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Edgemaster006

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Everything posted by Edgemaster006

  1. I edited once. And if this is a thread about the last year, why aren't you talking about the people who've stayed on instead of babbling about how much "heat" I have and how people use my name as synonymous with no-showing?
  2. Just for the record: I hyped myself because that's how we agreed to book Strong. P.S: I left because this efed is a time committment that I couldn't deliver. Nothing more, nothing less. I just...left. P.P.S: Given all of the ranting threads you've posted over the years, DC, there's no way you can say that I'm the one who can't take criticism. P.P.P.S: Why the heck is my name even still mentioned in this fed? "Pull a Strong?" Are you effing kidding me? Fine. Then I guess I just pulled a Draven with my inconsequential complaints. Get on with yourselves.
  3. I'm going to say Shiranui. When Maru performs it, especially with his modern frame, you can tell that there's a whole lot of weight behind it. So when he actually gets over that mid-point in the flip, the impact is there. Not to mention that his one-handed approach makes it look quite cool. Exploder Suplex v. Saito Suplex
  4. If you consider Teddy Hart a "flip floppy cruiser" then you haven't watched a Teddy Hart that's actually taken place within the last year and a half.
  5. After watching the vegas betting odds I am QUITE shocked: they have Franca and Marquardt to win. This is an optimal time to bet on the champion. Franca is on a streak, but his only notable wins are against Spencer Fisher and Nate Diaz...both substandard opponents. Marquardt meanwhile, is from Sanchez's Gaidojutusu camp. Diego fell to the superior classical wrestling of Koschek...and now Marquardt is up against even more of a brute in Sherk. Sean will dominate this fight. Evans v. Ortiz is a tossup in my mind. It all depends. If Rashad has even competent take-down defense, he can do it. Tito relies on the fact that people have no idea how to deal with his style: in my mind the reason he beat Wanderlei. Wandy was used to someone actually DOING something in the guard. I share Spiral's sentiment on Nog v. Herring. Heath is a solid, polished fighter with POWERFUL kicks....something he displayed last fight. This one will come down to what kind of a shape Noguiera is in, and how he is coping with being legally blind on one eye.
  6. Now....how the heck did this happen? Big Nog is 80% blind in one eye. Everyone was saying that there'd be no way for him to get a fighting license in North America. Anyone want to elaborate? At first I thought I had misread...and that they'd signed little Nog. But reading on, it was clear that this is indeed Rodriguo.
  7. Thank yeh there. Your promo as well as Jays were awesome as well.
  8. SOMEWHERE IN JOLLY OL ENGLAND….A BATTLE IS ABOUT TO COMMENCE… http://wembley-stadium-news.newslib.com/img/logo/4884.jpg TALLY HO!~ …came the piercing cry as Daniel Strong galloped over the hill in full polo attire. He was wearing one of those quaint, incomprehensible British hats…which made one’s head look like a penis. Ah, the joys of being formal. Albeit, there was no one to be formal with. Wembley stadium stood empty, as Daniel Strong strode in on his horse, affectionately named Mrs. Sissy-mare. Mrs. Sissy-mare nibbled on the lush, and somewhat artificial Wembley turf before lovingly galloping over to Darkstar, standing smartly in the center of the arena, the camera panning accordingly. Darkstar: Ah…I see you’ve…. Strong: Pip pip, cheerio boss! Darkstar : ….what? Strong: Oh erm…salutations…um….klatu-barada-niktoe! Darkstar: That’s not even Briti-….whatever. I am glad you could make it. Now if we could just…. Just as the boss began to collect his thoughts, a collective “OI! OI! OI!” began to rumble beneath the calm surface of the sporting venue. The heavens shook, volcanoes erupted… ….heads were shaved…. Strong: What the…? Darkstar: It can’t be…. Darkstar and Strong: The Manchester United “Let’s get drunk and sodomize people who hate us” fan club! [T.M.U.L.G.D.A.S.P.W.H.U.F.C.] Lightning descended from the heavens as, crashing through the gates, a collection of very angry looking men in red soccer jerseys stampeded through and made a menacing beeline towards the TWO-stars representatives in the center of the field. Darkstar and Strong: THEY’RE COMING RIGHT FOR US! ….but it was too late. The men in red were bearing down upon them, like an unholy avalanche that reeked of British hops and too much BBC. The human wave surged forth…. Darkstar and Strong: SHIIII----- ….and harmlessly ran past them…leaving a dizzy and still frenzied Christopher Eagles in their wake. Darkstar: What the….what was hell was that? Eagles: Oi, o-…what? Where am I? Darkstar: The stampede! What was with the stampede?? Eagles: Oh….oh that. Tickets. Darkstar: Tickets for WHAT? Eagles: The cup. Manchester United, dontcha know. Darkstar: But they haven’t even QUALIFIED yet! Eagles:….what? Darkstar: Never mind…just line up right there. Anywho, welcome both of you to BAAAAAALLLLLIIIIIINNNNN…… Came the long, dragged out reply. Soaring thousands of feet above the stadium in his private “Global Ballin Navigation” Jet, Mikhail Mills gracefully began his plummet to earth. Yanking on his parachute cord, his safety tool immediately inflated into place; a parachute in the pattern of the United States flag. Sporting all Sean-John attire, he finally planted his feet firmly into Wembley soil, before shooting an invigorated look at the boss…who seemed a bit unimpressed. Darkstar: Always one to make an entrance, huh? Well that makes three. Now if we could just find…. Dan:…… Darkstar: DEAR GOD?! Where did YOU come from?! The massive frame of Dan Jackson did not walk…nor parachute…nor riot it’s way into the stadium. It merely appeared…as the large, none too jolly man manifested himself over Darkstar’s right shoulder…with a menacing, Kawada-like glare in his eyes. Dan: …….. Darkstar:: …….. Dan:……. Darkstar:………….. Darkstar: Right then. Just go line up with the rest of them. Now….AHEM….gentlemen…..and now onto the reason why you’re all here. They awaited with running noses, distempered breaths, unparalleled excitement, and in some cases a crippling jock itch, Darkstar: You have been selected for the first ever….TWO-STARS UNITED STATE CHAAALLL….. JDZ: WAIT A MINUTE!!!! An out of breath James-Dario-to-the-Z comes sprinting out of breath into the arena…clearly worried about his time management skills. Darkstar: You’re late. JDZ: Right, right…but *pant* my agent had me booked for something else….see Anna Nicole Smith died…and it was this huge thing and…press coverage. Anyway, long story short, I’m starring as Anna in the new movie they’re making on her life. You can continue now. Darkstar: Right…now…aheem…..TWO-STARS UNITED STATES TITLE CHAAAALLLLEEEEEENGE!!!!!!!!!!!! GASP! To be continued…..
  9. ...Daniel Strong reading a letter, as his foot rests firmly on the back of a haggard looking telegram boy. He sits in plush surroundings, a deer precariously mounted on a wall of a posh, teak-carved study. Strong - Wembley? Telegram Boy -y-y-eah... The innocent delivery boy had arrived earlier with a telegram addressed "from Darkstar." Expecting a tip, and perhaps sexual intercourse with a mature housewife, he was met with a swift mafia kick to the face as well as being forced to do a degrading "Hillary Clinton dance." Agony. Strong - Did you say Wembley? Telegram By - ...y-yeah... The fear wrenching in his delivery-esque stomach.... Strong- MOTHER****ING WEMBLEY!>?!?!?!! Telegram Boy - Oh god...don't hurt...! Any moment now and..... Strong - .....I love Wembley! ....anticlimactic. His typically cocky American accent suddenly morphs into a distunguished, British dialect. Strong (in limey voice) - Dear Sir Christof must want me to play polo with him! Oh I say, and here I haven't had my tea! I must prepare my polo attire and my bag at once! Cheerio! The scene awkwardly fades to...
  10. What is Takeshi Morishima's gimmick? I recently saw his entrance in NOAH...and he came out in a fur coat and bowler derby. Wanted to know what that was all about.
  11. Tap had a better lyrical flow and more of a mix-up on insults, rather than playing up the homosexual and "yo mamma" angle as much. Vote: Spiral Tap
  12. I went from being totally content to having an ocular migraine in the space of two seconds. You...****.
  13. If it was a day later than Sat, I could make it...but i wont have time to meet a Sat. deadline :(
  14. Cheers indeed, Irish-boner. Hit me up on MSN...Maybe we'll come up with some-way to record and post a real-time back and forth. As a side note...may I have a somewhat different niche in the entrance video now that I'm actually ON the active roster? I've been "debuting as the special enforcer" for far too long. :-0
  15. We fade to a camera snaking it’s way through the maze that is the TWO-stars backstage area. As the frame moves, it finally centers on an even-tempered Daniel Strong walking calmly as he turns a corner directly into the camera’s view. Immediately, a perky blonde-spiky haired anonymous reporter wearing the latest line of sports-coat. His name tag reads simply “Mr. Man.” Mr. Man – Daniel, Daniel, over here! The Only ICON That Matters turns, his eyebrow cocking high above the rim of his sunglasses. A slightly annoyed countenance suggests he already knows the questions coming. Mr. Man – Boyo just had some strong words for you, what ha--- He is cut off by the right palm of the Savior of the Suplex in his face. Taking a deep breath, and sleepily shrugging the shoulders beneath his silken, expensive shirt, Daniel somberly leans into the microphone. Strong - ….Boyo……WHO? Mr. Man looks confused, an expression that can only be described as dumbfounded creeping on him. Mr. Man – Well you know…the guy who…just…. Strong- …..HOLD UP HOLD UP…..you mean Rowdy Roddy Piper or…..no,no….Fit Finlay…..or…..possibly a member of the Highlanders or….Stock Ethnic ******* No. 2323 or……I don’t….I don’t quite know a Boyo. Mr. Man – W—Well he’s… Strong -…how a bout a big helping of “I DON’T GIVE A **** ABOUT BOYO.” Yeah, he outlasted me in the battle royal. But then again, I don’t recall Boyo being the one in the most hellacious World Heavyweight Title Match in recent memory. I don’t remember HIM wrestling for close to half an hour and then having the dick to compete in the battle royal and STILL be the last entrant. I don’t seem to remember Boyo being the one to get me over the top rope. Do you? Mr. Man – well I…. Strong- Like his partner Sickness, Boyo is absolutely…positively…wholeheartedly NOTHING but a piss-ant nobody. Was HE the one who dominated the most monstrous man in the locker room? No. All he has is a battle royal win….and hell, if he’d have wanted to buy himself one of those I could have given the ******* change to spare. Congratulations, down-syndrome baby. You finally learned how to ride a bike like the big boys. But I’m the one that’s been riding it for years. To people like the Incredible Holt and Evil Gringo…I’m the ONLY ICON that matters?..... Daniel takes a moment to jut his chin high into the air, taking in the atmosphere as the fans in the arena break into a zealous “STRONG! STRONG! STRONG” chant. Strong - But to you? I’m not an icon. I’m a bronze-****ing-god. I don’t have any respect for a man whose name, in slang, translates to “big hard-on.” So if my name sounds like something from a male porn magazine, andI just stood in front of a man named after a raging erection…then you calling ME queer would be like OJ Simpson calling me guilty. The reporter stammers and stumbles, trying to get his interview in…unfortunately Strong cuts him off persistently. Strong- And let’s not kid ourselves here, junior. Let’s not beat around the bush. I WAS THE ONE who cost Drake the belt. I WAS THE ONE who destroyed his dreams of retaining the title. That vanilla gorilla, Barry Gower? He just HAPPENED to be in the right place at the right damn time. Mr. Man-….how do you feel about…. Strong – I’m going to stop you right there. What do you call a Welshman with many girlfriends? Mr. Man- ….what? Strong- Answer the question. What do you call a Welshman with many girlfriends? Mr. Man- I…I don’t know. What DO you call a Welshman with many girlfriends? Strong- A shepherd. The crowd within the arena “OOOHs” at the proverbial verbal burn. Strong merely tips his glasses on his nose and does his trademark, cocky half-smile. Strong- ….and that’s all I’ve got to say about THAT. Let’s talk business, jabroni. Let’s talk tonight. Baby Drake and Big Holt-zilla….neither of you can win, can you? At Battle Royal, you threw everything you had at me. Every hellacious move…every punishing tandem combo you could think of…..and it STILL DIDN’T MAKE A DAMN DIFFERENCE. Why? Because the only ICON that matters, like a true, hard, stiff “Boyo” got BACK UP no matter how hard you “beat it.” Again….more cheers as well as more proverbial OOHS. Strong – I told you weeks ago, I don’t care about titles. Golden face-plates mean nothing to me…hell I’ve won more belts than Chris Eagles has had suppositories. And even though I was cheated out of a title on Sunday…in that ring, I PROVED that I was the best. I PROVED that I was the toughest and most physically able man in the company. I PROVED that I am the unstoppable ICON. And no clever line does **** about that because tonight isn’t ABOUT clever lines…it’s about comeuppances. Drake and Holt….for the FIVE TI----erm….THIRD TIME, THIRD TIME, THIRD TIME…..I’m going to embarrass the only members of the New Blood that matter. Boyo...you’ve got a big mouth son. And normally, I like that in a woman. ….another sea of cheers and ooohs… Strong - …so unless you plan on sucking me dry in the middle of that ring, keep yourself, your wit, and your tiny little “Boyo” the hell out of my way. And when it’s all said and done….when everyone that has it coming to them tonight GETS theirs….then “Dastardly, Devilish, Moustache Twiddling, Dangerous” Dan Jackson…..you’re NEXT. Hey look….is that Boyo over there? Eager at the prospect of a scoop, the reporter eagerly pivots to the side. Mr. Man- WHERE? KERPOOW! The reporter’s world goes black as Daniel retracts his fist from the poor correspondent’s groin. Strong- Well what do you know….there WAS a Boyo there. And that’ SHASTA……BITCH! Satisfied with himself, Daniel saunters off, leaving the reporter on the ground in a world of pain. -Fade To…-
  16. Computer viri a are a bitch...sorry for the absence. Luckily, I had gotten MOST of my two affairs in order before I left. Again, meh-sorry/
  17. Drake, now that the show has progressed a bit more, continue with the plans as discussed at first opportunity.
  18. I accidentally double-posted the intro. Once somebody deletes that, you're all good to go.
  19. *80's style Intro* 'Carve me an Edge' by Fake Ideal starts to play as the XTV opening video plays…. http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v357/Andy_Telford/explosionident2ud.gif Images are displayed throughout the title sequence: Twiggie hitting the Twiggaludo Frosion Barry Gower throwing down the ERE title Violence Level: Omega holding the Tag Titles aloft Mickhail Mills spinning his custom US Title Drake Rush sneering at the camera The Incredible Holt TKO'ing Evil Gringo from the cage Deadman tapping to Gower’s crossface Chris Eagles grabbing the TV title to become 2 time TV champion Iagan looking at his map bemused Apollo Chambers thumping his chest Chris Care ripping a Care Bear to shreds Elder doing the Infra-Red on Boyo Angel posing, flanked by Violence Level: Omega Sickness thwarting Boyo at Battleships Jaycey Baby applying his eye-shadow The Violence Bearer rising up through the ramp JDZ squaring up to S.E.X. Daniel Strong debuting as the special guest enforcer Damon Kori doing something sinister Arkham taking a monkey for a walk Dangerous Dan taking another sneaky victory Arkham's monkey being vapourised by The Lonely Avenger The Dark Alliance hitting The Anvil on The New Gringo Army The New Blood hitting the Natural Order Sickness's Battleships game all over the floor! Eagles and Elder lying on the mat after the hell in a cell match TIH returning Drake holding the world title belt aloft while on top of the ladder. The cheesy grin of Darkstar once more!!!!!! A final set of fireworks go off with a huge screech and a bang and the cameras get close-ups of various signs: DANTE WE MISS YOU~ BOYO 4 PRESIDENT HOLLA @ MILLS JACKSON NEEDS RITALIN The commentators introduce the show as 'Carve me an Edge' fades out. Styles: Welcome everyone to XTREEEEEEME TV. My name is Joey Styles, this here is Paul E Heyman, and what a show we have in store for you tonight. Heyman: Indeed Joey Styles. 'The Wrestling Machine' Barry Gower will face the disgusting hippie known as Twiggie. And bahhh gawwd, Gower will kick Twiggie's ass. Styles: Ohh Gower is a force to be reckon with, but Twiggie is more than capable of beating him. Let me remind you that 'The PETA Punisher' beat Arron Winter in a VICIOUS, GORY, BRUTAL submission match at Season's Beatings. So you can be sure that Twiggie has what it takes to be on top. Heyman: Bah! Styles: We also have a very interesting clash of Styles. Draven Cage of Violence Level: Omega will face the 'The Queen Of Detroit' Jayce LaRoque. Heyman: Poor Jaycey. That fag will get killed by a true man like Cage. Draven will rip Jaycey's gut out and then he will eat it in front of him. That's how tough that ******* is. Styles: And what a Main Event we have in store you for guys. 'The Biggest Jackass of them All' Boyo will seek revenge and face the TWOStars World Heavyweight Champion Drake Rush. Heyman: Awwww, is little Boyo sad because Drake retired Dante's ass last week? Styles: Well Dante didn't deserve to go out like that. Mueller has given his soul and body to this company, and to go out is such way is just despicable. And you only have to thank Rush for that. Heyman: Ohh don't worry. I've already thanked him like 100 times for getting rid of that gothic freak. The former owner of E-C-W is cut short of words when the Peoria Civic Center lights go pitch black and two loud lightning strikes hit the entrance ramp as the guitar riff of “Control” by Puddle of Mudd (:44 onward on the YouTube video.) starts to play in the arena. http://img371.imageshack.us/img371/9958/drakerushod5.gif Heyman: See Styles. This show automatically is starting with a bang. Your World champion starts the show. What more can a man ask for? The arena lights start to flicker as 'The Messiah' Drake Rush, with the WHC belt strapped around his waist, pops out from behind the black curtain to a HUGE chore of boo's. 'The King of Kings' stops in the middle of the stage and soaks up all the boo's. He unstraps the WHC title from his waist and lifts it up with his right hand, reminding everyone who the World Heavyweight Champion is. Heyman: Thank you Drake, thank you. The former owner of E-C-Dub gets up from his leather chair and starts clapping. This leaves Styles with a confused look on his face. Styles: What the hell are you doing Paul? Why are you clapping? Heyman: Show some respect Joey. I'm clapping and thanking Drake for forcing Dante into retirement last week. This company is a better place now. Styles: :roll 'The Ultimate King of the Ring' then hangs the WHC belt in front of his pants, yes the COCKBELT~!, and procees to walk down the entrance ramp, ignoring all the fans that are taunting, and shouting obscenities at him. Rush then reaches the ring-side area. Styles: Paul, stop, you're making a fool of yourself. 'The president of the X-Treemeee' Paul Heyman is bowing towards Rush hence Styles comment. Heyman: Shut up Joey, you are just a mere fool who doesn't understand greatness. :worship Heyman finishes bowing towards Rush and sits once again right by his broad-casting colleague. 'The Messiah' climbs the ring steps and heads towards the middle of the ring via the ring apron. Facing the crowd, he points at the WHC belt, while he starts thrusting his pelvis, making the WHC belt move like if it was Drake's dick. This causes a major reaction from the crowd, mostly boo's. Styles: You know Paul, that right there is a disrespect act towards all the great legends that have held that World championship. Guys like Lou Thesz, Bobo Brazil and Duddy Roger are probably rolling in their graves thanks to this. 'The Ultimate King of the Ring' enters the ring. There he unstraps the WHC belt from his waist and puts it over his right shoulder. Rush then demands a microphone and is quickly received by one. Drake prepares to speak but the Illinois crowd don't let him thanks to their loud boo's. Drake: People, people people. Didn't your mothers teach you some manners?........ Didn't your mothers teach you to respect what's better than you?.... Well I guess not, because if they would, then you would all be praising me. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Drake: Anyways, SHUT THE **** UP!...... I have something to say. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Drake: At Season's Beatings I RETAINED my World Heavyweight Champion in a BRUTAL match against my dawg Ashton. I gotta give it to him. He's one tough *******. I had to pull out all the stops to beat that sucker. But in the end I proved that I'm just too good. Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Drake: Now quite frankly…after my hellacious Season’s Beating’s title defense, I had NO BUISINESS being on Xtreme TV last week! I mean sure…everyone had a week off anyway. ..but I had a groin pull the likes of which mere mortals could NOT fathom! Drake mockingly rubs the inside of his thigh as the crowd proceeds to boo ever louder. Drake: But did that stop the greatest TWO-Stars World Heavyweight Champion of ALL TIME? NO! And so last week…in this very ring…with my groin ABLAZE…I pinned Dante in the middle of the ring…one-two-three….JUST…FOR…YOU. Heyman: Amen, Drake! Amen! Styles: Oh come off it, Paul! He used every dirty trick on the goddamn book! He pulled the referee into harm’s way, and then used a chair on Dante’s leg…and ALL after Dante wiping the floor with his smug face! He didn’t DESERVE that win! Heyman: But he got it, little miss Betty-Bitter-Britches…so lighten up and join the party! Drake proceeds to keep on prancing around the ring, patting the belt on his shoulder, all smiles. Drake: Dante Mueller...I hope you’re listening from whatever shithole apartment, roach infested hotel room, or dark-vortex of a life you’ve created for yourself...because I’m giving you a late Christmas present! One last honor to send you on your way! Before you put those wrestling trophies in a box in the attic…before you hang up the boots for good…I’m giving you one last hurrah. It’s an honor awarded very rarely, so you have every reason to be pround. Dante “The Assassin” Mueller…you’re going to be inducted into…an exclusive club. Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!!! Amidst the crowd’s accusations, Drake remains totally stone-faced…perhaps even genuinely serious. Drake: The current members are the crème-de-la-crème of TWO-Stars; The Judge, Chris Eagles, Chris Care, Barry Gower….even good ol’ Evil Gringo, before his losing streak. That’s right…you guessed it! It’s the “Drake Rush Beat My Ass and Left Me Lying Within an Inch of My Life” society! Yay! Reaching into his pocket, Drake pulls out a large party favor and blows it into the microphone! Drake: *TWWWEEEEET* Come on, you inbred losers! Let’s sing the “D.R.B.M.A.A.L.M.L.W.A.I.O.M.L” society induction theme song! Sing along if you know the tune! The loudspeakers suddenly blare out into a familiar tune…precisely cloned from the famous “I Fought the Law” song. Drake caresses his microphone, mocking generic over-dramatized pop-singers and begins to croon! Styles: Oh Jesus, no… Heyman: I’ll bet he has the voice of a virgin choir boy! Sing Drake, SING!!! Drake: Breakin rocks in the hot sun I fought the Drake and the Drake won (twice) I needed money cause I had none I fought the Drake and the Drake won (twice) I left my Drake and it feels so bad Guess my drake is run He’s the best Drake that I ever had I fought the Drake and the Drake won I fought the Drake and the Drake won! Styles: This is torture…somebody cut the music before---Paul, are you DANCING? Heyman: ---shut up, Joey! I’m trying to concentrate on my hips here! As Heyman proceeds to do the hustle, Drake proceeds to sing! Drake: Second verse’s tune same as the first! Drake-ing people with a six-gun I fought the Drake and the Drake won (twice) I lost my Drake and I lost my fun I fought the Drake a----- Darkstar: CUT….THE…MUSIC. The crowd explodes in cheering [and their ears stop bleeding] when they lay eyes on the cheesy grin of Darkstar, stretched wide on the titan tron! His eyes gleam with the promise of some new mischief. Drake seems genuinely upset as to being interrupted, and leans on the third rope, giving Darkstar an annoyed scowl. Darkstar: As much as I’d love to hear some World-Heavyweight-Championship karaoke…I’d rather rip my eardrum out and EAT IT. A tumultuous roar of approval from the crowd, as Drake mumbles curses under his breath. The boss, totally unphased, continues in suit. Darkstar: But…all insults aside…I have some serious business with you, Mr. Rush. See, if there’s one thing that Darkstar hates…it’s being in debt. I don’t like owing a damn thing to a damn person…I’m sure you can relate. I’m more of a “be in charge and boss em around” kind of guy, myself. So you can imagine how upset I was, when I was about to throw away my Christmas shopping list…and saw YOUR NAME WITH NO CHECK MARK ON IT! Rush’s eyebrow cocks curiously…the champ clearly has some reservations about where this is going…yet continues to listen out of curiosity. Darkstar: And you coming out here…talking about late Christmas presents…I just KNEW I had to get you something…or I couldn’t live with myself. So somewhere between Evil Gringo’s pure-silk piñata and Twiggie’s “Grass enthusiast paraphernalia”….I got you a present all your own. The crowd is at a steady undercurrent, not knowing what to expect. Drake looks reservedly at Darkstar…ready for any possible surprise attack. Drake: ….oh yeah? So what’s my present? Darkstar: Oh…you catch on quick! See, that’s why you’re the champion! But you’ve got it a but wrong. See…it’s not “what”…but “who.” And the answer is….without further ado….through the merit of his phenomenal Season’s Beatings performance…YOUR NEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER! The introduction to "This is the New ****" by Marilyn Manson seeps its way onto the microphone, as the bloodstained arena takes on a green tint... http://www.obsessedwithwrestling.com/pictures/m/mattcappotelli/08.jpg Styles: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! It’s The Only ICON That Matters, Daniel Strong! He’s the new number one contender for the World Heavyweight Title! Heyman: HOW?? How in the world?? He’s only had two matches! Styles: That may be true…but his dominating performance against The Incredible Holt at Season’s Beatings may argue otherwise! I have never seen Holt dominated like that, but THIS man did it! Drake’s eyes are wide in combination of fear and frustration. Darkstar fades from the tron, and Daniel is handed a microphone via a crew member. With his trademark half-smile, and a shirt worth more than Donald’s Trump’s toupee, he begins… Strong: SUUURPRISE, my Puerto Rican Princess! An eruption of cheers, merely at the first line. The look on Drake’s face is one of pure malice…as Strong continues to smile. Heyman: Puerto Rican Princess??? Drake is all man!!! Strong: That’s right, you know what I mean. Honestly, I love Puerto Rico! I mean…it’s the land of opportunity…the land of the free and the home of the brave…. Heyman: Of course it is! A fine country, if I do say so! Styles: Pssst….it’s a commonwealth. Strong: ….scenic Puerto Rico…where your sister has hair on her legs and as thick a moustache as your father….where the United States proceeds to lay down it’s pimp hand after it gets bored in Iraq….Ah, Puerto Rico…the land god gave us when he took a sand-blaster and turned it on a bunch of negroes! Heyman: Can he even SAY that on television?? Styles: I think so…after that “First Negro” thing last week. Heyman: But that’s different. Mikhail Mills is actually black! Drake:Listen, you mayo-on-white bread, arrogant, disrespectful…. Strong:…blah-dey, blah-dey blah- IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY. You see, I pinned big Holt-zilla in the middle of that ring one-two-three at Season’s Beatings! I proved that I was the genuine article! I took the most dominant force in the TWO-Stars…I absorbed all he gave me…and I kept coming! I did what no other man in that locker room can brag of doing….I took down the Incredible Holt…one on one…fair fight…no prior injuires! And while I don’t know what the man is doing taking orders from a cherry-assed spick like you….Daniel Strong will be the first to admit that he was given one hell of a match. The crowd cheers respectfully. Again, Drake lifts the microphone to his lips, but Strong cuts him off. Strong: Oh, no, no! Don’t put the microphone to your mouth, my San Juan slut. Take at around to the back door, shine it up real nice, put some slobber on it for traction, and use it to train your asshole. Because…come Battle Royal…your behind is going to be “Drake Broken” by my foot. And that’s SHASTA…..BIIIIITCH!! Strong’s theme music begins to play as he spikes the microphone and walks unceremoniously to the back, the crowd still cheering. Drake Rush is absolutely livid, throwing a hissy fit in the ring! Styles: What a huge announcement! Daniel Strong is the number one contender! And he has plans for Battle Royal! This is already shaping up to be an explosive XTV…don’t go away! -Fade To….-
  20. Twiggie, what does the word "gully" mean? Outside of the literal context.
  21. -Fade In- A lavishly decorated locker room, a buffet fit for gaudy kings, and a golden-framed portrait of the locker room’s overconfident inhabitants does not drain the tension. In the center of the room sits The Incredible Holt on a metal folding chair; his chin buried in the palm of his hands and a scowl on his face. The camera zooms out a bit more to reveal the frame of the World Heavyweight Champion Drake Rush leaning against the wall, irritated. The silence is an awkward…constrictive one. Finally sighing, and going over to the buffet to take an apple, Rush is the first to break the silence. Drake- …I hate to say I told you so…but I DID tell you so. At this, Big Greenie rises angrily from his chair and turns his back slightly to the camera, revealing a kind of brace-bandage combination going down from his lower neck, disappearing down his back under an expensive shirt, and re-appearing somewhat in the small of his waist. Holt- I don’t care what YOU told ME…I told YOU not to interfere. The Green Destroyer is clearly a bit miffed…but Rush keeps his composure while tossing his selected apple up and down. Drake – And look where THAT got you, eh? He beat you. Holt – I had things under control until you came out! Drake - …but he beat you… Holt – Hell, I even regained control after you almost mucked everything up! Drake- …but he beat you… Holt – And damn it, maybe if you hadn’t taken away that ONE bit of initiative then… It is Drake’s turn to get slightly miffed. Catching the apple in his right hand, he pivots and pegs it against the wall, the apple shattering to pieces… Drake - …BUT HE BEAT YOU! He…BEAT….YOU. And hell, it wasn’t like when Dante beat you…when your leg got screwed up by Gringo the week before. It wasn’t you getting shoved out of place in a multi-man big-match situation. One on one…shoulders to the mat….no excuses…HE…BEAT….YOU; when was the last time THAT happened, huh? And it was an outcome that could have been EASILY avoided if you’d just LISTENED to me! Both men release angry sighs and sit on opposite sides of the locker room, the awkward silence returning for a while… …until it is Holt’s turn to break the ice. Holt – I wanted to do it on my own. Drake - …you what? Holt – I wanted to do it on my own, alright? It was a “Dream Match of the Century”…it was a fight between two *******s deemed as unstoppable in their own right…and I wanted to go out there and fight that one by myself. Rush gets out of his chair, and snakes his way over to Holt’s side of the room, his voice a hiss-like whisper. Drake – Let’s get something straight here and now, okay? We’re the New Blood. Let me say that again….WE’RE THE NEW BLOOD. This isn’t “Team Holt”…this isn’t “Team Winter”…hell, it isn’t even “Team Rush.” This is…THE…NEW…BLOOD. We’re a collective unit, big man. Each one of us, exists for the good of the entire group. When a member wins…we all win. When one member loses…we ALL LOSE. That’s why we look out for one another. That’s why we HELP each other win by any means necessary…because one guy screwing up reflects poorly on the group. His failure is OUR failure. So when ONE guy…ONE guy decides to stick his neck out for nothing more than “honor”…or “respect”….or a “dream match”…it isn’t just a matter of him being friendly. It’s a matter of him sticking the neck of the GROUP out…without or damn permission. Yeah, you wanted to go one on one with a legend…and I respect that. But you’re not just “The Incredible Holt” anymore…you’re a New Blood member. And everything…EVERYTHNG you do comes back to US in some way…you got it? The tension could be pierced with a knife…Holt’s eyes meet Drake’s…Drake stares back. Drake -….you GOT IT? Holt- Yeah…I “got” it. Switching up his tone manipulatively, Rush sits down at Holt’s side and pats his compatriot on the back. Drake – Look…I know what was going through your head. But you made a damn mistake…we’re still New Blood, alright? You lost to Strong…I can’t go back and change that. But don’t forget…I’m still the leader…I’M the one who gives the orders…and I’M the one wearing the TWO-Stars World Heavyweight Championship around his shoulder. Just don’t let that **** happen again…we’ll get the *******. But we’ll do it as a TEAM…a TEAM, you got that? He’s nothing but a man…a man like you and me. Got me there, bucko? He’s human. Holt- …. Drake- …Holt? Holt- …. Drake - *sigh*…well you think about that. I have to go get ready for my match with Dante. With that, the New Blood general rises to his feet and is about to leave the room, Holt still sitting in his chair, his chin buried in his arms. But just as the leader is about to leave, Holt utters a phrase… Holt -….but he isn’t. Rush stops in the frame of the doorway and turns around. Drake - …isn’t WHAT? Holt – He’s like a piece of metal. You hit it…and you hit it…and you may make a dent. But your knuckles will always be the first to give way and bleed…while the metal is still there. He…ISN’T….human. The men linger there, staring into each other’s eyes one last time…until the Messiah, with a snort of exasperation, exits the doorway without another exchange. Drake (whispers) - …crazy *******… Holt (whispers) - ….he…isn’t….human. -Fade Out-
  22. I demand that D-Tru and K-Fed form a stable...immediately.
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