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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:01:33 GMT
Dark Match Bum Fight Battle Royal Writer: The Commish
Walkways begin to fill expectant of what New Blood Wrestling has in store this week. Several people – all men except for a large woman nearing 20 stones – occupy the ring. Some have brought weapons in what appears to be on the precipice of an all-out brawl. Before anything can break loose, the sound system blares “We the People” by A Tribe Called Quest. This fanfare brings Commish Lamarche in his ringmaster’s gear and microphone at his thigh.
Commish: Cut the music!
His tune cuts bringing hundreds of eyes upon him.
Commish: All right… Now tonight is a #1 Contendership battle royal. We bring you signees from all across this great city. Introducing as they stand: Eagle eye the blind… The Great Stevo… Alexander that damned Canuck. And he brought a hockey stick, how ‘bout that! The "Biographer" Vincent Walker… Fat Lucy the thigh crusher… a conundrum named Sphinx, all right – all right, man, keep ya pants on! The OG of New Blood… Grampa Mayhem! Yeah, that’s our boy! Your hero – and you didn’t even know it til now – Jobber Dave! Rounding this match are Hugo Brightside and Ninja Bob… and now he’s kung-fu fighting. Will you look at that...
Fans jeer and seem at the verge of throwing trash, when the Commissioner brings them back to attention.
Commish: Before we ding that bell. I have the privilege of introducing the new banner of the Bum Fights. Miss UCI, I know many of you here today do. Well I have a special surprise. A familiar face and a rising star cut short. Give it up for Allen… Walker!
The lights bleed blood red as "Enchanted by the Moon" by Amorphis hits the PA system. Allen Walker bursts onto the stage as the lead riff pumps up the crowd. He marches past Lamarche and down to the ramp, sneering the whole way. A kid at the corner goes for a high five – he returns a middle finger without looking in that family’s direction. Fans applaud his entrance into the fray of angry stares. The Commissioner meanwhile heads to the commentary table – when an oncoming train, in the form of Fat Lucy, tackles Allen Walker to the floor. Larmarche has to rush over to his seat and make a hasty recovery, fighting that messy fro to strap on his headset.
Conway: Well, here we go again. Bum Fights are off before the bell.
Commish: Can’t wait one minute. Son of a—
Conway: Ninja Bob taking names with his usual technique… Allen Walker slithering out from that pachyderm, Now working onto her back for only reasons God knows why.
Commish: She won’t mind a bit… Eagle Eye feeling out this matchup… Oh damn!
Conway: Doesn’t seem sporting to cold cock a blind man.
Commish: He’s tougher than you might think, Sara.
Allen Walker claims the first victim by shoving the morbidly obese night walker whom flips over the top rope.
Conway: Gravity does its work, eliminating Lucy.
Commish: Ninja Bob looking good tonight – and there’s that damn Canuck!
Conway: My god, he bashed Bob’s brains in with that Hockey Stick! Hugo Brightside helping Alexander throw Ninja Bob over the ropes. Hugo points to one side—
Commish: He fell for the oldest trick in the book! Bright pushes his momentary friend through the ropes, but ya gotta toss them over the top to get the elimination. Guess his bacon wasn't cooked yet.
Conway: Wow… a Canadian bacon joke?
Commish: All right, my bad. How about John Candy?
Conway: OMG stop...
Eagle Eye slowly gains to his feet with the neighborly hand of Jobber Dave, the Bum Fights masked dogooder. Fans patronize their sportsmanship with wild, forced cheers. Allen Walker goes behind the tall and wiry man in Sphinx. Trapped in a back clutch, the big freak starts shaking his booty and body bumping his aggressor. Laughter ensues as the match’s bully takes charge again – driving Sphinx all-wrong on a spiked German suplex. His limp body gets tossed over with the help of advantageous presence of Hugo Brightside. Walker then clotheslines him in the back the head, taking two out in under five seconds. Vincent was hiding in the corner, but now has the attention of Alexander Kanuck who begins chasing him around the ring with his duckedtaped stick raised high. On a wide turn he collides with sudden surge from Grampa Mayhem. Their weights collide with the septuagenerian getting the better of Alexander.
Conway: That one took his head off!
Mayhem! Mayhem! Mayhem!
Commish: You can never beat the classic… He’s picking up the young Canuck by his beard – and another clothesline! Granddaddy going wild here tonight!
Conway: Mayhem grabs his throat, pushing Alexander to the east side ropes... What a struggle!
Commish: Look out Sara!
At full speed, Vincent runs into this wrestling group, making both topple over the top. He looks equally terrified and surprised at the fruit of his efforts. Allen Walker has since turned his attention to the Great Stevo. Both have a bit of tug-and-go until Allen takes control. His chain wrestling trips Stevo, transitioning then into a single leg crab stretched beyond normal limits. Stevo grips the ring in the vain hope of a way out.
Conway: Allen Walker in pressing his foot on the neck of this match.
Commish: He’s a world-class athlete, Sara. There’s no stopping such ability.
Conway: Doesn’t that seem unsporting?
Commish: Gotta toughen these soft bellies somehow. Allen’s my spurs.
Conway: And what of rumors naming Corey Bull as their new trainer.
Commish: He’s on company payroll. There’s nothing more to it. He has nothing to do with us.
Stevo slapping the floor but Walker refuses to let go. Instead, he wrenches back the more his victim wails. Eagle Eye feels out the ring with Jobber Dave not wanting to take advantage of this blind man. He stops himself several times, much to the chagrin of New Blood’s faithful.
Commish: Hit him, goddammit!
Conway: Fans seem torn at the indecision. Will he break his own code of valor?
Commish: (without headset) Hey! Punch him or you’re fired!
He shouts back, signaling his presence to the only unengaged fighter. With Daredevil awareness, Eagle Eye begins swinging like a wild man. Punch after punch crack up side his face. He bludgeons Jobber Dave into the far turnbuckle and just keeps wailing.
Commish: And Eagle Eye just came alive folks!
Conway: I can’t watch this…
Commish: (without headset) Allen! Break that Bitch!
Walker sneers his direction before taking his game back from the ground. Hobbled to one leg, the Great Stevo goes up into a lifted sit-out pedigree driver. Everyone goes wild as Allen Walker drags his motionless corpse and belly-to-belly suplexes him over the third rope. A weak punch pinches him on the thickest part of his neck. Allen turns to see his brother’s determined stance, readied to battle.
Commish: This blood just got thicker.
Conway: Vincent meets his overbearing brother chest-to-chest. Allen is the Walker's standard, but you can bet every cent you have that Vincent will do what he can to change that.
Commish: Sounds like my brother…
Conway: Oh yeah?
Commish: But hey - look at Eagle Eye! He’s still wailing, even though Jobber Dave slipped away.
Conway: Do you think he knows that’s corner padding?
Commish: Eh, it’s funny. Dave got lit up though. His eye is all swollen to hell and back.
EMTs check on Sphinx at the top of the ring for seems to be a stinger, as the tall man is dazed but walking about. One calls Jobber Dave over – when Allen Walker grabs his waistline and tosses the taller fighter over like garbage. Vincent, not to be ignored, grabs his throat and tries for something like a chokeslam. Allen rolls back and reverses this attempt into a Russian legsweep.
Commish: Nice move there. Gotta love that kid’s ingenuity.
Conway: Eagle Eye finally realizing what’s happened, but he has no idea where the Walker feud continues. He can hear them, no doubt. But he’ll need to do better if he has a chance at winning.
Commish: You’re actually rooting for the blind man?
Conway: Definitely the dark horse tonight.
Commish: I guess... Allen putting his brother into an abdominal stretch. See how he’s applying an extra grip there.
Conway: Yeah, is it for added pressure?
Commish: That’s right, Sara, and it’ll tear ya up bad. He won’t have any range of motion there. Don’t even think about your deuces either… shit’s painful.
Conway: That’s enlightening... Eagle Eye's found them! And he’s taking to Vincent like a heavy bag. Each of those have to be the worst.
Commish: I bet the ole’ boy’s out of breath. Doubt he takes much more before throwing in the towel.
Conway: You know, I think he might have a chance still.
Commish: Go ahead and think that. I'll hedge my bets on something better.
Allen smirks as he lets his brother drop into a heap. He then coaches Eagle Eye into following him. These small clues have the blind man on a rage. Both near the west side ropes. Allen sidesteps, taking a skillful hold of both the knees and shoulders of Eagle Eye – flipping and releasing him over the ropes with an Olympic Slam. And then there were two.
Conway: And so this family feud will end with #1 Contendership for the Bum Fights Title.
Commish: Vincent is barely standing… (without headset) Oh no f-- you don’t!
Conway: Secruity! Captain Pelican has just emerged from the briny deep!
Despite his suspension, Capt. Pelican emerges from under the ring carrying his now infamous fishing spear. He rolls into the ring – somehow unnoticed by both Walkers – and takes aim. Commissioner Lamarche grabs his ankles from the apron. His efforts are not in time though, as his harpoon sails through the air and into the hand of Allen Walker. He rolls out of the ring into the immediate attention of paramedics. The Commish has to be restrained from kicking the downed Capt. Pelican by thick necked security guards. Among them are the Snake Pit, dressed in jeans and New Blood Wrestling T’s, whom are the first to wrench the suspended wrestler into the back kicking and screaming incoherent things. The Commissioner brushes himself off as he and security follow Rattlesnake and Viper. Vincent stands up to find himself all alone. “We the People” sounds as Lamarche can be overheard yelling to “get this goddamn show” started.
Conway: Well folks, it seems this match has not officially ended. However, Commissioner Lamarche has called for a stoppage. With two fighters left and no contender yet decided, it seems the outcome will have to come at a later date. Captain Pelican who interfered tonight was not sanctioned for competition after last week’s debacle. Check New Blood Wrestling online, or find follow us on Twitter for more. This has been Bum Fights, brought to you by Arby’s… letting you know: “We Have The Meats.” Stay tuned for a episode of New Blood Wrestling - live from Madison Square Garden!
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:03:14 GMT
Advertisement 1: Travis McKenna
Big rings by Drake & Future blasts over the speakers to a chorus of boos. Travis McKenna rushes out and hypes himself up on the top of the ramp. He then confidently struts down the ramp and puts his fingers to his lips to shush the crowd. Travis is wearing his ring gear as he does have a match later in the night but he also has a black t-shirt with the NBW logo on it. He steps into the ring and leans over the ropes to shout to the crew. He demands a mic. Once he is handed the mic he begins to speak.
Travis: Hello NBW universe. Your favourite professional wrestler is here. Check the tee, I’m repping the company wherever I go. I appreciate the boo’s, it clearly shows how much you all care about me. I know what you’re all thinking. Why on earth is Travis McKenna here? Why has he came out after that god awful match? I have been sent out by upper management to get the ratings up after that piss poor performance. In all seriousness, I am here to make an announcement. Let’s make this quick I’ve got match preparation to do. Music guy, play that shit.
All of a sudden Father Stretch My Hands by Kanye West blasts over the speakers. A lot of fans look confused as they’ve never heard this music before. Before you know it, new NBW signee Morgan Baker slowly walks out onto the top of the ramp. He walks down the ramp with his fingers in his ears to avoid the crowd noise. He is also wearing his ring gear and has a black t-shirt with the NBW logo on it. He climbs into the ring before giving Travis McKenna a fist bump and be handed a microphone.
Morgan: Allow me to introduce myself, I am Morgan Baker. Like Travis, I am a child of god. You know what that means? It means I am better than all of you. Like Travis said, let’s make this quick. I feel sick being in the presence of these people.
Morgan Baker hands the microphone back to Travis McKenna.
Travis: NBW fans. Please give a round of applause for your newest NBW tag team!
Travis McKenna puts down his microphone. Suddenly, he and Morgan both rip off their NBW shirts to reveal black shirts that say “FEAR OF GOD” on them. Travis smirks at the camera and mouths “better than you” before picking the mic back up.
Travis: We are FEAR OF GOD. We are here to take over New Blood Wrestling. Ripping off the NBW shirt was a method of symbolism. We no longer belong to New Blood Wrestling. We belong to FEAR OF GOD. We are coming for dominance. We are coming for the tag team championship. We are going to make NBW ours. We’re not here to take part, we’re here to fucking take over.
Jumpman by Drake and Future then plays over the speakers as Morgan Baker and Travis McKenna exit the ring and walk up the ramp. Travis McKenna talks shit to the fans while Morgan Baker places his fingers in his ears to block out the crowd noise. The camera then fades to black.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:04:45 GMT
We go backstages to find the reigning NBW Tag Team Champions passing under the curtain. They are quickly joined by the tight-knit pack of the other NBW champions: Cassidy Kaine, KiD DeKaY, and Vandalia, all with their respective belts draped over their shoulders.
Kaine: There you two are. Listen, we’ve come up with a-
Rattlesnake lifts a hand, silencing the world champ.
Rattlesnake: Listen kid. We don’t care what you have to bitch about now. We have more important things to get to. Now get the fu-
The veteran stops mid sentence as he looks to something to the left of the screen. After a second or so, the camera pans to the side, revealing Emmit Kraus. Kraus looks to each of the champions one by one.
Kraus: Greetings, comrades.
The champions are all shocked and slightly on edge, as most are around Kraus.
Kaine: Hey, Emmit. How are you, buddy?
Kraus: Oh, no need for the charade, ol’ sport. I can tell I scare you all.
Viper: Ain’t nothing scares me, son.
Kraus: Ah, well perhaps discomfort is the proper word. Nonetheless, I’ve been made aware of a previous meeting amongst you five in regards to the Originals of the New Blood Wrestling roster having not been featured on last week’s television premier. As you likely know, I was the sole original to have appeared in the ring last Monday. I’m not precisely sure as to why this is so, but it is.
Rattlesnake: What’s your point, freak?
Kraus: I believe I can be of some assistance to you all. You see, I too believe that the complete omission of the- Well, the New Blood Originals, for lack of a better term, was unjust. People such as us have shed their bodily fluid to ensure that Mr. Pryde remained in business. Since I appear to be the favoured among us Originals as I was selected to compete last week, I believe that I could speak with Mr. Pryde and the network executives of Syfy to ensure you have a more opportune position on next week’s card.
Kaine: D’ya actually think you could do that?
Kraus: It would be my pleasure.
DeKaY: Whoa whoa whoa, hold up just a fucking minute. I know you, Kraus. We’ve been in the ring way too many times. You ain’t free. What’s your catch.
Kraus: Oh, there’s no price, dear Frederick. I planned on speaking with Mr. Pryde soon, anyway. This just adds to my agenda. So, are we all in agreement.
Cassidy shakes his head and looks back to the others, all nodding in agreement. Kraus smiles.
Kraus: Good. I shall speak with you all at a later date.
He goes to walk off screen, then stops. He turns back to KiD DeKaY.
Kraus: Oh, and if you’re still worried about a price, dear Frederick, I believe yours will come soon enough.
Kraus lightly slaps KiD’s First Blood championship and smiles a big smile before walking off camera, to the ring for his match. The champions sit in complete silence before Vandalia finally speaks up.
Vandalia: Ese hijo de puta es espeluznante.
Kaine: Yes, he is… Yes he is.
The camera cuts to the ring for Emmit Kraus vs. Leo.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:12:10 GMT
Mya Denton vs Delilah Black Writer: The Commish
Fireworks streak across the arena as red lights flicker. Three letters “N” “B” “W” flash on the big screen bringing the crowd to their feet. Lights then suddenly black out to another roar. “Paint It Black” by Ciara cues its slow drone. Mya Denton walks into view at the ramp to a big pop.
Abbi Stein: It’s ya girl Abbi… let’s get this shit started! First off is that crazy babe… it's Mya Denton!
Mya skips down the ramp to cheers. When she get's to the ring she steps inside after wiping her feet on the apron and then sitting on the middle rope.
Conway: Welcome folks to New Blood Wrestling. We’re kicking this New Year off with all new thresholds in wrestling. Joining me as always are my partners St. Remi and Charlie Hanson.
Remi: How’s it going New York City!
Charlie: Heyo!
Conway: First, we have a self-proclaimed psycho chick, Mya Denton.
Remi: I had a chance to see her work out this week.
Charlie: Oh yeah?
Remi: Not like that Charlie… Mya’s got game. Can’t turn your back on her. She is one of our most creative on offense.
Charlie: Well now I can't wait, partner!
The off putting siren-like wail that begins Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun" fills the arena as the lights turn a shade of purple. There's a brief lull that Chris Cornell's voice shatters, triggering the emergence of Delilah Black from the back. A conceited sneer on her face, she waltzes down the ramp, clad in a long, black velvet robe and a black and purple masquerade mask.
Abbi Stein: And now the specter of… where was it – Galveston… Yeah, yeah it’s Delilah Black!
The raucous boos of the crowd do little to faze her as she ascends the steps at ringside and enters the ring under the bottom rope.
Conway: What about the dark spirit of this match? Who has the best opportunity tonight?
Charlie: Ghosts are spooky – I’ll give it to her!
Remi: Right… I’m not sure yet, Sara. Delilah Black is an enigma to this sport. Not like the unpredictable style of Mya Denton. This one could go ether way.
Conway: Fans already rallying behind Denton. Certainly the makings of another bloody opener.
Remi: And so the seats fill...
In the center of the ring she strips off her mask and robe, handing both to referee Zander Hobbs. He hands them to a set person through the middle rope. Before he can turn, Mya Denton pounces from her corner and tears into Delilah Black with a flurry of disorgaized punches and slaps. A return of stiff punches from Delilah signals the bell. Hobbs backing as far away as possible.
Conway: And we’re off to a sprint to open up. Each fighter throwing heavy strikes – Oh! what a left hand from Denton. She sweeps behind… for a running bulldog.
Charlie: That was killer!
Remi: I can see her being like this all match long. If Delilah Black cannot find a counter for this wiry style, she’s not likely to win out.
Conway: Zander trying to get between them as Denton began slamming her opponent’s head to the mat. A growl scared him back. Now she’s just grinning wide… I don’t know about her.
Charlie: I think I’m starting to like her more.
Remi: Don’t forget to pick up a poster in the lobby. We have autographed ones, Chuck.
Charlie: Already did, Remi!
Conway: Denton pulling Black to her feet – jawbreaker from Delilah Black sends Denton reeling towards the ropes. She recovers and charges…
Charlie: Sky high on that hip toss! And now Black is firmly in control!
Remi: Both back to their feet - one level ground. A nice exchange, don’t you think bud?
Charlie: Oh huge moves back and forth!
Conway: Mya misses on a spinning kick, pulling them apart for a second at least.
Separated by a sweeping distance, they size each other up from one knee. They proceed to a lock up with Delilah Black taking advantage through a headlock. She transitions into a sideways clutch, wherein she gets in a number of heavy kicks to the midsection. Denton breaks from the hold to recover. Black immediately chases her down – she turns in time to see a flying knee…
Conway: Soaring knee strike from Delilah Black! And now the cover!
1!
2!
Charlie: I thought she had it with that absolutely brutal knee… this one’s looking good, guys.
Remi: She’s got powerful strikes. If Black can work over the body, then she’s sure to slow down Mya Denton’s random style. Otherwise, this one will play right into Denton’s hands.
Conway: How would you take her down?
Remi: Just as she is now? Probably controlled clutching while putting strikes to vital areas. Mya Denton is a beast if left uncaged. Although, you can limit her mobility, which is going to level the playing field.
Conway: Much easier said than done with such a wild fighter in your sights, I'm sure.
Remi: Absolutely...
Charlie: Damaging strikes from the Galveston ghost! This one might be over, folks!
This bit of scuffling rolls back to the ground with Delilah Black hopping into a superior guard, pinning all but Denton’s shoulder’s to the mat. After a couple strikes, she leans in and bites her on the nose. Zander tries to pull them apart yet the damage is already done. Small lines of blood spill from Denton’s septum. Still she rises going straight for the jugular of Delilah Black.
Remi: Wow, still a lot of fight left in her. Throwing all she has into the turnbuckle.
Crack!
Charlie: Thunderous chops!
Conway: She is wailing harder than before. Black pinned in the corner… and she’s climbing to the top rope – frankensteiner!
Denton keeps her thighs through the impact, pinning her opponent to the mat.
1!
2!
3—
Conway: And Delilah Black just breaks free. Fans thinking it was a slow count.
Remi: It took Hobbs a minute to get to the ground. I’d say that was a bad one.
Charlie: Denton getting pissed now!
Remi: She’s taking this one to the mat again with guillotine choke… that body scissors only makes it worse for Delilah Black. The ropes probably look miles away from the center.
Conway: Can she hope to break free?
Remi: In this case, only strength or will can break such a hold. There’s no bell or timer to survive. Black has to get free or Denton is likely to her go light outs.
Charlie: I guess she’d… Black out.
Remi: That’s right Charles. Good work pointing that out.
Denton seems to be enjoying this hold as her opponent gasps for air. Delilah expends some energy trying to roll around, but ends up give her back up. This gives extra leverage to the hold as the arms of Mya Denton sink deeper into her blood choke. Black puts her arms up while rocking for some sort advantage. Fan delight in her torment as the hold seems to be wearing down the last of her energy. She begins to fade, prompting Zander Hobbs to make a check of her vitals. He grabs her wrist to a huge pop from the crowd.
Hobbs lets go – and it drops… Twice and the arm droops again… Three times—
Charlie: OMG! Black is breaking free!
Conway: Delilah Black avoids the bell with renewed spirit. What’s she doing?
Remi: She just rolled Mya Denton to the mat! That a pin!
Charlie: Holy Jesus!
Remi: Count it Hobbs!
After blankly staring at them, Zander Hobbs finally slides for the cover. He never reaches one before Denton is forced to break the hold. While scrambling from that misstep, Delilah Black rolls a back elbow right to the forehead.
Conway: Huge strike, and folks, it seems the momentum has swung again.
Remi: Smart mat wrestling by Delilah Black. These fans might hate it, but she just pulled off a technical miracle. Too bad she looks winded after all that. Too much punishment from Mya Denton... this one can't hope to go on much longer.
Conway: It’s fair to say she should have been dead to rights.
Remi: Oh yeah… but that shows some heart from the ghastly fighter.
Charlie: Black hopping the ropes – here we go! – It’s time for The weather Report!
Remi: Bold, hitting a 720 DDT like that… I like it.
Conway: Both look dead after that one. Black sliding over for the cover!
1!
2!
3—
Conway: Up at the last second! Neither wanting to give this one away. What determination!
Remi: I saw this coming, Sara. Denton and Black are tough—
Charlie: How tough is that?
Remi: Tougher than you, that’s for sure. I have no idea who’s coming on top after all this.
Conway: It looks like nuclear fallout. No one is walking away unscathed.
Remi: And the boss man will be pleased, as both were cut open during that move. I think Delilah Black must have landed awkwardly. That’s why I wasn’t a high flyer…
Charlie: To the violence!
Remi: Delilah trying to get a clutch. At this point, you have nothing left, and even the simplest of maneuver becomes impossible. Every muscle resists.
Conway: Kicks to the midsection from Denton.
Remi: She knows the end is near. Oh – a return across chest from Black. These girls aren’t giving up.
Charlie: Head scissors! And it throws Delilah Black to the floor! Here we go!
Conway: Mya charging… it’s too late! – Demented!
Remi: That shining wizard blasting Black head back and hard to floor. The cover!
1!
2!
3!
Abbi Stein: Crazy Mya did guys! Yay.
Conway: No fighter can be ashamed of this effort. Mya Denton just put her division on notice after this big win tonight. Delilah Black was not going down without a fight.
Charlie: 5 Stars! No… 15 stars!
Remi: In a more realistic rating, I’d give them my interest. Definitely not the cleanest of beginnings for either star, but they proved their worth tonight. Any other night and this one could have gone another way.
Charlie: And for the lovesick and obsessed. What a nice love note for Denton’s crush, Farcry.
Remi: I guess so… Hey, uh, commercial time?
Conway: Right… stayed tuned for more action, after these messages.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:15:25 GMT
Advertisement 2: Razzle Dazzle St. Remi: Up next we'll have Joe Smarts and Gray Zee against the...what? Is this for real?! Sara Conway: Yep St. Remi: Let's check-up on, i can't believe i'll be saying those words...The Razzle Dazzlers of Fantazzmagazzles The cameraman was on stand by in front of the team's locker room and slow opens the door Broski: Brother, pass me the ranch sauce. The cameraman slowly backs away and closes the door without being noticed Sara Conway: Wow...
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:19:01 GMT
Tag Match Snake Pit on Commentary The Razzle Dazzlers of Fantazzmagazzles vs “The Big Deal” Gray Zee and Joe Smarts Writer: the Commish
Lights go out. The opening parts of Catgroove play around the arena as the crowd goes crazy. Joe Smarts's voice is also heard throughout the arena.
'From Smartstopiaaaaaaaa, he are the...'
(Crowd joins him)
'World's! Smartest! Man!'
'Joe Smaaaaaaaaaa... OOMPH'
The crowd become concerned, but when the lights come back on, they realise that Joe tripped over his own feet. He gets back up as the main part of Catgroove begins. Ring announcer Abbi Stein looks on disgusted with a microphone swinging at her side.
Joe dances his way down the ramp as the crowd cheers wildly for him. He once again trips over his own feet at mid-ramp. He quickly gets back up. He looks at the apron. He quickly runs towards it to slide under the lower rope, but instead crashes into the apron. He once again gets back up, and makes a wise decision to go up the stairs. Once he gets in the ring, he taps his head to display his 'intelligence'. He goes to the corner and death stares the referee, thinking that's his opponent. Chandra Betts glares back refusing to be intimidated. Joe then jumps onto the apron.
Abbi Stein: There’s Joe I guess… and here’s Gray Zee! The big deal and his girl, Gabriel!
Accompanied by Gabriel Lane, Gray Zee comes out wearing a leather hoodie, he uncovers his face and lifts his arms up. The moment he does that, pyrotechnics explode at both sides like a chain reaction. When he arrives to the ring, he takes the steps, takes off his leather hoodie and enters the ring. Gabriel then finds a seat near the timekeeper, as most by now know the temperament of referee Shandra Betts. Staying out of sight sounds the best option for this matchup - giving a final wave to her man in-ring.
Joe slides back in now that their referee has refocused on the match. Zee and Joe Smarts exchange baffled looks as the lights dim. The Snake Pit – selected as guest commentators – appear from a backstage area. Both men hop the steel barricade without spilling their beers. Rattlesnake and Viper commandeer these open seats while rushing to put on their headsets.
Viper: Shit man, I think we’re late.
Rattlesnake: Who are those guys?
V: Joe Smarts, world’s smartest man and a brick shit house.
R: Cool, who’s coming out now?
V: More fresh meat for the grinder, brother.
R: Damn straight.
“One More Time” by Daft Punk plays for the sudden appearance of The Razzle Dazzlers of Fantazzmagazzles pumping to the tunes. They joins fists before heading straight to the ring. Fans give them a curious uproar at this new team to NBW.
Abbi Stein: Fu… not saying that. Here’s Ricardo Frenches and his Broski Jayden… yay!
V: I think we ran out of paper for that one (gulp). But it’s cool, brother.
R: Dude, those guys are like if Spencer’s was a person.
V: Holy shit, that’s it! Like a Kush ball or something.
Dos members du Razzle Dazzle enter together as the song slows to a mellow rhythm. Cameras cut to a pouting Joe Smarts where it seems Gray Zee has chosen himself as first to enter the match. Neither brother of Fantazzmagazzle matches up to the German’s size, but Broski Jayden is there to meet him head on. Both work towards the center. Joe yells something about not letting the other guy hurt you – accompanied by silly hand gestures – just before referee Chandra Betts calls for the bell.
V: Lock up and a throw down.
R: Way ahead of you (gulp)
V: No way you’re winning this one (gulp) … goddamn that’s some bad piss.
R: I win!
V: Yeah, yeah… hey look, Gray Zee has the broski up into a powerslam.
R: Down he goes. One more, the people cry, and the big man delivers.
V: And a legdrop to top it all off.
1!
R: A pinfall already? Even Grampa Mayhem could kick out of that. And he’s 70!
V: True, so these are the contenders for our belts?
R: Don’t get all jumpy, brother. The German tags in Joe Smarts and lawn darts him.
V: Flying forearm takes the broski down. 50 points – that’s a bullseye.
R: You know that a triple 20 is better?
V: No shit… no wonder that little Scotty beat me last time.
R: I think Joe Smarts just declared himself victor. Bitchy Betts giving him the cold shoulder.
V: Yeah, ain’t she the one that throw a Solo cup in your face?
R: Oh yeah (mumbles "bitch")... Smarts dropping elbows at random spots. Guess he’s got a tactic.
V: One no is going to figure out though. Another pin…
1!
2!
V: And the broski kicks out. His buddy has a hand out.
R: Calling upon the Super-verse—
V: Multiverse, man. Read your cards.
R: Right… he’s waking up the Multiverse with a little dance. And now they’re both dancing.
V: Eyyy muchacho, two more beers! (off headset to a beer guy) No, two each, dumbass.
Joe Smarts marches in place as an 80s style beat commences from the sound system. Broski Jayden tags in his brother from a different mother, Ricardo Frenches, and both do a combination of moves – all ending with Jayden doing the worm through his legs and out of the ring. Joe looks to his corner where the much larger Gray Zee furiously shakes his head “no”.
V: Fans wanted more from razzmatazz, but Betts was about to DQ him.
R: You some after this?
V: Dude, I was thinking that. Coney and fries?
R: Go well with these beer shits. (Off headset) Give me those. And get out of our shot, kid.
V: Joe just broke out into the walking man… and Frenches just gave him a high five.
R: I am not drunk enough for this.
V: You (burp) know it, brother…
Joe then does a disco point asthe music gets funky. Frenches looks to his corner, and on cue, lays Joe out with a spinning lariat kick. He then hits the ropes taking Joe out again with a beautiful arc to his dropkick. Frenches then kips up with a sexy pose for the audience.
V: You following this?
R: Yeah, but not until the German gets back in. All these skinny fat asses.
V: I hear ya… Joe Smarts gets back up. Guess he wants more.
R: You worried about these guys?
V: Two on two, no way brother (coughs and burps). Jayden pointing to the turnbuckle.
R: Frenches (burp) going up like Juventud – shit, Joe dropkicked him out of the air.
V: But he landed on his head. Gonna “X” him or what?
R: The way things are now. One chair shot and they want to give ya cat scan.
V: It ‘s all (throat burp) a bunch of BS, brother.
Gray Zee stomping from his side as Joe crawls his way. Jayden has a closer angle and makes the tag to an outstretched hand. He reaches Joe – but the tag has already been made – leading to a hard clothesline from the German. Zee then shoulder blocks his partner out of the ring.
R: Hey – he just knocked his own teammate out.
V: I like this guy.
R: Me too, brother, but man he’s a chunky monkey.
V: Clothesline from hell! He took the broksi’s head off!
R: You didn’t like it that (burps) not that much, brother.
V: Yeah, but it was still cool.
1!
2!
3—
V: Betts with the slow hand.
R: Why is she still here? Everyone hates her.
V: Look dude, that German has the Brodie up on his shoulders.
R: Bout to jackknife his ass… the hell was that!
V: (reads Sara Conway’s notes) It’s the, uh… Done deal… Oh man, the Done Deal!
R: You see that impact. Another cover.
The sailing body of Joe Smarts suddenly interrupts Betts’s count. He lands on her and his partner, Gray Zee, breaking up the pin. Chandra pushes him off just as Ricardo Frenches enters the fray with a spinning wheel kick to the stoutest German. Joe Smarts and Frenches flee the wrath of Chandra Betts, but devastation lies about the ring with after that bizarre sequence of attacks.
R: Have to admit. I kinda like her when she’s PO’ed.
V: Yeah, she gets this (burp) like shitty look. Black as all hell eyes—
R: And her nose twitches too.
V: Dude, I saw that! Lemme guess, she’s going to make the 10 count now.
R: Classic Betts… Wait, I think Jayden is getting up.
V: Seriously though, we should have this in the bag.
R: If SYFY gives us a shot to keep the belts. (to the crowd) You want us as champs?
V: You know they do (burp), brother. Jayden tags in Frenches with Gray Zee recovering.
R: What are they doing?
V: Taking opposite corners looks like. Think they got something big planned.
R: Two leaping punches. (Reads cheat sheet) That Supe’s Party!… two superman punches.
V: But Zee is still standing. Double superkick!
R: (rustling through sheet) Oh man, that was Young’s Party! Oh baby…
V: (off headset) you aren’t fooling them.
R: (off headset) shut up!
V: Betts gives a stern warning to the broski right as Frenches dives for a cover!
1!
2!
3—
R: How’d he kick out of that?
V: Don’t know, brother, but that was pretty damn cool.
R: They’re gyrating now. Must be time for big fireworks.
V: Betts looks (throat guzzling burp) pissed, but who cares what she thinks?
R: Ricardo picks him up for something cool… Go To (reads paper) I mean, holy shit!
V: (Reads paper too) Between Worlds nails in the coffin – Broski Drop!
R: I think (burp) we got our finish, brother.
V: Nachos?
R: Hell yeah… (sounds of headsets landing on the table)
After a skull-shattering GTS from Ricardo Frenches, Jayden followed with a sick 360⸰ legdrop. Frenches makes the cover. Fans count along – including Joe Smarts who sits on the top rope, fist pumping with every count. Betts shrugs then signals for the stoppage.
Abbi Stein: Guess what, Broskis Jayden and Ricardo won this thing… yay (with hand gestures)!
The Razzle Dazzlers of Fantazzgazzles exeunt ramp left. Gray Zee and his manager recover in the ring, where Joe Smarts is still doing victory laps. Zee catches him mid-route and cuts him down with a clothesline from hell. Both exit with Joe overreacting in the ring. Video then cuts to a commercial behind a “New Blood Wrestling” screen wipe.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:20:00 GMT
Advertisement 3: Brooke Bell
The NBW video wipe cuts their feed to advertisements as their disembodied voice still chatter before fading away. Backstage we go where we find Andre Aquarius standing by. He seems to be getting prepped for action yet again. Just entering the building we can see Brooke Bell still in a tight fitting dress. Coming from behind him Brooke stops when she sees him fixing up her dress before walking towards him.
Brooke: "Hii Andre. How is it going? Good work last week."
Andre: "Ay, same to you, ma. Just keep an eye on Travis this week and things should go a'ight."
She nods her head seeming to be taking his advice seriously no matter how obvious.
Brooke Bell: "He is big and all. But he isn't a real man. I mean you are proof that size doesn't always matter."
Andre: "Yeah, elbows to temples be gettin' the job done. Lay a whoopin' on ol' boy for both of us maybe?"
Brooke: "Will do. Bye."
Waving as she walks away, biting her lip as she goes as the show continues.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:24:22 GMT
First Blood Division Match Leo vs Emmit Kraus Writer: Masatarou
Abbi Stein: The following contest is a first blood division match up!
The camera pans to the full Bloody Monday arena, flying along the crowd, chanting and holding signs for various NBW wrestlers. The camera changes to the stage as "Porter Robinson & Madeon - Shelter" hits. The lights go out and the spotlight is on Leo standing at the entrance with his orange hoodie hiding his face. "And it's long forward, trust in me" belts as Leo pulls up his hood revealing a smiling face making the crowd chant "Leo!".
Abbi Stein: On his way to the ring, standing at five feet eight inches and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds…LEEEEEOOOOO!!!
He walks down the ramp and waits for his opponent to come out.
Sara Conway: You have to wonder how this competitor is going to fare in a first blood division match up!
St. Remi: (chuckles) Maybe he can look to The Life Spirit to guide him. I got this guy going down tonight.
Charlie Hanson: Don’t count him out just yet Remi, The Life Spirit could guide him yet!
The camera pans back to the stage once more as Emmit Kraus steps out and “Getting Away With Murder” plays him out. As the music cuts, he stops at the edge of the ramp and looks out among the crowd. He smirks as the music picks up and he continues walking to the ring.
Abbi Stein: Making his way to the ring, from Cape May, New Jersey, standing at five foot ten and weighing two hundred five pounds…EMMIT KRAAAAAAUS!
Kraus steps onto the apron and climbs in, waiting now for the match to begin.
St. Remi: (chuckling again) I could take him in this match.
Charlie Hanson: You’re not in the match, Leo is!
St. Remi: I know that shit for brains!
Sara Conway: I’ve heard rumors surrounding Kraus…I have a feeling he’s going to enjoy this type of match up.
Charlie Hanson: Here comes our esteemed owner Vincent Pryde, his bodyguard Onslaught alongside him, here to witness the debauchery! Let’s get it started!
The referee signals for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The two competitors circle the ring as the crowd starts to heat up. Pryde watches stoically from the stage, waiting for the blood to spill. Emmit dives in with a gut kick, taking Leo off guard, and then drives his forearm hard into his back. He pushes him against the ropes, but Leo uses the momentum and holds on, pushing Kraus away from him as he grips the ropes. Kraus rolls backwards and back to his feet, but Leo is already diving in with a clothesline that drives both men to the mat. Leo rolls to his feet and climbs the second rope.
Charlie Hanson: Leo going high! Fly Spirit, fly!
But Kraus is quick back to his feet and moves towards the turnbuckle, spilling Leo to the mat with a forearm drag. He takes his spot on the top rope and leaps off, but Leo rolls out of the way at the last moment, sending Kraus splashing to the mat himself. Kraus rolls around holding his stomach, but Leo gives him no time to recover as he drags him to his feet. A gut kick and Leo goes for a rollever powerbomb…but Kraus stops him and drives his head down, clinching it between his knees…as he starts to deliver punch after punch to Leo!
St. Remi: That’s what I like to see from the competitors in these kind of match ups! Killer instinct! Kraus definitely possesses it!
Sara Conway: He looks to be going for blood already!
Charlie Hanson: He knows what he has to do to win! That’s why they’re all here!
Kraus brings his fist down hard and harder each time, but as he winds up for what looks like an elbow to the head, Leo catches his arms with his legs and brings him over into the pin…but the referee doesn’t go for it and Leo releases it, shaking the stars off.
Charlie Hanson: He remembered he has to make his opponent bleed first!
St. Remi: Rookie mistake, though I’d wager he wouldn’t make it again!
Leo looks around for anything he can use against his opponent…but decides his boot is the best method and brings it soaring towards Kraus’ face…but Emmit ducks away at the last second and uses Leo’s own momentum to drop him with a reverse suplex…but Leo rolls through and lands on his feet behind Kraus. Kraus spends around right into an enziguiri that sends him to a kneeled over position. Leo goes up to the second turnbuckle again and points at Kraus before delivering a dropkick right to his head, sending him sprawling to the mat, clutching his face!
Sara Conway: Is it...is he bleeding?
Charlie Hanson: I don’t…I can’t see!
St. Remi: Blood! Blood! Blood!
Pryde is watching the ring with a devilish grin on his face…but Kraus moves his hands to reveal he isn’t bleeding! Leo isn’t disheartened though, and lifts Emmit back to a kneeling position. He starts delivering boots to the chest, moving his way up towards his head…but Kraus catches his foot and gets to his feet, pulling him in close for a lariat…but Leo grabs his head!
Charlie Hanson: CODEBREAKER!!!...
But Emmit holds Leo in the air, lifting him up into a powerbomb position, using the ropes as added momentum, bouncing him off and slamming him into the mat! Leo sprawls out as Kraus gets to his feet. He lifts Leo by the head and drags him towards the turnbuckle, snarling as he points out to the crowd before bouncing Leo’s head off the turnbuckle again and again, Pryde watching in anticipation.
St. Remi: The mercilessness of Kraus is a sight to behold. But everyone tells me I’m the most merciless. Basically the best merciless.
Sara Conway: Shut up!
Charlie Hanson: Kraus has Leo reeling!
One after the other Leo’s head bounces off the turnbuckle before Kraus roars and throws him to the mat. He climbs up the turnbuckle and dives off, knee first towards Leo’s head! The force reverberates throughout the ring as Leo rolls away, his body convulsing as he holds his forehead! He moves his hand away…and a small drip of blood drops to the mat.
St. Remi: Uh oh…
The look in Kraus’ eyes change as he approaches Leo. Leo crawls away from Emmit using the ropes to do so, but Kraus closes in and lifts Leo to his feet, driving him back first into the turnbuckle. He stomps him out before driving his knee into his throat, holding it in place for a little bit. Leo rolls out of corner and towards the center of the ring. Kraus’ approaches him, a stone cold demeanor about him, and drags him to his feet…but Leo was lying in wait.
Charlie Hanson: CODEBREAKER!!! LEO HITS IT!
Emmit spills to the mat, a fresh sliver of red blood along his forehead as Leo pounces on him for the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!...
Sara Conway: …NO! KRAUS GETS THE SHOULDER UP!
Charlie Hanson: It took everything he had but he got the shoulder up!
St. Remi: I would have kicked out at two, personal preference.
Leo shakes his head, the blood splintering into tiny drops that drip to the mat. Kraus’ face is smeared with the blood from his forehead. Leo moves towards the turnbuckle and climbs to the top, signaling for the LEO-SPLASH!
Charlie Hanson: High rent district!!!
Leo crashes hard as Emmit rolls out of the way and he rebounds off the ropes dropping Leo to the mat with a curb stomp.
St. Remi: DOOR NAIL!!
Sara Conway: Emmit looked for his spot and he found it.
Emmit drops down into a pin.
1!
2!!
3!!!
Abbi Stein: Your winner, that weird emo kid who probably shouldn’t be seen in public in a group setting… Emmit.
Abbi drops the mic and exits the ring as “Getting Away With Murder” plays across the arena to a bloody Emmit Kraus in the ring.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:35:46 GMT
Advertisement 4: Commish
Commish, Corey Bull and Capt. Pelican Segment:
[Cut to a backstage room with the distinctive sounds of someone getting a work done over on them. The view pokes through a doorway to see the enormous back of Corey Bull and someone else whose voice projects out of view.]
"Shall you hear a - hupgh... I have a shanty verse to say."
"We are not interested in tall tales. A match has our attentions, not this game."
The other voice silences behind a number of hard gut punches. This continues for a few seconds until the victim's voice comes through again. Bull steps to the side just enough to see the face of the ever-meddling Captain Pelican. Bull seems to have chained him up by the wrists while suspending him from a concrete floor. Bull then closes the gap to deliver a number shots to his tubby breadbasket.
"Aren't ye... ah! Aren't ye in a the mood for a tale?"
"What are you?"
"The captain, good boy. What are you?"
"You have no idea what we are capable of..."
"I bet a perch I would."
"That's not even a saying," Bull says while backing away from his human punching bag. "But fine, spin us your tale."
"It began in 1969... a great storm a'brewed--"
Someone pushes past the camera and drops into shot. From behind it appears to be the Commissioner of Bum Fights, Old Jo Lamarche.
"When did you get here?"
"You will get nonthing from this one," Bull tells him. "He's not of clear mind..."
"I don't care if he's thinking straight," says the Commish. "Not when I bash his brains in!"
Corey Bull walks by with a hard brush of the Commissioner's shoulder whom turns enraged to the camera.
"And where are you going?"
"We tenderized your meat," Bulls says off camera. "Enjoy your dinner, Commissioner..."
"Should you like a tale of the darkest seas?"
"Pelican!" Lamarche says behind an incriminating point. "I'm not in the mood for your games."
Hard cut to the Commissioner and Capt. Pelican only a shoulder's width apart, face to face, as shouting match ensues.
"Do you not understand what I meant by suspension?"
"If a barnacle sticks to a ship. Does it have choice?"
"Pelican," Lamarche says, "I am not a joke. I can still do what what once made me king of the divison..."
"We all have an albatross across our necks."
The Commissioner grabs his turtle, pulling that chunky and bruised face closer into the shot.
"I stapled a man's mouth shut," he says. "You don't scare me. One snap - and it's all over. Ya' follow?"
"Never eat a jellyfish."
"You're from Jersey. Stop talking like some goddamn pirate!"
"I ride a dolphin into the sunset... Set your bearings, Commissioner!"
Lamarche cold cocks him. The impact drops Capt. Pelican's head to one side. Lamarche grabs his head and holds it between two angry hands, crushing it as much as he can.
"If I ever see you out here again," Lamarche says. "You don't wanna what'll happen. Are we clear?"
[Cut to the mumbling face of Captain Pelican to sound of the Commissioner's fading footsteps. Lights shut off leaving a small crack of light across his bloodied lip and swollen face.]
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:36:30 GMT
Nyeo Son vs Dark Spectre vs Alex Richards Writer: Commish
Conway: Welcome back from the break. Next up is a triple threat match with big names across the board.
Remi: That’s right, Sara. None more so than Alex Richards, a former pillar of UCI.
Conway: And I thought you didn’t want to “live in the past”?
Charlie: I’d rather go back to the future.
Remi: Good one, Chuck.
A single spotlight shines on an entryway somewhere in the crowd. Cue "Uprising". Spectre enters, his arms outstretched as he takes in the reaction from the crowd.
Abbi Stein: Love him or hate him… it’s Dark Spectre “the uh, Chaos Killer”…
He embraces some fans while ignoring the jeers of others as he makes his way to the ring, jumping onto the barricade. He proceeds to signal the rosarie, jumping from the barricade onto the ring apron and sliding under the bottom rope. He springs up, crouching in the middle of the ring as he awaits the start of the match.
Conway: He’s definitely looking for a big win tonight.
Remi: Any time you come up short in this business. You look to the next show as a new slate. It can eat you alive if you let one loss get in your way.
Conway: So true.
Charlie: Can’t wait to see what new moves he has in store for us tonight.
Remi: I think we agree on something for once, bub.
The slow, techno beats of Burning up by BTS stars, accompanied by dark, slow-motion footage of a rave on the titantron and multicolored strobelights.
It all stops as a voice speaks a single word in korean.
“Bultaoreune”
The area explodes into a cascade of red and white to reveal Nyeo Son on the ramp, arms outstretched and with a smirk on his face.
Abbi Stein: Get ready to watch that bitch vogue… it’s Nyeo Son!
He makes his way to the ring, his body swaying in time to the music, his coat and gloves catching the light and making him shine like a lonesome star in the otherwise dark arena.
Remi: I love his mindset. He got that killer mentality so many lack.
Conway: Is that a “learned” or “taught” thing?
Remi: Neither, you got to be born with that chip on your shoulder.
He rolls into the ring and stares down the hard camera as he leans over the ropes, licking his lips with a smirk before casually arching back until he is lying on his back on the mat, the camera switches to show him straight from above as he gestures it closer, a hungry look on his face before the the lights go out once more. Referee Chandra Betts meets him at the apron with a relaying of the matchup rules. Nyeon walks past her without lending an ear.
Charlie: I can’t wait guys!
Remi: For what?
Charlie: Here he comes! The big man, Alex Richards!
“I'm Not Like Everybody Else” by the Kinks plays but there is no sign of Alex Richards. The arena goes into a frenzy trying to see what has happened to their hero.
Conway: Reports confirm he was on campus today. But no has seen Alex Richards since this afternoon. You don’t he’s been injured, do you?
Remi: Knowing Pryde, it’s hard telling…
Charlie: Look guys – it’s the boss!
The big screen opens to a shot of Vincent Pryde at a desk in his usual fineries. Commissioner Lamarche whispers into his ear before stepping out of shot. Fans hush awaiting his address.
“New Blood faithful… it seems we have a little problem here. You see, many think that our rise was not official nor supported by anyone outside a director’s chair. That my company – our company, that is – is not the rightful successor of UCI. And to that I say look at the history books. This war of succession will only continue to be a problem for us as a company. That is why measures have been taken to ensure the longevity of New Blood Wrestling. Now my friends, we must continue on with the show sans Alex Richards… To the Violence!”
His unannounced appearance has everyone, including both of Richards’s opponents, standing baffled. Either way, it seems the show must go on. Betts brings the remaining fighters together and calls for the bell.
Conway: Despite an early setback – here we are folks. Nyeo Son versus Dark Spectre.
Remi: Two great talents of the verge of something spectacular.
Charlie: Spectre looking to spill first blood!
Remi: Wrong match, bub…
Conway: Spectre hopping on for DDT driver. What a bold beginning!
Charlie: Tilt-a-whirl goes around once – twice!
Remi: And all that flash ends with Nyeo tossing him aside from a soaring flapjack. Too much show and no substance. That’ll get you pinned against someone like Nyeo…
Charlie: Oh man, that one looked devastating from here.
Conway: He lunges again – hitting a crucifix pin!
1!
2—
Conway: Unlike some matches tonight, Betts right on top of that pin.
Remi: Spin that one as you like, Sara. Spectre running for the turnbuckle…
Conway: Rebounding with a cross body – moonsaulting kick from Nyeo!
Charlie: Oh baby that was sweet!
After a picture-perfect backflip, Nyeo takes a leg and puts in joint manipulation with a twisting heel hold. From this standing position, Spectre screams as the hold rotates multiple times. After a few good twists, he stomps the back of Spectre’s thigh. Fans begin turning against him.
Conway: And here come the boos.
Charlie: Nyeo isn’t the fun type, is he?
Remi: What about that posing? He’s a beautiful shooting star – and I will not have you sullying his good charms, Charlie.
Conway: A few pose too many, as Spectre has taken position behind him – German suplex!
Charlie: Exclamation point from the masked man! A cover!
1!
2—
Conway: Barely a count there. But I think Nyeo got the message.
Remi: Right, he cannot just watch this one unfold. He will have to put more into this bout.
Conway: Nyeo recovering, but Spectre is tearing across the ring – hurricanrana tosses the Korean “shooting star” to the mat.
Remi: Merely a slap, my dear. A little dust off and he’ll be fine.
Specter nearly hops from the floor to the top rope in a single bound. He points to Nyeo, threatening with something spectacular. Nyeo rolls out of the way of high-angle frog splash. Dark Spectre lands safely on all fours, but this misstep gives Nyeo an opportunity to attack with a big forearm to the neck. He throws several until Betts gives him a warning to “open up” his strikes. The fabulous one then pulls the luchador to his feet, and from a DDT clutch, he floats over the right and drives Spectre hard. He then hooks the leg.
1!
2!
Conway: Another middling effort from Nyeo. What does he have to do to put Spectre away?
Remi: I’d chop him down. Go back to the legs… like that, stomping the knees and ankles. If he cannot run there will be no chaos in the ring. And luchas like Spectre thrive off pandemonium.
Charlie: No legs means no flips. But I wanna see him do those cool flips!
Remi: Then find a different match. It’s only a matter of time before Nyeo slams the door shut.
Conway: Referee Chandra Betts intervenes after five charged stomps.
Remi: True, but one had specific target. Small joints that can go bad and ruin your day. He’s not flying anymore with a gimp ankle or knee. This, my friends, is an operation.
Spectre crawls away grunting with all his might. Those stomps did their magic, limiting him to one good leg. Nyeo grabs him again – from the back this time – and preps some variety of back suplex. Spectre goes up with his feet kicking wildly…
Conway: He reversed that into sit-out bulldog.
Remi: wow…
Charlie: And the cover!
1!
2!
Charlie: Close but cee-gar!
Remi: Spectre taking no time to gloat as he takes for the top rope again. What’s he up to?
Conway: Nyeo slow to his feet but looking intact. Now he sees Spectre perched atop the top rope. Both in this same place again… Dark Spectre hits the ground into a somersault – rolling under a clothesline attempt – giving chase to the opposite turnbuckle…
Charlie: It’s the Spectre Kick!
Conway: On the run, he just rebounded from the middle pad and executed a beautiful tornado roundhouse to Nyeo.
Remi: Damn, he’s dead on his feet…
Charlie: Specte hits the ropes again, and going for a sunset flip!
Remi: Caught and Alabama slamma! Oh baby, that was good stuff there. (off headset) Replay that shit, guys.
Fans see a quick replay of the catch, reversed motion and ensuing Alabama slam from Nyeo. However, the resulting impact drove both men hard to the mat. Betts begins her count.
1… 2… 3… 4…
Conway: Spectre is up but wobbly.
5… 6…
Conway: He throws a stiff kick under Nyeo’s chin. Nyeo throws one right into his knee.
Remi: And the count has stopped, but the targeting of Spectre’s limbs continues. Nyeo wants this one bad. He needs this win more than most. He has honor at stake in this.
Conway: And what of Dark Spectre? Does his not have the same claim?
Remi: Perhaps…
Charlie: Roundhouse kick! Nyeo brings the shotgun blast on that fierce kick! A cover!
1!
2!
3—
Conway: Narrow escape! Nyeo looking to put him away here – a toss into the ropes – Dark Sepctre hobbling on one foot.
Remi: He hit those ropes like a brick wall. And let me tell you, Sara, they aren’t soft.
Conway: Spectre drapes an arm through the middle rope, desperate for a breather.
Remi: I don’t doubt his conditioning here. But Nyeo has broken his from the waist down. Everything Spectre knows has been thoroughly taken from his grasp. I don’t what else he can hope to accomplish on one leg…
Charlie: Nyeo giving him the “bring it” motion. Like the Matrix!
Conway: That’s Neo, not Nyeo, Charlie.
Charlie: Still, looks like we’re about to see some kung-fu!
Remi: omg…
Nyeo making his approach with confident steps. Spectre skips towards the turnbuckle before getting cut off by his opponent. Stable feet toss him across the ring – Spectre instinctively hits the ropes and comes back with all he’s got… a leaping hurricanrana falls into Nyeo’s control. He takes this from a powerbomb clutch, driving Dark Specte with a wheelbarrow driver.
Charlie: Ice, ice, baby – baby! And the pin!
Remi: Really?
1!
2!
3!
Conway: No! A last second shoulder push get free. Nyeo looking frustrated.
Remi: Great fight from the luchadore, but this has to end soon.
Conway: Do you doubt the fight in Dark Spectre now, Remi?
Charlie: Mounted punches pounding away… Nyeo is pissed, guys.
Remi: And he should be. This little guy just will not go down. Time for the big guns.
Conway: Again, he pulls the deadweight of his opponent from the mat. A huge elbow pins him in place… and Nyeo Son in heading for a turnbuckle.
Leaving his opponent to rot, Nyeo goes up the turnbuckle to taunt a hostile crowd. Random things rain from the front row until security intervenes. Messages flash across the big screen begging others to not throw trash or other items into the ring. He makes a few sexy poses much to their chagrin. Unbeknownst to him, Dark Spectre has rolled onto his stomach. He crawls towards this display, only to see Nyeo eyeing him for destruction…
Conway: Nyeo looking for a showstopper – and Spectre charges!
Remi: His boot got caught on padding! Nyeo is pinned in place!
Conway: Spectre meeting him at the top of the mountain – and the punches fly between them!
Remi: Come on Nyeo, you got this… don’t give an inch.
They throw close ranged elbow strikes until Nyeo unleashes his secret weapon: Cranberry Juice, a sudden and brutal palm strike under Spectre’s chin. The masked man almost falls off like the end fight of Goldeneye yet somehow keeps a footing.
Conway: What was that?
Remi: Innovative offense!
Conway: What the hell!? Dark Spectre just took Nyeo Son crashing down with him!
Remi: How did he manage that backflip? That’s not possible – how!?
Charlie: Agent of Chaos flattens the both! Look guys, Spectre landed on top!
Conway: Betts diving in for the count!
1!
2!
3!
Abbi Stein: And the masked man wins it! Way to go Specter! yay….
Both competitors remain in the ring. Betts checks on them when the Big screen opens again. From it we see NBW Owner Vincent Pryde with a mute expression across him face. Behind him seems to be burlap sack and his giant bodyguard, Onslaught, keeping it in frame. Both wrestlers get helped out of the ring under the cover of darkness as Pryde begins another of his infamous monologues to the fans.
“What a show! Give these boys a hand, go one, they've earned it!"
The crowd does as they're told before looking back awkwardly to Pryde smarmy grin.
"Everyone, please, stay in your seats. I know what you’re thinking: Where is Alex Richards? Well, he had to be put in a safer place – somewhere where he nor zim-quila could ever hurt anyone again. Which brings me to a difficult topic. Something many of you will turn a deaf ear to because of your old love. Trust me – I get it. UCI closed with no retirement party. But those days are over. I ask you band with us now, or else things will get a lot darker around here. New Blood faithful… give these new brethren our solemn swear…"
(like a congregation) To the Violence
“Excellent… now be ready when the others sows their faces – and they will soon – because they feel wronged. Cheated of their one true love. Be ready, be vigilant when the time comes. For we will outlast them all.” There's a cut to the hard camera, now facing the three headed announce team. All three look quite spooked.
Conway: Chilling words from Vincent Pryde… but are these people he’s talking about?
Remi: And was that Alex Richards under that mail sack?
Conway: I don’t know, partner. That can’t be good though.
Charlie: Time for war!
Conway: But who though?
Remi: (off headset) Hey guys - why don't ya go to commercial...
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:38:36 GMT
Advertisement 5: Bonnie Blue
The jumbotron flickers to life; a camera's eye opens to reveal the backstage area, where L Verez stretches in preparation for her upcoming match. Bonnie Blue leans casually against the wall.
Bonnie Blue: Y’know, I hate to admit it, but that Kidsgrove guy made a pretty compelling point last week…
L Verez: How so?
Bonnie Blue: Well, ya know, the thing about tryna burn the NBW down to the ground, the roster here before UCI was swallowed up was pretty, well…
L Verez: Lackluster?
Bonnie Blue: Was gonna say awful, but yeah that’ll do.
L Verez: Indeed… Pryde was lucky to have acquired the talent he now possesses in NBW. If only he were a bit more fair to a good amount of them.
Bonnie Blue: Fair? Pryde don't know the meaning of the word. Dude’s as sleazy as they come, and twice as underhanded.
L Verez: This awful idea of a women's division also alludes me…
Bonnie Blue: I dunno, but we’re gonna do somethin’ about it.
Andre Jenson steps into the frame and clears his throat.
Andre Jenson: My ladies.
Both L Verez and Bonnie Blue stop talking and look at Jenson, taken aback at the interruption. Bonnie smiles.
Bonnie Blue: My Lord, how’s it goin? Not seen you since the buyout.
Andre Jenson: Aye, m’lady. I’ve been busy. So have you by the looks of it.
L Verez looks slightly annoyed at the apparent accusation.
L Verez: What do you mean by that?
Andre Jenson: Oh nothing, just we’ve seen you and hear you.
Bonnie Blue: By we?
Andre Jenson: Sam Kidsgrove and I.
L Verez: Kidsgrove? Where is that guy anyway?
Andre Jenson: Aye, Sam Kidsgrove. He sends his apologies, he wanted a catchup with you but it’s Martin Luther King day, so he’s away at a rally making sure that all the injustices of the world are put to rights. Guest speaker from what I understand, talking about how workplace discrimination is a thing because Hollywood hasn’t got it right yet and they should do more.
Bonnie Blue: Fair enough, he’s right again. When did he become the person with the most sanity in this world?
Andre Jenson: He’s a changed man since UCI folded. You’ll be surprised. Alas, I needs must be going though. Too many things to do, not enough time!
Andre holds his hand out to shake both women’s hands.
Andre Jenson: Good luck out there.
He shakes hands with Bonnie, and then L Verez. Smiling as he does. With a slight bow, he then walks away.
L Verez: He’s an odd one, that Jenson.
Bonnie Blue is looking down into her hand, she looks back at Jenson and back at her hand.
L Verez: What is it?
Bonnie Blue: Ya know what? I have no idea.
L Verez looks at the card Bonnie has in her hand. A simple black business card with a monogrammed word on the front in while.
L Verez: Insurgency? This is the first I've heard of that…
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:45:39 GMT
Women’s Division Match w/ Special Guest ref Vandalia w/ Bonnie Blue on commentary Brooke Bell and Erin Fausse vs L Verez and Travis McKenna Writer: Bonnie Blue
Saint Remi: We are back, and ready for tag team action in this Women's Division match that ironically involves two dudes... I guess. Joining me here at ringside is the love of my life and future ex, Bonnie Blue!
Bonnie Blue: Keep dreamin', Remi.
Sara Conway: Welcome, Bonnie. As a multiple-time tag team champion, I'm sure you'll bring an experienced perspective to this match.
Saint Remi: What am I, chopped liver? I was in two tag championship matches!
Sara Conway: And you lost both times. Such a bad investment.
The New Blood Wrestling Women's Champion, Vandalia, is already in the ring; wearing a black and white mask to match the stripes on her referee shirt.
Charlie Hanson: Last week's rivals are this week's allies in this tag team match-up that pits two Women's Championship contenders against wo-man-thing L Verez and the reincarnation of Andy Kaufman in Travis McKenna!
Abbi Stein: The following match is scheduled to SUCK and is contested under tag team rules. First to the ring, straight outta Brooklyn -- Brooke Bell!
"Versace" by Migos plays as the lights in the arena dim, walking out from the back wearing a obnoxiously bright gold Versace robe, is Brooke Bell. Looking down at some of the jewelry on her wrist, flossing it for the crowd. Starting her trek down to the ring now, taking her time ignoring the fans disdain. Stopping as she reaches the bottom of the ramp to do a little bit of a spin before walking around the edge of the ring. Sitting on the edge as she holds up a finger, telling the crowd to wait as she removes her necklace, her watch, and the rest of her extensive jewelry which she places in a bag that she sets in her corner. As she tosses off her robe before stepping into the ring where she proceeds to stretch waiting on her opponent.
Abbi Stein: And her "partner"...
"Open up your murder eyes and see the ugly world that spat you out."
Abbi Stein: ...from Recluse, Wyoming -- is that even a real place? Whatever. Erin Fausse. Lame.
Sean Bonnette's vocals erupt over the speakers, drowning out the audience for a few brief moments before they realize just who's coming down to the ring and erupt in a chorus of boos. Erin Fausse emerges from the back, a smile forming on her face as thunderous jeers greet her. Her head cocked to the side, she begins her descent towards the ring, her confidence unfazed by the sea of disapproval from the audience. At the ringside area, she ascends the steel steps, pausing at the first one and turning to face the audience. The smile never leaving her face, she forms her left hand into the shape of a gun and takes aim at the audience, seemingly opening fire on the paying customers. As the boos increase in volume, she rolls her eyes and makes her way up the remaining stairs, stepping into the ring under the bottom rope and backing into her corner. Her eyes slide shut as she awaits the beginning of the match.
Saint Remi: And look at the side-eye Bell is giving Fausse. There is no love lost between these two!
Bonnie Blue: She better get the hell over it, or this is gonna be a real short match.
Abbi Stein: And their opponents...
The lights bleed a dark indigo color throughout the arena as the whimsical beat to Tetris by DJ Dahi starts. As the spotlight hits, L Verez starts walking slowly to the stage with her hands behind her back and the UCI Hypermedia Title slung around her neck, her valet Zima'Ion accompanying her. She slowly turns toward the ring, and moves her arms to an X-crossed position, with an L hand sign on her right hand, and a V hand sign on her left. Once the bass drops, she 360 spins as she drops down to one knee, the lights quickly and constantly beaming a teal color along with the deep bass. Her right hand is holding up her sunglasses, and her left is out with her "come in peace" symbol. As she gets back up, she lifts her right arm up with an "OK" symbol, and her left arm out to the side with her peace symbol.
Abbi Stein: First, from "a distant galaxy" -- the "FemAlien," L Verez!
As L makes her way down the ramp, she goes to the fans in the front row, holding up her peace sign to them, so they can collide their peace signs with hers. She bows to them and puts an upside-down "OK" symbol against her eye while sticking her tongue out before walking away.
She makes it to the ring, and quickly rolls under it as the beat intensifies with a robotic sci-fi like instrumental. The lights constantly switching from indigo to teal to navy blue and then to mint green. She raises the Hypermedia belt overhead to a pop from the crowd, hands her sunglasses and her title to Zima'Ion, and then goes up the top turnbuckle, facing the crowd, lifting her arms back up. Her left back to her side with the peace symbol, and her right making an upside-down OK symbol against her eye, also sticking her tongue out. As her music begins to fade out, and the lights return to normal, she sits on the top turnbuckle, with two peace signs held together in a praying position, as she anticipates her match up.
Abbi Stein: And his-her-its-their partner, from Louisville, Kentucky -- the "Kid With the Motor Mouth," Travis McKenna!
"Big Rings" by Drake and Future hits the speakers as Travis McKenna rushes out and hypes himself up on the top of the ramp. He then confidently struts down the ramp and puts his fingers to his lips to shush the crowd.
Sara Conway: That is one of the, uh, shortest ring entrances in the business today.
Saint Remi: I think the word you're looking for is "uninspiring." And clearly, Erin Fausse feels the same way -- she just stepped onto the apron, leaving Brooke Bell to start things off for her team!
*DING! DING! DING!*
Bonnie Blue: Travis looks like he's ready to get this match underway -- but wait! He tags in L and slips between the ropes, giving Brooke the finger on his way out!
With a shrug, Verez steps to the middle of the ring, extending a hand to Bell. Brooke rolls her eyes in disdain.
Sara Conway: Brooke Bell showing disrespect to the Disciple of Strange, refusing to shake hands. But L doesn't look too bothered.
Charlie Hanson: She's probably used to it, but that doesn't mean she has to like it! Verez with a boot to the gut of Brooke Bell and a facelock applied! DDT! Don't Disrespect Trannies!
Saint Remi: Seriously, bro?
Bonnie Blue: I thought it was funny. Or maybe I was just laughing at Brooke Bell getting dropped on her head. She reminds me of Casey Holliday, but without the charm.
Charlie Hanson: Bell's gonna need some burn oinment after she hears this commentary!
Sara Conway: ME-OW! This kitten's got claws, y'all.
Bonnie Blue: Damn right. Meanwhile, in the ring, L Verez and Brooke Bell now slugging it out while the official looks on. Bell finally has enough and shoves Verez away! Verez charges back in -- Bell ducks! Rebound off the ropes! OH!
Saint Remi: And L Verez eats a boot from the one-hit wonder! Rookie mistake from the Guardian -- I would have never fallen for that.
Sara Conway: Bell with a pin attempt -- but Verez kicks out strong before the referee even gets in position. Verez up and calling for a test of strength... Bell accepts!
Charlie Hanson: No! It's a ruse! She clasps her fingers with L's, then twists the arm around, with a stomp for added leverage!
Bonnie Blue: Hold on. This is my girl's wheelhouse right here -- and there it is! Reversal! L shifts into a wristlock and now she's in control of this match! She's got that wrist, she can move Bell anywhere in that ring.
L Verez guides Brooke Bell toward her corner, where Travis McKenna waits, hand outstretched for the inevitable tag. Verez obliges by slapping his hand, and McKenna takes a cheap shot with an elbow to Bell's ribs. Meanwhile. Erin Fausse watches the action from her corner with a detached demeanor.
Saint Remi: McKenna now the legal man and it's not looking good for Brooke Bell! Irish whip to the ropes -- rebound into a clothesline!
Sara Conway: Travis isn't done with her, yet! He hauls Bell to her feet by the hair, and it looks like he's yelling at her -- I don't think he liked the way she was talking about his football career on Twitter this week! And he emphasizes it with a chop to the chest!
Bell reels backward several steps before regaining her balance. She shakes off the daze and shoots McKenna an icy glare. Quickly, she turns away, dashing for the ropes; she rebounds --
Charlie Hanson: Hurricanrana off the ropes and Brooke Bell is catching fire now! McKenna down, Bell up! To the ropes again! MOONSAULT!
Bonnie Blue: Travis McKenna staggers right into it and Bell is definitely picking up steam now! She runs to the corner and is up those buckles in a flash! Is it smart to go to the well one more time?
Sara Conway: Not if she's going to showboat like that!
Saint Remi: Hey, she deserves a little well-earned applause!
Sara Conway: What would you know about either of those things?
Bonnie Blue: Speakin' of claws....
Charlie Hanson: Bell takes flight! Top rope leg drop targeted -- BUT DENIED! McKenna rolls out of the way at the last second! Travis McKenna with a quick cover! And Vandalia with the count!
ONE . . .
TWO --
Sara Conway: Brooke Bell with a kickout at two. McKenna stays on her, unleashing a volley of mounted punches while the official tells him off.
Travis leaps up and now is in Vandalia's face! The Women's Champ tugs on her striped shirt, reminding him who's in charge.
Bonnie Blue: McKenna better be careful, or he'll get his team disqualified.
Saint Remi: Here comes Brooke Bell with a running elbow -- For Whom the Bell Tolls! That's how you take advantage of a distraction! McKenna on his knees, and if she's smart, my girl Brooke gonna capitalize!
Sara Conway: Your girl, huh? Bonnie, it looks like you've got competition.
Bonnie Blue: She's welcome to him. A consolation prize after I kick her ass and take that Women's Title off the Champ.
Charlie Hanson: Enzuigiri from Brooke Bell, followed by a cover!
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
THR --
Saint Remi: NO! McKenna gets a powerful shoulder up and kips up to his feet. Bell may be in trouble here! McKenna making a grab for Brooke -- she surprises him with a slap to the face!
While Travis stands there, stunned, Brooke Bell races to her corner and reaches out -- for a partner who isn't there. Erin Fausse drops down off the apron, pretending not to notice Brooke's desperate attempt to tag her in.
Bonnie Blue: With partners like that, who needs enemies? Erin Fausse is bad news, and always has been -- but hey, at least she's a complete flake!
Sara Conway: McKenna grabs a handful of Bell's hair! The official warning him, but he's not listening! Facewash against the ropes! He bounces Brooke's face off the turnbuckle before finally releasing her.
Charlie Hanson: Fausse back on the apron! She reaches over and tags herself in as Brooke Bell slumps to the canvas and rolls out under the ropes!
Saint Remi: Erin Fausse legal for her team now, and she refuses to be intimidated as Travis McKenna steps right up, towering over her. This is not a place any sane person wants to be -- but lucky for Erin, "sane" is the last word that applies to her!
Fausse stares up at the imposing figure of Travis McKenna, a malicious smile spreading across her lips. For the first time, McKenna looks a little uncomfortable, as Fausse keeps him transfixed in her unblinking, unwavering gaze. More creeped out with each passing second, McKenna shoves Erin Fausse out of his way and storms toward his corner.
Sara Conway: Erin Fausse explodes into action with a clubbing forearm to the back, followed by a drop toehold!
Not enough to keep two-hundred thirty pounds down, though, and she knows it! Fausse on McKenna's back, and she's got one corner of his mouth fish-hooked!
Bonnie Blue: Smart move on Erin's part -- with McKenna's hundred-plus pound advantage, she has to reach deep into that bag of dirty tricks! Shifting to a chokehold as McKenna gets to his feet!
Charlie Hanson: Travis McKenna's caught like a frog on a gig, but on the other hand, Erin Fausse has herself a tiger by the tail!
Saint Remi: What does that even -- nevermind, here comes the cavalry! L Verez in the ring now to give his-her partner an assist!
Not willing to be left out of the action, a partially-recovered Brooke Bell climbs back between the ropes and leaps into the fray.
Sara Conway: Referee and Women's Champion Vandalia appears to be having trouble restoring order as this match dissolves into an all-out brawl!
Bonnie Blue: I'll handle this.
Saint Remi: Wait, Boo! Where are you going?
Charlie Hanson: Our guest commentator has left the broacast table and is headed for the ring -- she's got a chair!
Bonnie tosses the chair in ahead of her while the other four combatants battle it out, picking the makeshift weapon up again as she rolls in, and watches, waiting for her moment. As the brawl's tide carries them near her, the Daughter of Time raises her chair overhead -- and swings down with force! L and Travis both duck as the chair connects!
Saint Remi: Chairshot to Brooke Bell! She's winding up for another swing!
Sara Conway: Chairshot to Erin Fausse! And now Bonnie's got the Women's Champ in her sights!
All at once, (Pryde's music) hits to a massive pop from the crowd! Onslaught steps onto the stage first, Vincent Pryde a step behind, wearing a furious expression on his face. Everything in the ring stops. The chair is snatched from Bonnie Blue's hands and tossed aside. Pryde lifts a microphone to his lips.
Vincent Pryde: I warned you, Bonnie! I'm not Spencer Adams, and I WILL NOT tolerate this insubordination! Your career -- not just with this company, but the industry as a whole -- hangs in the balance. Or had you forgotten?
In the ring, Bonnie points at herself, then shakes her head, feigning complete innocence. Pryde, however, obviously isn't buying it.
Vincent Pryde: Out of the ring! As a matter of fact, get backstage -- I don't need you out here, causing disruptions! That's right! I'm banning you from ringside! Now go!
Reluctantly, Bonnie moves toward the ropes, Vandalia nearby to escort her from the ring. Without warning, the Hardcore Queen turns around, plants a knee in Vandalia's midsection, then manhandles her into an inverted mat slam -- right onto the discarded chair!
Saint Remi: OHMYGOD! My Bonnie Boo just nailed the Women's Champion with a Weeping Angel on a steel chair!
Sara Conway: And here comes Onslaught, looking to bring this fight to the Time Witch while medics assist Vandalia in the ring. It looks like -- she's ok, folks! Vandalia is cleared to officiate the rest of this match!
Outside the ring, Onslaught and Bonnie Blue trade blows. Their momentum carries them back up the ramp, and the camera follows the two backstage, where it catches a glimpse of Andre Jenson watching the action on a monitor. He looks up, surprised to see himself on TV; even more surprised to see the pair of combatants brawling their way past him. With a shrug, he waves at the camera, then turns back to the monitor as the scene returns to ringside.
Charlie Hanson: Looks like Andre Jenson has some kind of interest in this match -- possibly related to the encounter he had earlier with two-thirds of the Guardians. Meanwhile, in the ring, Erin Fausse again faces off with Travis McKenna, who has dominated since he stepped between the ropes!
Saint Remi: That may be, but he's looking worse for the wear now. A smart competitor like me would tag his partner in at this point; there's no reason taking chances you don't have to.
Sara Conway: That's surprisingly coherent logic for you, Remi. Travis must be thinking the same thing. He turns back to his corner and high-fives L Verez!
Charlie Hanson: L vaults over the rope and charges at Erin Fausse, looking for that bicycle boot -- and is met with a standing moonsault instead! Big Bang denied! Fausse follows up with an obvious low blow that the ref pretends not to see!
Saint Remi: Bro, don't even -- Vandalia is NBW Women's Champion; she's not going to let something like that get by! You need glasses, dude.
Sara Conway: Nevertheless, Verez appears to be in a lot of pain here, and Fausse is looking to capitalize. Into her own corner and up the turnbuckle! She's signaling for Divine Intervention!
Erin Fausse takes a moment more to line up her target, then dives from the top turnbuckle with a picture-perfect 450 splash!
Charlie Hanson: And she nails it! The Lord above is with Erin tonight as she hooks the leg!
ONE . . .
Saint Remi: Here comes Travis McKenna to break up the pin!
TWO . . .
Sara Conway: Brooke Bell enters the ring to stop him!
THREE ! ! !
*DING! DING! DING!*
Abbi Stein: Your winners -- these two badass bitches right here, Erin Fausse and Brooke Bell!
As Fausse's music hits the speakers, the pair allow the ref to raise their arms to a cheering crowd.
Charlie Hanson: Bell and Fausse have both just got themselves some momentum going forward, and you have to wonder just how secure Vandalia is feeling about her spot as Women's Champion right about now...
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:50:53 GMT
Advertisement 6: FarCry
We cut to backstage where Backstage Interviewer FFC is standing, sweating like he just worked out but really he probably just ate a spicy sausage hoagie. He is holding a microphone to his flushed face before he wipes his brow with a stained rag.
FFC: Hi everyone, it’s your favorite New Blood Interviewer Fat Bleep Carl- see FFC does the bleeps for the FCC now. I’m here with perennial loser FarCry Noah Knox…
The camera pans out and the bearded form of FarCry is seen with his face in his hands muttering to himself.
FarCry: No…NO…Nonono! NO! No… No…
FFC: Well said. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about what how you’re stepping into this match against a monster like Corey Bull.
FarCry: NO… No… NO! Nonono! No! No…
FFC: Why not?
FarCry: NO! No! NO!
Voice: Yes.
A quiet female voice with a touch of whimsy is heard off camera. The camera pans out off of FFC and reveals Mya Denton standing beside FarCry with her hand on his shoulder.
Mya Denton: Yes… YES!
She says again with a smile on her face. FarCry looks at her with a pained look and then puts his face back in his hands again.
FarCry: NO! No no!
Mya Denton: Yes, yes yes!
FarCry: NO! NOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Mya Denton: Yes… YESSSSSS!!!!!
FarCry looks at her, then over to his other side and leaves the area leaving FFC and Mya Denton alone together.
FFC: Do you have any idea what that was all about.
Mya Denton: Not a clue.
FFC: Then why were you goading him.
Mya Denton: Why Carl? Because I ALWAYS get a YES!
The camera pans to a close up of Mya as a devious and sadistic smile crosses her perfectly manicured face as she matches it with a sinister laugh.
Mya Denton: Hehehehehehehe!
She sighs, as her face becomes somber and serious and her smile is replaced with a look of disgust before she exits the screen leaving the scaffolding background as the only image left and the scene fades to the ring as we prepare for the next match.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:55:33 GMT
Chaos vs Matt Angel Writer: Bonnie
Saint Remi: That last match was en fuego! Tru Grit is where it's at, dudes and dudettes! But next up, we have two newcomers in singles action! Both Chaos and Matt Angel failed to pick up victories in their New Blood debut matches -- but this week, one man walks out with a win and redemption for last week's pitiful performance!
Sara Conway: Ok, harsh -- but the man has a point. Although Chaos wasn't the one pinned in his triple threat debut, he's stil looking to make an impression here tonight!
Charlie Hanson: We can expect to see a hell of a spectacle from these disastrously mismatched competitors! Chaos is a brute and a powerhouse, while Matt Angel is an agile, athletic --
Saint Remi: -- spot monkey. That's all he is, bro. He'd be more at home in the circus.
Abbi Stein: Hey, yo! Shut up! This next match is about to start! First to the ring --
"Undead" by Hollywood Undead starts to play as Chaos slowly makes his way to the ring. As he walks up the ring steps to enter the ring the four corner post explode with blue flame.
Abbi Stein: This big bastard is six-foot-eight and weighs two-hundred sixty-five pounds; supposedly from Ancient Sparta -- CHAOS!
Chaos enters the ring as the flames die and stands in the ring waiting for the match to start.
Abbi Stein: And his opponent --
"I will Show You" By From Ashes To New blasts from the PA system, Matt Angel walks out and with his arms raised he walks down the ramp way high-fiving the fans.
Abbi Stein: At six-two and a hundred and eighty pounds, this dude's about to get his head caved in! From Venice Beach, California -- MATT ANGEL!
He jumps onto the apron and climbs the turnbuckle and also celebrates cheering to the fans.
*DING! DING! DING!*
Sara Conway: There's the bell -- and right to a classic collar-and-elbow tieup. Chaos gains early advantage, picks Angel up, and slams him onto the canvas!
Charlie Hanson: A dazed Matt Angel bounces right back to his feet, and charges at the big man! Chaos sidesteps! Angel to the ropes -- handspring hurricanrana! Chaos is down! Angel presses his advantage, climbing those ropes again!
Saint Remi: Chaos stirs -- he gets to a knee -- Matt Angel flies off the ropes!
Sara Conway: Corkscrew neckbreaker!
Charlie Hanson: NO! Chaos catches Angel in midair and reverses, bringing his opponent down across his knee! BACKBREAKER!
Saint Remi: There's the cover and the count!
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
Sara Conway: Matt Angel kicks out at two! Chaos stays on him, pulling Angel to his feet -- wraps him up and lifts -- SUPLEX! Chaos keeps his hold on Angel and picks him up AGAIN for a second suplex! He's looking to put an early end to this match.
Charlie Hanson: Going for a third -- WAIT! Somehow Matt Angel fights his way free! Angel now making his way back toward the ropes, but those two suplexes took their toll.
Saint Remi: Chaos is stalking his victim as Matt Angel slumps against the ropes. In position now, Chaos gesturing for Angel to stand.
And he does. Slowly, Matt Angel uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, glaring defiantly across the ring. With a smirk, Chaos charges at his opponent.
Sara Conway: Chaos going for the most devastating move in his repertoire, that Spartan Spear --
Charlie Hanson: NO! A quick-thinking Angel pulls down on the ropes and Chaos spills to the outside! Angel up top now!
Saint Remi: Theatrics on display here as Matt Angel extends his arms like wings, playing to the crowd! He takes flight again!
Charlie Hanson: OH MY GAWD! SOMERSAULT PLANCHA ONTO CHAOS FROM THE TOP ROPE!
Sara Conway: Both men down on the ringside mats...
Saint Remi: See? Spot monkey, told ya! Dude took an unnecessary risk right there, just to show off!
Angel gets back to his feet first. He sees Chaos beginning to stir, and hops up onto the apron. Just as Chaos rises -- Matt Angel jumps off with a roundhouse kick!
Sara Conway: Roundhouse kick off the apron, as the official tells both competitors to return to the ring.
Charlie Hanson: They're not listening, Sara. Matt Angel is totally focused on his opponent, and Chaos doesn't seem to care what the ref says. Angel taking advantage of a stunned Chaos to run him into the crowd barrier!
Saint Remi: The referee starting that ten count as these two continue to fight at ringside!
One.
Two.
Sara Conway: Chaos up again, and -- OW! -- he whips Angel into the ring apron!
Three.
Four.
Charlie Hanson: And Chaos rolls Angel into the ring, stopping the count! Chaos back in the ring next, and he looks ready to put Matt Angel away!
Saint Remi: Angel gets to his feet -- only to be met immediately with a brogue kick! He ducks! Legsweep! To the ropes -- springboards off -- forearm smash!
Chaos staggers backward a few steps, then stops and offers Matt Angel a wicked grin.
Sara Conway: I don't like that look on Chaos' face. He's got something nasty in mind, I can tell!
With that chilling grin plastered across his face, Chaos beckons to Angel, inviting him to bring on the attack.
Charlie Hanson: Don't fall for it, Matt!
But, of course, he does. Matt Angel charges at Chaos. Chaos goes for a big clothesline, but Angel nails a pele kick instead!
Saint Remi: Did not see that coming! A pele kick from Matt Angel catches Chaos by surprise and Angel is pressing his advantage now! Hits the ropes again --springboard missile dropkick! Angel covers!
ONE . . .
TWO --
Sara Conway: And a shoulder up at two! Chaos shoves Matt away and kips up to his feet. Angel circling, keeping his distance while he revises his strategy.
Charlie Hanson: No strategy here -- just fight hard, fast, and dirty! That's the only way to drop a monster like Chaos and keep him down! Angel doesn't have that killer instinct!
Sara Conway: Maybe not, but the kid's got heart! Matt Angel waits for Chaos to make his move -- back elbow! Angel nails Chaos right across the jaw with a huge back elbow!
The smile fades as Chaos shakes off the cobwebs from that one, his lip curling into a sneer.
Saint Remi: Angel right back to his comfort zone on the ropes -- springboard -- CAUGHT BY CHAOS!
Sara Conway: Chaos has one big hand wrapped around the throat of Matt Angel! He doesn't waste any time picking up the smaller man -- CHOKESLAM! There is no finesse in that, just pure brutality!
Charlie Hanson: Chaos doesn't even bother hooking the leg, instead placing one foot squarely on Matt Angel's chest. The count is just a formality at this point!
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
THREE ! ! !
Saint Remi: And Chaos picks up the victory here tonight!
Abbi Stein: Your winner, by pinfall -- CHAOS!
The big man glares down at his fallen opponent with a triumphant smirk as "Undead" by Hollywood Undead hits the speakers to a chorus of boos from the crowd.
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Post by CEO Vincent Pryde on Jan 16, 2018 3:56:48 GMT
Advertisement 7: Romeo King
(Scene Opening On Hunting Park at Street Corner Market with a Woman and a Man leaning back Able to see there breath as smoke from a Marlboro Cigarette )
Romeo King
Monday Blood Monday NBW. The roster looking peaceful. Well you boys and girls I see Nothing But Hoods here. You think this your Places not uh. The NBW is my Hood you got that Hoods. I am Bringing The Ghetto.
(As Inhales Smoke and Exhales as Paris begins to speak)
Paris
This is Making Me Hot Bue Watching them Be Treet Like Fire Bue.
Romeo King
How they Treat Fire Bue?
Paris
That’s Simple you stomp them out. Cause no one gets in your way when you go after what you want.
(With A Grin as inhales and exhales the smoke as he speaks again as his hands in form of a gun as he pointing to the camera.)
Romeo King
That’s right Bue. I don’t sit back Hood you got that. Your Beatch Ass Beatches You don’t know what gonna happen till I invade your home Cause I Don’t Ask for anything. Cause I just Take What I want by any means nessary! Just Remember In The End It’s Just Business....................It’s Nothing PERSONAL.
(As he Blows Smoke into the Camera as Ghetto Superstar playing as Camera fades out.)
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