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Week 4 results

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Angelus
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Should've found a better diet


« on: July 18, 2009, 03:39:08 am »

OOC: Apologies guys.  Something came up today and to be honest, I just don't have it in me to write it right now.  I've got a show in progress, and a couple gus helping me write it so the quick results will only be temporary.  Should have it edited with the actual show in the next day or two.  Again, sorry...

**** Title match:
Winner: Fervor Falls

Cruserweight title match:
Winner: Tony Daniels

Prime Time Championship Match:
Winner:Chip Horton

Main Event:
Winner: Quentin Barnes

I'll have week five's card up shortly...

And just so you can see I DO have a show in progress...

Quote
OOC: Many thanks to Stoner and Greenbean for their helping hands this week!  I really appreciate the help, guys.

Blackout opens up with all cameras focusing on the ring as Blackout’s GM, Duke Hamilton stands directly in the center.  He holds a mic firmly in his right hand, his pearly whites just’a shining at the camera.  He looks to his left shoulder and brushes it a bit before looking back into the camera.

Tha’ Duke:
Welcome...to the Duke Hamilton SPECIAL!  It’s a glorious night tonight!  We got THREE championships on the line!  We got title matches, punishment matches, and hell...we even got adventures with stuffed animals!  Yes ladies and gentlemen, with Duke Hamilton the impossible becomes possible!  But...there’s something I must address.

Something’s different about Duke’s tone.  His smile seems to fade as his eyes look over to the announce table at Frank.

Frank:
The hell’s he looking at me for?

Tha’ Duke:
Frank...you’re a respected man in the wrestling world.  Hell, you trained guys like Cory Chevelle, and his kid brother, Angelus.  You’re the head trainer for UWE.  I respect that, Frank, I do.  But don’t think I didn’t hear some of the **** you were saying last week! 

Alex:
Whoa, what?

Frank:
That’s what I’m thinking...

Tha’ Duke:
Frank, please come to the ring.  Bring a mic.  I’d like to address you, personally.

Frank rolls his eyes as he stands up.  He removes his headset and grabs a mic from Bo Freeman who eagerly sits next to the commentating crew.  As Frank makes his way to the ring Bo snatches a mic himself and shouts...

Bo:
SEATTLE!  MY VERY DEAR FRIENDS!  I GIVE TO YOU, THE MOST LEGENDARY TRAINER IN THE BUSINESS!  A MISTER FRANK! LEEEEAAAAAAARRRRRYYY-AH!   YEAH! 

The crowd suddenly goes wild for Frank, making the tough old veteran smile a bit as he enters the ring with Duke.  Frank strolls up, looking into the eyes of Duke Hamilton and raises his mic.

Frank:
Whaddya want, Duke?

Tha’Duke:
What?  Excuse me?  Huh-uh!  That’s MISTA Hamilton to you, Frank! 

Frank:
It would be.

Tha’Duke:
I’m sorry?

Frank:
I said it would be.  If I had a lick of respect for you.  You sorry ass prick. 

You can see eyes widen and hear jaws crash into the floor.  Frank stands up tall and straight, getting right into the face of Duke.

Frank:
I been in this business since before you were snatchin’ hub-caps and listening to your hip-hop.  I was training champions while you were running with the bros and the homies.  Hell, I was making young men sweat and bleed, and that was while I was chewin’ their ass’s out while you were lookin’ at them girls with the big ass’s. 

Tha’Duke:
Frank, you’re outta line...

Frank:
No, mooley, YOU’RE outta line.  You wanna call me to this very ring and try to make yourself look all mighty, you picked the wrong old bastard to **** with ya dumb fucken prick!  I’ll knock your teeth outcha’ ass!  I’ll shine my shoes on your dense, bald head! 

Tha’Duke:
You will shut your FUCKEN old ass up, or I will beat you down right hee-*THUMPH*

Alex:
HOLY ****!!!!  FRANK JUST **** HEAD BUTTED DUKE!!! 

Frank stands over Duke, a 65 year old man just knocked out a 39 year old man.  The crowd loves it!  They’re giving him a standing ovation, clapping and cheering his name.  FRANK!  FRANK!  FRANK!  Frank raises his mic and turns to the camera.

Frank:
Ladies Gentlemen, on behalf of myself and the boys in the back...we present to you a BLACKOUT special...Someone get his sorry ass outta this ring.  I got a match to call. 


The excitement of the big time, the main stage, the sheer size of UWE, this globally recognized, and broadcast, wrestling federation is anything but typical. The fans cheer and shout to their hearts content even when there is no action to be spoken of. And why? Because these fans, in all their diversity of colors, all their variable sizes and shapes, and all their separate backgrounds, share one thing in common; they are members of one of the most passionate groups of fans alive today. More passionate, even, than the fans of numerous indy promotions.

The collective roar of these fans persists, even without provocation, as they await the next bit of action that UWE has prepared for them. Their wait is not a long one, however. These excited cheers are turned to boos and even laughter at the site of two faces: “The Desire” Fervor Falls and Ms. Desiree Dawson. Both Fervor and Ms. Dawson's faces are cloaked with seriousness as they are both shown in mid-shot view from the chest up as they stand in the middle of the ring. Fervor is clothed in his entrance gear while Ms. Dawson wears black aviator shades, a green blouse, and a diamond necklace.

“Good evening Blackout fans,” begins Ms. Dawson, “We sure hope you're enjoying the night so far. Fervor and myself requested airtime to speak with you tonight regarding Fervor's... behavior... last week. First we would like to apologize to the fans who were forced to witness such weakness of the part of Fervor's character. Please, allow me to ensure you that those actions were entirely uncommon for him. You need not be wary of similar instances in the future.

Secondly, allow me to offer a strong apology on Fervor's behalf to our wonderful Blackout announcer, Alex King. Fervor placing his hands on you was entirely uncalled for and intolerable. I am here to state now that we will personally refund any medical expenses you may have due to Fervor's, admittedly, heinous actions. However, we ask that you please not take Fervor's actions from last week personally. Fervor feels very passionately about the UWE and, in particular, the Blackout brand and lashed out in frustration due to the victory of a superstar from, in his opinion, a lesser brand: Showdown.

Third, I would like to extend an apology on the behalf of Fervor and myself to a very well respected member of our Blackout roster and a similarly respected face in the history of professional wrestling: Stoner.” Fervor visibly flinches before sucking his teeth and rolling his neck at the mention of Stoner's name, while, on the other hand, the fans burst into uproarious cheers. “Fervor's words last week were unfounded and hasty. They lacked professionalism and taste and, again, were the product of intense frustration due to a certain Showdown superstar.

However, Stoner, please do not get the message confused. This is not Fervor Falls backing down from your statements. Fervor is not, and never has been, any man's fodder, any man's jobber, and definitely not any man's afterthought. Fervor is impressed by your accomplishments; in fact he considers your accomplishments admirable. However, he does not fear you because of your accomplishments. Instead he expects more, which is why he expected you to win the Royal Rumble. It is frustrating to Fervor that a man of your accomplishments and your stature would fall just short of such an opportunity as a victory in the Royal Rumble match; and what's more, to have that loss come to a Showdown superstar.

You see, in Fervor's world to come so close as to be one of the final two participants remaining in the ring, especially given that you'd been in the ring for the entirety of the match... and then to lose... it gives the wrong indication. To Fervor, such a loss as the one you suffered indicates weakness, which is unacceptable for a wrestler of your stature. But then to tout that as an accomplishment? Well... I think I'll let Fervor finish this one.”

The fans begin to boo viciously as Fervor, oblivious to whatever noise it is they're making, stares menacingly into the camera, which is only obvious by his face, given his gold shaded eyes. After clearing his throat, Fervor begins, at a startlingly high volume, to speak. “Listen here, Stoner...”

A thundering voice booms through the arena.

"Are you serious?"

Stoner's begins to play and he emerges from the backstage, **** Title in his hand and a bewildered look on his face. He claps hands with the fans on the left side of the ramp and rolls in under the bottom rope. He walks over to the opposite corner of the one he had sat at last weeks and lets out a sigh as his music ends.

"Ok homie.  Duke getting on to me about the Rumble?  This Spit makes sense, he's my boss. And as my boss its up to him to make sure that his talent is in top form.  So him being all stressed out?  I get that."

He points at Fervor with his free hand.

"You on the other hand?  Doesn't make so much sense.  Makes more sense to me you're hoping to piggy-back off my hard ass work and try and get one over on the ol' Stonerman."

Before either of the two get the chance to retort, Stoner holds up a hand. Fervor seems to be losing any trace of cool he may have had previously and looks as if he wants to get the match started right now.

"Its a hypothetical thing.  We'll leave it at that.  But anyway, there's a general pattern to the way things work in this business I've noticed."

He nods his head as a smile comes to his face, an expression giving off the sense that he's figured out a secret he'd like to share.

"You see guy, when a person, lets say me for example, either wins or comes really close to winning something of major importance, two things happen.  One, they demand the focus be on them and take their place and at the helm of their respective program.  And thats all fine and dandy.  But then there's the other option, where the person tries to take...  A minor break type thing.  And if you try to interrupt that break, then for the sake of all that's good and holy you'd best hope you're a champion of some sort so that at least the rage will be justified."

He points at his pal again.

"You?  You're about to be in the way of my break type thing."

He points at himself now, his face to be more specific.

"This is my serious face Fervy."

Dramatic pause.

"Rage."

Dramatic head shake.

"You don't want it."

He winks and gives a finger gun as he hops off the post and sets his mic on the ground. Desiree Dawson gets out of the ring as Stoner and Fervor stare each other down, awaiting the entrance of Father Sanguine. Slowly, Fervor removes his shades and his chain, wrapping the chain around his hand but letting the shades drop to the floor.

However, before Sanguine can enter, Stoner launches an assault, catching Fervor off guard with a flurry of punches and forearms to the neck and back areas.  Fervor tries to retaliate with some stomach shots, before rolling out of the ring to catch his breath.

Alex: This is unexpected from Stoner, he’s starting off very strong.

Frank:  True, normally he’s content to take his time and wait for a mistake from his opponent.

A breath later, Stoner moonsaults himself off of the turnbuckle into the not-so-willing arms of Fervor as the two crash down to the mat.  Stoner throws a few more blows into Fervor’s head and goes for a pin.

1...

Kickout.

Alex:  Fervor might be caught off guard by Stoner’s moves, but he’s resilient.

Stoner rolls into the ring, sliding across and rolling back out the other side.  He reaches under the ring, pulling out a stop sign while Fervor looks for something on his side through dazed eyes.  Stoner rolls back into the ring, and as Fervor climbs in with a trash can lid, he dropkicks the sign at his opponent.

Frank:  Man, this is not Fervor’s best day.

Fervor takes the shot hard and hit’s the mat as Stoner jumps up to the top rope.  As he turns around, his foot slips out from beneath him, and he faceplants hard in the ring.

Alex: Oh my God!

Fervor takes advantage of the slip up as best he can, covering the Champion as best he can.  Despite a missing opponent, the ref starts a count.

1...

2...

3!!!!

Alex and Frank:  WHAT!

Bo Freeman:  Your winner, and NEW **** CHAMPION, Fervor Falls!

Stoner is unconscious and Fervor looks quite surprised, even for himself as the **** Title is brought in and handed to him.  A woman comes running jumps the railing and slides in under the bottom rope like she’s done it before.  She moves over Stoner, guarding him from Fervor and Ms. Dawson, both of whom seem happy just to get away from the mess.  As they walk away, the woman begins to check on Stoner again.

Alex:  Is he ok?  He fell pretty hard just there.

Frank:  I’m getting word in that the woman there is Melissa Celest, Stoner’s former love interest.  Her being here tonight is kind of random but…  Stoner hasn’t moved since being pinned.

The sentence hasn’t had time to be finished as the paramedics come out and are checking on Stoner.  Melissa walks backstage with Stoner and the paramedics, a worried look in her eyes.

Alex:  Stoner takes big risks all the time in there…  This time luck might not have been on his side.



The ring crew frantically rush about the ring, clearing up the ring which is littered with weapons from the previous **** championship match. The camera pans around the audience to give the crew chance to clean the ring and return it to its original state before whatever happens next...happens. The crowd here in Seattle are enthusiastic, every child desperate for their face to be seen they make as much noise as they can, only to be overpowered in voice by the drunken groups of guys, all of whom seem particularly rowdy.

As the crowd begins to simmer down, the voice of Laga Gaga of all people is heard on the sound system, her hit single Paparazzi begins to pump througout the arena, in an effect opposite to what most popular wrestlers manage to do this has fans who are standing up, sit back down onto their seats. Some see this opportunity as a toilet break whilst others chat amongst each other, although a few people look towards the entrance ramp, intrigued as to what this guy looks like, one thing is clear however and that is everyone assumes this guy to be another jobber. Out from behind the curtain struts a young, flamboyant man with long, dark and straightened hair, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, an affliction t-shirt and some kickass wrestling pants. The guy sports a natural tan, the announcement that he's from California suggests he could use the sunbeds too and he has a smile from ear-to-ear, in his mind he's finally made it. The striking good looks and charisma of this man attract a few more eyes, primarily from the female contingent, some of whom whistle or even scream at a high pitch. The overall noise is still rather low and most people don't give a damn about the guy, but it's a half decent first impression to say the least.

Before the man gets to the ring, he jogs a little, slides into the ring under the bottom ropes, turns onto his back and kips up to his feet in an almost sudden motion, for no other reason but to show off, but this impresses the ladies, not so much the guys however as one man close to the camera can be heard, in a deep voice mutter: "I can do that". Removing his t-shirt and showing off a physique that would rival any man the people are starting to realise "this ain't no jobber!" The music fades but no other music can be heard, this isn't match time no, no, this man's about to cut a promo as he takes a microfone. The guy starts speaking instantly.


Jack Marshall: Good evening ladies and...well, just the ladies as a matter of fact, I have no intentions of pleasuring any gentlemen tonight. My name is Jack Marshall and as you've probably guessed, I'm the newest member of Blackout. Obviously most of you people have never seen or heard of me in your life but I promise you, you are all witnessing something very historic right now. They say you only get once chance to make a first impression and looking at the sweat dripping from you ladies, the screams coming from your lungs and the sudden buldge inside that dude in the front rows pants, I'm doing a good job.

Up to his feet shot this guy in the front row that the joke was aimed at, attempting to jump over he's thwarted by security and is reduced to shouting profanities, which just encourage Marshall more who's tone of voice becomes dry as his speech is directed at one guy for the time being.

Shout as loud as you like, I have the microfone. Me with the microfone is like a women with the ****, I'm in control and tonight boy, your firing blanks so why don't you sit down, drink some more beers and drown the sorrow of the fact your just not me. Matter fact, that applies to every guy in this arena, just keep on drinking fellas because there's a reason why I'm in this ring and all your girlfriends are paying attention to me, not you.

If Jack plan coming out here was to get the crowd on his back, he's certainly doing a bang up job as a very masculine boo is heard in the arena. Sure it's cheap heat, but it's working and seems to be getting Jack noticed, so a slight smile forms on his face as a "you suck, you suck, you suck" chant quitely forms, though it is loud enough for him to hear it.

Again, obviously I don't suck because I'm a proffesional wrestler. I'll go home tonight, to my glammerous girlfriend, find out who really sucks and go to bed and if my neck gets sore using one pillow, maybe I can prop it up with my wallet containing all the money I've made from tonight's show, just so were clear that's money you people have earned, just to give to me. Now in comparision, you people will probably go home, order a pizza, get fatter, tell you friends about the show on facebook and then return to your mudane lives until next time we come through town.

So, enough about you people let's talk a little about me *clears throat* as stated earlier I'm from California and after receiving offers from plently wrestling organisations I decided to sign with UWE because, well, they was offering more money and for me, more money equals a better way of living. I'm also here to win Championships and make records, by the time I'm said and done they'll be releasing a book containing records I myself have broken so believe me, you guys better jump on the bandwagon now because once this rollercoaster starts, there ain't no pit stops.

Being from Hollywood I'm used to the glitz and glamour, I love things that revolve around me, ever since I was young I've had people watching me for once reason or another, I really am unique, I'm a one man show and I'm bringing class and style to Blackout. Mark this day down as a monumental day because today, history begins!



Match 2


Each of the four wrestlers assume their own corner in the ring, they know the Prime Time Championship is within touching distance and a victory for anyone here would help solidify their status as one of Blackout's elite. The bell sounds and each of the four wrestlers come walking towards the middle of the ring, everyone seems prepared to state their claim verbally as to why they're gonna be the first Champion, but James J is the first man to act on it, as he quickly steps backwards and pulls Chip Horton down by the pants, getting him in a schoolboy as he attempts the quick cover...

1...
..
Kickout! Before Chip even got a chance to kickout, both Maria and Adam Majors are there to break-up the count as they stomp at James, both kicking him hard, keeping James down as Maria now keeps on James, she carries on stomping at the former Intercontinental and **** Champion and before Chip can get back up to his feet, Adam Majors is there to grab him by the head, pull him up and then drive him face first into the closest turnbuckle, causing him to drop to his knees as Majors spins Chip around, keeping him backed up in the corner.

Maria meanwhile, has managed to keep James on the floor with quite a mean streak she has going, as she constantly kicks him in the stomach, preventing him from getting up and knocking the wind out of James in the process. In the corner, Chip's getting wailed on by Majors in the corner and now Majors Irish whips Chip, who goes running towards Maria, Chip sees an opportunity here as he extends his boot high into the face of Maria, knocking her flat out onto the mat and consequently out of the ring.


Frank:
Chip Horton doesn't care about sex.

Alex:
Frank, I can promise you that win, lose or draw Chip Horton will be getting more tonight than you ever...

Frank:
Shadd'up you dumb son of a ****! I'm sayin' Horton don't care bout who he's gotta go through to win that strap weather there male or female. Kids today, why's everything gotta be 'bout intercourse?

Chip now turns around to see not only Adam Majors staring at him, but James J too as both guys disapprove of his actions. Chip looks like he's about to charge at Adam Majors, but then thinks better of it as he puts the breaks on and drops out of the ring, hoping these two guy's will fight it out amongst themselves, he has no such luck however as standing right behind him on the outside is James J. Chip senses his presence and turns-right into a hard fist from James, knocking Horton down to the floor. An attempt to get back up from Chip is thwarted again by James, who drives him face first into the barricade and then rolls him back into the ring, right into the arms of a waiting Adam Majors, who's standing arms wide open waiting for Chip to get to a vertical basis.

On the outside, James sees Maria is still out of it and decides to see if he can help her at all, as he crouches next to her, trying to help her come round. Inside the ring, Majors ducks a punch from Chip and turns it into a German Suplex, keeping hold of Chip as the ref begins to count...

1...
..
...
2...
Kickout! James J shows his true colours by abandoning Maria and diving into the ring to break the count up, he's not risking Chip being unable to kickout. Up to his feet gets Adam Majors, shaking his head whilst looking at James "shouldn't have done that" he says, but James isn't backing down as the two have a brief stand-off before Majors is able to grab James around the waist and force him backwards into the turnbuckle but it doesn't stop there as Majors firstly starts driving the elbow into the gut of James with repeated shoulder thrusts until he then starts to hit some hard rights on James, keeping James off balance and Majors now wraps his arm around the head of James, runs out of the corner with him and bulldog's him right into the mat.

Deciding not to go for a cover, Adam walks around James slowly, before picking him back up to his feet and putting his head inbetween his legs, in position for the Forgotten in Time...back bodydrop from James J! James manages to survive for now, but Majors is right back up to his feet, he Irish whips James, but James returns and clotheslines him down to the mat now. Up Adam gets again and now James tries the Irish whip, which is reversed by Majors, sending Jowers into the corner but James uses the ropes to propel himself up and attempting to go over Majors, but Adam catches him on his left shoulder. Thinking of an Oklahoma Slam, James squashes that idea by sliding down his back, before Majors can turn around James had ascended to the top ropes and comes off with a high crossbody. James doesn't cover, but he gets Majors up to his feet, sets him up Go To Sleep!!! James got him, he's got the match here as he covers to become the first ever Grand Slam Champ...

1...
..
...
2...
..
...
Kickout! Majors wasn't getting out of that for a long time, but Chip Horton on the outside managed to pull James off Majors just in the nick of time, all the way out of the ring with him infact as he grabs Jowers by the head and smashes it into the turnbuckle post, Chip now slides into the ring in an attempt to pick up the scraps left by James J. He drops an elbow across the stomach of Majors and covers...

1...
..
...
2...
Kickout! Majors had enough time to recover and kicks out with ease this time. Back into the ring, although spagetti legged, is James J and he takes a DDT from Chip Horton for his troubles. Chip now runs at Majors and dropkicks him right out of the ring through the second and third ropes as he now switches attention onto James. Bringing Jowers up to his feet, Chip now attempts an Irish whip, but this is reversed by James, who goes under Chip's arm, pulling Horton towards himself and clotheslining him to the ground. Seeing that Majors is about to get into the ring, James now baseball slides Adam, taking him back down on the outside. James hits the opposite ropes and comes back towards Majors, diving through the ropes and both men go crashing over the announce table as the wreckage occurs, two men, lots of papers and a television monitor are on the floor.

Eager to join the action, Chip rolls out of the ring where he sees Maria, unsure where she is and just struggling to get up. A smile occurs on Chip's face as he opts against James J or Adam Majors, instead he rolls Maria back into the ring, wasting no time in jumping back in after her. Chip grabs the legs of Maria and locks in the BSE!! If every a submission hold has been expectly applied then it's here as Maria is in a World of trouble...she taps!! The pain is too much and there isn't enough fight in her body to escape, Chip Horton wins the Championship!


Main Event

« Last Edit: July 18, 2009, 09:28:11 pm by ANJCVD » Report Spam   Logged


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