanity finishes signing and hands it to the ecstatic fan.

    Fan:
    Thanks guys! Humanity, if you guys lose tonight, what's the future hold for the Movement?

    Humanity looks at Syn, then back to the fan and chuckles

    Humanity:
    Simple, we won't lose. Randy and Ayla have ridden the post for too long now. It's time to end their little fairy tale run as "champions". IF, and that's a big if, we lose, I'm afraid that it just won't go quietly. Randy and Ayla definitely have not finished us off, nor will they tonight.

    The fan gets his autographs and walks off. Syn notices the arena opening and the line thinning down with just a few left.

    Fan #2:
    What's next for The Movement?

    Syn:
    I'll let Humanity tackle that question first.

    Humanity:
    Next? There's a possibility that many teams will be wanting a piece of us, and we're welcome to the challenge.

    Humanity looks at Syn and nods to Syn to let him know it's his turn.

    Syn:
    Alright bro what's next? After I beat Ramon to a bloody pulp in going to walk into CWA as Tag-Team Champions and show them off, and piss off a lot of people in the process!

    Syn looks out into the crowd, and looks for the time. It's almost show time.

    Syn:
    Time for one more

    The last fan comes up, a beautiful woman. She asks both men, in a flirtatious manner...

    Woman:
    Are either of you boys seeing anyone?

    Humanity smiles sincerely, and shrugs.

    Humanity:
    I'm married believe it or not. But I'm sure Randy Ramon would LOVE to put his Applesauce in you.

    There's laughter all around, and the woman plays along, sheepishly. Syn suddenly chimes in.


    Syn:
    I'm single, but I don't go for ring rats. Better luck next time ya skank!

    Everyone but the lady and Humanity laughs. The woman, insulted and derided, walks off quickly, very angered. Humanity can't help but sigh and shake his head at Syn. He only reacts by shrugging dismissively. Humanity raises an eyebrow at Syn, then looks back at the fans.

    Humanity:
    Ahem... looking back, I never thought I would gain a following like this, y'know? I was 18 when I started wrestling. It's been 10 long years since then. I'm a grizzled veteran of the ring, and so is Syn. We've have our fair share of bloody battles, broken bones, and more than just a few tears. This may be a big night, not just for us, but for you: The fans. Tonight, Syn and I will prove we mean business. Sadly, if it means taking out Randy Ramon and Ayla El... then so be it. The Movement stops for no one. Not the Jester, not the Beauty, and not the Champs. The Movement, is the future.

  12. #12
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    The walls of the room were white and several machines were beeping and were placed around the bed. There was a light blue curtain that was pulled around the bed so that nobody could see what was going on. Hearing some moaning and not in the Gabrielle, sexual kind of way, we are located in a hospital room and the woman who lies in the hospital bed is giving birth and looks to be in a great deal of pain. Standing in the corner of the room watching everything that is going on, our current reigning and defending North American Champion, Drew Stevenson has his hands lowered down in front of himself while clasped together as he simply watches everything as it is quite the beautiful scene, or that's what it is supposed to be anyway.

    Drew,
    "You know, as I stand here right now in this hospital room. I look out at a woman who is giving birth, something that is supposed to be the most beautiful thing that this world could ever see. I mean, what is more beautiful than a child being brought into this world?"

    Grinning very devilishly, he tilts his head to the left just a few inches while continuing to speak.

    Drew,
    "No before you say it James, I promise you that everything that I am saying right now has a point, I'm not speaking just to hear myself talk. You see James; you are a lot like the situation in that you have not been real relevant around here in a very long time. The name James Hughes has not been a name that people have looked at and said "yeah, that guy is the best" in a very long time here in the FWA and let me ask you a question; what makes you think that this time is any different?"

    With the smile fading across his face, he no-shows a very different demeanor, one that is much more serious than a simple smile that he was expressing.

    Drew,
    "Sure, you earned your way of getting a shot at me and MY North American Championship but what makes you think that you can get the job done when nobody else has been able to?"

    While standing in the corner of the room still, he pauses as if to give James time to actually think about his question. Breaking the silence in the room, or more in his head rather, he continues to speak as he still has much to say regarding James and their upcoming match for his North American Championship.

    Drew,
    "Big names have fallen to me James, one of them being Chris Kennedy, a man who took this company by storm, a man who had this company by the balls for a very long time and a man who not a soul could beat for a very long time. But do you know what happened James? Not only did I beat Chris, I ended his career just like I said I was going to. All poor Chris wanted was to become the North American Champion and to become a grand slam winner here before cancer decided to remove him from the equation but as we are standing here right now James, you can see that I had other plans, hell, you could even say that I am much more deadly than what cancer is."

    Once again allowing that devilish grin to creep up along his face, he brings his hands up still clasped together and has that devil’s advocate look going on right now.

    Drew,
    "Now James, you and I both know that you are good because if you weren't then you wouldn't be here nor would you be going for my title. What you need to realize however is that being "good" is not enough to beat me because there have been so many before you who have been good and even some who have been "great" but as we are standing here right now James; I am still the FWA North American Champion which means that they were not good enough. Quite frankly James, you are not good enough to beat me and to take that title off of me as well but we ran in to quite a dilemma when I kept running through so many contenders that this company has seemingly run out of people to feed me. With that being said, here we are to you James, the next man in line to step into that ring against me..."

    With that devilish grin stretching along his face even wider, he continues to speak without missing a single beat.

    Drew,
    "... And also the next man in line to be nothing more than fodder for me. You see James, I have been and I am on a level that very few have ever reached in this company. It is no secret that *I* should have already gotten my shot at Gabrielle and her World Championship a long time ago but the powers that be have for some reason never seen it that way so instead, here I am standing across from you James. Here I am putting my North American Championship on the line and here I am getting ready to put you down, just like I have everyone else and just like I will continue to do should they step into that ring trying to take away what is MINE!"

    Separating his hands, he pointed down at the white tiled floor while raising his voice as you can hear such passion in his voice as he speaks with conviction.

    Drew,
    "You need to face the facts James and those facts are that you are expendable. Anybody can fill your place, anybody can step into that ring against me but nobody and I do mean NOBODY can step into that ring against me and take away what I have made MINE and that is the FWA North American Championship; a championship that has become so much bigger and so much more prestigious since it has been in my hands."

    Placing his hands behind his back, he removes his weight from off of the wall and slowly begins to walk around the room. With the woman still moaning in the background, it is almost as if everything is in slow motion except for Stevenson who continues to speak.

    Drew,
    "Do you understand just how big that the North American Championship has become? Many would argue that it is even bigger than the World Championship at this point in time and that is because they can always find contenders for Gabrielle but I have put this company in such a position James that they are having problems finding people to challenge me. Oh yeah, if you don't believe it, then go ask them. Go to the front office right now and ask them if it's true because when you do? You will see them lower their heads in disappointment because they know that everything that I say is the honest to God truth. They know that I have them by the balls and that there is nothing that they can do to stop me because love me or hate me? I am truly the best thing going in this company and if that wasn't true then I wouldn't be rated as the best North American Champion that this company has EVER seen."

    Still smiling, the arrogance that oozed from every pore could easily be heard in the tone of his voice. Stopping on a dime, he turned away from the camera and over to the woman who is giving birth. Just looking at her momentarily, he continues to speak.

    Drew,
    "Let me ask you a question James, what are you going to do should you actually be the man to finally knock me off of my pedestal? I mean, you have some VERY big shoes to fill and whether you want to hear it or not - you are going to have everybody comparing you to me at all times. See, I don't think you understand the pressures of what it is like to be the North American Champion in this modern day and that is because while everybody still thinks that the "Golden age" of this company was the best? The only thing golden about it is that I would piss on every single one of them and their legacies if they were still here today and trying to take away what is mine. Now of course you don't get that and that is because you are not in the same position that I am James, you are not looked at as the best and hell; whether you like it or not, you're always going to be in my shadow should you manage to become the new North American Champion and that is because the people always compare what is inferior to what is the best, that is simply how it has always been and how it always will be."

    As everything seems to go back into regular motion, we see that the woman gives birth and then passes out. Taking the scissors, Stevenson walks over to where the doctor is and cuts the umbilical cord as he is then handed the baby. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he holds the baby very gently while looking down at his beautiful, innocent face.

    Drew,
    "You know, as I sit here looking down at this innocent babies face? It reminds me of you James. This baby was brought into this world not by his own doing but because he was forced into the world whether he wanted to be or not. That's kind of the same situation, isn't it James? Here you are, stepping into my world and not because you wanted to but because you were forced to. I mean, you and this baby share a lot of bonds and that is because while this baby was just brought into the world; here you are trying to be reborn in the FWA and of course, your fate rests in the palm of my hand James."

    Holding the baby with one arm, he brings his hand out to the camera so where everybody can see the palm of his hand. Looking up at the camera, he nods his head up and down very slowly as he knows that everything that he is saying right now is the truth. Looking back down at the baby, he holds and caresses the child to make sure that he is okay and healthy.

    Drew,
    "I normally want every baby to grow up and be successful. I normally want to see every child become something more and something greater than what their parents were but there's a big difference James. That difference is the fact that you are trying to become something more while on my time. You are trying to use me as a steppingstone to becoming something greater and let's face it James, if you somehow managed to walk out as the new North American Champion - then there's no denying that you would be highly recognized and quite possibly considered at the top of your game, something that you have not been looked at or perceived as in a very long time. I know that bothers you James, I know that you want to be the best, I know that you want to put me down right here and now to become the North American Champion but what you fail to realize and it's not your fault James, you were forced into this situation and are try to be reborn, but what you don't understand is that your entire fate and career rests with me. I have every say in what happens to you and don't worry, it's not going to be a Trial by Fire like how I gave Mac once upon a time because unfortunately for you James; the only option that I have is to end you before you can ever get the opportunity at trying to take away what is mine."

    Getting up to his feet while still holding the baby, he walks over to the side of the bed and grabs a light blue pillow. Holding the baby in one arm, he places the pillow over the babies face and begins to smother the baby to death. Hearing Stevenson's voice sounding muffled now, it was from the perspective of the baby that we were getting as we could hear him but not see anything but darkness.

    Drew,
    "I'm sorry James but I was left no choice but to defend myself. You can thank whatever God it is that you believe in for this because had they not forced you into my world? You would still be here today. I know that you wanted nothing more than to be reborn, then to show the world just what you were capable of but that simply could not happen. If there's one thing that I could teach you though, it would be this and I want you to remember it for all eternity..."

    Pausing only momentarily, the silence was done broken at Stevenson's deep voice could be heard once again but still muffled due to the fact that a pillow is positioned over the babies face causing him to smother and suffocate.

    Drew,
    "... Life is uncertain but death is inevitable!"

    No longer being heard or seen, we can hear a small heartbeat as it goes from beating to no more.

    Fade.

  13. #13
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    The scene opens. We see Phillip A. Jackson close up wearing N.E.O gear, black t-shirt with N.E.O wrestling glove, Jackson has a smile on his face. Jackson stands on a set that is half his old locker room, decadently decorated with pictures of success and his title belts everywhere, and his new locker room, modestly decorated with plain white walls with a picture of Jack of Diamonds on a dartboard. Jackson stands in the middle of the room and looks both left and right at the two merged locker rooms.


    Phillip A. Jackson: I am gonna be honest, this is obviously constructed but this is to make a point. It shows where I was at Trial By Fire last year to where I am now. One year ago I was arrogant and loyal to a traitor. Now I am happy. I am finding joy in being something different. I have changed and so has the landscape of the FWA. I am still finding what works for me right now and it is an ongoing process but I feel good. Anyway, there is an old saying, opposites attract, and that phrase applies to Ryan Rondo and I. For the past year we have been on a path where both of our careers have depended on each other. We have been team-mates fighting for the bad guys, rivals competing for the FWA Undisputed Title and then once again team-mates…no…friends fighting for what is right. People will always talk about Devin Golden and Ryan Rondo’s careers being interlinked but Rondo and I rose to greatness together. Ryan was the FWA home-grown kid, and then the guy who flirted with greatness for years and I started here and found greatness elsewhere before finally giving FWA a chance and showed the world why I was so good elsewhere. Together we broke the glass ceiling and opened the floodgates for the new era to rise. Whether we were friends or foes because we made people stand up and take notice of a new breed of FWA Wrestler and not the same names that used to dominant every card. No disrespect to them but it was time for us to shine. Then a guy like Jack of Diamonds comes back after seven years in purgatory decides that now is the time to return to FWA. He EXPECTS a world title shot the minute he returns. This is not the FWA you know. This is the FWA that is created by the new faces of FWA. Not some washed up wrestler who waltzes back into FWA. Look at Gabrielle. She is the champion and who does she get when you have a title shot? Shannon O’Neal. You might have belief in your own ability but you have done nothing to impress FWA. I made FWA stand up and take notice. Ryan Rondo made FWA stand up and take notice. Everyone has seen me wrestle but you upped the stakes and now you don’t get to see me wrestle. You get to see me fight. You get to see Ryan Rondo fight. For all our jokes, for all of our ability we can put it aside for one night to fight. Make no mistake Jack. I might not be the bad guy anymore but you will not see the good guy tonight. I want to hurt you. You have disrespected the NEO.


    Jackson shakes his head at the disrespect. Jackson then smiles and then looks back at the camera. Jackson has a wry smile on his face as he continues.


    Now, I can take the punches if you attack me but to have the ignorance to attack the hottest new team in the FWA then not only are you ignorant you are downright stupid. Pissing off one of us is bad for your health but pissing off both of us? You have sinned in a past life to have that happen. You have made your bed and now you get to sleep in it. You attacked Rondo because you wanted me? You were too scared to face me but if you wanted me in the ring all you had to do was come out and ask. I am sick of guys like you who refuse to get their hands dirty. You don’t get to the top with clean hands. Trust me. I have taken out my fair share and it was because I respected my colleagues enough to make sure I was the one that pulled the trigger.


    Jackson imitates pulling the trigger of the gun as he points it down the camera.

    All I have ever wanted since I came back was the respect I felt I earned. People laughed then people cried but I got it. By hook or crook. I got it, but you missed all of that while you were doing whatever you were doing for seven years. While you were gone I built a legacy and then I built friendship and you took a shot at me through my friend. That is the biggest act of disrespect I have had since I have been in FWA. That is why you didn’t just draw my ire. You drew the ire of The NEO. What did you expect? That I would just let Ryan sit on the sidelines while I kicked your ass? Why shouldn’t we share the fun? That is what friends are for but you wouldn’t know that? Would you? You are so disliked that you couldn’t find ONE wrestler on the roster who would be willing to stand at your side. So who were you left with? Your bodyguard. You have to pay to get a team-mate. One of your employees has to team with you. I hope he is ready for the fight because this is not the learner’s pool. This is the deep end. This is two of FWA’s finest and the only way you would be fine would be if you were wine because you sat on the shelf for so long. This isn’t some fantasy where you can sit out and then come back like nothing has happened. THIS is reality. THIS is FWA. The FWA created in our image.


    That might sound arrogant like the Phillip A. of old but trust me. I am not about that anymore. I am known for keeping a cool head, Jack but Trial By Fire. You will meet my fire. The fire that FWA has not seen for a long time. Back when I was just a pissed off kid trying to kill Sean Moore. Trying to make a point. I am not gonna try and be clever anymore and now is the perfect time for the OLD Phillip A. Jackson to return. No more weird concepts. No more weird references. Just straight up balls to the wall, uncensored action that FWA loved me for. You bought me back, Jack. I don’t want to be complicated anymore and The NEO is simple and that is why The NEO is great. We wear suits, we crack jokes, we kick ass. We don’t need to be anything more than that because we are good enough to make up anything that falls short. That was our vision. We may have a brother on the sidelines but I know Jason will be cheering us on because he was the one who wanted this. This was Jason’s vision and now Rondo and I must ensure that we do not screw this up. We had all the motivation already but you have piled on top it. You have jumped from being irrelevant to being our number one goal. We don’t just want to beat you, Jack. I want you to suffer. Rondo wants you to suffer. You have attacked us one time too many and when you run like the little bitch you are you will watch as we destroy your bodyguard. I will pull no punches. I will leave it all in the ring and I will do ANYTHING to ensure victory. I don’t care if I have to take punishment. You have to take the small hit for the big win. I expect it because you will cheapshot me with no rules. You will make us work for it but it will make it so much better of us. In the end though we will fight until you kill us and Rondo and I know that you are running scared as soon as it falls apart. A brave man doesn’t have a bodyguard. A brave man attacks the man he wants to fight not his friends. A brave man will stand next to another and you will see why The NEO are legit and you will get a dose of the new era the engulfed the FWA while you were pissing away your life outside the walls.


    The camera zooms in on Jackson’s eyes and there is fire in his eyes. A fire we haven’t seen in months. His eyes are watering with rage and fire. Jackson smirks and stares down the camera with anger in his eyes and fire in his belly.


    I am ready. Ryan is ready. Are you? Because I will bring fire to the fight. I will personally make sure you get what you wanted. You want fight? I will give you a fucking fight you piece of shit. I don’t swear a lot, if ever, so make sure you understand what you have unleashed. Make sure you just listened to my words. Listen close, Jack because I am now deadly serious. I am back. I will never play stupid games or try to be clever and you bought something out of me that changed me back and because of that you will wish you never attacked Ryan Rondo and you will never forget the night that you drew the attention of The N.E.O. That you will forever remember as your worst nightmare…


    Jackson taunts with his arms out and a sadistic smile on his face. Jackson starts to laugh and looks straight down the camera ready for Trial By Fire looking like he has found the right mix.

  14. #14
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    Scene is rolling as the sun has set darkness rules over the sky. Wet snowflakes fall from the sky. Snow has piled up as the streets are slick. Motorists are not driving that well on the road. The lamp post glow with lights on the street. The camera crew are driving down the street at a sluggish pace with there being so much snow on the road. They are hitting red lat each traffic light. There are people gingerly walking down the sidewalks so they do not slip and fall. The shops and cafes down the street glow with light as the camera crew in the car observer. The continue driving until they hit a no thru road sign signaling that they are coming to a dead end. The continue driving and then they stop in front of an abandoned mental hospital. The former mental hospital is surrounded by twelve feet steel chain link fence around the perimeter. On The fence is a sign that says ’Private Property. No Trespassing.’ The camera walk until they find part of the chain link fence has been cut open enough for anyone to pass through. But also at the same time it doesn’t look like it’s been cut from a distance. The camera crew walks up to the door of the abandoned mental hospital and pushes down on the latch for the door. It is unlocked. The door swings open there is no signs of life besides many rats scurrying on the floor. The check in off office is intact as they walk up to the door that keeps the insane inside. The camera crew opens the door. The door is unlocked as they walk up and see a boarded up section of the hallway. The camera crew then walk down just before the boarded section of the hallway. They turn left and walk up a flight of stairs. They exit the stairwell and walk down the hallway. There they see a padded room and they open it up. There is a straight jacket laying there. However on the other side of a door is a paper pinned to the door. It is written in red ink.


    Frozen Inside
    December 1st, 2014

    It is over and there is nothing left but memories. The end of an era has occurred. He is gone but not truly as he is now in retirement. Yes I had his last battle but something is missing from within. I feel a sense of satisfaction yet something is missing. Maybe the feeling of a loss of a great opponent he will never face again has set in. Especially given how many times both have gone to war against and together. Who is there left to fight on that level? Arrogance is not speaking even if it was it is being ignored. I maybe at a loss of words right now as what is the next move. Yes I could chase to become World Heavyweight Champion for a Fifth time. Or I could extinguish the perception that I am past my date. I am far from passing my date. It is proven as Gabrielle was the victor but she could not stand on her two feet. I am still lethal but if they get past the win and loss and truly see the pain I inflict in each match. They would be stunned. This isn’t like a hockey or football match where there is a clear cut winner. There is always a price to be paid. I have paid for my mine with my humanity being gone. I have the blood of the innocent on my hands yet I feel nothing. No sympathy or anything but a sickening enjoyment. I am frozen on the inside. No wonder I am so damn cold hearted monster.

    • The camera crew walk out of the room and continue to walk down the hallway. They pass many padded cells for the insane. They come across a shrink’s office. The doctor’s name has been scratched off the door. The camera crew slowly opens the door. There is an empty book shelf. There is a patients’ chair. There is a desk there with a clipboard own with paper attached to it with no written on it. There is a single candle light from a candle in a candle stand. There is a large rotating chair facing backwards. The chair then slowly rotates around. He is wearing white washed blue jeans with a rip in the left knee. He is wearing black leather jacket unzipped with no shirt underneath. He has a long thick beard with long brown hair. With his light blue eye and pure white eye he stares at the camera. It is none other than Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair. Stu has a cold demeanor before he even says a word. He begins speaking in all too familiar tone of voice.


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: One month has passed since an end of an era when I faced Ashley O’Ryan in his retirement match. I wondered what my next move would be. I wrote my thoughts in a journal entry. Should I climb back up and go on and get another shot for the FWA Undisputed World Heavyweight Title. Or should I extinguish the ongoing belief I washed up and my best days have passed me by. However before I could choose what was next...it came to me via fireball. [*Stu closes his eyes for a moment as he pauses. He then slowly opens his eyes moments later*] I remember walking up the ramp way and just about to head tot eh curtain on the stage. The lights went out and then I was shot by a fireball. I couldn’t get a clear look on his face. All I saw was a sickening grin from a twisted soul. Then I couldn’t see. My eyes were burned as I felt agonizing pain not since six years ago I felt. [*Stu pauses as he shuts his eyes for a moment. He slowly opens them as he continues talking*] It was a flashback when Jenny Ignite threw a fireball at Ashley O’Ryan but missed and hit me instead. It hit me directly both into my eyes. I couldn’t see and all I knew was my FWA World Heavyweight title was on the line. In a Three Way Dance against Ashley O’Ryan and ‘The Angel of Death’ Wolf.


    • Stu pauses yet again as he closes his eyes and shakes his head for a moment.


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: I couldn’t see and not too long after I heard a bell rung and the winner being announced as Ashley O’Ryan. I knew it was I who wasn’t pinned and all I heard was maybe a whisper of the last bit of love Jenny Ignite had was saying sorry. I couldn’t see for a period of time and when I finally could see. I saw my eyes were scared by fire. One of my blue eyes became light blue while the other went pure white yet I could still see. [* Stu cringes as he pauses for a moment*] All Ryan Hall did that night was bring back memories of six years ago. He didn’t sacrifice me as I am still standing here with my eyesight still intact. All Ryan did was make a statement that he was back. He is different now. The man I knew was never crazy but he was calculated. It was no accident or fluke he won the FWA World Heavyweight Title Four times. Hall thought he could do away with me that night and he would take my spot. He was dead wrong. [*Stu closes his eyes as he remembers while talking*] From the sickening grin I knew he would target more victims to feed that psychosis going on in his head.


    • Stu opens his eyes and cringes his face before speaking.


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Oddly enough he targets a man I burned six years prior. Baphomet was trying to heroic but the phrase evil prevails when good men fail to act comes to mind. He was trying to do the right thing six years ago. However when dealing with me the phrase evil prevails when good men fail to act doesn’t hold up. What they ought to say is, "Evil prevails. I made him choose for me who would set on fire. It was him or the b**** that damn near blinded me. He choose himself. The smell of gasoline was strong but was over powdered with the smell of burning flesh. [*Stu closes his eyes and pauses for a moment then opens his eyes*] I wasn’t trying to right a wrong I did six years ago to Baphomet from saving him from Hall. I know it can be viewed that way but I doubt Baphomet forgives or forgets that moment from six years ago. I believe he thinks I was there for Hall and; him being saved was just an added bonus. Regardless this is a long time coming. If you look back in two thousand and eight which is seven years ago Ryan Hall took me under his wing in The Unholy Uprising. I tasted more than team success. I became FWA North American Champion. My tactics were sharpened and The Unholy Uprising took over FWA. No one could touch us. You crumbled. You got caught off guard by Faheem Fate and he took The FWA World Title from you. You got it back but that night you lost the title went down in infamy.


    • Stu glares at the camera as he clenches his right first several times as he goes silent.



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: When the brand split occurred you were on Fight Night and I was on Crossfire. I was set as I had gotten a shot at The FWA World Heavyweight title at Mile High. However you were on the same brand as…my girlfriend Jenny Ignite. You two have gotten close and romance was born. I was the last to know. Whatever feelings I had that I could even feel love was gone. Also with that being said Jenny would be the one who would have a piece of my heart if I had one back then. Romance died for me seven years ago. Before I could confront you about it when I heard it you were gone. Time passed and two years ago you reached out to a select few to stand against Chris Kennedy and his ilk. [*Stu pauses as he slowly exhales that just about makes the candle go out. He slowly speaks as he hesitates*] I choose to look the other way for the task at hand. I knew if you backstabbed me then I could get my justice. [*Stu grins as he pauses*] I got my justice and a bit more as you turned your back on FWA when you joined CWA while holding the FWA Undisputed World Heavyweight title. My brother tried to put you down and it didn’t work. That means something [*At that very moment Stu smashes his right hand on the desk while talking*] when even the Angel of Death couldn’t put you down.


    • Stu pauses as he smirks for a moment before continuing to talk


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Funny how that’s a reoccurring theme for yourself? Hell it’s a reoccurring theme for me as well. Nobody can really put us out of our misery. You disappeared after you lost your grail and wasn’t seen or heard from in some time. No one thought you would have gotten mentally ill. To the point that you were committed to a mental hospital. A sinister haze came over your humanity and your sanity. Whatever your humanity was trying to tell you became nothing more than whisper. I could imagine doctors gave you pills to control your ‘sickness’ but you never took them. You never did swallow them. It must have puzzled them so they put you in isolation I am guessing. It seemed to be a fix as they brought you meals thinking isolation was the key. Or at least a way to figure out a way to fix your sickness Hall. [*Stu pauses a sick smile slips over his face*] At this point I figure you were in control. You acted sane enough to finally get a pen and later access to watch television. You saw people who weren’t there. You were in full breakdown mode.


    • Stu pauses then chuckles unpleasantly then his face goes serious



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Then you saw me on television and then I became your target. I can imagine it would be being so sadistic yet I was free and you weren’t that set off your plan to leave the mental hospital. I heard stories that they refused to let you leave and even came close to assaulting a doctor just to escape. She found you room and my name was carved with pen multiple times in the middle. I was your focus. Everyone thought when you came out there you were gunning for Stevenson or Gabrielle. As you did take them briefly under you wing suggesting they be a tag team. I didn’t expect to be the victim of your attack with the fireball. I thought you knew better then to play with a snake but you had a plan. You went with it. Back to back years you have burned me with fire. Me being burned by the fireball and you setting my back on fire at Trial by Fire. I am a monster after all I can imagine you took great pleasure in hearing the man who inflicts pain and enjoys it. To be the one in agonizing pain moaning as his flesh is burned by the fire. [* Stu pauses a she smirks*] You didn’t feel pleasure but pure satisfaction went you saw and heard me in agony with my back burning my flesh. You burned the snake and believed nobody could touch you. My brother couldn’t do it. Even though I hate her guts Gabrielle couldn’t get it done.



    • Stu shakes his head back and forth as he pauses



    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Your confidence was at an all time high. Higher then you were against Sean Kelleher, G-Rich and even Dan Sinclair. I have news to you Ryan. I know I am your biggest disappointment. I achieved more in two years then you when FWA started. I tasted success and not mention I was infamous for being the most sadistic, unforgiving person in FWA. I was even a human cancer if you would. My reputation got bigger than you expected. I do owe some credit to you. You did show me a couple tricks to be your greatest disappointment. If you think you can get away for third time playing with a snake and not getting bit. You are sadly mistaken despite what your ‘dark passengers’ keep telling you. Do not let your ignorance and ambition blind you Ryan. You could be the one being burned. [* A smirk comes across Stu’s face*] But hey I’ll let you play by your rules and your delusions and see how they work out for you. I am master tactician and I always have an ace up myself Ryan. But I know you have an ace up your sleeve as well. This will very difficult match up. I faced the courageous like the likes of Shawn Cortez, Gabrielle to the most sadistic like Wolf, Jack Severino and the fearless like Ashley O’Ryan and Devin Golden. This will be no walk in the park.


    • Stu pauses and he closes his eyes and stares at his feet for a moment. He looks up and stands to his feet. He picks up the clipboard and throws to the side.


    Stu ‘The Snake’ St.Clair: Nobody can predict the outcome of this match. We are both considered insane. The betting pool for this match in Vegas will have no love for us as no one can figure out will come out on top. One thing is for certain this will be something that people will be talking for a long time. However I am THE LIVING KHMER ROUGE AND VICTORY I THE ONLY OPTION FOR ME! You burned me twice Ryan and now it’s my turn to sink my fangs into you and watch you suffer while hearing you in agony. Hell I might even try to burn you just to ‘even the score.’ You better hope I am the better man if you want to even call me that because I am your worst nightmare. Those will not be disillusion you are seeing Hall but rather the nightmares I have weaved right in front of you. Leaving you no place to run or go. Face your nightmare and see if you can survive…if I let you.


    • Stu spreads his arms to the side as a sickening cold look comes over his face. Camera keep rolling as the candle suddenly goes as the footage cuts out.



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

  15. #15
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    The FWA Camera starts up and all that is heard is the sound of a harmonica playing. The FWA Cameraman shakingly brings his camera up and focuses on Vincent as he plays the harmonica behinds the bars of a prison cell along with a couple of inmates whom are wearing shirts around their heads to disguise their identities.

    Ah, welcome to Corcoran State Prison in Corcoran, California. Since me and Garcia are going to compete in a Prison Yard Match.

    The inmates that are with Vincent laugh at that statement, before falling silent after Vincent looks in their direction.

    I figured that we would take a short break from this week's episode of “Off The Record” so that I can address Garcia directly, in somewhat familiar surroundings. Because you see, while Garcia may not have served time in this specific prison, he did still serve time behind bars during his hiatus from the FWA. It's no secret that Garcia has problems with people that are currently in the positions of authority. He didn't respect me, he doesn't respect G-Rich and he certainly doesn't respect the Board of Directors. Which is unfortunate because, one would think that during his stay in prison, he would've learned that he has to respect people in the position of authority.

    Vincent looks over at both of the inmates in the cell, before giving them a short nod.

    And no, I'm not referring to the prison guards or the arresting officers that arrested him or even the judicial system that sentenced him to prison. No, the people, the very people in positions of authority that I'm referring to, that Garcia should have had respect for, is the actual people that run not just Corcoran or the prison that Garcia was locked up in, but every prison in every country on this planet. His fellow inmates.

    Vincent walks towards the cell door, a buzz sounds, and the door opens causing the FWA Cameraman to get even more nervous, worried about the two inmates leaving the cell. All that is heard is a “huh” coming from behind the camera causing Vincent to stop just outside of the cell door, as it closes behind him.

    Ah, you thought that those two were going to rush the open door and attack you.

    The camera simply nods causing Vincent and the two inmates to laugh.

    See, that is exactly what I'm talking about. I respect them and the rest of the true prison authority. In return, they behave like Vincent looks over his shoulder towards the two inmates civilized humans. Vincent smirks at that statement as the two inmates along with the rest of the inmates on this floor all laugh at being referred to as “civilized humans”. Walk with me, as we head to one of the prison yards here at Corcoran.

    Vincent and the FWA Cameraman walk down the long hallway past several cell doors, heading to one of the prison guards that stand watch on this floor. The prison guard nods, and the familiar buzz sounds allowing the prison guard to open the door allowing Vincent and the FWA Cameraman to leave this area of the building. The FWA Cameraman follows Vincent outside and into the relatively open prison yard where several groups of inmates are seen clustered in various areas of the prison yard and several prison guards are .

    Here, it is just like high school and life in general. There are clicks and gangs and whatnot all over this and every prison. You see various Latino, African-American, Biker, Neo-Nazi, etc groups. Hell, even the infamous Charles Manson in in this prison here, and even though you, the FWA Universe can't feel it, but here the atmosphere is very tense because one lone spark and we can have fights break out. Oh and look, over at those exercise equipment.

    The FWA Cameraman aims his camera towards the exercise equipment that Vincent is pointing at and we see several members of the Vultures working out and protecting each other and their boss, Trace. The FWA Cameraman gets startled when he realizes Vincent is making his way towards where Trace and the Vultures are at as several of the inmates in the yard part like a reenactment of Moses and the Israelites Crossing of the Red Sea. The FWA Cameraman nervously follows behind Vincent worried about a fight breaking out, looks towards the guard towers and sees that the prison guards and readying their weapons also worried about a potential fight.

    Well, well, well, if it isn't Judas himself, Trace.

    Trace motions for the Vultures to stand down as he stands up and faces Vincent.

    I heard through the grapevine that you helped Mr. Warren.

    ”Grapevine”.... So, that's what you've decided to nickname Amber. That's not very nice.

    That's not wha...

    Vincent moves closer to Trace as the camera starts to shake due to the FWA Cameraman's nervousness while the Vultures stand up and move to intercept Vincent only for Trace to stop them. Before Trace could say anything else, Vincent simply steps in front of Trace then takes off his sunglasses before opening his eyes so Trace could see them. Trace appears startled, then closes his eyes and breathing deeply finally sighs as Vincent puts his sunglasses back on.

    Just... just wait until I finish my workout.

    Vincent looks towards the leader of one of the nearby gangs, nods then turns around and walks away. Before following, the FWA Cameraman sees the Vultures asking Trace what he meant.

    Now that that piece of business had been dealt with. Garcia, what you see in this prison yard, will be featured around the ring. From the entrance ramp to being right between the two announce tables. At Trial By Fire, while I can't predict the outcome, I can predict one thing, and that I will beat the ever-loving respect into you and force you to start respecting everyone else.

    If not, then you can guarantee that I will do everything in my power to see you straight back to prison, without passing go or collecting $200. Shit, I heard that before the day is over, there will be an opening in the Vultures, maybe upon your return to prison, you could take over as their leader. Because while you claim that your Commissionership of the X Division isn't on the line, you can bet that after Trial By Fire, your days as Commissioner will be a lot shorter then your stay in prison.

    And Garcia, you can say that you've survived your own prison sentence and gotten stronger because of it. Guess what Garcia, that means jack shit because while you were being the bitch in your prison, I was competing in career ending matches against Jethro Warren. You survived prison, in my eyes, that was a walk in the park compared to competing in First Blood Triple Threat Matches, an army of gun-wielding Vultures, TLC Inferno Match, not to mention the very deadly “Quake with Fear” Death Match in which I was literally and figuratively stab in the back.

    So Garcia you might think you're walking into this Prison Yard Match holding all the cards but the problem is, is that we aren't playing blackjack, poker, or even gold-fucking-fish. Hell, we aren't even playing a card game. No the game we are playing is a life and death chess match. So you can try to make all the rules and changes you'd like, but the fact will remain, this is my game and Anarchy will always Reign Supreme.

    Several inmates block the FWA Cameraman's path as he watches Vincent walk off into one of the Security Housing Units when all of a sudden a alarm sounds and the guards shout for everyone to get on the ground. As the FWA Cameraman gets on the ground, he unknowingly sets the camera backwards where we see Trace lying motionless on one of the exercise equipment.

    [I WIN]


  16. #16
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    R: Hello everybody my name is Ryan and I'll be taking a look at my call here at Bleacher report, for steal of the night. So as every wrestling fan knows, Trial By Fire, by FWA is just hours away, and the card is packed with something for everybody. A quick glance might lead you to believe this is event is about a champion versus champion clash, underlined by a blood feud. However taking a closer look, there is so much more. This is to take nothing away from the world champion or her opponent, but let's face facts. Neither of those titles is on the line making it all about bragging rights. Of course we all want to see a couple of big names in this business go at it in Hall and St.Clair.


    But if you ask me, the steal of the night, the hidden gem on this well stacked card, is going to be James Hughes, challenging North American champion Drew Stevenson. As a wrestling fan, how can you not be looking forward to this one. These two men have traveled different roads to get here. The champion with his list of awards and championships, this man became a household name long before his arrival in the FWA. Yet James is streaking currently in his return campaign. James found a degree of success with FWA, claiming the now retired Young Lion championship, and then going on to become one half of the tag team champions, before his full time departure for LOW, where you could say he came into his own.


    The champion has never had a problem finding success no matter what company he has been in, and brings a bit more experience to the table then his challenger. The FWA seems to now be serving as his stomping grounds, as we all have to ask, how much further Drew can climb? With anticipation we wait to see if the FWA will be yet another company brought to heel by Stevenson, who makes no qualms about winning all there is to win. He is a former FWA X-division champion, and since becoming the North American champion he has turned back challenger after challenger, but has he faced a man like James? We were able to catch up with the challenger and here's what he had to say about Drew.



    *Footage begins to play, replacing the reporter's face on the screen. James is standing there in a grey Chicago Cubs t-shirt on and blue jeans.*


    J: You would have to be blind and in denial to not know who Drew Stevenson is. He is without a doubt one of the most accomplished wrestlers in the business today. He is the North American champion, and has been great at defending the title, the past few weeks. So much so he has seemingly everybody drinking the kool aide and on the band wagon. You can make an argument that he is one of the best North American champions in the FWA. Who knows, maybe he is better than Shane McLean or Alexx. I may point out, that a man called Wolf has held that tile on two occasions.


    Yes I am very aware of who he is and what he has done to get here. I have seen him in action, and I've heard all the talk. I like many others watched his match against Kennedy. Looking at his last few title defenses and matches, he has not faced an opponent like me. I am looking forward to getting in the ring with him, he's a great competitor and I know that he presents the kind of challenge that will make me really have to step my game up.



    *The footage ends, and fades back to the reporter.*


    R: There you have it, worlds are set to collide at Trial by Fire, and my steal of the show will be the big title fight of the night, between Hughes and Stevenson, until next time….


    *Scene fades out.


    As the scene fades back in, we see James sitting on a grey metal folding chair. His ankles are wrapped in white tape. Grey grout lines separate white tiles beneath his feet, his trunks are purple with black trim and run the length of his quads resting just over the bend of his knee. The room is silent, and James is seated with his hands clasped in front of his face, the wrists of both hands are also wrapped in white tape. James has on no shirt, and as he sits there with the light on him, beads of sweat make his brown skin seem to sparkle. Without so much as lifting his head to face the camera…..*


    Drew, do you know what a perfect storm is? Other than it being a noun, it is a particularly bad or critical state of affairs, arising from a number of negative and unpredictable factors. You see, you yet to realize, even now as the moment draws near, how you got her, how this all came to be, you asked for it.


    We all heard a very confident North American champion last week, oh there was talk of opportunities and kicking open doors and closing doors. You sounded so much like a man who has it all figured out. Tell me you have seen this coming, tell me that you have secretly been waiting and preparing for this very moment. Because I can assure you I have. Oh, but that will be something I intend to show you. The list of those you have left fallen has been one of note, but that's not what this is about. It's not even about what all I went through to get here, the fact is, I'm here.


    I've seen you go from steeping on Kennedy to your, what was it, next plateau? To being beaten by the two number one contenders to the X-division title. Fact as that may be you are still the champion, still with the defense streak. Let me be clear I respect what you get done in that ring and the fact that you had what it took to win not only that title but the one you won before it.



    *Scene cuts to workout footage of James, where he is seen using various equipment, running and jogging. As it fades back into the shot James is now standing in front of the chair with his arms folded in front of him.*


    I know what it is to face the best, and I know what it is to go to war with the best. I beat APAB when they were at the best of their game, not at the end, I beat them when it meant something special. Just like it will be that much more special tonight. You see, when I was here before it was my first go at wrestling. I came in here just like so many rookies do. There were no hand outs, there were no special contract negotiations. I fought, from day one, to now, I fought. Even though I left, I kept right on fighting, you see no matter what, the fighting never stops. I understand that now in a way I didn’t then.


    Weeks ago you got in front of these cameras and pleaded for some real competition, a real challenge for your title, and even by your own words, you've yet to get it. I've been here this entire time and not even on your radar, though slowly, but steadily, I remain the front of the storm headed right your way. Week after week things moved into place for this match to happen. I'm not here to deny what you have had.


    I'm here because it is meant to be, I'm here because the fans want me here, and not just to compete, not just to give it my all. Drew don't fool yourself, everybody in the great state of Indiana wants to see me and you fight for that title. Because they already know, with out a doubt, without hesitation that they will get to look into the future of this company, they know they are going to see two of the best in this business today. Now, I'm telling you and all of them right here and right now that all of you are going to have a new North American champion. The time has once again come for me to be a champion of the people. You could careless about being the champion Drew, to you it's just a prop, and a leg up to the big one.



    *Scene cuts to James performing martial arts training, as he spares with various numbers of opponents. Scenes also show him maneuvering through a field of wooden dummies as he transitions various styles and forms. The scene fades back into him, standing by the door of the room. He quickly tilts his head left then right.*


    My only concern is right now, not last week, last month, or when you first won that tile. I am here because my path has brought me here. I am set to challenge you for your North American title, not for practice, or pride, but because I can and will win it. However I need you to understand something, after I win it, I will make sure I defend it against you first. Like the old saying goes, to be the man, you got to beat the man. That's what I am going to do hear tonight. I'm going to prove wrong those who have chosen to doubt my skills and dedication.


    This is what you want, time and time again you remind us all how you should be fighting Gabrielle for the title. The insiders are saying the same, so are the bloggers. Just think about how much easier it will be for you to chase her around once I take the North American title from you. Of course I don't expect it to be easy, I think you are going to give it your all. I think you are going to come out here and fight like you have never fought before, but I know you are going to learn an old saying to be true right here tonight. It goes like this, "No matter how good you think you are; there's always somebody out there better than you." This is the first time I have been able to challenge for a singles title in this company in quite some time, and I am going to seize this opportunity. I am going to do what you, and quite a few others think is impossible; I'm going to get my hand raised and crowned the new FWA North American champion, because the time is at hand, and I'm back, and I've come to take what I want and tonight, right here in Indianapolis, I want to take the North American title out of here. Hop on the road, drive the bus over to 65, take that north to 90, and take that on into to Chicago, where we all are going to celebrate me bringing that title home to the fans. Its gonna be a two state party, but in just a few moments. It's going to be all business out there. I came here for a purpose and with a mission I will not fail. I have to keep going forward.



    *The door to the room opens and we see Ted, wearing blue jeans and a purple shirt, with black letters across the front that read O.T.E.. James turns and follows him out into the hallway and is followed by the camera. As they enter the hallway, we hear I Ain't Wired Right, by Twista blasting through the PA system. Security guards line either side of the hallway and surround James as he makes his way from the locker room. As he steps through the curtain, the fans packed into the Indianapolis arena nearly blow the roof off of the building at the sight of the man.*

  17. #17
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    A lavish upscale apartment. Decorated with only the finest furniture and the most exquisite paintings...well except for one piece. Off in its own corner is a tattered old boxing bag, various holes and cuts are taped back up, the fabrics all worn out, the stuffing sticks out of a few un-repaired cracks. Its a ridiculous sight against such a backdrop; one with a stunning view of Indianapolis. But this old boxing bag was Alistair's first, and his only. He's had it for a decade now, sparring on it every single day. No matter how broken it became, no matter how much money he has in his bank account he has refused to throw it aside, considering it a symbol of his own drive and determination. No matter how beat up it becomes he'll never stop doing this, this very thing that goes against his entire upbringing and lifestyle. We're immediately taken away from all of that though by the shapely figure of Marianne Croft; high heels, a knee length black skirt, and a white blouse that do all they can to contain the curves of her body. With her dark brown hair in a bun she confidently approaches a leather couch where sits Alistair Williams, confidently relaxing in just a pair of black suit pants. He sits there with a smirk upon his face showing off his ripped physique and various tattoo's that never look quite right at the country clubs his family frequents. He rubs a hand to his chin, smiles at Marianne while of course checking her out while she puts a hand on her hip.

    Marianne: Mr. Alistair...its that time, the camera's are here. Their shoes were filthy so I made them take them off.

    Alistair nods his head.

    A. A. Williams:
    Thank you Anne...but have maintenance burn their shoes as well. I cant very well have their dirty joggers or whatever $10 shoe they were wearing spotted outside MY apartment.

    Marianne: Of course, I'll have them seen too.

    The camera crew apprehensively glance at one another, trying to urge each other to speak up as Marianne steps outside.

    A. A. Williams:
    You boys didn't intentionally try and track dirty foot prints all over my carpets did you? My very expensive carpets. Just think things over next time, you're guests in my home...my home. In the same way that I would ask for a cup of warm dirt at your homes so will you take proper care in mine. There are many items just in this room alone that are probably worth more than both your annual incomes combined. But I'm not here to show off how wealthy I am, I'm not here to brag about my riches. No you two are her, and everybody else is watching this because I am here to show everyone that there is more to me than the money. That life, that misery, trudging through upper scale dinner after charity function after fox hunt after wine tasting...there was no excitement, no drama, no carnage...no real need to sweat. It wasn't the life for me, not at all. You see I've always had this passion inside of me, this desire that money could never fill. It was to hurt people, but not for any pleasure in inflicting pain, no it was more than that. I wanted to step into a cage or a ring and fight. I wanted to be something else than a suit and a monocle. Here in the FWA I will become more than those things. I will see my name in different lights, in different arena's in a world that none of my family have ever occupied. No one else has ever had blood on their knuckles. No one else has ever felt the sting of a tattooists needle. No one else has ever looked like I do. I'm a break from tradition for my family, a man striving to be his own man in a different world. Of course though coming from my family I am given certain gifts. The finest wine, the loveliest women, the most expensive clothes, the best trainers...and well anything else I want really. Cars, houses, fine art. Things that make me better than the common folk, the rabble...such as my dirt drinking guests.

    Alistair smirks as Marianne re-enters the room with a sway to her hips.

    Marianne:
    Their shoes have been seen too. How can people wear such filth?

    She shakes her head and sits down next to Alistair as the camera crew again silently bicker to each other to speak up.

    A. A. Williams: But this is enough about me, while I could talk about myself for days, my audience sans Marianne don't deserve to be regaled with all my exploits. And there is one thing about all that which gets to me...for all of these things I didn't work for. I was born into privilege, born better, born into a life that everyone else dreams of...but never attains. I yearn to earn something of my own, gold around my waist, bruises on my fists and the knowledge that I am better than everyone else in life and in the ring. So I am to debut at Trial By Fire, a more grand and chaotic event there is not. Two men oppose me...well I think they are men, who knows? One could be a pile of sand and the other may be a...a...well...

    Marianne: A bird apparently, a black bird.

    A. A. Williams: Like a crow...how totally unimpressive. So I fight the sand and a bird. Well hardly the most spectacular debut then ahead of me. But this Dune character seems to like his deserts, his winds, his sands. All of that...how unique. But boy I already conquered the winds when I won the Queensbury archery competition three years in a row. You have to work with the wind to win those competitions, and that's exactly what I did. But enough about your cute little name, I want to know why you wear that mask? And why does big bird wear a mask as well? Both of you hiding your faces. Are you ugly? Poor people struggling to scrape money together for your dirt eating families? Afraid of the sun? What is it, why the masks? Or do I get one as well? Marianne darling...maybe fashion me a mask made out of money. It needs to convey how wealthy, strong and feared I am.

    Marianne: Will one hundred dollar bills suffice?

    A. A. Williams: Maybe something bigger, and make sure they're clean. Now we'll all have masks, Sandman with his little breathing apparatus, Big Bird with his little porcelain deal, and myself with something more befitting of my status but sadly no less silly. maybe under my mask I can understand the need for yours Dune. Does it mask their tears formed by your little sob story about your brother. Yes I saw that little spiel and was not impressed, nor did I feel sorry. I imagine like yours his was not an important life, he didn't impact this world in any way. So no real loss Sandman.

    Alistair smirks as Marianne seems a little taken aback...until a slight smile forms on her lips.

    A. A. Williams: Now Big Bird...the boy coming out of retirement at 24. Before inevitably going back into retirement at 24. I don't care about your mask, your past, your reasons for retiring or that Anastasia woman. I see in you nothing more than freak show clown. A nobody hiding behind porcelain. You may be a former World Champion elsewhere but not here, not in what is to become my ring. You don't even have the sands to entertain me, Sandman provided that you...are just a large black bird who thinks you can be something special. Oh if only I could remember how many birds I have struck with an arrow from my bow...far too many too recall unfortunately. But never a bird as big as you, never a Heron either. So you'll be the first there, but like all who oppose me in the ring in the future, it will not end well for you. You will feel my foot upon your jaw, as will Dune...and then I will bury Big Bird under the Sandman.

    Another wry smile before he shrugs his shoulders. At this point the camera crew are ushered from the building by Marianne and security.


  18. #18
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    It only gets harder, the more you try, the more you want it. But if it were easy, would it really be worth having? Perhaps two is my lucky number, but I would have to believe in luck. Luck is not why I am here, it's not why any of us are here. We are in Indiana because of the X-division championship. Three of us are going to get into the ring and fight for that very title. One thing is certain in the division, the time for change has come.


    For weeks now two men have fought for control over our division. Changes that have taken away what the fans come to see. Has Kaizen said anything, has Marcus? No they have resorted to a pisssing contest. For my trouble, for my standing up for the fans, what do I get? After beating two men to become the number one contender. Kaizen gets thrown into this match, what was supposed to be my title match.



    *A light comes on in the middle of the screen and we see Alana standing next to a large picture of Kaizen. She looks professional in a grey skirt with a white button shirt on and short grey business jacket to match.*


    Here we have our former X-division champion. A man who is brute strength personified, just a ball of anger who seems to over extend himself. You kept up well enough last week, this much is true. However I see a man struggling in the deep end of the pool. I almost have to shake my head in wonder at the fact you beat him for it in the first place. You are a talent, albeit a very raw talent at the most, but you lack a very vital thing in this business, focus. I'm known for keeping busy, as a matter of fact I make it look easy. Multi tasking is a breeze for me, and yet we've all heard you complaining about having to run to and fro. Do you really want the X-division title. Or is it all really just about beating Thane? Truthfully I don't even think you are sure of anything other than your hatred of him.


    As far as we are concerned, last week went just as I said it would. You managed not to cost us a win, and we won just like I said we would. You've come a long way in the FWA, and I can see you going further, in the future. I'm not even mad that you have been added to this match, its almost ironic in a way. I don't even think you regard me as a serious competitor and that's just fine as well, because I intend to leave you no choice. Even you will have to acknowledge as much when I beat you here tonight and become the new champion.



    *We hear the click and clack of her high heeled shoes as she walks away from the picture of Kaizen and next to one of Marcus, as she stands next to it, we see the picture illuminated by light from above.*


    Here we have our illustrious two time X-division champion. I'd like to ask how the view was, watching me get my hand raised last week. Just think of it as a sign of things to come. Marcus you've proven yourself not once but twice. Your fierceness in the ring is undeniable, but I will not be deterred, and this match works more against you than either Kaizen or myself. It could be him, or you. It does not matter to me, what does is taking my rightful place atop this division.


    The FWA needs a champion that will truly represent the division and fight for all of our great fans to see order restored, and to have the excitement brought back to our division. As the X-division champion, that's what I'll stand for, and tonight, that's what I am coming out there and fighting for. Marcus, I will become a beacon and a shining light in the division's current storm and I will lead us into the future. Theses are the things champions do, and stand for. You little prideful game of pass the title with Kaizen has come to a close, in spite of what either of you do to each other. Oh how you have tried to overshadow me, and yet here I am poised to take what you have and my rightful place.



    *She turns and takes a few steps past the large photo and as the light seems to follow her we see her desk as she leans against it, placing her hands on her hips.*


    There is no obstacle I can't overcome. I will not be swayed or intimidated by this match, or by these opponents. I have fought long and hard to be more than just a pretty face. To be more than a valet, more than a manager, to be more than just a woman's champion. When I get in that ring, I'll be fighting for those women that came before me, and all those that will come after. I am fighting for Gabby, Ayla, and even Shannon. I'm fighting for the X-division, not this perversion of it, but the division in its purest form and sense. I'm fighting for the little girls that win pitching a little league world series. I'm fighting for all those young ladies out there in those seats and watching at home that want me to win, that need me to win, and that love watching me fight for each and everything I get in this industry.


    I'm fighting to make history, and to be more and to do more. Nobody in the FWA has or can hold me back. The only limits before me are the ones I set for myself, and those of you who know me, know that there are none. I will achieve my goals, and there will be a new era in the X-division, and I have come back to deliver that era to all the FWA faithful. At the end of the night, when all the dust finally settles, women in the FWA will end Trial by Fire holding four of this companies five titles. So join me as we start 2015 off just right, and watch as we do our part to make this the year of the women of FWA. Ready or not, here I come!



    *Scene fades to black.*

  19. #19
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    Saturday Morning Slam Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    A light flicks on, and the room is drenched in a white light. It’s a dressing room. There are clothes on hangers, make-up on a dressing table, a wide and tall vanity mirror surrounded by light bulbs, and a chair that has a name emblazoned on it: AYLA EL. The light bulbs surrounding the vanity mirror burn brightly revealing the occupied chair. It is occupied by an elegant female. She sits poised with grace as she looks deeply into the vanity mirror. Her brown eyes burning a hole into her reflection’s gaze. She raises her hand and delicately places a finger on the cold mirror. The slight twitch of her hand gives away that the cold just sent a shock through her arm. But, oddly a sly smirk emerges on her face rather than a look of pain.


    AYLA EL
    “Cold. The mirror is cold, but what is a mirror than merely a reflection of real life. This world is a cold place. Hell, it’s freezing outside in Indianapolis right now. What did the weather man call it? Oh, that’s right: light freezing rain. It’s as if nature itself – with showers from the heavens - is trying to tell us, the simpletons that rule the world, that this life is meant to be cold. This is a fact that I already know and have embraced. My mother never cared about me, but rather what I could do for her which turned out to be not very much in her eyes. My climb to the top has always been a lonely one. It made me think of the lone man venturing to the top of Mount Everest… someone trekking through cold and unfriendly terrain to accomplish a goal that only that person can enjoy. Only a handful of people know the feeling of that accomplishment. The feeling where a fire lights up within your soul, and finally the icy exterior starts to melt away and you can finally shine brightly and proudly because you’ve done what you were made to do. You did what your instinct wanted you to do. Then you realize that even though the world is cold, you don’t have to be cold.”


    Ayla’s gaze moves from her reflection in the mirror to the FWA Tag Team Championship that is neatly placed on the dressing table. She puts her manicured hand on the title, and she gently bites her lip anxiously.


    AYLA EL
    “I realized that when I won this title. But, now there is a threat to this title and therefore a threat to my warmth. I don’t want to be cold again. I don’t want to be a mere reflection of the cruel world, but it seems that in order to secure my warmth I have to face the cold itself in Humanity. I’ve joked for weeks about the leader of The Movement being Syn, but I always knew that it was the man named Humanity. The reason that I joked about who the leader was is simple: The Movement is supposed to be terrifying to the world, but they’re not. Humanity is supposed to be the face of this scary team that’s threatened to make a big splash in the FWA, but the fact of the matter is that no one is scared of The Movement. No matter how many cryptic videos they post on FWA.COM or how many interviews they give where they intimidate generic interviewer #23, the world isn’t afraid of The Movement. Why? I mean they are following the book “Scary Tag Teams for Dummies” to the letter, so why isn’t it working? Because people are afraid of what they don’t understand.”


    A few strands of Ayla’s auburn hair falls lightly onto the smooth, black top that she’s wearing. Ayla brushes back the hair with her hand as she places her hands on her thighs that are hidden away by a pair of designer jeans. Her fingers tenderly dig into her thighs.


    AYLA EL
    “The message that Humanity constantly spews due to his eternal bout of diarrhea of the mouth is a message that the world already knows. Terrorist attacks, famine, pain, suffering, the list goes on and on. The people of the world know that the world sucks, they don’t need some guy with a bad weave and a bad attempt at a scowl on his face to come out every week and act as if he’s the only one that knows this. Which made me come to two conclusions about The Movement: 1) either Humanity is just flat-out an imbecile or 2) Humanity is the one that is scared. In a CWA/FWA.COM exclusive that no one read, and I don’t blame them, The Movement is described as “a mysterious group.” I take that as a sad attempt at sugar-coating the truth. The Movement isn’t a mysterious group. The Movement is a pathetic group that want to pretend that they’re scary and preaching old news to the world. The Movement is a mystery to themselves and that’s why they’re the ones afraid. They’re afraid themselves, and not in a cool “this would make a great movie” way, but rather afraid that they’re not good enough to make it.”


    Ayla’s red lips form a smile as she looks into the mirror again.


    AYLA EL
    “Humanity, if you truly wanted to change the world’s way of thinking so that everyone would conform to your way, you need to be strong in your beliefs. You need to be believe in yourself. But, you don’t. That’s why you constantly hide yourself behind these horrific tales that you tell every time you get a microphone or camera on you. And just to remind yourself that you’re maybe just a little bit stronger than the rest of the pathetic human race, you cling onto some worthless relic that you brought over to the FWA from the CWA. You let the horrors of the world do the scaring, but the people are already scared of that stuff. So no one is afraid of you Humanity. In fact, what the world does see is the frightened little boy that you are. When you first came to the FWA you claimed that this place was untouched by horror and darkness. There you go showing your stupid again Humanity, you better put it away before the kids laugh at you… again. FWA’s seen more horror from DIVINE than the grand total of The Movement’s actions in the CWA and FWA.”


    Ayla lets out a heavy breath, before refocusing her eyes to the tag team title.


    AYLA EL
    “You know who has really seen horror and darkness Humanity? Me. So even though the world knows all about the garbage that you’re talking about and they’re not afraid of you, I don’t even bat an eye when you’re in my face. I’ve had a horrible life and lived in a darkness that I created for myself. When we meet in that ring, and I’m extremely happy to finally get this opportunity, it’s not going to be Humanity dragging Ayla El into his darkness… no, no, no. You see, I’m ready and already out of my darkness and I don’t want to go back. However, sometimes I feel like the darkness within me is reaching out to pull someone in and I think that I’ll save that for Trial By Fire. I don’t think you’ve seen the real darkness that can inhabit someone’s soul, Humanity. I think that you substitute true darkness with sitting in the boiler room and snorting cocaine with the lights off as true darkness. At Trial By Fire, I will introduce you to my darkness.”


    Ayla’s iPhone starts to ring. It’s sitting on the dressing table next to her Dolce and Gabbana handbag. The screen lights up with a text message notification: RANDY RAMON. She looks at the phone briefly, before turning back to the mirror.


    AYLA EL
    “However, there is a certain member of The Movement that is trying his very best to ruin the best thing that has happened to my life and bring the darkness back into my life. Syn, you threaten my tag team… my partnership… my friendship with Randy Ramon. Just like Humanity is a poor man’s reflection on how awful the world is, Syn you are a reflection of how mankind tries to drag each other down into an abyss. You have haunted Randy Ramon his entire life, feigning friendship with him in his darkest moments because you knew that he had the talent to make it to the very top. Your obsession with fame and success shines so brightly through the facades that you and Humanity display. I can see through the jealous green glow that you two exude, and I see that is what you two truly want. The Movement doesn’t stand for any message, The Movement is nothing more than a wretched attempt at achieving the success in a wrestling company that you two know deep down will never happen.”


    Ayla giggles softly to herself.


    AYLA EL
    “And luckily enough for you two, Randy Ramon was in such a bad place in his life that he was willing to call Syn a friend. So, like any good friend would do, Syn hopped over from CWA to follow Randy Ramon to the FWA and then… went immediately for his title. But, and I only say this because I am also a “friend” to Syn – even though Syn would like the world to think that The Movement earned this title shot, the truth is that I asked that management give The Movement this title shot. I saw as soon as Syn arrived in the FWA how it evoked a change in Randy. I knew that Syn was an annoying parasite that I needed to cut off immediately and kill. But, like all parasites, Syn and the rest of The Movement love to hide. So I had to lure them out, and here they are. In their minds they think that FWA acknowledges their lack of talent, but in reality which is a place that The Movement clearly does not live in, this title match is my way of getting Syn out of Randy’s system. I know that it’s a risk to put the titles on the line, it’s a gigantic risk to all that I’ve gained from becoming friends with Randy. I’m willing to take that risk, if it means getting Randy on a better path again.”


    Ayla sighs with a grin on her face as she reaches for her phone.


    AYLA EL
    “You see Syn, unlike you I’m willing to make a sacrifice for my friend. I’m willing to put these titles on the line against the most embarrassing team to ever join the FWA. You know what else I’m willing to do for Randy? Beat the hell out of you and Humanity. I know that he might be hesitant, and I’m sure that’s what you’re counting on. Syn, I know that you think very little of me because I’m a woman. You think that Randy is the only threat in that match, and because of your friendship it means an easy win because you can take advantage of him. You’re dead wrong. I remember quite clearly calling you and Humanity out to face me and settle things, not once but twice and alas… you two were busy cowardly playing in the boiler room both times. So this is going to be two things for me Syn, it’s going to be fun for me to finally get my hands on you and more importantly, it’s going to be my way to help Randy. I don’t want to live in the warmth, if he’s trapped in the cold with people like The Movement."


    Ayla opens the text message and reads it to herself, then begins to type back as the scene slowly fades out.

  20. #20
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    Re: Trial By Fire promo thread

    Change

    “Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”


    Jack of Diamonds: The FWA hasn't been the same since I've returned. It was spiraling out of control and that very thing...control. Was being fought over by just about anyone capable of breathing. The man, the myth, the legend himself General Manager G-Rich was losing his grip on everything. I mean, what a rough year for the man in charge. People tried to take his life and take his job. It seemed like it was only a matter of time before...change.

    But then I came back.

    And everything did change.



    “The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind.


    JOD: The lost prince returned to his kingdom only to be cast down by liars and false prophets. In the midst of a civil war, that brash blond came back like a jolt of lightning and put a shock into FWA's system. The men and children and women who make up the FWA's audience cheered and applauded the return of their hero. Seconds turned to minutes to hours to a lifetime as they basked in his greatness. But all it took was one man, one liar, to change their perception and change the very course of the FWA.


    “Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”


    JOD: You've all heard the story a million times already. I come back, Jason Gryphon runs me down and so begins the plodding journey of Jackie versus Jason. Boring. I came back to this company to right a wrong that was spilled onto my legacy and bring this company back from the Hell it had created for itself. But as soon as I walk through the door, this weird little man starts hurling insults at me and getting everyone to change their minds about good ole Jackie. It still boggles my mind, you see? Because when I came back I was heralded as a bit of a legend. Not necessarily because I was a decorated story from the past but because I was here in the beginning. I helped create this. That's why I thought people were happy to see me back. But then it all went away. It all changed just because Jason Gryphon wanted to get himself over by going toe-to-toe with Jack of Diamonds. By the way, how'd that work out?

    Oh yeah. I broke his fuckin' neck.

    You'll have to pardon the language as I'm normally well mannered but I'm fed up with this entire situation. Because after coming back and making my presence known, Gryphon started this little game of following me every goddamn week. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without him rearing his ugly head and haunting me. Week in and week out I was subjected to dealing with this psycho. He became a part of my life. That's not what I signed up for when I put my name on a fresh FWA contract. I didn't sign on for an infinite number of matches with Jason Gryphon. Yet week in and week out...week in and week out....week in and week out. Even when it came to the War Games match to decide the fate of the entire company. Jason Gryphon was involved.

    And Jason Gryphon perished. He bit off more than he could chew and he choked on his mistake. After tormenting me for nearly half a year he got a nice little broken neck for Christmas and God bless us everyone. What a wonderful Christmas it was. But do ya know what Jackie got? A double-dose of Jason Gryphon because his little buddies...his little bitty pals PAJ and Ryan Rondo set their sights on me. And boy, let me tell ya, ending up in the same goddamn situation again after finally setting myself free really made me angry. You know why? Because I deserve better. I've earned better.

    I am better.



    They say not to judge a book by its cover. But has anyone ever really explained why a book shouldn't be judged by its cover? Why is a cover not an example of what should be expected? It's the first thing we see and first impressions are everything. Being given such an easy opportunity to present something at face value only to pull away is...unwise.


    Ace of Spades: I've remained silent for long enough. At first I remained silent by not following Jack back to the FWA. Then I remained silent by not speaking after finally joining him. That time has come to pass. People have asked me why I'm here. Why I've returned. And recently people have asked me why I've changed. I'm not an FWA Original like Jack but I wasn't too far off. I joined this company in the very early days of its existence and I saw what they did to Jack. I saw the physical pain and torment that he had to endure with his injury. I saw the mental pain and torment he had to endure when trying to figure out what was best for his future. I saw the emotional pain and torment he had to endure when FWA management neglected him in his time of need and kicked him to the curb. I was there.

    And that's why I've been silent.

    Because injustice exists in many forms. Jack's excommunication from a company he helped build was only the first domino to fall. The same executives and suit monkeys that were turning a blind eye to Jack came to me and asked me to steal his spot. That was the second. And every day since then, nothing I've seen from the FWA leads me to believe that anything is different. He's said it himself already. He was cheered when he came back last summer. People were excited about the new entrance music and the red diamonds flying around the arena. But all it took was one cascade of lies from a beloved fraud to bring Jack down. It's not right. And I am very grateful for the opportunity to take part in this fight. I've been working the doors at one of Las Vegas' hottest clubs for the past couple years. Do you think putting me in a street fight will scare me?

    It doesn't scare me. But I'm gonna SCAR you.



    JOD: An unsanctioned street fight? That's the stipulation? Why does that...why does that sound familiar? Oh, right...Jason Gryphon.

    Does it annoy anyone that I bring up Jason so much? Does it get on your nerves? Does it make you say, “oh well he's not creative and just repeats himself” and does it bore you? This redundancy is intentional, boys and girls. Because I can't get over how the past seven months of my life has been a perpetual merry-go round revolving around Gryphon. This entire situation has been nothing but a recycled mess. PAJ and Ryan Rondo get me in a street fight just a matter of months after Gryphon did. It's like no matter what I do, I just can't escape these guys. I beat three men in a handicap match in my first match back. I took Drew Stevenson to the limit in my second match back. I'm the reason the Old Era won War Games and I'm the reason G-Rich still has a job. I took Gabrielle Montgomery to the edge for her FWA Heavyweight Championship and barely lost, yet here I am on a pay-per-view against N.E.O. The common theme of my return continues.

    The common theme of my entire FWA career continues. Because all I've ever been is passed over for less deserving people. I mean, I'm not gonna complain about Shannon getting Gabby at Trial By Fire because I know she's going to continue dishing out what Gabby deserves. But after the match I got out of her at the Crossfire Reunion show, don't you think I deserve another title shot? I mean, is there anyone on this roster that can stake a claim that they're the Number One Contender over me? Is there anyone that's done half of what I've done since being back to even shuffle their name into the deck? No.

    No.

    There is only one Jack of Diamonds and there is only one rightful heir to the FWA's throne. And again, making Ace my partner? I've all the confidence in the world in Ace because he's not just an Ace Kicker, he's an ass kicker. But the guy isn't even under contract! And yeah, I know, unsanctioned street fight and all that jazz. But look at this for what it is, ladies and gentlemen. The supposed good guys of FWA, N.E.O featuring PAJ and Ryan Rondo, get this street fight against me and Ace because that's really the only way they can get their hands on Ace. In a world full of heroes and villains, I'm yet again miscast as the bad guy. And why is that? Because I stand my ground when people try to bully me? Because I defend myself, my friends, and everything that FWA used to stand for? Because I'm brutally honest and tell the truth? Why am I the bad guy? Why am I the evil one?

    WHY WON'T MOMMY LOVE ME?

    I'll tell you why she won't love me. Because I've changed. Every single night that I walk out to that ring, there's a bubbling beneath the surface that keeps even me guessing on what's going to happen. I'm not the sweet Jackie that started back in 2005. I'm the bitter Jackie that returned in 2014 and was immediately tossed into the dumpster like an unwanted relic on sale at a flea market. This nonsense has gone on long enough. I think it's time I put an end to N.E.O. An end to this whole New Era thing; a final nail in the coffin I've been building for months. Who am I really facing here?

    PAJ tried to orchestrate some kind of masterful execution of G-Rich and failed horribly. He gets fired and then eventually comes back and it's like he miraculously became cured of his evil ways! Please.

    And Ryan Rondo? Boy, you're getting up there with Gryphy Poo in terms of the number of times I've had to face you. Why are you even friends with these guys, Ryan? Remember back before War Games when I told you I liked your style? How you seemed old school and how I'd love to take you under my wing? Remember that? What happened, friend? Why didn't you wanna take me up on that offer? You could have been hanging out with me, Shannon and Ace this entire time and we could have even given you a better nickname than what you have now. The Last Star in the Sky? There's so many stars, Ryan. So many. And they all outshine you. Because you're nothing. You've been riding Jason's coattails this entire time and now that he's out of commission, you have to call in your other BFF because you're not man enough to face me in a street fight by yourself. It's clear as day, Mr. Last Star. Clear. As. Day.

    So I hope you're both ready. Ace and I have been waiting for an opportunity like this to bash some respect into those pea-sized brains of yours. And we look forward to everything after this little speed bump. Because big things are coming. Big, big things. Change. And we're going to be big, big parts of this change. FWA will never be the same again.

    And neither will PAJ or Ryan Rondo once we break their legs.


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