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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 20:52:07 GMT
The crowd pop like mad as the theme music for CCW Unleashed, “Breathe” by The Prodigy www.youtube.com/watch?v=zonX0Me6EZ4&search=prodigy%20breathe plays as the opening video shows various CCW Unleashed superstars in action…
The pyro erupts inside the ScotiaBank Palace in Ottawa, and the crowd bounce up and down in anticipation, waving signs of support for their favourite Unleashed superstars!Ross: Good evening everyone, and welcome to CCW Unleashed, LIVE from Ottawa, where tonight we have an amazing show for you, packed with rematch action from Brutal Encounter! Heyman: Indeed, JR! Tonight Lance Leonard attempts to get revenge on Thomas Richards, Cowards DESTROYS Donny Ramon, and Josh Violence proves just how much of a fighting champ he is by battling Georgy Moscow! Ross: Personally, Paul, I think he has a little case of the limbertail. Anyway, let's get on with the show!
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 20:54:49 GMT
The sound of Emma Bunton's cover of the Petula Clark classic "Downtown" blasts down the corridor backstage at Unleashed! It seems to be coming from the locker room of the CCW National Champion, the Herefordian Hero - Cowards. Upon closer inspection, it is. The sound of Emma Bunton is drowned out by the noise of Cowards singing along to the words...
Badly.
Cowards: (Singing) Downtown! Things will be brighter there. Downtown! Things will be lighter there. Downtown! Everyone's waiting for...
Cowards' locker room door swings open. Inside the locker room, Cowards is stood in front of the mirror with his hair tied up in pigtails (a pony tail at either side) and is singing into a hairbrush. Oh, he's also naked.
Cowards: ... You.... SON OF A BITCH!!
With a look of sheer terror, Cowards slips over of the floor attempting to grab a towel. So, basically, he's lying face down on the floor, naked.
Kelly: Oh god!
Cowards: What the fuck are you doing??!
Cowards begins to stand up and grabs a towel to cover up his manhood. Of which there is plent-ay.
Kelly: Um... I was going to get an interview off you. But, I mean, I'm sure we've got enough footage here to put in the show tonight.
Cowards: Why didn't you knock?
Kelly: We...
Cowards: We? Who else is behind this?
Kelly: Alright, I...
Cowards: Don't change the story, Nick. You'd need to keep your story straight when the cops hear about this!
Kelly: Why do the police need to be involved?
Cowards: Sexual harassment.
Kelly: What?
Cowards: I saw you checking me out. Your eyes staring a hole straight through this towel.
Kelly: I'm married. Why would I be looking at your genitals?
Cowards: Why wouldn't you be?
Kelly: Because I'm NOT gay!
Cowards: You don't have to be gay to appreciate this!
Kelly: I like vagina. I like breasts. I LIKE WOMEN!
Cowards: That's what they all says. Except for Razor Ramon... Haitch. Gee.
Kelly: Huh?
Cowards: My opponent. They flew in Hard Gay all the way from Osaka for me to decimate, assimilate and penetrate... Uh... Except the latter. And maybe the second, as I don't have a clue as to what it means.
Kelly: Assimilation is the process of nutrients being converted into the fluids or substances of the body through digestion and absorption.
Cowards: I see.
Kelly: Interesting stuff
Cowards: Yeah. How did you know that?
Kelly: I have a PhD in Biological Science.
Cowards: Really?! What University did you go to?
Kelly: Boston.
Cowards: Wow. My brother's boyfriend went there. Seems to be a hotbed for queers.
Kelly: Um...
Cowards: So, yeah. Hard Gay. You gonna pay!
Kelly: Hard Gay?
Cowards: Uh huh. Ramon.
Kelly: What?
Cowards: He's my opponent for tonight! And I'm gonna knock that anime bastard down a peg. Send him back to his communist state battered and bruised. But then I'm going to have to beat them all up, because communists believe in equality. So I'm going to have to go round Japan and kick all of them in, in the exact same way I did to Hard Gay. It might take months, but that's communism for you. Crazy idiots.
Kelly: Japan is a democracy.
Cowards: Well that sucks. I was really looking forward to beating up a load of communists.
Kelly: And you're opponent isn't Hard Gay. It's Donny Ramon.
Cowards: Oh. Um... Where's he from?
Kelly: Cuba?
Cowards: Excellent!
Cowards walks out of the locker room, but the towel gets snagged on the door, and is pulled off his body.
Cowards: (Out of shot) Well, hello Mr. Versus.
A sound similar to a watermelon being shot with a cannon is heard.
Cowards: OH GOD!! Please STOP HITTING ME THERE!!
*Fade to black*
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 20:57:24 GMT
The camera opens up with Donny Ramon walking in the parking lot area, smoking his fine cigar.
Ramon: Now this, is one good cigar.
He takes another puff, and he turns around to see Nick Kelly standing right there in front of him. Ramon jumps up and drops his cigar. Ramon then yells and screams. He looks up slowly at Kelly, who is just standing there once again not doing a thing.
Ramon: You Son of a bitch! You made me drop my damn cigar! Damn it, that was my last one. How long were you standing there?
Kelly: About ten seconds.
Ramon just stares at him.
Kelly: What?
Ramon: Did you see what you made me do? You made me drop one of the most expensive cigars out there. It was a Brazilian cigar, hand-made right in front of the little shop while I was down there. So Kelly, what are you going to do to help me?
Kelly: Um, I don't know.
Ramon: Know what, forget it. So, why are you here?
Kelly: Don't you know? You have a match against the National champion, and a member of the Monsters Of Pro Wrestling, Cowards.
Ramon: Oh really? I'm stuck in a match with him?
Kelly: Uh, yeah.
Ramon: Well then, I guess I need to get ready.
Ramon starts to walk off, but Kelly stops him.
Kelly: Wait, what about my interview?
Ramon: Interview? You want an interview with me? Fine, here's your interview:
Cowards, you need to learn that when you step into the ring with Donny Ramon, you're going up against one of the baddest, toughest, best up-and-coming wrestlers in the business and when the match is over, you will be down for the count, courtesy of The Puerto Rican Special. Also, I'm seeking something that you have: the National championship. So, watch out, Cowards, because I'm coming to take it.
Ramon walks off, as the screen fades to black.
********************************************
“Puerto Rican Power” plays over the speakers across the arena as the crowd cheers when they recognize the theme. A figure comes out in a Hawaiian shirt, smoking a cigar and sashays down the ramp, nodding his head at all of people calling his name.
DING, DING, DING
Buffer “The following non-title contest is scheduled for one fall, making his way to the ring and weighing in at 284 lbs, from San Juan, PR, please welcome Donny Ramon!”
Donny mounts the steel steps and slips into the ring with coolness and fluidity, living up to his familiar characteristics. He spins around in the ring and stubs out his cigar in the center of the ring. Depositing it into the pocket of his shirt, he pulls it off and rolling it up, throws both items into the crowd. Multiple people jump for them, but they land in the hands of a burly man with a dirty white shirt who’s smoking a cigar of his own. Officials come over and look like they’re asking him to extinguish it and when he refuses they cart him off camera, likely to be kicked out.
Donny laughs, but his smile diminishes when the lights go out to be replaced by a strobe at the head of the ramp while “Run Like Hell” begins to play. When the guitar hits, a rain of sparks shoot down from the titantron and the lights go back to normal in rapid succession. Smoke quickly rises up from the floor and through the murky fog a man who even the Canadians refuse to tolerate makes his appearance.
Buffer “His opponent, weighing in at 257 lbs, from the Hereford, England, please welcome the National Champion, Cowards!”
The crowd welcomes him with booing and acute animosity that the bane of the Queen’s country has bizarrely come to desire and embrace. Almost in response, Cowards holds up his title and as he runs down the ramp, he connects it with as many fan heads as are stupid to stick their cranium out in front of him. He slides through the ring and is up quick enough to stop Donny from advancing and gaining an advantage of violence before the bell rings.
The referee takes the title from Cowards, despite his less than eagerness at giving it up, even for just a few moments. Absentmindedly, the referee goes to hold the title up, but Cowards spins him around and yells at him that the title isn’t on the line. He looks on the verge of slapping the referee, but is stopped when Donny slips his arms around Cowards into a full nelson, having sneaked up behind him. The referee relinquishes the title to an official and has the bell rung.
DING, DING, DING
JR “Ladies and gentlemen, we want to remind you that this match isn’t for the National title, despite the referee forgetting for a moment.”
Heyman “That ref should be fired, JR! He is an abomination to all that would call themselves officials! And thank god, for once, that Cowards doesn’t have to defend his title!”
JR “Well, that’s true. For the past two weeks, the National championship has been on the line.”
Heyman “And yet, our GM Bret Hart, lines up the men and Cowards knocks them down. He is the most dominant force in CCW!”
Donny lifts the Hereford native up into a full nelson slam. He flexes for the crowd and turns back to his opponent, dropping down with a knee to his head. Donny pulls him up into a front face lock, gearing up for a vertical suplex, but out of the sight of the referee, Cowards sends a thumb to where he thinks Donny’s eyes are. He manages to scare Ramon enough to for him to hesitate, which Cowards takes advantage of by spinning them both around and dropping down into a neck breaker.
Standing, he sends some kicks into the midsection of Donny and looks out for approval to the audience with a sick grin on his face. Of course, he receives none and in response grabs Donny’s left arm and kneels, sending his knee into the head of Ramon. He holds it there longer than necessary and the referee begins a five count. Cowards takes full advantage of those four seconds before relenting. He pulls Donny up to his knees and standing behind him, Cowards begins to lock in a rear naked choke.
JR “Things aren’t looking too good for the San Juan native.”
Heyman “No one can escape the Cowardly Clutch, JR. No one!”
Suddenly, before Cowards’ arms can meet, Donny comes alive, grabbing them and uses momentum to send Cowards over his shoulder with an Ippon Seoi Nage (over shoulder judo throw). Donny rises up with fists raised as though channeling the spirit of Hulk Hogan and watches Cowards gets to on knee. He Irish whips himself, racing past the MoPW member and when he returns, hops onto Cowards’ exposed knee twisting his free shin into the side of his opponent’s head with a shining wizard. Cowards drop down as Donny makes the first pin of the match.
“One.....”
Cowards kicks out at one and a half as the crowd express their disappointment. Donny sits up and turning Cowards over, tries for a crossface. As he tries to lock his hands together, Cowards smartly flops to his side and grabs hold of the bottom rope. The referee yells for the hold to break before it’s even begun and as Donny rises, he is forced back by the official, allowing Cowards to dwell in the safety of the ropes. He slowly stands, looking at his opponent with a hurt expression, as though to say he’s upset Donny would try something like that. Donny advances, but Cowards ducks under the top rope and the referee backs Ramon away. Cowards looks at the audience with a goofy grin; amused that he’s able to get away with so much. The referee checks with him and he finally comes fully back into the ring.
Raising his arms, Cowards motions to Donny that they should have a contest of strength, to which Ramon is wary, but finally relents. He goes to grasp Cowards’ hands, but instead receives a kick to the midsection. The Hereford native follows it up by pulling Donny’s head under his shoulder, lifting him up and then planting him into the mat with a lifting DDT. Cowards rolls Ramon and covers him.
“One.....”
Donny gets a shoulder up at one and a half and Cowards responds by pushing his shoulder back down and putting an elbow across the side of Ramon’s face, looking for a second pin.
“One.”
Donny kicks out at one even this time and Cowards takes even greater offense to this, but bites his lip to try to control his rage. He pulls Donny up and shoulders him into the nearest corner. He lifts both of Ramon’s legs onto the second rope so that he looks like a wish bone. When the referee comes over, Cowards makes a shocked face and points to the entrance ramp. The referee sees the lumbering figure of Marnie come and try to get into the ring. He goes over to stop him, giving Cowards the perfect opportunity to punish his opponent. Cowards backs away and admires the helplessness of Donny which brings a smile to his face. His grin quickly fades to a frown as he races forward and sends a vicious knee to the exposed groin of Ramon.
“OW!”
JR “This is god awful. The enforcer of MoPW comes down, drawing the attention of the official which allows Cowards to cheat and gain an advantage over Donny.”
Heyman “By any mean necessary, JR. You win matches however you can. Cowards knows this and is willing to do what needs to be done. And that’s why he’ll remain our National champ.”
Marnie backs away, holding up his hands like he’s done nothing wrong and allows the official to turn his attention back to the match. He sees Cowards pushing Ramon into a sitting position on the turnbuckle as he crawls up with him. Standing over him, Cowards rains down a punch to his face, then another and another while the audience begins to chant their favorite wrestler of the match in succession of the punches.
“RAMON! RAMON! RAMON!”
Cowards throws his arm over Donny’s head and grabs his black and red trunks while pushing both men towards the top ropes. The crowd bursts into excitement when Donny surprisingly sends some fists to the side of Cowards. Cowards tries to ignore the pain and lift his opponent up into a superplex, but Donny beats him to the punch by lifting Cowards up and diving forward. They both come down in a top rope side slam that takes the wind out of both men. Donny rolls away, towards the ropes and stays there, gaining back some strength. Cowards blinks, looking up at the rafters as though not all there while Donny slowly gets up, using the ropes to steady him.
Donny stumbles over to Cowards and pulls him up, locking in a front facelock and as he grabs Cowards’ pants, flips him over with a vertical suplex. Keeping hold of his opponent, Donny spins over and pulls Cowards into another and finally a third, completely his Three Amigos. Donny goes for the pin.
“One.....two.....”
Cowards kicks out at two and a half as the audience expresses their dismay. Donny takes hold of Cowards’ arm and uses it to pull him up. He then snaps the arm, trying to pull it out of its socket. He does it again and then again, but after the third time, Cowards grabs Donny’s arm with his free hand and sends him into an Irish whip. Cowards extends his arm, looking to wrap it around Donny’s neck, but Ramon ducks under and goes into the opposite ropes. On his return, he jumps to the side and falls into Cowards with a running crossbody. Both men go down and Donny rolls him up into a pin.
“One.....two.....”
Cowards gets an arm up at two and a half and again the crowd is disappointed. Donny gets up and sees Marnie starting to get into the ring. He races over and sends a shoulder block into the stomach of the monster. Donny stands quickly, grabbing the massive head of the MoPW member and drops down as Marnie’s chokes on the rope. He falls backwards and lands on the outside mat. Donny scouts the area as Marnie gets up and Ramon hops over the top ropes and lands onto the giant, sending him back down to the mat, but takes as much out of him as the meddler.
Heyman “What the hell is Ramon doing attacking Marnie for no good reason?”
JR “Well, Marnie wasn’t trying to get into the ring or anything. Personally, when an animal gets uppity, the only thing to do is get rough with it. But Donny paid the price and now the referee starts a ten count.”
1.....
2.....
3.....
Cowards is on his knees using the opposite ropes to rise up.
4.....
5.....
Donny starts to stir and move towards the apron.
6.....
7.....
Donny pulls himself up to the apron.
8.....
Ramon rolls into the ring allowing the count to end, but gets a boot to the face from a rejuvenated Cowards. The referee warns Cowards, but he gets ignored as the Hereford native pulls Donny up. He leans over and pulls the man up onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry. Cowards looks out to the booing crowd with a smile. Taking his left hand, he licks his first (index?) finger and points it into static air as though making a check with it. He then flips Donny over with a powerslam and slides down for a pin.
“One.....two.....”
The audience hold their breath holding for a kick out or raised shoulder, but get none.
"Three."
DING, DING, DING
Buffer “Here is your winner, the National Champion, Cowards!”
JR “Donny got distracted by Marnie, allowing Cowards to pick up a win with the Hereford Hangover and I can’t say I’m really impressed.”
Heyman “Oh, come on, JR. Cowards does what he has to do. I already said this. It’s what makes him such a dominant champion and the MVP of the MoPW.”
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 20:59:24 GMT
The camera fades in from black to reveal Lance Leonard with Nick Kelly.
Nick Kelly: Lance, tonight you face Thomas Richards in one-on-one action, the show after you two were the last remaining competitors in the Team Unleashed vs Monsters of Pro Wrestling elimination match at Brutal Encounter. How do you feel going into this match, considering Richards defeated you last Sunday?
Lance Leonard: Defeated me? Nick, anyone with the brains they were born with who watched that match saw that referee go through more counts in a minute than a Romanian whore at an all-night orgy. One, two, three four five sixseveneightnineten! How in the hell he expected me to get back in the ring before the ten count is anyone's guess. I'll go on record right now and say that referee was crooked.
Nick: It seemed like a fair count to me.
Lance: Nick, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: if I want your opinion, I'll give it to you. Next question.
Nick: How are you managing to concentrate with your opponent tonight, knowing that Griffin Young may well be wanting to settle your feud in the near future? Do you think he might get involved in some way in order to get your attention?
Lance: As far as my feud with Griffin Young is concerned, my opinion is thus: I have no feud with Griffin Young. I have wrestled him on not one, but two occasions, and on both occasions, outcome aside, I have proven myself to be the superior wrestler. At Brutal Encounter, he himself acknowledged this by submitting to a little Chemical Suggestion. You see, Nick, Young may be as much of an immature child as his name implies, but he's not entirely stupid. He knows as well as you or me that sooner or later he needs to wipe the snot from his nose, stop pretending to be in the big leagues, and take a long drive back to the Rocky Mountains until he's ready.
Nick: What about Thomas Richards? Do you consider him to be in your league?
Lance: Thomas Richards is everything I made him. Over half a year ago, I stretched this man to the limit twice, and he earned my respect as a competitor. As a man, however... it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I despise Thomas Richards. For the longest time he was the only black spot on my record, and even though I've been beaten since, that burns within me on a personal and professional level. That's not to say I'm going to go out there and obliterate Thomas Richards; No, rather, I intend to school him on the mysteries of technical wrestling and go one up over him. This isn't the rubber match, and this won't settle the score in his tiny little mind, but it will be revenge for a travesty of justice that saw Team Unhygenic defeat the greatest faction the world has ever seen at the last PPV. Is that all?
Nick: Yes, thank you. Good luck tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Lance Leonard.
Kelly walks off camera, and Leonard loosens out his neck and shoulder muscles. A black gloved hand appears at his shoulder, and the camera pans out to reveal Max Macbeth standing beside him.
Max: You alright?
Lance: Been better. If you see him, tell Cowards to keep a close eye on Griffin Young.
Max: Way ahead of ya, kid.
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 21:01:09 GMT
INT. RICHARDS’ LOCKER ROOM
Lion treads lightly on his feet, circling his locker and getting ready for tonight’s contest. He stops and walks toward a punching bag in his room, and begins hitting it repeatedly with forearms and high kicks. There is a knock at the door.
Lion: Come in.
Lion stops and looks toward the door, where Griffin Young stands tall. Lion sweeps back his hair with his hand and rests his hand on his beard, then walks over toward Young, retrieving a towel from the top of his small wardrobe. Young continues to stand in the same position, and then walks toward the swinging punching bag. Young holds it still and then hits it hard with a right and steps back as it swings almost off its chain and dust piles from the ceiling.
Lion: What can I do for you?
Young walks away from the bag and leans on the wall, breathing rapidly but indiscreetly.
Young: You did well for our team at BE.
Lion: Not exactly.
There is a small silence, Young then nods his head and realises what he means.
Young: We were just three more steps on that ladder to the top?
Lion: Nothing personal, Griffin. That title looks pretty friendly, especially when it’s right in front of you.
Young: No sweat. I came here, actually, to wish you luck on the Leonard match. You don’t need it, of course.
Lion is silent and then laughs to himself. He stands, and walks toward Griffin, where both men’s eyes meet.
Lion: I won’t let you down.
Young: Just leave some of him for me.
Lion: I don’t intend to obsess with his destruction. My eyes are on Violence. They all drop like flies, and the bigger they are, the easier to swat them. Violence is just a big slow fly with a lot of gold on his shoulder, a trash-talking funny looking bastard who is just waiting to be annihilated. Winning the greatest prize on display…I’m starting to like the idea.
Lion and Young smile, and shake each other’s hands.
Young: Just so as long as you know, though…this friendship doesn’t mean that I’m not going to take that away from you eventually.
Lion: In this business I don’t make friends, Griffin. You just end up breaking them. Someday you’ll see what I mean.
The grasp between the two hands tighten on both ends, then they both let go grinning, and Lion steps back to wrap his duster around him. He walks out the room clicking his neck from side to side, leaving Young amused. Young walks toward the punching bag, and hits it again will full force, and it swings off its chain crashing to the floor.
Young: (walking out of the room) Someday…
Camera fades to black...
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 21:11:30 GMT
Shallow plays around the arena. A small pyro explosion can be seen on stage as Leonard appears, clad in his usual robe. Blue and gold spotlights search around the arena as Leonard takes off his robe and enters the ring. He then climbs turnbuckle to second rope and extends his arms outwards, throwing back his head as a row of fireworks, coloured blue and gold, run across the ring behind him.
JR: Well, these two men have certainly had some battles before in the past. Who could forget their unsettled two match series from earlier this year?
Heyman: This one is going to settle the score, JR. Brutal Encounter was a fluke: Richards won by a fast count out. They’re still one and all.
Fire rises from the stage slowly, the emphatic drum beat of Kashmir pounding through the arena. from behind the curtain steps a coated Thomas Richards, striding to the ring peering round at the crowd. He steps through the ropes and climbs a turnbuckle, staring out at the crowd as the contours of his face extrude. He does the same for the opposite corner and then drops to throw off his coat and roar at the crowd. The fire at the stage diminishes immediately and Richards' face keeps stern.
The bell rings, and the match begins.
Leonard adopts a shoot stance as Richards comes towards him, ducking slightly to find a weak link in Richards’ defence. After circling each other, Leonard finds one, and goes to hit a low kick that Richards’ wheels away from. Leonard turns and they face each other again. Slowly, Richards begins to extend his right hand, looking to match up in a test of strength. Leonard responds in kind, and the two men touch each other for the first time in the match, fumbling over each other’s fingers as they attempt to lock up. Momentarily distracted, Richards doesn’t see the shoot kick from Leonard coming, and it connects with a slap to his thigh. Richards backs up and Leonard uses sign language to sarcastically ask what the matter is.
JR: Leonard of course with that Muy Thai background.
They walk forwards again, and once more go for a Graeco-Roman lock up, the left hands of both men meeting but finding no purchase. Richards breaks it and extends his fingers, inviting Leonard to come to him. Leonard breaks the stance, stands straight and gestures at Richards.
Leonard: You’re nothing but a fucking coward! Come on!
Richards puts his hands on his hips and grins sardonically, almost getting caught out as Leonard slides down across the mat, looking for a leg trip. Richards steps out of reach and jogs away backwards, Leonard getting to his feet again.
Heyman: The mind games of Leonard coming into play!
JR: He’s a crafty competitor for sure, is the former CCW Champion.
The two finally meet in the middle, their right hands finding purchase against one another in a knucklelock. Their left arms slowly follow suit, and The Lion roars into the test of strength. Their arms extend out to the sides and curve against each other as both men try to force each other backwards. Their bodies slam against each other as muscle strains against muscle. Leonard places his forehead into Lion’s shoulder, increasing the strain on the left arm. But Richards ducks underneath Leonard’s arms, finding the momentum to move forward and arch the back of the former champion. Richards now has literally the upper hand as Leonard finds himself being pushed slowly backwards onto the mat.
JR: Richards seemingly getting the better of Leonard in the test of strength.
Leonard is forced into a bridge, his head, toes and knuckles touching the mat as he keeps his shoulders off. Still holding Leonard in a double knucklelock, Richards lifts himself off his feet and drives his knees down into the chest of Leonard. This proves ineffective, as Leonard finds himself equal to the impact and maintains the bridge. Richards attempts the same thing again, but this time Leonard pulls out of the bridge and meets Richards’ aerial body with his feet, forcing Richards to stand and pull Leonard with him. Leonard uses the see-saw momentum to throw himself over the top of his opponent, executing a sunset flip which in turn is reversed, with Richards rolling to his feet, grabbing the legs of Leonard and attempting to cross them for the Bankrupt submission hold. Leonard kicks out of this and rolls sideways to a vertical base.
JR: Richards was looking for the Bankrupt, his modified Texas Cloverleaf there…
Heyman: …But Leonard had the presence of mind to escape it. Great wrestling by the Crown Prince of Catch.
Leonard and Richards go into a collar and elbow tie-up, with Leonard immediately dropping to the mat and executing an armdrag. Richards rolls up again but is caught in a headlock takeover and anchored to the mat with the hold.
JR: Now Leonard showing off his judo skills somewhat, before going to the time-tested manoeuvre that is the grounded headlock.
The facial expression of Leonard shows the effort he is putting into vicing the temples of Richards. However, Richards finds a good grip around the waist of Leonard and rolls him backwards, pinning him for a quick two count. As Leonard kicks out, Richards finds himself back in the headlock, but with a one-foot base on which to build. He slowly pushes himself back to a standing position while in the headlock and twists out of it, holding on to Leonard’s arm as he attempts a high elbow test of strength. Before he can be pushed back once again, though, Leonard uses his free right hand to take a hold of Richards’ hair and slams him down to the mat, following up again quickly with the headlock.
Again, Richards twists his body around, getting his knee underneath his body and using it to push himself up to both feet. He then walks sideways, pushing Leonard onto the north set of ropes and using it to bounce his body off and execute a rolling takedown, rolling Leonard’s shoulders sideways and escaping the hold. Both men get to their feet, and Leonard charges Richards, who sidesteps and allows Leonard to run the north ropes before dropping to his stomach. Leonard steps over, runs to the south set and goes to shoulderblock Richards, who takes the impact and remains standing. Leonard looks surprised at the fact he was unable to knock Richards down, but quickly hides it. Richards begins to trash talk and flexes his right bicep somewhat. Leonard sneers and tells Richards to try a shoulderblock. Richards laughs and is eventually convinced, taking off to the west ropes. Leonard crouches, steeling himself for the impact. However, the shoulderblock that eventually comes is a thunderous one, knocking Leonard off his feet and landing him hard on his shoulders. He rolls backwards with the momentum and crawls as fast as he can to the north-east turnbuckle, holding his shoulder in pain and shock.
Heyman: What the hell was that!?
JR: If Leonard was showing his martial arts expertise before, then the rugby training of the British Lion is now coming into play. What a vicious shoulderblock that was, and not for the first time in this match, Leonard has found himself overpowered by his opponent.
Richards follows up, stomping away at the chest of Leonard as he tries to stand in the corner. He then hits a stiff knife edge chop that has Leonard reeling, using the east ropes to keep himself up as he staggers away. Richards catches up with him, puts his back against the ropes and Irish whips him. As Leonard comes back off the far set of ropes, he is met by a huge back body drop that elevates him an extra three feet off the floor. He hits the ground agonisingly, and rolls out of the ring under the bottom rope for a breather. Richards goes to follow but is cut off by the referee.
Leonard holds his back and points at Richards, still trying to maintain the psychological upper hand. Slowly he makes it up onto the apron, meeting the oncoming Richards with a shoulder to the gut. However, Richards steels it out and hits clubbing blows to the back of Leonard before standing him straight and hooking the head. He goes to suplex Leonard back into the ring, but Leonard drops behind and locks in a waistlock. Richards elbows Leonard’s left arm, breaking his grip and switches behind himself for a waistlock. However, Leonard takes hold of the left wrist of Richards with his right hand, reaches underneath Richards’ left arm with his left and takes hold of his own right wrist. He then turns, breaking Richards’ grip and holding him in a kimura lock. He nods towards the south ropes underneath which he himself rolled before, declaring his intention to force Richards to the outside. As both men run forwards, however, Richards drops to the mat and sends Leonard in between the top and middle ropes to the outside. Richards then gets to his feet, runs towards the north ropes, rebounds and hits a suicide dive in between the top and middle ropes, slamming forearm-first into Leonard’s jaw. Leonard staggers back and goes tumbling over the barricade out of sight.
JR: Astonishing move by Thomas Richards, putting his body at risk in order to pull off that insidious strike to the face of Leonard. The ex-champion is stunned, lying prone in a sea of humanity.
Richards, breathing slightly heavily, pulls himself to his feet and reaches over the barricade, pulling Leonard to his feet by his hair. This time, he completes a suplex, bringing Leonard back to the ringside area with a standard vertical. He then lifts Leonard again and rolls him under the bottom rope, following up with a lateral press.
One!
Two!
No!
Leonard shoulders up, and gets a stiff jab in the face for his troubles from Richards’ closed fist. The referee admonishes the Lion, who nods and lifts Leonard to his feet again, this time hitting a body slam. He then begins his ascent to the top rope, but is crotched as Leonard pushes the referee into the south ropes. The crowd boos loudly as the ref falls outside of the ring.
JR: That’s a despicable move!
Heyman: Oh, Lance Leonard was trying to get the referee to do his job and count Richards out. He just doesn’t know his own strength.
Leonard slowly gets to his feet and climbs up to the middle rope, hitting Richards with several right hands. He then hooks Richards’ head for the superplex, but the British Lion fights back with shots to the stomach that have Leonard reeling. Leonard fights back with a headbutt to the nose of Richards, and another, and then ascends to the top rope, pulling Richards up in preparation for a superplex. He hits it!
JR: Woah, what amazing impact. These two men could be knocked out.
A close up shot shows that Richards’ eyes are closed. He grimaces in his half-conscious state.
Leonard begins to move, gradually getting to his feet. He sees that the referee is knocked out, and staggers to the edge of the ring, shouting down to revive him. The ref begins to stir, as does Richards. Leonard turns to him, and motions to the crowd a choking taunt, laughing as he does so.
JR: What’s he going for here? You don’t think…?
Richards gets to his feet, and walks right into a double-handed choke by Leonard. He struggles in it with whatever energy remains in him after the suplex, but Leonard lowers his head and hits a nasty knee lift that stuns him. He then lifts Richards off the mat, and hits the Breakdown!
Heyman: Wow! What a great new move Leonard has added to his repertoire, he is so inventive! No wonder he’s the leader of the Monsters of Pro Wrestling.
JR: That’s Griffin Young’s Breakdown, that choking spinebuster. Leonard is trying to taunt the young man he eliminated last Sunday from the elimination tag match.
Leonard gets to his feet and laughs, again calling for the referee to get in the ring. The British Lion begins to stir once again behind him, but the crowd roars as a new figure makes his way down the ramp. Griffin Young slides into the ring behind Leonard, and catches the astonished Monster with both hands as he turns around, hitting a Breakdown as fast as possible with maximum impact.
JR: Griffin Young must have been watching from the gorilla position, he’s just injected himself into this match with authority!
Heyman: Blatant disrespect for the rules, someone disqualify Richards!
Young rolls underneath the ropes and rolls the referee back into the ring. Richards covers Leonard and hooks the leg as he does so.
One!
Heyman: No!
Two!
Heyman: Nnoo!!
Three!
JR: Three! Richards has picked up the victory! His first ever pinfall win over Lance Leonard.
Heyman: No! That can’t count! Leonard was screwed!
Max Macbeth, Cowards and Marnie run to the ring as Young and Richards scarper, the former raising the hand of the latter in victory.
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 21:14:36 GMT
Georgy pulls out a kazoo and starts playing a tune. Every once in a while he stops and sings “It’s my time… my time to shine!” Kimberly Jordan walks up and grabs the kazoo.
Kimberly: Shut up! Can you do anything normal?
She throws the kazoo into a nearby garbage can.
Kimberly: So how do you…
Kimberly stops talking, because she can clearly see Georgy Moscow is not paying attention. He is rather transfixed on the garbage can. He glances over with Kimberly and then back over to the garbage can. To Kimberly, to the garbage can, he then commits. He runs full out towards the garbage can and jumps in. The garbage can tips over with Moscow stuck inside. It starts rolling around on the ground with Moscow screaming.
Moscow: Help! Help me Kimberly!
She groans and walks over to the garbage can. She swings her leg back and starts kicking the garbage can. The noise is unbearable and Moscow starts screaming louder. His screams however turn into kazoo notes as he slips out of the garbage can. He gets to his knees and then to his feet. He rushes over and hugs Kimberly in a soft beer hug.
Moscow: Thank you! You saved my life!
There is an obvious look of dissatisfaction on her face as she rolls her eyes. She stabs her microphone into Moscow’s side and he lets go. Moscow then puts the kazoo down his pants.
Moscow: I am ready for my interview.
Kimberly: Great… So how do you feel about your chances of winning tonight against the Heavyweight Champion, Josh Violence?
Moscow: How I always feel. I feel like I will win. I always win.
Kimberly: You have won once, by a complete fluke in your whole career.
Moscow: But I feel like winning.
Kimberly: That’s just great. What do you think about the current champion, Josh Violence?
Moscow: He is mean. He wants to beat my “fat ass”. I know it’s not small, but I thought it was about average. No? Anyways as always I will never disappoint out there. I have a little secret up my sleeve.
Kimberly: Looking forward to it. I think we are about done here.
Moscow: Boo. Me want to talk you more. You are very, very, very… very, very attractive. And I am in love.
Georgy closes his eyes and leans forward for a kiss. He does not receive it, and when he opens his eyes Kimberly Jordan is completely gone. Moscow shrugs and thinks to himself that she must have gone somewhere important. Georgy pulls out his kazoo again from his pants and starts playing again.
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 21:15:37 GMT
A camera fades in from black, & opens up on a lone shot of the CCW World Heavyweight Champion . . . "Big Daddy" Josh Violence.
Violence is sitting hunched over against the edge of a blue folding chair . . . & bottle of Hot Damn 100 Proof Cinnamon flavored Schnapps in the balled up fist of his right hand . . . as he stares down at the floor with a look of intense concentration.
The Championship belt is wrapped around his waist . . . the gold glistening through the dull red X that is painted across the face plate . . . & elicits a boo from those in attendance, as they are reminded of the events that took place at "Brutal Encounter". Violence merely snarls at the sound, as he can hear them through a speaker in his ear, & throws his head back as the opened end of the bottle reaches his lips . . . allowing the liquid to pour down his throat, before tossing the now empty container to the side, & acknowledging the camera.
Violence: "At Brutal Encounter, I proved why I am the best this company has to offer. I proved why I'm the man with the best record among the active roster . . . I proved my namesake, which also happens to be my hobby . . . & I proved why putting this belt on me was the single worst thing that anyone could have ever hoped for, because it will never touch the hands of another man as long as I'm still breathing!"
Violence shoots up out of the chair, & folds it up in one fluid motion . . . slamming the top of it down against the floor repeatedly, before flinging it back against the wall behind him.
CRACK!
The chair hits hard, & clatters against the ground as Violence unsheathes the kendo stick from the neck hole of his T-shirt . . . aiming the pointed end toward the buzzing glass lens of the visual equipment, before continuing where he left off without missing a single beat:
Violence: "It doesn't matter if you're a Nathan Versus . . . a Paul Hill . . . a Lance-FUCKING-Leonard, or a "Mad" Max Macbeth! Whether you're "Kicking Ass For The Working Class", or asking people to "Hear Your Roar" . . . whether you're looking for a "Breakdown", or running with the "Devil's" whore!
I'm the "X-Rated Superstar" . . . & to borrow a line from my buddy Balistic, that shit ain't a gimmick. I will do WHATEVER it takes to maintain my dominance over everyone else on the roster . . . & if that means I have to start with Georgy Moscow, tonight . . . & if that means I have to beat the living piss out of his fat ass to make a point . . . & if that means that someone else wants to step up, & pick up the ball where my previous opponents dropped it . . . then so be it!
I'll be waiting on pins & needles, bitches . . . & you best remember that shit when I come out swinging on the motherfucker 1st. Because, in the end, you're all just going to end up another statistic in the Body Count . . . so, why fight destiny?
It's just not worth the effort . . ."
And, with the, Violence removes a blunt from behind his right ear . . . placing it in-between his lips, & then producing a mini BIC from the right front pocket of his jeans. After a flicker, the end is lit, & Violence has already taken a hit . . . exhaling a torrent of smoke toward the camera, which in turn prohibits the viewer from seeing anything else.
This serves as a perfect segue to the next segment, because seconds later . . . the screen:
Fades 2 Black |
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Post by †SamuraiFoochs† on Nov 30, 2006 21:17:39 GMT
"Role Model" by Eminem plays as darkness falls over everyone, & everything, until & series of green strobes begin flashing from all around the width of the arena. A black light shines down from the top of the entrance opening, as Heather St. Clair struts her way out onto the stage through an intense fog. She stops at the head of the entrance ramp, & stands with hands on hips . . . scoffing at various remarks made by fans, & looking back at the entrance opening, until Violence makes his way into the arena. He has the CCW World Heavyweight Championship around his waist.
As he reacher her left side, he wraps his right arm around her waist . . . taking a deep, deep drag from the joint roach in his left hand, before flicking it off to the side, & unsheathing his trademark kendo stick from the neck hole of his T-shirt. He thrusts his arm (& the weapon) into the air above his head . . . prompting a wall of green flames to shoot up from behind the duo, as Violence leans his head back to exhale the smoke.
After a few seconds, the flames eventually dissipate . . . causing the lights to flicker back into full luminosity, while still maintaining the green-colored effect. Violence pats the faceplate of his belt, & then takes St. Clair by the right hand . . . twirling her into a dip, which he then uses to plant a kiss on her neck.
Violence thrusts her back into a vertical base, & they begin making their way down the aisle to a rousing chorus of boos. Upon reaching the ringside area, Violence places his weapon of choice under the bottom turnbuckle pad of the bottom right hand corner, & climbs up onto the apron (ala HHH) . . . standing with his back against the ropes, & crossing his arms against his chest as Heather squirms into the ring through the lull underneath the bottom rope (ala Melina).
Once inside, she remains in a kneeling position . . . allowing Violence time to step in through the gap of the top & middle ropes, before grabbing her by the bun of her hair. Then, as he thrusts his crotch forward into her skull, more flames shoot into the air from the top of all 4 ringposts . . . bathing the ringside area in shadows, before the lights all of a sudden return to their original color. Then, as the music fades out, Violence helps St. Clair to her feet . . . instantly ushering the woman to the outside with a hard smack on the ass. He then crouches down into a Rock-like fighting stance in the middle of the ring . . . facing the entrance opening in extreme anticipation of his impending opponent's arrival.
Michael Buffer: Introducing first..... from St. Louis, Missouri and weighing in at 315 pounds..... the CCW World Heavyweight Champion..... "Big Daddy" Josh Violence.
"Streamline" by Newton brings cheers from the crowd. Georgy Moscow starts out in the crowd and starts slowly running down toward the ring, pretending to fly like superman. Once he reaches the guard rail he jumps up on it and then he trips over it and falls face first into the mats around ringside. He then puts his fists on his hips and strikes a pose. He rolls himself into the ring and strikes the same pose, then he breaks out into dance, going along with the beat.
Michael Buffer: His opponent..... from Moscow, Russia and weighing in at 257 pounds..... Georgy Moscow.
The referee calls for the bell to begin the contest as Georgy continues to dance. Violence shows he isn't playing games as he sprints toward Georgy and almost takes his head off with a Big Boot to the skull. Violence then lifts Georgy up onto his shoulder setting for a Running Powerslam. Georgy though rakes at Violence's eyes blinding him and giving him the chance to break free. Violence blindly swings as Georgy poorly executes a Standing Dropkick. The move knocks Violence back through the middle rope and to the floor.
Ross: Georgy Moscow comes into this match as the underdog. But by gawd things don't look too bad right now.
Heyman: It's only a matter of time before Violence ends the pitiful career of this fat ass. It's not come soon enough.
Georgy listens to the advice of the crowd and attempts to execute a plancha over the top rope onto Violence. Georgy though trips on his way over and ends up falling on the outside. Violence sees Georgy prone and puts the boots to him. Violence then smashes Georgy face first off of the announce table for good measure before tossing him into the ring. Violence then follows him in.
Violence taunts the crowd and soaks up the boos as Georgy struggles to his feet with the aid of the ropes. Georgy turns around to receive a hand around the throat. Violence chokes Georgy taking all the wind out of his lungs. The official makes the count and as he reaches 5, Violence hoists Georgy up into the air and slams him into the canvas with a Chokeslam. Following the move Violence drops down and makes an arrogant cover.
1...
2...
No
Somehow Georgy shoots his shoulder off of the mat. Violence grinds his teeth in anger and glares at the referee. He then drags Georgy to a vertical base with a handful of hair. Violence hooks Georgy's arms and then lifts him over his back before spiking him with Blunt Force Trauma. Once again Violence follows up the big move with a cover.
1...
2...
No
This time Violence pulls Georgy up. Looking to inflict more damage.
Heyman: I told you. I told you. Tonight Josh Violence will end the career of Georgy in that very ring.
Ross: I'm not giving up on the kid yet. Although right now he is getting whipped like a government mule.
With Georgy in bad shape Violence starts to toy with him. Continually slapping his face. Then shots then escalate as Violence balls his hands into fists. The hard shots draw blood from the eyebrow of Georgy. Violence then shows the complete lack of respect as he spits on Georgy. This act seems to make Georgy snap. He jumps to his feet and tackles Violence to the mat. The two scuffle as they fight to their feet with Georgy driving a series of boots into Violence's gut. Georgy then hits the ropes but Violence cuts off the momentum with a Riki-Lariat putting Georgy through a loop.
Violence then laughs as Georgy lays on the canvas almost out cold. He lifts Georgy up before whipping him back first into the turnbuckle. Violence takes a few steps back before charging into the corner and crushing Georgy with a Body Avalanche. The collision sees Georgy stumble out of the corner swaying from side to side. Violence looks to Heather and then the crowd. He kicks Georgy doubling him over and signals the end.
Violence grabs the arms of Georgy setting for The Violator. Before Violence can execute the move though Paul Hill comes through the crowd and slides into the ring clocking Violence in the back of the head. This leads to the referee calling for the bell.
Michael Buffer: Here is your winner by disqualification..... "Big Daddy" Josh Violence.
Violence doesn't have a chance to celebrate as he falls to the mat following a barrage of punches and elbows from Hill. Heather climbs into the ring and jumps on Hill's back trying to choke him. Hill swats Heather like a fly tossing her halfway across the ring. The distraction gives Violence a chance to recover and he swings at Hill. The two grapple trying to gain an advantage as security and officials flood ringside.
Ross: The match is over but right now we've got a war in the ring. The bad blood is boiling over.
Heyman: Hill once again sticking his nose in the champ's business. He's about to get one hell of a beating.
Hill and Violence get separated and start to claw at the officials and security as they hold them apart. Heather recovers and grabs the title belt as she and Violence begin to leave up the ramp. Hill starts flooring security in an attempt to somehow get closer to Violence.
The champion reaches the top of the ramp where he is joined by his Body Count allies Adam Machiavelli, Sammael and Joker. Body Count watches down over the chaos as Hill battles anyone in his path and the screen fades to black..
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