|
|
Post by Jim Houston on Apr 9, 2018 16:18:52 GMT
The following email has been sent to all FPW contracted wrestlers.
Dear all,
Wow! Thank you all so much for your hard work in making our foray to New Orleans well worth the time, money and efforts that went into it. You all put on such a fantastic show which I think stood up against anything else that was going on that weekend. I've had so many people come up to me and express their appreciation for the sacrifices you all made to put on the best possible show.
With that in mind, I need to start looking ahead to our All Star Tag Team Classic. The shows will take place on Saturday 5th and Sunday 6th May and each will feature six matches. On the first night, our eight tag teams will compete in four quarter finals. Currently, I've got The Invaders, Anarchy and Sons of Cerberus pencilled in, as well as a team I didn't expect to be announcing but couldn't resist after yesterday morning- Bobby O and Jack Sevren. The other four spots are currently open, and I'd like to hear why you feel you deserve one, either from existing teams or from teams that are formed specifically to win this competition. The winners will receive a title match at our anniversary show, so it's a big prize to fight for.
As for the rest of the cards, James Saturn has earned himself a Hardcore Title shot against our new champion Nick Jameson by virtue of his victory on 60 Minutes of Freedom earlier this month. That match will take place on night two, alongside a blow-off match that I feel needs to happen between MDE and Graham Baker. MDE has two, albeit not exactly decisive wins, so I'm giving him the chance to name his stipulation, but I expect it to be named by the time I announce the card, or Baker will have the chance to name his.
On the first night, the main event will be an eight man tag team match where we address some of the developments in yesterday's main event. On one side we will have TJ Cole teaming, perhaps a little reluctantly, with TakeOver to face Matt Dwyer, Adam Thompson and two partners of their choosing, if they can find any that is. Matt and Adam- let me know your choices and I'll get the match signed off.
That leaves us with two free spots. I know there are a lot of matches that I could put in there, but, until next Sunday when I announce the full card, they're up for grabs. Impress me and they may be yours, alongside the four slots in the All Star Tag Team Classic.
Once again, thank you all so much for your hard work yesterday.
Jim Houston
P. S. Just to be clear, the current cards for both nights are as follows:
Night One:
QF1
QF2
QF3
QF4
Empty Slot
TJ Cole and TakeOver v Adam Thompson, Matt Dwyer, ?? and ??
Night Two:
SF1
SF2
MDE v Graham Baker: Stipulation TBD
Nick Jameson v James Saturn: Hardcore Title
Empty Slot
Final
|
|
|
|
Post by Jim Houston on Apr 9, 2018 17:05:28 GMT
MDE is shown in a ring, his singlet covering most of his back but several cuts still showing. He has a heavy bandage covering much of his right upper arm. He's working solo, taking a back bump before flipping onto his front and getting back to his feet as quickly as he can, before rolling forward, rolling backward and doing several star jumps, before hitting the ropes over and over. He stops when he sees Rachel, his young assistant, enter the room.
Rachel- "MDE, I-
MDE- "Why are you disrupting my workout? You know not to come in here now."
Rachel- "I know but this is important."
MDE- "So important that you had to stop me working out? Is this because of the medical advice? I told you that I'm not going to stop and not to try and persuade me otherwise."
Rachel- "No. Listen. I had an email from Jim Houston. He's put you in another match with Graham Baker at the next show."
MDE- "Baker? Again? I've beaten him twice now, decisively. If he's going to keep me doing the same thing over and over, maybe this isn't the right place for me. I should be getting a title match or at least stiffer competition than someone I've proven that I'm better than."
Rachel- "He's said you can choose the stipulation."
MDE- "Choose the... interesting. Advantage MDE."
Rachel- "But he's also said you have to announce it this week. He doesn't want you to have all the time to prepare and Baker none."
MDE- "I suppose he thinks that's 'fair'. Ok. I'll announce the type of match now. Bring me that camera."
The camera shakes as Rachel carries it closer to the ring and hands it to MDE. He holds it close to his face and speaks directly into it.
MDE- "Baker. I've beaten you twice now. First time, you impressed me as a wrestler but I won nevertheless. Then you went and challenged me to the most ridiculous of non-wrestling matches. I lost what respect I'd built up for you at that point. You tried to face me in a match where you clearly had the advantage. And guess what? I beat you again. I out thought you and I out played you at a game you take pride in calling your own. Now I get to choose how I'm going to beat you this time? Well, each time I've beaten you, it's been via pinfall. I don't mind how I win a match but there's a certain pride to be taken from making someone submit, from knowing that you gave them too much to handle, from knowing that they lost their will to continue... So it'll be... No, wait... tapping out... that's not enough. Graham Baker, when we next meet in the ring, I'm going to make you say the words 'I Quit'. When we next meet, when we last meet, it'll be in an 'I Quit' match. Oh... and one more thing... don't go thinking that this will be your typical hardcore 'I Quit' match. If you use any kind of weapon... no... if either of us voluntarily leaves the ring or uses any kind of weapon, we'll lose the match... and the right to ever wrestle in Freedom Pro Wrestling again. You'd better be ready, Graham, because you know I will be."
MDE hands the camera back to Rachel as he continues to train. The last shot we see is Rachel's face, looking a little dubious, as she turns off the camera.
|
|
|
|
Post by The_Aviator_GB on Apr 9, 2018 18:48:21 GMT
When we see Dasha, she approaches the FPW training ring, spotting Graham Baker as he submits a Young Lion after what looks to be a brief training match. The Young Lion looks in pain, but Graham looks determined. He hasn't broken a sweat. He calls another trainee to the ring, but pauses as he sees the camera crew. He sends the lions away on break, and leans over the ropes as Dasha approaches.
DB: Graham, you've probably heard the news-
Graham: That i'm booked against MDE again? Yeah. I have.
DB: How do you-
Graham: How do I feel? Like shit. I took him to task in that fucking street fight, only for the motherfucker to pull a pair of handcuffs out and roll me up after he clamped them on. Did he out-think me? Sure. Whatever. Did he win? Yeah. Was it decisive? Hell motherfucking no it wasn't. This is the second time, the second time, that MDE's had to rely on cheap tactics to beat me. He capitalized on a slip-up last time and had to pin me with a powerbomb. This time, he rolled me up and had to constrict my hands to do it. Was I upset? Yeah, of course I was, but I got over it.
DB: It's still a loss, however-
Graham: Of course it's a loss, but it's eating MDE inside. I know it is. The man claims to be a master of the submission game, but he still hasn't tapped out a newblood like me. He still hasn't beaten me at his game, or my game. He wants to challenge me to a submission match, then I'm game.
DB: It's strange you should mention it, as Jim Houston allowed MDE to pick the stipulation for the next match...and it's been announced as an I Quit match, with the stipulation that if you use a weapon or leave the ring, you'll be disqualified and fired from Freedom Pro Wrestling.
Graham pauses as he hears the news, and he looks back to Dasha for a moment. He raises an eyebrow.
Graham: One playground to the other. MDE wants an 'I Quit' match, a fancy submission match more than anything else. He wants this to become a technical brawl, well, so be it. MDE, I accept your challenge, so you can go run back to Houston and tell him it's booked. You want this fight, without your 'gutwrench powerbomb' or your fucking roll-ups, you've got it. I've been practicing my holds, I've been flexing my technical skills...I'm ready for you, MDE. You think this is a fucking advantage, it might be at first...but you still haven't proven that you can out-wrestle me in a submission-based contest. I promised i'd rip your arm out of your socket the next time we met, and I came damn close. I'm going to make sure that I do it this time.
DB: Graham, one more question. Have you considered participating in the All-Star Tag Tournament?
Graham nods.
Graham: I have. I've been considering a few partners...and I think i'm coming close to finding the person I want. More on that later, though. I've got to get back to work.
As Dasha and the camera crew back off, Graham pulls the next Young Lion into the ring. The man fights at him, but Graham chains a few suplexes together before locking in an STF on the man. He fights out of it and Graham relents, only to grab his arm and lock it in for an emergency landing. The lion keeps fighting, and Graham lets out a frustrated noise before he switches the Emergency Landing to an arm-trap crossface. Limb after limb, Graham grabs and manipulates, until the Lion taps out. Graham lets him go, and motions for another to enter the ring...
|
|
|
|
Post by Pizza Ant on Apr 9, 2018 20:32:51 GMT
TJ COLE
TJ Cole is screaming at Jerry Bishop while the Hardcases stand at the side.
TJ: I can’t believe you did that! You cost me everything I’ve been working towards!
TJ calms down and touches Jerry’s shoulder.
TJ: You cost me my crown, Jerry. But I believe in second chances. So I’m going to give you a second chance.
TJ turns to the camera.
TJ: Hello Mr. Houston! It is with my great pleasure that I announce that the Friendmigos are interested in entering the All-Star Tag Team Classic with not just one but two teams. The Hardcases will represent the Friendmigos.. and Jerry and I will represent the Friendmigos.
Jerry mouths “we are?”.
TJ: And yes, I notice that I’m working double duty then. So I propose that you take me out of that main event and then I can focus on getting those tag team titles. Ciao!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 10, 2018 10:36:37 GMT
The scene opens outdoors, at night, with a small crowd of people piled up smoking, drinking, vaping, whatever outside of a small venue in Ohio. The marquee of the place reads "THY ART IS MURDER", and as we pan down and around, we see Nick Jameson standing on the side walk, wearing a black jacket over a Cattle Decapitation t-shirt. Jameson has cuts and bandages on his face, but he also has a smile on.
Nick Jameson:
I'm going to take a minute away from my night here to address all the idiots out there that tried to count me out, and then I'm going to get down to the next order of business.
First of all, fuck everybody that thought one of those other guys were going to walk out with that belt at Temple of Doom. When I got to this promotion, they looked at me and they thought I'd just be some hardcore reject, fresh meat for the grinder that was Edward Dessius or Justice Legal or any of these other fuck all nobodies, but now they are starting to get the picture.
I had to get blown to shit, but I've got a belt and I'm going to show everybody how a real Hardcore champion conducts himself. I'm going to be a model God damn champion, as if this place even deserves it. But I've got bigger ambitions.
In life, in this business, it's not about what you did, it's about what you're going to do. Most of these assholes in Freedom Pro don't understand that. You see, I'm here in this crowd, a champion of wrestling, and there ain't nobody who knows who the fuck I am or gives a shit. All of you guys, you go around dropping acronyms of big name promotions, trying to live off of what you did (which probably wasn't shit, really), and you think you're some kind of big name, but who's got the belt? Is it some kind from NXT or NJPW or ROH or, fuck, DUBYA-DUBYA-EEEE?
It's me, motherfuckers.
And that brings me to James Saturn.
James, I beat you, I bloodied you, and out classed you for 40 minutes, and you score a little roll up and want to act like you're on my level. Well, now the title's on the line, and your life? It's in serious jeopardy now. You've pissed me off now, and now I've got something much bigger to prove. As the Hardcore champion, I'm awarded no advantages, no quarter, and I've got to prove myself night in and night out. You did good, you hung in there and scored a lucky pinfall over one of the best in this company, but it's not going to change your place around here. Enjoy your 15 seconds of fame now, enjoy your spot on the big card, because this is as close as you're probably going to get to championship glory, pal.
Soak it in, and then get the fuck out of my way, because I've got other things to do.
Which brings me to this tag team tournament. There's an opportunity for more gold in my future, to raise my stock even further around here, and I'm going to cease it. But... there's a caveat, of course. I need a partner. And of all of the men I've faced here so far, and I use that term "men" lightly, there's one that's earned a small grain of respect from "The White Devil". That man is Graham Baker, hard as it is to say. I don't like Graham. I don't like his style, I don't like him personally. But Graham can take a beating... he can't get the job done, but he puts it all on the line. He's one of the only guys who even attempts to work as hard as I do around here. And I know he has something to prove, as well.
So, Graham, how about it? How about you join forces with a guy who actually knows how to win a match and let's get a shot at some gold? What do you say? Ball's in your court, fuckboy. Let's wreck shit.
Jameson turns and heads back into the venue as this promo comes to an end.
|
|
|
|
Post by Saturn on Apr 10, 2018 14:38:23 GMT
The camera opens in the daytime, James Saturn inspecting the exact spot Jameson had stood the night before, James wears a a bit of a smirk and his left is heavily bandaged up.
"I woke up this morning and Jim Houston told me he wanted me in a match against Nick Jameson at the all star tag team championship, of course I said yes. Jameson talks a lot of shit for the guy who lost the match. I lasted 40 minutes in there with him and I came out the better man, I beat the "white devil", "the Sexecutioner".
As he says Jameson nicknames Saturn exaggerates everything, he does his best impression of Jameson.
"But those nicknames, those are the problem, you imagine yourself as an epic brutal warrior, a guy the ladies adore.... But you're neither. You're an average wrestler who lets his ambitions, his ego get to deep into his matches. Then he loses, and it repeats and you never learn, you just keep doing the same thing cause once in a while you score a win, then you act like you're real hot shit and you ego only grows bigger."
James stare right into the camera showing off his left arm.
"You fucked up my arm real bad, and when I get back in the ring I'll be sure to return the favor. Stop talking, start training."
James suddenly loosens up suddenly. And his frown turns to a grin.
"On another note I'd be totally into joining the all star tag team classic, and I'll be looking for a partner, so if you're interested, let me know."
The camera cuts to black
|
|
|
|
Post by The_Aviator_GB on Apr 10, 2018 18:46:27 GMT
Graham Baker's next promo takes place as he organizes his things in the locker room. A camera records him as he unloads his locker and places his things in a duffle bag. He begins speaking without looking to the camera, folding up his ring gear into the duffle bag.
"So, Nick Jameson. Tough motherfucker, one of the most proficient deathmatch and hardcore workers in the world. One bad motherfucker, honestly, and someone who everyone in this promotion should look to for his in-ring work...and little else on top of that. He took me to task in a Hardcore, Falls-Count-Anywhere match, and beat me after I slipped up. He...showed up. We went back and forth the whole fucking time, and I respect Jameson for that. I respect any hardcore worker who can go the distance in a match like that. In my heyday, he'd have fit in right alongside me in CZW...and now he wants to team up with me. Huh."
Graham stops. He looks over his kneepads from the match in New Orleans, with tacks still embedded in the pads themselves. He slowly pulls them out, one by one, as if he's remembering his faltering from the match against MDE.
"Have to admit, I didn't really expect Jameson to reach out to me as a tag team partner. I figured that the mutual respect due to the fact that we both put ourselves out there, more than possibly anyone else in the league, but I didn't expect him to come to me. I'm pretty much one of the biggest babyfaces in FPW, in the wrestling world at large...and Jameson? He's a dick, through and through, but he's incredibly talented. I honestly don't know what to say...wins and gold sound nice, and getting my mind off MDE...well, that would definitely be a plus."
Graham places his kneepads in the duffle bag, and zips the bag up. He pulls his jacket on, and zips that up as well.
"You know what, Jameson? I accept your offer. The two of us...we can do some fucking damage, and I think we might be able to get over our differences just enough to make it through this thing and win some gold. I'll meet you soon to discuss and train about some, uh...standard tag stuff, something i'm sure neither of us are used to, but fuck it. Let's get it done."
Graham is about to leave, when he stops.
"And Jameson? Don't even think about turning on me, or pulling me into some 'ruse' with this. If you do, I promise i'll come for that hardcore belt you have...and i'll fucking win."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2018 10:35:27 GMT
We get a grainy camera phone video here from Nick Jameson, who seems amused by everything that has happened in the last couple of days.
Nick Jameson:
Graham Baker, you've accepted my invitation! How fucking lovely! And being the Hardcore champion, I guess it's only fitting that now I'm going to be wrestling all over this weekend, putting asses in the seats and putting little bitch boys in the hospital. This is going to be the best weekend of my fucking life! And James Saturn, it is going to be an absolute pleasure beating the ever loving shit out of you again and wiping that smug smile off your face, once and for all.
You think you've got me all figured out? You think you're just going to waltz on into Tag Tournament weekend and have your way, walk out with some gold; hell, walk out with a chance at being tag team champion on top of it?
Bitch, please.
I hope you find a partner, so that maybe, just maybe, I get the opportunity to beat your ass twice for being an indignant piece of shit. Saturn, you're flying on a cloud right now because you scored a win you had no idea was going to land you this seemingly golden opportunity. But now, you actually have to back it up. Anybody can get rolled up for three seconds.
Anybody.
And anybody can get lucky once. Unfortunately for you, your luck runs out at the Tag Team Tournament. As for me? My reign of terror moves forward in full force.
And you should be grateful, you ignorant prick. I've been working night in and night out, busting my ass each and every week, and sure, it's all for my gain, but Nick Jameson is the tide that rises all the shitty, rundown ships floating in this sea of fuckery called Freedom Pro. You're coming along for the ride, James, but your ride is going to be a bumpy one, and it ends in tragedy.
As for you, Baker, I'll see you soon. Trust me or not, it doesn't matter. We've got business to take care of. As far as I'm concerned, we can kick the shit out of each other later.
Jameson gives a little wink, and the feed cuts out.
|
|
|
|
Post by Saturn on Apr 11, 2018 14:56:39 GMT
The camera opens on James Saturn sitting in the empty audience with the biggest grin on his face.
"What am I supposed to say? You're good at trash talk, congrats. I mean, nothing you said was entirely untrue. Except for one thing, that rollup I got wasn't lucky, I lasted through forty minutes of torture and was able to dish some out myself. When I pinned you I wasn't trying to catch you off guard and get an easy win, I kicked you and the face and put you down. You had so many opportunities to escape but you didn't. Why do you think that is? Maybe it's cause you just aren't as good as you say you are."
James's grin only grows bigger.
"In fact, the only reason I'm entering the tournament is so that we'll be on equal ground, so if I beat you in the Hardcore title match you won't have any excuses, no (mimicking Jameson) Its not fair, I had to work one more match than him! I don't want you to have any excuses but the truth. That we fought, and I was the better man. That cool? "
Jameson gets up snickering a bit, but as he turns his smirk begins growing into a concerned frown and the camera cuts to black.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 11, 2018 20:35:09 GMT
The camera fades in on Davis Reynolds in his apartment, sat at a desk with generic greetings cards and a pen, scribbling away at one of them. Boone walks in the door from behind, throwing his coat at the back of Davis' head and catching him completely off guard.
DR: You fucking bitch-ass bitch!
KB: It's only 7AM Davis, usually you start small with the language.
DR: You made me ruin my fucking work!
Boone looks over Davis' shoulder to read the card.
KB: "To the Invaders. Fuck you both. Love from Anarchy." And then a big drawing of a heart. Doesn't seem like too much work.
DR: I had a few hours to spare.
KB: And how many of these are you doing?
DR: One for every other team in the All Star Tag Team Classic.
KB: So this is it? No big promo or anything, no telling them how we're gonna destroy them? Just "fuck you" and that's it?
DR: Yep, basically.
KB: You need some more motivation or something?
DR: Nope. I'm satisfied.
KB: Alright.
|
|
|
|
Post by The_Aviator_GB on Apr 11, 2018 22:49:38 GMT
On FPW's website, a strange video plays, with the sound of a projector running as the video cycles through a few images. Drawings of skulls, pictures of graphs and strange historical photographs, similar to the Wyatt Family's black-and-white titantron intro. The shuttering footage stops, with a blurry camera of low quality filming a dark room with a white light shining on a chair. A single lightbulb illuminates the room. Quietly, a woman's voice speaks as a figure goes and sits in the chair, facing away from the camera. Their form is obscured, but they look to be smaller and feminine.
Marcus...Allen...Jones. Winner of the Young Lion's Cup, a tournament that I was...unfortunately, unable to attend due to the conclusion of other events in the same timeframe. I looked forward to the Young Lion's Tournament, but...if I can make up for it now, then why not try? Why not attempt to give myself a shot at what I would've so rightfully gained had I been here? We're both talented competitors-you, to beat every other Young Lion, and me, to make a name for myself on the scene without being involved with any major company until now.
You may be busy the first night of the All-Star Tag League...but on the second, you seem to be...home free. I want you. I want Jim Houston to sanction a match between the two of us. No stipulations, no hardcore wrestling...just basic mat wrestling. You might be excited to face off against a new debut, as you think it might be a free win, but I'll show you a new type of wrestling. I'll show you submissions you've never imagined. I'll show you true pain, and i'll show you what a true master of the ring can do. I intend to make you realize why you're only the winner of the Young Lion's Cup because I wasn't there.
Accept my challenge, Marcus. Have Houston make this match. Accept the inevitability of what will happen when the two of us face.
Accept the unknown.
The voice stops speaking, and the figure turns around, revealing a woman wearing a mask that appears to be the visage of a shattered skull. She reaches up to pull it off, but simply adjusts it, bringing the camera close and blowing a kiss through the mask's shattered jaw before the clip cuts out, ending with the scrawled numbers '6-5-18' and concluding.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2018 17:06:01 GMT
@therealjohnsonfpw tweeted:
WTF? Not even on the tag card? Guess I scared them.
@therealjohnsonfpw tweeted:
Join me at OB Pier 2pm Tag Team Partner Tryouts
Fade In. The wind whips ocean waves against the Ocean Beach pier. There’s a laid back vibe in OB, even more laid back than the rest of San Diego. Jeremiah Johnson, in black jeans and a gray tank top, walks the OB pier; he shuffles his way through the crowd. At the end of the pier there is a small group of people in workout gear. Everyone wants to touch him, no one dares. Johnson stands at the end of the pier, he takes a good look down at the waves, then turns around.
“You’re all here because you think you have what it takes to join me as my tag team partner in FPW. Lord knows that piece of shit McCloud couldn’t provide any kind of support. McCloud is the kind of guy that gets satisfaction from losing. I don’t care if I win or lose, as long as the person on the other side of the ring feels the same pain I feel every time I breathe, then I’m satisfied. I love the sound of bones breaking, cartilage snapping. And somewhere, somewhere deep in the audience, I love the sound of children crying as their heroes expire by my hand. If you aren’t willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen; if that grossed you out, or if you just can’t handle it, then leave.”
A couple people leave the crowd.
“Now who’s up for a little training? Who thinks they have what it takes to go the distance with Jeremiah Johnson?”
A large man, with shoulders the size of volleyballs, and a really hipster twirly mustache, steps up from the crowd. “You think you got what it takes, Mustache Mike?”
Mustache Mike charges Johnson. Johnson gives a back body drop to Mustache Mike, a back body drop over the side of the pier. Mustache Mike falls into the water. “Who else?”
A man, the size of a cruiserweight, steps forward. His hair is sandy blonde and long, but it looks like it’s from the 1970s. “Alright, Partridge Family. You get a turn.”
Partridge Family and Johnson hold their ground. Partridge doesn't move. “Fuck this!” Johnson walks up to Partridge Family. The blonde guy tries to move, but Johnson is too fast, he puts on a Kimora and breaks the guy’s arm; then tosses him over the side of the pier.
A fat guy in a stained shirt yells and charges towards Johnson; he gets drop toed then picked up and thrown over the side of the pier. Several more people try, all defeated with broken bones, all thrown over the side of the pier. Johnson pulls out his phone.
@therealjohnsonfpw tweeted:
No partners yet. I’ll enter by myself.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 12, 2018 17:12:50 GMT
We see a flame. The flame for a candle.
The camera zooms out. Azazel is sitting behind it, cross-legged.
"At FPW & The Temple of Doom, I failed. I failed to win the hardcore championship. But here's where I'm going to give you, Davey Jones, a proposition. You don't have a tag team partner for the tag tournament. And I know we have a mutual respect after our wars in FPW. You're the ying to my yang. And we'll be the most unbeatable tag team in FPW."
The candle goes out.
|
|
|
|
Post by marileeg17 on Apr 12, 2018 17:55:13 GMT
On FPW's website, a strange video plays, with the sound of a projector running as the video cycles through a few images. Drawings of skulls, pictures of graphs and strange historical photographs, similar to the Wyatt Family's black-and-white titantron intro. The shuttering footage stops, with a blurry camera of low quality filming a dark room with a white light shining on a chair. A single lightbulb illuminates the room. Quietly, a woman's voice speaks as a figure goes and sits in the chair, facing away from the camera. Their form is obscured, but they look to be smaller and feminine. Marcus...Allen...Jones. Winner of the Young Lion's Cup, a tournament that I was...unfortunately, unable to attend due to the conclusion of other events in the same timeframe. I looked forward to the Young Lion's Tournament, but...if I can make up for it now, then why not try? Why not attempt to give myself a shot at what I would've so rightfully gained had I been here? We're both talented competitors-you, to beat every other Young Lion, and me, to make a name for myself on the scene without being involved with any major company until now.You may be busy the first night of the All-Star Tag League...but on the second, you seem to be...home free. I want you. I want Jim Houston to sanction a match between the two of us. No stipulations, no hardcore wrestling...just basic mat wrestling. You might be excited to face off against a new debut, as you think it might be a free win, but I'll show you a new type of wrestling. I'll show you submissions you've never imagined. I'll show you true pain, and i'll show you what a true master of the ring can do. I intend to make you realize why you're only the winner of the Young Lion's Cup because I wasn't there.Accept my challenge, Marcus. Have Houston make this match. Accept the inevitability of what will happen when the two of us face.Accept the unknown. The voice stops speaking, and the figure turns around, revealing a woman wearing a mask that appears to be the visage of a shattered skull. She reaches up to pull it off, but simply adjusts it, bringing the camera close and blowing a kiss through the mask's shattered jaw before the clip cuts out, ending with the scrawled numbers '6-5-18' and concluding. MAJ: Elizabeth right? Or is it Black Death? Sorry to expose the whole unknown gimmick thing, but I read your roster page and I must say, I like what I see. I like what I see a lot more than what I can say for most of the guys here, almost all of whom have been begging me to be their partner in the knock-off Dusty Classic. Like seriously Jim, watch the product...Anyway, I'm like a god to them, an idol, a living legend. But none of them are fit to stand in my corner. Well, two of them are but they have no need to enter a meaningless tag team tournament since they are already champions. But you, you intrigue me. And it's almost a shame that we can't be partners. But you don't want that, do you? You want something else. You want to prove your mettle against the real champion in an intergender rasslin' match. I can't blame you, facing me, even in a loss, would be a great way to make a name for yourself. To be the man, you've got to beat the man, and all that nonsense. And I've got to give you props. Unfortunately, I don't wrestle people with XX chromosomes. Oh, don't misunderstand me. It has nothing to do with me being chivalrous or not wanting to hurt a woman. It has nothing to do with this high-level of respect I have for intergender wrestling. But this ain't no Candice and Joey dog-and-pony show. I'm not Andy Kaufman either. Sweetheart, the reason why I won't accept your challenge is because women don't belong in a wrestling ring. Actually, I take that back. I don't have a problem with valets...But as actual wrestlers? I mean come on now, you have to know that no one really wants to see that. It's like the WNBA. No one wants to watch women play basketball when they can watch the men do it 10x better. Women don't belong in this industry, simple as that. So why would I ever wrestle one? Look Lizzy, I respect what you're trying to do here but you're barking up the wrong tree. But, since I respect you stepping up to the plate to challenge me when everyone else is too afraid to, let me help you out. I'll contact James Ellsworth. I hear he does the whole "wrestlin women" thing these days. Even made his own belt for it. So how about we hook you two up for a match and you can beat the living piss out of him and take his title? How does that sound? And since I'm a generous man, I won't even take an agent's cut. I'm happy to do that for ya toots, because the fact of the matter is, you and I in a match is never gonna happen. Come see me when you have more than just a metaphorical pair of grapefruits hanging between your legs. Then we can talk about the two of us mixing it up in the ring. In the meantime, you know where to find me if you want to mix it up outside of the ring, if ya catch my drift.
Marcus winks and walks away, admiring his reflection in the trophy, before the camera stops rolling. |
|
|
|
Post by The_Aviator_GB on Apr 12, 2018 21:51:24 GMT
The response promo from Black Death is much more open, although still filmed in a low quality camera. This time, Black Death sits in her ring gear in a chair in a much brighter room, the state of which is obvious disarray. Elizabeth cracks her neck before she begins speaking, with the camera stuttering every so often as it films her, but the audio coming through clear as day.
To target my gender, Marcus...you must be afraid of me. Your complements on impressing you have little bearing on how I truly feel about you, but you probably already understand that. You probably don't care, either-at the end of the day, you'll watch this video and dismiss me, but let me appeal to the 'masculine' side that you so desire invigoration with. You're one of two things, Marcus-you're either a backwards asshole, or you're afraid of me and afraid of losing your prestige and title to someone in the ring who you think shouldn't even be here. If it's the first one, well, you're welcome to your opinion, but that doesn't mean I accept it. I still want a match with you, and now I want it more, if only to choke the life out of you and feel you go limp or tap out as I tear you limb from limb. You claim you'd love to team, but you know I don't want that...perhaps that could change.
I respect you, Marcus. To go through all that competition was a hell of a feat, but I still want to come for you. I still want to prove i'm better than you, that I would've beaten you, and Baker, and Saturn, and any other poor bastard who got in my way in that tournament. If I don't get it at this show, so be it, but I want it eventually. You claim that I need more than 'metaphorical grapefruits' to face you down, but why would I bother with that when you don't appear to even have the faintest hint of the balls you need to face me? I know you're afraid of me, Marcus. You're hiding behind your own backwards beliefs because you're too scared to face The Black Death in the ring yourself, too scared of your pride being too harmed by losing to someone of the opposite gender, a factor that you know is not only possible, but likely.
Accept my challenge, Marcus. Don't hide behind biases and prejudices, or old ways of thinking. Prove you're the 'best young thing' in Freedom Pro Wrestling against someone who hasn't had a chance to prove themselves yet. Enter a ring to me, face down the Creeping Death, the Chronic Illness, the Execution. Someone like you taking my spot in this promotion, saying that you're the best as you have...it makes me sick. I want you to feel that sickness too.
I want you here. I want you now. And if you don't accept my challenge...i'll make sure Jim Houston knows how much this match is worth to me, and I'll go to every person in the upper echelon of FPW and make sure it happens.
Save your pride, Marcus. I'll see you at the second night of the All-Star Tag Team Classic.
Elizabeth pulls her mask off, looking in the camera and giggling, before the footage cuts short, leaving another scrawl with the date and the words 'accept' scrawled below it.
|
|
