PPV 1 promo card

[Pizza Ant]

Card for PPV 1
"Enter Sandman"
October 15th, 2017
Chicago, IL
Odeum Expo Center

CARD SUBJECT TO CHANGE:

Azazel vs Trailblazer w/The Mad Scientist

Tag Team Gauntlet: Anarchy vs Sound & Fury vs Zeke & Erick Skaar vs The Sons of Cerberus w/ Lecter Manson

Elimination Tag: Sabre & The Hardcases vs Jerry Bishop, Matt Dwyer, & Azrael 

Freja's Career On the Line: Freja vs Athena Dai

Hardcore Best of 5 Series Match #1 - No Holds Barred: Justice Legal vs Edward Dessius

#1 Contenders Match for FPW World Championship: Clutch McCloud vs Jeremiah Johnson

FPW World Championship 2 Out of 3 Falls Match: Adam Thompson vs Marcus Allen Jones

---

If you want to write a match, please let me know. Also, if you have any ideas for special gear or entrances, message me. I want PPVs to be special.

[Deleted]

The segment starts with Dasha knocking on a boiler room's door. She's as confused as all of us, then we hear a loud voice booming from inside the boiler room.

?: Who's there? If it ain't Dasha, then fuc---Dasha opens the door and enters. Well hello there Miss Dasha. How are you?

Dasha: Stop this Dessius. You're legit creeping me out. And ugh, why are you in a Boiler Room? Wait, stop, don't answer that. I'm here to ask you a few questions about Justice Legal then leave. You okay with that?

Dessius: Yeah, I am. Ask me any questions, my precious Dasha.

Dasha: shudders So...uh, at the upcoming PPV, Enter Sandman, you're going to start your best of five series with Justice Legal for the chance to become the inaugural Hardcore Champion. What are your feelings right now? Are you afraid, anxious or excited?

Dessius: You know Dasha, I don't feel any of those emotions right now. But I do feel an emotion, I feel...love.

Dasha: Wha---

Dessius grabs Dasha and forcibly kisses her. She starts flailing, unable to do anything. When Dessius finally lets go Dasha is out of breath. Dessius smiles, then kisses her once more. This time Dasha doesn't try to stop him, seemingly unwilling to even try. When Dessius lets go, he leaves Dasha on the floor. Dasha wipes her lips with her hand in disgust. The segment ends with Dasha fuming.

[Jim Houston]

The Mad Scientist stands in front of a camera, a mad glint in his eye and an inability to stand still very clear. He keeps glancing down at a piece of paper held in his right hand.

TMS: Here it is... yes... here it is. Finally, after so many years, after so much time. Finally, my creation... my Trailblazer... will be revealed to the entire world. A match... a real, actual wrestling match against a real, actual wrestler in a real, actual wrestling promotion. Finally my genius will be recognised. All of the people who laughed at me, derided me, shunned me for so long, they will finally see how capable, how brilliant I am and how unstoppable my Trailblazer is. Finally he shall be unleashed and he will never be stopped. 100 matches. 200 matches. 500 matches. 1000 matches. It does not matter how many. He will never lose. Never be defeated. My Trailblazer will blaze a trail so strong, so powerful, that I will finally be recognised as the greatest genius in the history of mankind. No one has done what I have done. No one but God himself has created life. And I... I have created a life so powerful that one day he himself will be considered a God. And I... I will be the creator of the God, the most powerful, the most revered, the most feared... I will be above even the great Creator Himself.

The Mad Scientist moves and the camera follows. He walks over to a table covered with a white sheet. Under the table is the rough shape of a body. The Mad Scientist lifts the sheet and we catch a brief glimpse of a heavily muscled arm. He moves and lifts another part of the sheet and we catch a brief glimpse of a large, bald head. Finally he stands, staring down at he face of Trailblazer, which remains mostly hidden from the camera.

TMS: All those years ago... when Andre was defeated, I almost lost faith. Faith in myself, faith in wrestling, faith in the entire world. But now... you... my greatest creation... you shall restore that faith. And when you are finished... Azazel... you will be welcome to return here with me to be reprogrammed. To be given the gift of survival in this new world, the new world created by my creation and its glorious creator. Azazel... I apologise for the savagery about to befall you. I ensure you it is not personal. It is simply that you stand before Trailblazer as his first public test, the first time he stands in front of cameras and is seen around the world. He... I... must make an impression. And you... you must do as all others will finally do when confronted by my new generation of creations... you must fall.

[Deleted]

Ryan Oakes' "We Will Win" starts playing over a black screen. The solid flow of the spoken word rap gets a boost from background piano chords. A sun appears, menacingly large, red; the silhouette of a rocky dirt road is dwarfed. A shadowy silhouette runs up the road; the silhouette shines with sweat.

As the first verse of the piece carries on through beats, the scene changes with fades in between. Jeremiah Johnson punches a heavy bag relentlessly; he nails a speed bag with perfect precision; he lifts weights for a farmer's walk across green turf; he includes some kicks against the heavy bag; he snarls while hitting the speed bag; he walks the farmer's walk.

The chorus of the song starts. The man with the magnificent mind starts to show significant wear and tear through his workouts; he leans against the heavy bag; he winces while slowly punching the speed bag; he drops the weights and lets out and inaudible yell after the farmer's walk; he leans on his hands and knees, a tired silhouette eaten by the sun.

The next verse of the song starts. The man that fought a bear and lived to tell the tale gets up from his knees; he gets up from the heavy bag; he switches to single arm drills on the speed bag; he loads more weight on to the ez curl bar.

The song starts to fade. The last scene is Jeremiah Johnson looking proudly at a U.S. Flag in the sunset. The tape stops. The camera pulls back to reveal Jeremiah Johnson dressed in old jungle boots, blue jeans; and a shirt that he bought at the DMZ of Korea; the shirt is an anime chibi version of a North Korean Soldier and South Korean Soldier. Both are a bit too happy to be there; just like Johnson seems.

Jeremiah Johnson stands in a gymnasium full of United States Marines. The Marines are dressed in their dessert digital BTUs. One Marine is not. Johnson holds a corded mic as he looks out to the audience. "That's what it's like for me every day. I get up and train. I go to work and train. I come home and train. And I couldn't get that discipline anywhere else but here in the Marine Corps. And you'll get that training too if you remember what I like to call the three B's."

Johnson clicks a hidden clicker in his pocket; the screen that had his video paused turns into a PowerPoint presentation. The B's appear as Johnson talks about them. "The first B is Be Respectful. What's the usual saying? 'Respect is earned, not given?' Well if you give respect first then you'll notice that a lot of people give respect back. Take my MMA opponents. If I didn't respect what they could do in the cage, then I wouldn't have won so many fights. Now sometimes you won't get the respect you deserve, like when Marcus Alan Jones decided to do a Reddit AMA instead of help me out in a tag match. Now Being Respectful does translate to being polite, but it doesn't translate to being nice. That's where the second B comes in."

The slide changes. "Be Aware. Now I know a lot of you are already conditioned for this. I remember coming back from my first deployment and being very aware of my surroundings," some Marines smile, "In fact there was one time where I came back and, I'm sure this has happened to a few of you, you come back from deployment and see some trash in the middle of the road; someone's tossed out some fast food or a plastic bag or something and you cross over to the other side of the street," some Marines grunt with laughter, some give a thousand yard stare, "so Being Aware works. Sometimes too well. But if we aren't aware of what happens then people like Clutch McCloud get the better of us. I'm obviously a better fighter than Clutch, but when it's three on one there's little chance of me actually beating them. I was never trained for a three on one scenario. I'm just starting to understand all the rules of the tag team matches. What I'm best at is a one on one situation, and that's where I have McCloud at when the Pay Per View comes in to play. I had to Be Aware of my situation at all times when I was fighting Clutch and company; what I didn't have to be was nice. You never have to be nice. When you're aware of the situation and being nice is the right thing to do then of course, do that. But nice guys finish last has been ingrained in everyone's head. If you tell it to a person once then it's a joke; twice and it's a pun; three times and it's the truth. Don't be afraid to not be nice all the time. That ties in to the last Be."

The slide changes. "Be Aggressive. It's what the cheerleaders in high school always yelled about. It's true, not only on the football field, or in the cage, or in the squared circle. Be Aggressive in everything you do. You've got a grandma in a nursing home that you haven't seen in a year? Be Aggressive with your visits. I'm not saying go out and punch your granny; I'm saying visit her relentlessly; visit her so much that she tells you to stop. Why? What's the one thing that people always say when someone passes away? 'I wish we'd spent more time together.' Be Aggressive with your workouts. You know there's always that guy that goes to the gym to just sit on the leg extension machine. He's just sitting there looking at who knows what," Marines grunt, the energy shifts, "If you're that guy, then stop going to the gym when I'm there. I hate the energy of someone not working out, or worse yet, giving a half-assed workout. If that guy knew about the three B's then he wouldn't be watching his Game Grumps or whatever he's watching, WhatCulture vids or something like that. The point is, if this guy was Being Aggressive during his workouts then he wouldn't just be sitting there. I've got a number one contender match coming up against Clutch McCloud. You think I'm slacking of on my workout? The video package we just watched was made from footage we shot yesterday. In fact, I'll do a quick plug here, if you want to subscribe to my workout network then it's only five dollars a month. Who's already subscribed to the Healthy Body Healthy Minds streaming service?" A lot of Marines grunt and raise their hands, not as much as Johnson knows use the service, "Okay, now who's not subscribed to the service but still uses it through a friend?" A few more Marines grunt, "And who just downloads the videos?" A few Marines grunt ashamedly, "That's alright. I'm not gonna tell your Gunny."

The slide changes. "So the three B's of success. Be Respectful. Be Aware. Be Aggressive. I'm use these in everything I do in life. Now people are going to go around and make fun of you for having a philosophy. That's fine. They're the ones who aren't going to get stronger; they're the ones who are trying to hold other people down on their level; they're the ones who don't want to change themselves for the better. Be Respectful to them but Be Aware of who they are; and Be Aggressive in life and everything you do. Marcus Jones is a perfect example. He wants to hold me back, why? Because he could be champion soon. And he knows that if we ever meet in the ring one on one, then he'll not only be out-fought; but out-smarted. He can't handle failing. Now here's another piece of advice. Failure is learning. I know you're in the military and 'Failure is not an option.' is repeated over and over again. But you will fail in other aspects of your life. You might fail at a relationship; fail at your Physical Fitness Test; fail a Uniform Inspection. Those aren't setbacks; they might seem like setbacks, and they will be if you let them; but learn from them. Be Aggressive in your learning. This time, I'm going to forgo a relationship and just be friends with benefits; this time, I'm going to train harder than ever to beat that PFT-Wait, it's a Physical Readiness test now haha, showing my age. This time, I'm going to measure everything, makes sure my creases are pressed, make sure the dry cleaners put on my ribbons and medals the right way; Be Aggressive. Be Respectful, 'Excuse me ma'am, this ribbon isn't in the right spot,' That's an example of Being Respectful AND Being Aware. So Be Respectful, Be Aware and Be Aggressive. Now I have time to field about three questions."

A Marine in glasses stands up. "You there, with the portholes." The Marine smiles, "Corporal Johnson, Charlie Company," the fellow Marines in his company let out grunts and kills, "Yes, sir, I was wondering if you're ready for your match against Clutch McCloud?"

Johnson leans to one side and smiles, "Clutch McCloud. Now I'm going to Be Respectful and call him by his wrestling name. Remember that I wasn't pinned in our last match. In fact I'd say I was victorious in my debut match; buuuut, history books are going to say different so I'll eat a loss and own up to it. I have to focus on Clutch and his weaselly little manager. I had the upper hand most of the match. I could have won. But I know my fans, you guys, wouldn't want Marcus to get the pin that I earned. Next question."

"PFC McMullen, Echo Company, I was wondering about why you don't broadcast more of your military presence?"

"You know, it's funny. A guy makes a movie and goes to Boot Camp for a week and makes a living off of being called a Marine. I go to Boot Camp for 3 months, Marine Combat Training for a month, MOS school for 3 months; Iraq for six months, Okinawa for 2 years and sacrifice 4 years of my life, but I don't exploit my time in service for money. I think it's just that, I don't think I should exploit my service. I'll throw nods to it, The DD214, the EAS. I might even design a shirt with the flag on it. But I fell uncomfortable, I guess you could say, exploiting my service. I've got time for one more question."

"Lance Corporal Wagner, Echo Company, do you enjoy MMA or Professional Wrestling more?"

Johnson looks down at the floor and smiles, "Well right now I enjoy professional wrestling, because that's what I'm training for. Of course, I wouldn't have a professional wrestling career without MMA. So I enjoy them both equally, though I'd have to say that I'm having a blast in professional wrestling. I mean Marcus Allan Jones isn't like any other opponent I've faced; Clutch McCloud would probably die in an MMA ring, he's a talented wrestler, but come on, let's be real. There's a lot more psychology that goes into a professional wrestling match than an MMA match. Your opponent can knock you out, submit you, get a count out over you, disqualify you or even disqualify themselves to hurt you. In MMA you train for knockouts and submissions. I can honestly say that I enjoy the psychology in professional wrestling more than in the cage. Alright, thank you for your time. And now, for your viewing pleasure, here are the former San Diego Charge- oh wait, the Las Vegas Chargers Cheerleaders."

Cheerleaders run out on to floor, "Be Aggressive. Be Be Aggressive."

Jeremiah Johnson takes his leave of the floor. He saunters over to Nick Leeds waiting backstage. "What's next?" asks the man with magnificent mind.

Leeds checks his phone, "Signatures for 2-3 hours. Then I'll drive you to, what's this address you gave me?"

Johnson doesn't have to look at the address to know, "That's the nursing home where my grandma is staying."

Fade to black.

[Deleted]

Azazel sits in an abandoned factory. A conveyor belt keeps moving next to him carrying different parts. He smokes a cigarette and looks at the camera.

Azazel: A man who chains himself like a hound. A woman who claims to be the queen of solid water. A nobody. That's what you were giving me, Jimmy. So I've finally decided to take things upon my own hands. You have the Jeremiah Johnsons, the Fallen Angels and you give me these scum. But most of all, you forgot that you have an android that might be the best fighter man could give me. Tsk tsk tsk. I'm dissapointed Houston.

Azazel throws the cigarette aside and steps close to the conveyor belt as something bigger starts emerging from it.

Azazel: You know, I like your spunk Scientist. I'm appaled that you think this is your pathetic creation's battle to win.

Azazel chuckles as a huge robotic figure emerges from the conveyor belt.

Azazel: You really must be mad.

Azazel jumps on the conveyor belt and delivers the Night on the giant robot, shattering it to pieces. He gets up and straightens his suite.

Azazel: The problem with your calculations, Scientist, is that I'm no ordinary man. Your trash won't be wrestling at Enter Sandman. Your trash will be wrestling the Sandman himself.

He squats down and looks at the broken parts of the robot. He snaps his fingers and they start burning.

Azazel: There's so much more to come. A trail will blaze. And it's going to begin with your Trailblazer. Enjoy the Night, it's going to be long and cold.

Azazel looks at his shadow on the wall next to him, looking like something totally inhumane. He smirks at it and leaves while the shadow remains at the same spot, staring at the emptiness.

[veggieleezy]

*The camera comes up on Jerry Bishop standing at his locker, facing away from us and propping himself against the wall with his hands. He's wearing his ring gear, but still has his theater-masks jacket on, as if he's unsure if he should take it off.*

JB: My old friend returns out of nowhere. Another masked hero rises to face the threats here in FPW. Another masked hero who I consider my... friend. And now we're facing off against a new force of evil...

*Bishop slams the locker with his fist.*

JB: Not here. Not again.

*Bishop turns around, showing himself in full ring gear, domino mask firmly in place.*

JB: I won't let darkness consume Freedom Pro Wrestling. With Matt back at my side, and the Angels themselves in our corner, for once, just this once, maybe good will prevail.

*Bishop opens his locker to show a picture of himself and his League of Friendmigos allies, Super Che Jr., "Missy" the masked woman, Matt Dwyer, and TJ Cole.*

JB: I know I can't live in the past anymore. I need to move forward. And with this match, I might just be able to do that. I might just be able to prove I have earned my place here. That I have earned wearing this mask. That I have earned the right to call myself a hero.

*Bishop reaches into his locker and pulls out a handful of his grandmother's recipe Chex Mix and pops it in his mouth.*

JB: TJ, Che, Missy, wherever you are, Matt was right. I'm gonna do you guys proud. I'm gonna go out there and show the Freedom Fighters that good will always win out in the end. I'm gonna show them that the Jester is not to be taken lightly. I'm gonna show Sabre and the Hardcases why the Jester always gets the Last Laugh.

*Bishop swings his locker closed and heads to the ring. As he swings the locker door, though, the door bounces and remains open. The camera zooms in on a spare domino mask in Bishop's locker, but before it can fade out, Jerry grabs the camera and tilts it up towards him.*

JB: Oh, and Azazel? Way to steal my color scheme.

*Bishop walks off as the camera regains focus on the mask and fades out*

[Deleted]

We fade into a hospital’s reception, barren except for a small number of patients and staff members. Around the corner walks Kassius Boone, having just come out of a check up after getting his shit absolutely kicked in by Cannibal. Still nursing his wounded body and pride he walks for the automatic door, but stops before he walks through. He turns and stares to the counter at a man unfamilliar from the back who appears to be hitting on a receptionist.

?: So then, you happen to be free anytime soon? Friday night maybe?

R: No, sorry... I'm working friday... Weekend too.

?: Ya'know, usually I get the "I already have a boyfriend" let-down, this one's fresh.

Boone walks up to the counter, a little bit pissed and firmly places a hand on the man's shoulder.

KB: So what exactly are you doing here then buddy?

The man turns around to face his large and intimidating best friend, and we see none other than Davis Reynolds himself.

DR: Well you know how it is Kassius, I just felt like coming down here to the hospital and continuing my streak of being turned down by every woman of God's green fucking Earth. What 'bout you?

KB: Making sure Cannibal didn't break my fucking ribs.

DR: And did he?

KB: No.

DR: And do you wanna break his?

KB: I like to think that one day you'll stop asking dumb questions Dave.

Davis beams a massive fucking grin and starts walking fast toward the doors, stopping only to shout back at Kassius.

DR: That's the fucking spirit, lets GO!

We cut outside to the pair of them climbing into Davis' old decrepit car, bought second-hand from a hippy. Despite his best efforts to scrape off all that peppy fucking paint Davis has been unable to fit it to his whole theme. He just about deals with it.

KB: Davis, we can't just walk into the fight and hope like we did last time, we'll get our asses handed to us. We need a better plan, or training or some shit.

DR: Look in the back.

Kassius does.

KB: Brass knuckles, baseball bats, a fucking claw hammer? Dude, I told you, I'm not robbing a fucking bank with you ever again!

DR: We're not robbing a fucking bank again Kassius! I know a place. We goin' to a fucking fighting ring!

KB: I just got out of the hospital. One day you're gonna get me fucking killed.

DR: Sounds like a yes from me, let's fucking rock!

Davis turns the ignition, and the two ride slowly off into the sunset.

[Jim Houston]

A camera shakes for a moment as a Swiss voice can be heard behind it.

TMS: Is this... yes... it seems about.... Excellent.

The Mad Scientist emerges from behind the camera and stands facing it, looking a little awkward.

TMS: Freedom Pro Wrestling... I have read the print in the contract you sent for me, and I note that I am expected to do these little talks into a camera every now and again. So here we begin. I am called to do this as I believe my creation... my Trailblazer... his opponent has begun to speak to me, to him. Well Azazel, your time to face my Trailblazer is close at hand, and I shall not yet be revealing him to you. However, I shall respond to your words. Your words suggest to me that you wish to make this match personal, that you wish to rile me, to make my creation angry. I'm afraid that you will be sorely disappointed when the time comes. My Trailblazer has no emotions, no feelings. He can be neither happy nor sad, neither nervous nor arrogant, neither calm nor angry. He is little more than a machine, programmed to complete a task. His task is very simple in his match with you. It is to win and to showcase to the world that I have indeed built the perfect wrestler. Azazel... you seem to be a man concerned with supernatural trickery, with intimidation through sleight of hand. My Trailblazer is a creation of pure science. Supernatural trickery cannot affect him and cannot stop him from doing the job he was programmed to do. At Enter Sandman, my Trailblazer may be facing you, may be facing the Sandman or may be facing the great Andre the Giant, but it will not matter. All I need to do is to touch a button and he will executes his programming and he will begin to blaze the trail for which he was created. And you, Azazel, will be the first man to not just see my Trailblazer, but to experience him in all his astounding glory.

The Mad Scientist steps towards the camera, which moves and turns upwards towards the ceiling, catching the briefest glimpse of something metallic against the wall before it turns off.