Post by stormfront on Nov 18, 2012 18:29:20 GMT -4
Salem, Massachusetts in November gets that cold chill off the Atlantic Ocean that freezes one to the bone. But more chilling than the wind is the brutal and tragic history of this town. Young women were chastised for loose morals and called witches just because they didn’t conform with the prudish mentality. Were these women imprisoned? No. Were they outcast? No. They were strapped to a wooden pole, doused with flammable materials, and set on fire. Their skin sizzled and bubbled as the flames ripped through their fragile bodies. Most choked to death, suffocating on the smoke before the fire sizzled their flesh to ash.
We see the two beautiful women that comprise Storm Front standing near one of the historical witch trial sights. Amber Storm is dressed up like a slutty young woman from pioneer times. Meanwhile, Sophie is looking at her, arms folded with an exasperated look on her face.
Sophie: What the hell are you doing? We’re doing a wrestling promo… not a girls gone wild interview. You look like a slut!
Amber: And that’s exactly what the Bible thumpers 400 years ago thought when they saw a buxom young woman like this showing a little more skin than desired. But they called them witches and listlessly slaughtered many of them just because they were afraid of their own sexuality. Besides… It’s fun dressing in old timey clothes.
Sophie: Whatever.
Sophie rolls her eyes.
Sophie: This week, it seems that Mr. Alexander Duvall has decided to shake things up a little but throwing a third of the roster into one giant tag team match…..
Amber: You call that a match? I call that a desperate clusterfuck. Either way, we’ve been charged with teaming up with A guy named after a woman’s makeup product, and somebody who always makes me think of Dudley DooRight. But the extra twist thrown in is that whichever person gets the pin fall has a shot at a North American Title contendership. And personally, you can keep that title. We’ve come in as a tag team, and that’s where our priorities lie!
Sophie: That being said, we’re not in the business of just letting somebody run all over us with a clear path to victory. So our opponents better be ready for one hell of a fight! Speaking of our opponents, I really don’t see much to write home about. I mean on one hand, you’ve got Scrap. So he’s not good enough to be part of the main product? He’s the little sliver they throw away, useless and cumbersome. The only purpose he really serves is being a warm body occupying a space in this match.
Amber: Then you got the trailor park boys…. A team that I find sad and pathetic is allowed to move on in the tournament while my sister and myself are on the sidelines watching those less deserving get all the credit. Let me guess, you’re a couple of redneck raciest pigfuckers? Tell me again which one of you is Ned Beaty, and which one is “You Got a Perty Mouth!” Oh Shit, is that a bango I hear? Good thing I brought my buttplugs!
Sophie: Last, and most likely least, you got the Goldan Shower Chris Gunn. That in of itself is an ironic name concidering a roided up testosterone junkey like yourself is most likely firing off blanks. I’m sure you’ve got a bit of a touchy trigger from all the misfiring I’ve heard you do. If you think you’re the golden boy, then you’ve got another thing coming to you kiddo…. The only thing Golden you’re getting near is the chineese buffet down the street after you’re disappointing showing. Have fun walking there with you head hung in the dirt!
Amber: The fact of the matter is….after our lackluster performance last week, it is up to us to show your yahoos that we’re not the but of some joke to be passed off and forgotten. We are a force of nature, and tomorrow night the STORM rains down on Salem!
With that, the scene fades to black.
We see the two beautiful women that comprise Storm Front standing near one of the historical witch trial sights. Amber Storm is dressed up like a slutty young woman from pioneer times. Meanwhile, Sophie is looking at her, arms folded with an exasperated look on her face.
Sophie: What the hell are you doing? We’re doing a wrestling promo… not a girls gone wild interview. You look like a slut!
Amber: And that’s exactly what the Bible thumpers 400 years ago thought when they saw a buxom young woman like this showing a little more skin than desired. But they called them witches and listlessly slaughtered many of them just because they were afraid of their own sexuality. Besides… It’s fun dressing in old timey clothes.
Sophie: Whatever.
Sophie rolls her eyes.
Sophie: This week, it seems that Mr. Alexander Duvall has decided to shake things up a little but throwing a third of the roster into one giant tag team match…..
Amber: You call that a match? I call that a desperate clusterfuck. Either way, we’ve been charged with teaming up with A guy named after a woman’s makeup product, and somebody who always makes me think of Dudley DooRight. But the extra twist thrown in is that whichever person gets the pin fall has a shot at a North American Title contendership. And personally, you can keep that title. We’ve come in as a tag team, and that’s where our priorities lie!
Sophie: That being said, we’re not in the business of just letting somebody run all over us with a clear path to victory. So our opponents better be ready for one hell of a fight! Speaking of our opponents, I really don’t see much to write home about. I mean on one hand, you’ve got Scrap. So he’s not good enough to be part of the main product? He’s the little sliver they throw away, useless and cumbersome. The only purpose he really serves is being a warm body occupying a space in this match.
Amber: Then you got the trailor park boys…. A team that I find sad and pathetic is allowed to move on in the tournament while my sister and myself are on the sidelines watching those less deserving get all the credit. Let me guess, you’re a couple of redneck raciest pigfuckers? Tell me again which one of you is Ned Beaty, and which one is “You Got a Perty Mouth!” Oh Shit, is that a bango I hear? Good thing I brought my buttplugs!
Sophie: Last, and most likely least, you got the Goldan Shower Chris Gunn. That in of itself is an ironic name concidering a roided up testosterone junkey like yourself is most likely firing off blanks. I’m sure you’ve got a bit of a touchy trigger from all the misfiring I’ve heard you do. If you think you’re the golden boy, then you’ve got another thing coming to you kiddo…. The only thing Golden you’re getting near is the chineese buffet down the street after you’re disappointing showing. Have fun walking there with you head hung in the dirt!
Amber: The fact of the matter is….after our lackluster performance last week, it is up to us to show your yahoos that we’re not the but of some joke to be passed off and forgotten. We are a force of nature, and tomorrow night the STORM rains down on Salem!
With that, the scene fades to black.
