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Thread: th: caRd & promos

  1. #21
    two squirts per zerk mth's Avatar
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    Not sure your intention was to make me smile but brother, heh, this grin's fixing to tear my face in half.
    Truth be told, Travis, I don't want to argue with a hefty chunk of what you just said.
    Truth is, you deserve more than you've gotten.
    Truth is, since kayfabe be damned, I think you're better than folks held higher than you.
    You're one of the best in the game and you're sorely underrated.
    You're on my level. Sometimes you might be better. Sometimes.
    And you have my respect.
    Though I bet it's not my respect you want, hm?
    I assume all of what I said will be met with disgust and disdain and some salty language and that's super groovy.
    Because I did what I wanted. At least with one member of this roster.
    Little bit of fire in your eyes.
    Little bit of fire on your tongue.
    Little bit of fire in your belly, ready to find its way to your fists and to my face, yeahyeahyeah!
    Sounds to me like at least Travis McCoy is going to try.
    You don't want to call me The Backbone, Travis?
    That's fine.
    Call me The Life Blood.
    And oh yes, yes, also, one thing, you dingbat:
    Call me MR. a little respect. "

  2. #22
    Shinsuke MacNamara Alcohol's Avatar
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    Mar 2001
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    The arena lights darken as the sound of ‘Absinthe with Faust’ by Cradle of Filth tears through the arena.

    "Tripping through boudoirs laced with opiate themes
    Sipping the bizarre, tasting copious dreams
    A toast to those most sacrilegious of days
    Where for every whim won
    One soon repays"

    The crowd turn almost in unison, greeting the entering wrestler with a mixed chorus of boos and cheers as the opening lines of the song blare out over the arena, bringing everyone's attention to the stage as the Drunken one himself steps out onto the stage.

    *PYRO* *PYRO* *PYRO*

    "We touched the stars
    That now laugh from afar
    At we, the damned
    The damned
    The damned
    The damned"

    He pauses for a moment as the arena lights dim, his pyro seeming to fill the interior of the building, casting it in a sickly green glow. The figure lifts his head, allowing the arena lights to illuminate his pallid features.

    He's aged, badly since we’ve last seen him. He looks heavier, scruffier, damaged. His stubble is patchy and his face is lined and scarred. His eyes seem heavier and darker, but there’s still a trace of the old Alcohol as he smiles wryly at the crowd, his eyes scanning quickly around the arena, relishing their attention as he lifts a microphone to his mouth.

    “Love or hate, it never really mattered to me.”
    He pauses briefly, before starting to walk down the ramp towards the ring.
    “I mean, everyone says that, when inside we all know that we all want to be loved. Even me!” He shakes his head, almost sadly, “but eventually you realise that you have a choice. I could be loved or I could be myself, I could never have both!”

    As he reaches the ring, the arena goes completely dark, illuminated only by a single spotlight shining onto the centre of the ring. He rolls slowly into the ring, and walks to the far corner, leaning against the top turnbuckle as he starts to speak again.
    “So I decided I was tired of being a running joke and I learned to embrace the hate instead. It gave me something, something to get out of bed for.”

    “I learned to channel it, I learned to use it. I learned that the need to spite people who hate you can be almost as strong as the desire to please the ones who love you.”


    He steps back, pushing himself away from the corner and stands in the middle of the ring. Turned towards the hard camera.
    “Eventually though, hatred burns out fast and people just stop caring. They forgot about me, or rather they didn’t even bother forgetting. I was just there. Furniture.”

    “For so long that killed me, because deep down I knew that all I wanted was attention, but at the same time there was no way I would ever get what I wanted in the ring.”

    “I was trapped, because this...”
    He gestures to the ring, “this is all I know.”

    “Almost literally in fact. I wandered into the RWF over 16 years ago, drunk, homeless, with no memories of my life before that.”
    “I learned to control the drink. I went from being homeless to owning or co-owning nearly every major federation in this industry, but I still don’t know where I came from. I still don’t even know my real name.”

    “But you know what? I learned a valuable lesson. That you don’t have to be beholden to the past. That you can change your life and your circumstances if you want to.”

    “…if you need to.”

    He pauses again, looking down at the ring for a few moments before continuing.

    “And I need to.”

    “I’ve lived and breathed for the last 16 years as Alcohol the drunk, as Alcohol the owner and every time I tried to be Alcohol the Wrestler, everything would get derailed. Whether it’s my best friends betraying me and trying to steal my federation out from under me, or my biggest enemies asking for my help running their companies.”

    “Every time I try to make a fresh start something goes wrong, but not this time. This time there’s no Raven, or Rogerer, to turn their backs on me, no Tigress or Wookie to betray me, no Kid_Roll or Whelan to distract me. This time it’s just me.

    “No friends, no allies, not even enemies…”

    “Just targets.”

    As he talks, the camera angle shifts to in ring and slowly pans around him, but as it moves, the crowd noise seems to fade.
    The camera passes to the other side of him and pans out to the crowd, revealing not a packed auditorium, but the musty remains of a dishevelled looking RWF arena.
    The few remaining seats are mouldering, there is evidence of fire and water damage in various parts of the arena and as the camera continues to move we see the old RWF tron, its frame shattered and its giant screen torn and tattered.

    “I’ve spent most of the last ten years living in the past.”
    As the camera turns back to alcohol we see the shaft of light illuminating him isn’t from a spotlight, but from a huge rent in the arena roof.
    “But it’s time to stop worrying about where I’ve come from. The past is dead.

    “Alcohol is dead. Long live Alcohol!”

    As he says the final words, a wrecking ball slams through the far wall of the arena, sending a massive cloud of concrete rubble and dust cascading down.
    “From there on out, I’m building a new legacy. Not out of old achievements, but out of the bones of the fallen.”

    “I will build myself a new kingdom here. I will break anyone in front of me, and you know what?”

    “For the first time in a long time I’m looking forward to tomorrow!”

    Dropping the mic he turns and leaves the ring, making his way towards a nearby exit as another wrecking ball bursts through the arena, from the entranceway, crashing against the dilapidated tron, sending it crashing to the ground, the wave of dust and debris rolling across the camera, causing the picture to...

    *Fade to Black*

  3. #23
    75% Insane Rip's Avatar
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    Mr. H.

    I hear you.

    I hear you clearly my old friend, almost like it was years ago.

    You're still railing against the dark in your own inimitable style, chasing the monsters the only way you know how, and you know I love you for it, yeah?

    She had a soft spot for you, you know that right? Even though she was sure you pinched her good lipsticks every time you were at the house, and you scared her damn cat.

    Yeah, she loved you like the others, better than some.

    But if you think I'm just here to get in the way, for the money, or for a free pass, then my old friend you must have been forgetting to open a window when playing with your paint.

    I'm here to prove a point son, no matter who gets in my damn way, you, Andrew, Travis, Tyson, Wizz, the Ninja...

    Doesn't matter son, you'll all go over the rope, tap or bounce on your damn heads, no matter.


    And thanks for the flowers Matt.

    She always loved pink lilies.

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