Post by Your JESUS on Nov 28, 2008 14:23:24 GMT -4
November Reign showed it's fury. Many fans satisfied, pleased, and entertained by the performances by the APW roster. When other feds struggle, and the economy spirals out of control. The world looks to APW for a helping hand. Something they can sink their teeth into. A release from life, as many men and women put their bodies on the line for them. With things looking shaky for APW coming into this PPV, all rumors where stopped dead in their tracks. The ratings proved that APW still has momentum behind it to be the number one wrestling organization in history.
November Reign saw new tag team champions, and a surprising twist for the world title match. The main event quickly turned from a one on one match up, to a fatal four way. Hands down the men entered into the four way are to be commended. They each wrestled matches earlier, and had enough to enter a brutal battle. With the gold on the line, it may have taken death to stop some one from walking the ramp at the chance to become the head of the company, the world champion.
The Irish Hammer not too long ago graduated from high school, and entered the world of professional wrestling. His size, speed, agility,a rapid ability to adapt to what ever he's doing drove him to be a hot prospect fresh out of high school. Many MMA camps, colleges, and such were trying to recruit the young man. APW's Jeff snatched him up, signed him to a contract. Less then a year later, he not only skyrocketed to popularity, but became the APW world champion. November Reign was a great test for the champion. His first title defense was a success, and a challenge. Three other men stepped into the ring trying to take this wrestling monster down a few rungs on the ladder. Sabur defeated five other men to become champion, and the very next month he defended against three. He was the victor, and as that door closed, another opened. The next episode of Overdrive finds the champion in yet another defense.
We find the huge beast of a man, otherwise know as Sabur walking through the hall with his Lil Dick.
Lil Dick: Wow...fresh off the curve ball of Pha....
Sabur stops dead in his tracks, and covers Lil Dick's mouth his large hand.
Sabur: WHOA...that is the name we do not speak...so make sure...it doesn't exit your mouth.
Sabur then releases his grip on his Lil Dick's head (HA!)
Lil Dick: OK...the curve ball thrown from the name we do not speak of...leaving APW. The Jeff tossing you in there with three other guy's, now the very next show, you defend the title against Carl Cage.
Sabur: It's what a champion does. He doesn't back off from a challenge. If the PPV is booked to have a title defense, then well God Damn it...the title will be defended. Whether it's five guy's to become champion, or three guy's to keep the title, or one guy that seems to be a little out there...the outcome will be the same. This blood thirsty, human wrecking machine that Trevor Blackwell created will enter the ring, tear some limbs loose, punish some bodies, and abuse whoever stands across from me.
The two then make their way into the lounge area exclusively for champions of APW. As the big man pushes the door open, and steps in. He looks around. Fyre Angel is lacing up her boots. Twister and Lively seem to be bickering with each other. Link is rummaging his email in box attempting to answer questions that other people have submitted to him for his intelligent, witty replies. Sabur tosses his bag down, and takes a seat in one of the ultra plush chairs APW provides for it's champions in the lounge. A waitress runs over to tend to the world champion. He places an order for two bottles of water, and a Ding Dong. (The Ding Dong is for his Lil Dick...just picture it folks...a Lil Dick...wating a Ding Dong)
Just then the door to the champs lounge opens up. All the champions inside said room turn toward the door. They all realize every champion of the company is present, so either Jeff is coming in, or they will have a trespasser on their hands.
It seems the room has an intruder. APW's annoyance Phil enters the room with a recorder, knowing that no camera's are allowed in this exclusive high roller room for the elite of APW. As Phil enters the room, you would think he was wearing a Praise Alla Fuck America shirt. The the wirey White Lion makes his way over toward the interview extroidinare.
Lively: Whats up Phil....this is the champs lounge...and I don't see a title around your waist.
Phil: Well Michael....I came to try and get a few words with Sabur about tonights match up.
Lively looks at Phil. His right foot begins stomping on the floor like Shawn Michaels tunning up the band.
Lively: So you invade the champs lounge, and don't even wish to speak with the JESUS....
His anger level begins to rise.The stomping of the foot increases, and then Twister intervenes. He walks forward just in the sight of Lively. He twirls the tasser around his finger like a six shooting specialist. This vision calms the eager Lively right down. He then retreats back to his comforting chair.
Phil then walks over to the Irish Hammer, who opens his bottle of water. The Lil Dick sitting next to him in his own child size plush chair. The midget tearing off the tin foil wrapper of the Ding Dong. Phil looks on with a watering mouth, looking hungry for a Dong of his own.
Sabur: Wants some Dong....hunh.
Phil: What...uh...no..
Sabur: Whats up Phil....you about got your ass whipped coming in here. What's so important.
Phil: Well Sabur....I was wanting your thoughts on tonights match with Carl Cage.
Sabur: My thoughts...you wonder around every arena, bar, and alley searching for peoples thoughts. Well heres mine...Carl Cage proved at Novem...
Phil interrupts Sabur, and the world champion look rather puzzled by the rudeness.
Phil: You see...the theory running around is that in singles competition you couldn't beat Twister for the Gold.
Twister then raises his bottle of Jack Daniels in the air.
Twister: Damn straight...never beat me one on one.
Lively: I did...ha...and it was easy...what a champ you are....Lily ass bitch.
Then a solid sound of electricity rings out followed by a yelp from Michael Lively.
Sabur: Well Phil....at November Reign...and One Night in Hell, I showed the worl....
Phil: Exactly my point...you lost to Twister...
Twister: Drink to that...
Phil: And then became the champion in an elimination chamber...then the next month you retained the title in a fatal fourway...but tonight it's you versus Carl Cage.
Sabur: And you point...since you wont let me get a word i.....
Phil: The point is...some people may be wondering if one on one....you may loose your title. You couldn't win it in a singles match, and some people think you may loose it here tonight based on that same theory.
Sabur's face turns a bit red. The midget at his side stops mid bite. The white creme on the corners of his mouth. Sabur then looks over to his Lil Dick, who stares at his angered big friend. The midget then leaps up, walks across the room. He snatches up the tasser from Twister. He then walks back over behind Phil. He leaps up, tagging the tasser to the neck of Phil. The mans body drops limp to the floor. He screams in pain as the electricity runs through his body.
Lively: I feel your pain Phil
Twister: RUN.....a Electric Lil DICK ON THE LOOSE!!
The champs in the room then stand, looking at the midget with the tasser. He lunges toward Fyre Angel. She backs up, and then he goes for Lively. He scampers across the room heading for Link. Just then a huge boot crashes into the side of the midget's head. He drops dead on the ground. The tasser falls loose. Sabur kicks it back over toward Twister and Lively. The White Lion jumps up in his chair as the tasser gets close.
Twister: It wont shock you...unless some one pulls the trigger....easy Mike, easy!
Sabur: Sorry guy's...I shouldn't have fed him that Ding Dong...it's makes him all goofy.
Sabur then grabs his bag, slings it over his shoulder. He exits the champs lounge headed to his locker room. The big man hangs a right down another hall, and opens his locker room door. Just as he reaches for the light switch, he stops. It's as if he smelled something familiar.
Sabur: S'up Trevor...
Sabur then flicks on the light. The Career Killer sitting in a chair, leaning against the wall. A joint hanging from his mouth, and his cane leaned up next to him. Sabur throws his bag down, and has a seat in another chair.
Trevor: S'up champ. Want a hit...oh nevermind...forgot your a puss when it comes to the green.
Sabur: And...you seem to be a puss at picking up a win as of late.
Trevor smirks at Sabur with that look of a smart ass giving another smart ass props for a zinger. Trevor then sets the chair down on all fours.
Trevor: So where's it at...
Sabur: Where's what...
Trevor: The strap...
Sabur then reaches into his bag. He pulls out the shinny world title. He buffs the name plate off a bit, and then passes it over to Blackwell. Trevor grabs the belt looks it over, and then tosses it back to the Irish Hammer.
Trevor: So the life of a champion...one defense after another...you did good the other night...now it's back up to bat.
Sabur: Yep...had a good teacher...let me know how brawl, give it that ruthless spirit, and be ready for anything. So I was...and pulled out the win. Tonight should be no different.
Trevor: You think so...
Sabur: Listen...I saw what Carl Cage had to offer. He hits hard, he's big, and possess some skill. The thing is this Trev...I'm bigger, stronger, and hit way fucking harder...ask your brother Tony...he knows.
Trevor just smirks at the champ as he pulls another drag off the joint.
Sabur: Carl Cage is a new comer...and won himself a future shot at the Xtreme championship.
Trevor: What a joke...that belt hasn't been the same since I was the champ.
Sabur: Word...but enough about me...what about you...man...first Matt Metal gets it over on you, then Dr. Matt..it's a good thing your next opponent isn't named Matt...you may be able to pull out a win.
Trevor looks over toward Sabur. He stands, and so does Sabur. They gaze into each others eyes for a brief second like two men ready to duel. Within an instant Sabur catches a cane shot from Trevor. He staggers backward, then rushes forward, ducks the next one, and plunges his shoulder into the mid-section of Trevor Blackwell. The Career Killers feet are lifted off the ground, as Sabur charges toward the wall.....
President Jeff is sitting calmly at his desk, counting money, and going over the ratings of November Reign. Just then through the wall comes Sabur and Trevor Blackwell crashing into his desk. Jeff slides his chair back in shock. Sabur then stands, as does Trevor. They both dust each other off, and look toward Jeff.
Jeff: What in the blue hell is my world champion, and my other top booking wrestling crashing through the wall of my office.
Sabur looks at Trevor and shrugs his shoulders.
Trevor: You know superhero...boy's will be boy's.
Sabur just snickers at Trevor's smart ass comments. Jeff stands up looking through the hole in the wall.
Jeff: Look at my office...what the hell.
Sabur: Hey Jeff...you have been doing a great job...and deserved a bigger office. Consider it a gift.
Sabur then steps through the hole in the wall. Grabs his bag and the title. He walks back through the hole into Jeff's office.
Sabur: Sorry boss, I'd love to stay and chat...but I have a match to prepare for...big title match...you know.
Sabur then walks out the front door of Jeff's office. Trevor looks around finds his joint. He places it in his mouth, relights it, and follows Sabur out.
Sabur: Hey Trevor...looks like I need to use your locker room to get ready...unless you want to remodel that one as well.
Trevor: Maybe...we can go help out Twister before your match...heard he needed a bigger place to change...now that him and the baby Jesus have become life partners.
Just then the two stop in the hallway, as the Carl Cage promo airs. Sabur grabs a seat on an equipment box, and Trevor leans against the wall.
After a few yawns, and some rubbing of the eyes from the rather boring monologue from the Irish Hammers opponent, the two stand. Both begin stretching as if awaking from a nap.
Sabur: Some kids hunh...
Trevor: Yeah...what can you do.
Sabur: Well he's going to learn real fast about the wrestling business. You don't just waltz into a company, win a match and become the new world champion. This kid will realize...his shot tonight is a gimmick, he's a pawn. I'm going to walk through this guy and call Checkmate. He may be a powerhouse, a talent, and something special for the future....but this is the present, and I'm the fucking man around this joint.
Trevor: Wow...mister big shot...I fucking learnt you well hunh. The silly fuck is gone, and all thats left is the raw brutality that is the Human Wrecking Machine...NICE! (Chuckling in an Evil Dr. Frankenstein manor)
Sabur: Yeah....well...it's like this, I earned my shot, and there are about ten other people that I would list off that could be in line for a title shot before Cage. Twister, Dr. Matt, Link, Michael Lively, Hardcore Kid, Fyre Angel, Matt Metal, Arcadia, Jason Royce, and...possibly Level One.
Trevor: Oh...so I'm not on the list.
Sabur: Pefft...yeah...but
Trevor: But what...
Sabur: Nevermind...
Trevor: No, no...finish.
Sabur: It's cool...look Cage is hungry, he looking to make a name for himself. I was in that very same spot, and the things is...I payed my dues around here, and it's time I serve Cage with a bill. The invoice is due, and I'm taking whats owed out in violence. Whats more entertaining then two large talented powerhouses colliding in the center of that ring...
Trevor: What...
Sabur: Me smashing the shit out of a rookie..the noob will welcomed into the House....and feel the PAIN. It's time to deflate the ego of this young stud, and send him back down where he belongs...fighting the Fyre Angel for the Xtreme title...or possibly matching up with you...HA!
Trevor shoves Sabur into the wall. The big man returns with an open hand slap. They begin slap boxing in the hall as the camera fades out.
November Reign saw new tag team champions, and a surprising twist for the world title match. The main event quickly turned from a one on one match up, to a fatal four way. Hands down the men entered into the four way are to be commended. They each wrestled matches earlier, and had enough to enter a brutal battle. With the gold on the line, it may have taken death to stop some one from walking the ramp at the chance to become the head of the company, the world champion.
The Irish Hammer not too long ago graduated from high school, and entered the world of professional wrestling. His size, speed, agility,a rapid ability to adapt to what ever he's doing drove him to be a hot prospect fresh out of high school. Many MMA camps, colleges, and such were trying to recruit the young man. APW's Jeff snatched him up, signed him to a contract. Less then a year later, he not only skyrocketed to popularity, but became the APW world champion. November Reign was a great test for the champion. His first title defense was a success, and a challenge. Three other men stepped into the ring trying to take this wrestling monster down a few rungs on the ladder. Sabur defeated five other men to become champion, and the very next month he defended against three. He was the victor, and as that door closed, another opened. The next episode of Overdrive finds the champion in yet another defense.
We find the huge beast of a man, otherwise know as Sabur walking through the hall with his Lil Dick.
Lil Dick: Wow...fresh off the curve ball of Pha....
Sabur stops dead in his tracks, and covers Lil Dick's mouth his large hand.
Sabur: WHOA...that is the name we do not speak...so make sure...it doesn't exit your mouth.
Sabur then releases his grip on his Lil Dick's head (HA!)
Lil Dick: OK...the curve ball thrown from the name we do not speak of...leaving APW. The Jeff tossing you in there with three other guy's, now the very next show, you defend the title against Carl Cage.
Sabur: It's what a champion does. He doesn't back off from a challenge. If the PPV is booked to have a title defense, then well God Damn it...the title will be defended. Whether it's five guy's to become champion, or three guy's to keep the title, or one guy that seems to be a little out there...the outcome will be the same. This blood thirsty, human wrecking machine that Trevor Blackwell created will enter the ring, tear some limbs loose, punish some bodies, and abuse whoever stands across from me.
The two then make their way into the lounge area exclusively for champions of APW. As the big man pushes the door open, and steps in. He looks around. Fyre Angel is lacing up her boots. Twister and Lively seem to be bickering with each other. Link is rummaging his email in box attempting to answer questions that other people have submitted to him for his intelligent, witty replies. Sabur tosses his bag down, and takes a seat in one of the ultra plush chairs APW provides for it's champions in the lounge. A waitress runs over to tend to the world champion. He places an order for two bottles of water, and a Ding Dong. (The Ding Dong is for his Lil Dick...just picture it folks...a Lil Dick...wating a Ding Dong)
Just then the door to the champs lounge opens up. All the champions inside said room turn toward the door. They all realize every champion of the company is present, so either Jeff is coming in, or they will have a trespasser on their hands.
It seems the room has an intruder. APW's annoyance Phil enters the room with a recorder, knowing that no camera's are allowed in this exclusive high roller room for the elite of APW. As Phil enters the room, you would think he was wearing a Praise Alla Fuck America shirt. The the wirey White Lion makes his way over toward the interview extroidinare.
Lively: Whats up Phil....this is the champs lounge...and I don't see a title around your waist.
Phil: Well Michael....I came to try and get a few words with Sabur about tonights match up.
Lively looks at Phil. His right foot begins stomping on the floor like Shawn Michaels tunning up the band.
Lively: So you invade the champs lounge, and don't even wish to speak with the JESUS....
His anger level begins to rise.The stomping of the foot increases, and then Twister intervenes. He walks forward just in the sight of Lively. He twirls the tasser around his finger like a six shooting specialist. This vision calms the eager Lively right down. He then retreats back to his comforting chair.
Phil then walks over to the Irish Hammer, who opens his bottle of water. The Lil Dick sitting next to him in his own child size plush chair. The midget tearing off the tin foil wrapper of the Ding Dong. Phil looks on with a watering mouth, looking hungry for a Dong of his own.
Sabur: Wants some Dong....hunh.
Phil: What...uh...no..
Sabur: Whats up Phil....you about got your ass whipped coming in here. What's so important.
Phil: Well Sabur....I was wanting your thoughts on tonights match with Carl Cage.
Sabur: My thoughts...you wonder around every arena, bar, and alley searching for peoples thoughts. Well heres mine...Carl Cage proved at Novem...
Phil interrupts Sabur, and the world champion look rather puzzled by the rudeness.
Phil: You see...the theory running around is that in singles competition you couldn't beat Twister for the Gold.
Twister then raises his bottle of Jack Daniels in the air.
Twister: Damn straight...never beat me one on one.
Lively: I did...ha...and it was easy...what a champ you are....Lily ass bitch.
Then a solid sound of electricity rings out followed by a yelp from Michael Lively.
Sabur: Well Phil....at November Reign...and One Night in Hell, I showed the worl....
Phil: Exactly my point...you lost to Twister...
Twister: Drink to that...
Phil: And then became the champion in an elimination chamber...then the next month you retained the title in a fatal fourway...but tonight it's you versus Carl Cage.
Sabur: And you point...since you wont let me get a word i.....
Phil: The point is...some people may be wondering if one on one....you may loose your title. You couldn't win it in a singles match, and some people think you may loose it here tonight based on that same theory.
Sabur's face turns a bit red. The midget at his side stops mid bite. The white creme on the corners of his mouth. Sabur then looks over to his Lil Dick, who stares at his angered big friend. The midget then leaps up, walks across the room. He snatches up the tasser from Twister. He then walks back over behind Phil. He leaps up, tagging the tasser to the neck of Phil. The mans body drops limp to the floor. He screams in pain as the electricity runs through his body.
Lively: I feel your pain Phil
Twister: RUN.....a Electric Lil DICK ON THE LOOSE!!
The champs in the room then stand, looking at the midget with the tasser. He lunges toward Fyre Angel. She backs up, and then he goes for Lively. He scampers across the room heading for Link. Just then a huge boot crashes into the side of the midget's head. He drops dead on the ground. The tasser falls loose. Sabur kicks it back over toward Twister and Lively. The White Lion jumps up in his chair as the tasser gets close.
Twister: It wont shock you...unless some one pulls the trigger....easy Mike, easy!
Sabur: Sorry guy's...I shouldn't have fed him that Ding Dong...it's makes him all goofy.
Sabur then grabs his bag, slings it over his shoulder. He exits the champs lounge headed to his locker room. The big man hangs a right down another hall, and opens his locker room door. Just as he reaches for the light switch, he stops. It's as if he smelled something familiar.
Sabur: S'up Trevor...
Sabur then flicks on the light. The Career Killer sitting in a chair, leaning against the wall. A joint hanging from his mouth, and his cane leaned up next to him. Sabur throws his bag down, and has a seat in another chair.
Trevor: S'up champ. Want a hit...oh nevermind...forgot your a puss when it comes to the green.
Sabur: And...you seem to be a puss at picking up a win as of late.
Trevor smirks at Sabur with that look of a smart ass giving another smart ass props for a zinger. Trevor then sets the chair down on all fours.
Trevor: So where's it at...
Sabur: Where's what...
Trevor: The strap...
Sabur then reaches into his bag. He pulls out the shinny world title. He buffs the name plate off a bit, and then passes it over to Blackwell. Trevor grabs the belt looks it over, and then tosses it back to the Irish Hammer.
Trevor: So the life of a champion...one defense after another...you did good the other night...now it's back up to bat.
Sabur: Yep...had a good teacher...let me know how brawl, give it that ruthless spirit, and be ready for anything. So I was...and pulled out the win. Tonight should be no different.
Trevor: You think so...
Sabur: Listen...I saw what Carl Cage had to offer. He hits hard, he's big, and possess some skill. The thing is this Trev...I'm bigger, stronger, and hit way fucking harder...ask your brother Tony...he knows.
Trevor just smirks at the champ as he pulls another drag off the joint.
Sabur: Carl Cage is a new comer...and won himself a future shot at the Xtreme championship.
Trevor: What a joke...that belt hasn't been the same since I was the champ.
Sabur: Word...but enough about me...what about you...man...first Matt Metal gets it over on you, then Dr. Matt..it's a good thing your next opponent isn't named Matt...you may be able to pull out a win.
Trevor looks over toward Sabur. He stands, and so does Sabur. They gaze into each others eyes for a brief second like two men ready to duel. Within an instant Sabur catches a cane shot from Trevor. He staggers backward, then rushes forward, ducks the next one, and plunges his shoulder into the mid-section of Trevor Blackwell. The Career Killers feet are lifted off the ground, as Sabur charges toward the wall.....
President Jeff is sitting calmly at his desk, counting money, and going over the ratings of November Reign. Just then through the wall comes Sabur and Trevor Blackwell crashing into his desk. Jeff slides his chair back in shock. Sabur then stands, as does Trevor. They both dust each other off, and look toward Jeff.
Jeff: What in the blue hell is my world champion, and my other top booking wrestling crashing through the wall of my office.
Sabur looks at Trevor and shrugs his shoulders.
Trevor: You know superhero...boy's will be boy's.
Sabur just snickers at Trevor's smart ass comments. Jeff stands up looking through the hole in the wall.
Jeff: Look at my office...what the hell.
Sabur: Hey Jeff...you have been doing a great job...and deserved a bigger office. Consider it a gift.
Sabur then steps through the hole in the wall. Grabs his bag and the title. He walks back through the hole into Jeff's office.
Sabur: Sorry boss, I'd love to stay and chat...but I have a match to prepare for...big title match...you know.
Sabur then walks out the front door of Jeff's office. Trevor looks around finds his joint. He places it in his mouth, relights it, and follows Sabur out.
Sabur: Hey Trevor...looks like I need to use your locker room to get ready...unless you want to remodel that one as well.
Trevor: Maybe...we can go help out Twister before your match...heard he needed a bigger place to change...now that him and the baby Jesus have become life partners.
Just then the two stop in the hallway, as the Carl Cage promo airs. Sabur grabs a seat on an equipment box, and Trevor leans against the wall.
After a few yawns, and some rubbing of the eyes from the rather boring monologue from the Irish Hammers opponent, the two stand. Both begin stretching as if awaking from a nap.
Sabur: Some kids hunh...
Trevor: Yeah...what can you do.
Sabur: Well he's going to learn real fast about the wrestling business. You don't just waltz into a company, win a match and become the new world champion. This kid will realize...his shot tonight is a gimmick, he's a pawn. I'm going to walk through this guy and call Checkmate. He may be a powerhouse, a talent, and something special for the future....but this is the present, and I'm the fucking man around this joint.
Trevor: Wow...mister big shot...I fucking learnt you well hunh. The silly fuck is gone, and all thats left is the raw brutality that is the Human Wrecking Machine...NICE! (Chuckling in an Evil Dr. Frankenstein manor)
Sabur: Yeah....well...it's like this, I earned my shot, and there are about ten other people that I would list off that could be in line for a title shot before Cage. Twister, Dr. Matt, Link, Michael Lively, Hardcore Kid, Fyre Angel, Matt Metal, Arcadia, Jason Royce, and...possibly Level One.
Trevor: Oh...so I'm not on the list.
Sabur: Pefft...yeah...but
Trevor: But what...
Sabur: Nevermind...
Trevor: No, no...finish.
Sabur: It's cool...look Cage is hungry, he looking to make a name for himself. I was in that very same spot, and the things is...I payed my dues around here, and it's time I serve Cage with a bill. The invoice is due, and I'm taking whats owed out in violence. Whats more entertaining then two large talented powerhouses colliding in the center of that ring...
Trevor: What...
Sabur: Me smashing the shit out of a rookie..the noob will welcomed into the House....and feel the PAIN. It's time to deflate the ego of this young stud, and send him back down where he belongs...fighting the Fyre Angel for the Xtreme title...or possibly matching up with you...HA!
Trevor shoves Sabur into the wall. The big man returns with an open hand slap. They begin slap boxing in the hall as the camera fades out.
